She's Out of Control Page 2

  “Point taken, but Brea, would you have married John if he took that long to make up his mind? At some point, wouldn’t you have thought, If he doesn’t love me enough to ask me to marry him, he can stuff it? It’s not like we’re children, or we haven’t known each other for years.”

  Brea pauses for a long moment and then looks at her husband with an expression on her face most of us only dream about. “I can’t imagine John doing that to me, Ash,” she finally says. “I know a lot of guys take forever to ask women to marry them, but they’re usually sleeping with them. It’s different with Christians, when they aren’t doing that. Nine months is more than enough time considering how long you and Seth have known each other.”

  Knife to the heart. “I can’t imagine John doing this either, Brea, and now you see my dilemma. If I have any self-worth at all, is sticking around the best thing? Or am I enabling him?”

  “I am here,” John says.

  Brea’s quiet. Miles is sucking on his lower lip, and I am about to burst from his cuteness. He’s got a shock of auburn hair that sticks straight up in a baby Mohawk. He even looks like he belongs to Brea. He’s got her big, dark brown eyes and a ready smile. The disparity suddenly grips me.

  “You’re going to have two babies in less than nine months, and I’m going to travel to Taiwan again, worry that I’ve called Seth one too many times, maybe have dinner with the Reasons . . .”

  The Reasons are the singles group at church, I call them that because they all have some particular reason that they aren’t married. Some of them choose their status. I obviously don’t. “This is not what I thought my life would turn out to be,” I continue. “I was doing fine until I made the romantic decision to be with Seth. Before that I had made up my mind to be independent and forget about men. Now I think it’s time to move on with my life.”

  “Maybe it is. Ashley, I hate to see you pining away like this. Seth is a great guy, but what he’s doing to you is criminal. Every time you start to venture out on your own, he gets scared and pulls you back in with some fleeting romantic gesture.”

  I’m nodding. What else can I do? It’s true. I’ve become codependent without even realizing it. I have turned myself into a Dr. Phil show.

  “So you think I should break it off?” This is not an easy question for me. I love Seth. With all my heart I want to be his wife, but not if I have to wait till I’m fifty years old. Seth takes an hour to make up his mind on a lunch beverage. I just don’t have his kind of time. Maybe there’s a little pride mixed in as well—I’m embarrassed that Seth hasn’t asked me by now. The Reasons are all waiting, and if our engagement doesn’t happen, Seth will just be rotated back into the open market.

  “What do you think God wants you to do? Are you forcing something that isn’t meant to be?” Brea’s face looks pinched.

  “Now, there’s the age-old question. I don’t know what God wants me to do. From the looks of it, He wants me to drone away my life in a high-tech company, writing patents that don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”

  “That’s not true. You made your last company a fortune with that last patent.”

  “I didn’t invent it, I just wrote it up, like the scribe I am. I have everything I thought I wanted. I have my Audi convertible, I have a great place living with Kay, and I’m well on my way to my own condominium. I have succeeded in the Silicon Valley, one of the hardest places on earth to make it, and yet I don’t have the one thing I really want.” I hold up baby Miles like Simba on Pride Rock.

  “I didn’t know you ever really wanted to be a mother, Ash.”

  “Neither did I.”

  Brea’s husband pouts and kisses his wife like something out of a soap opera. Oh yeah, this is helping me. He notices Miles in my arms and reaches for the baby. “I’m going to go upstairs and get ready for dinner.”

  Brea reaches up and kisses his cheek. “I’m sorry the place is such a mess, John. You deserve better when you’ve had a hard day.”

  “You’re entitled to your fun days.” John winks and kisses her cheek. “Besides, I feel like Chinese food, anyway.”

  There was a time when I was content to be single. What I’d give to be back in that place. To not feel with every breath that my life is missing something. Seth changed that for me, but unfortunately, nothing else about him has changed—including his ability to make a commitment.

  2

  Ilive in a great little bungalow in downtown Palo Alto. It’s got two bedrooms, two baths, and an anal-retentive owner: my roommate Kay Harding. Kay is a perfectionist who gives Martha a run for the money. While Kay doesn’t hold down a conglomerate by day, she does manage engineers, and that alone makes her a mother by nature. Once, by accident, I opened her toothpaste drawer and everything was lined up like a dentist’s tool table. I slammed it back shut when I thought I heard the music from Twilight Zone playing.

  I used to live alone, but that’s a long story I won’t go into. Let’s just say I had to move out quickly. Kay invited me to her place, and we’ve been roommates ever since. It’s a good combination. She teaches me not to live like a total pig with makeup strewn on the bathroom counter (guests actually use the bathroom and it gets embarrassing) and I teach her that boiling your combs for cleanliness borders on strange. The modern-day odd couple. Of course, we both work in high tech and keep weird business hours too. That helps us understand each other.

  She’s home chopping up vegetables and putting them into a cut crystal salad bowl when I come in and greet her.

  “Where have you been all day?” Kay glances at me. “Your boss called here looking for you a few minutes ago. Thanks for vacuuming, by the way. The place looks great.”

  “You’re welcome. I was at Brea’s for most of the day. We went to the mall and got a few things for the baby.”

  “Which one?”

  “Miles.”

  Kay nods. Her perfectly coiffed hair, circa 1974, doesn’t move when she nods. It’s so amazing that they still make Aqua Net. “Listen,” Kay says. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you about some business I thought we might enter into.”

  “You need legal advice?”

  “No.” She looks down at the salad bowl. “This is a business deal, and I think it would be great for both of us. With interest rates being so low, I’m planning to redo the house a bit. You know, expand the kitchen, update the bathrooms . . .”

  I swallow hard. Please don’t let this involve a move for me. “Really? What would you do? I think it looks great now.” This house is in the best neighborhood in Palo Alto. Just having a foundation in town makes it worth nearly a million, and with the original hardwood floors in perfect condition, well, the place is a gold mine.

  Kay is apparently not satisfied. “I really want a gourmet kitchen with granite countertops and a Viking stove. That kind of thing. I want to push this wall out. Maybe rip out the bathrooms . . .”

  “Sounds great,” I say without enthusiasm. Granite? She still uses Aqua Net and Noxzema, but wants granite? I so do not get Kay. “So you want me to move out?” I ask tentatively.

  “No!” She laughs. “No, I was wondering if you were interested in buying half the house from me. You have the money for a down payment, and you could probably use the write-off. And this way I wouldn’t have to borrow as much for the upgrades. I’d get the house appraised so the deal would be totally fair, and you could make me an offer. What do you think?”

  Slowly, I find the chair behind me. Kay thinks I’m a Reason. She holds out absolutely no hope for Seth asking me to marry him, and so she’s offering me the consolation prize: financial stability. Real estate in the Bay Area. We’re just two old bus baits making the best of life without men. How long until we start filling up the house with a multitude of cats?

  I finally find my voice. “Wow, that’s a really generous offer, Kay. You’ve just completely caught me off guard. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Take your time and think about it. I just think living together works f
or us: we don’t get in each other’s way, it’s nice to have you help with the weekly Bible study, and you keep your mess in your room.” Kay grabs a pair of teak forks and tosses the salad. “I think it would be good for you, too. You would have a write-off and get to keep more of your money. Maybe you’d be able to do more shopping. You seem to enjoy that.”

  Fear and trembling. Kay is forty-three now, and she’s said numerous times she won’t ever get married. She came from an abusive home and doesn’t think much of the male species, in general. But her idea makes me feel icky. Like if I get too comfortable in this situation, I won’t ever have the chance for another boyfriend because people will assume I don’t want one. And I do want one. I just happen to want one particular person who doesn’t seem to return the emotion. At least not in full.

  “I’d really have to think on that, Kay. I don’t mind the mess if you’re going to remodel, but wow, buying part of it! Are you sure?”

  “I think it’s good for Christian women to help other Christian women. Lord knows, we don’t get much help otherwise.” Her barb sends a shiver of fear through my soul. I don’t hate men. And even though God hasn’t given me a particular man, I still hold out hope. Kay is well past that.

  “Do you think I need the help?” I ask, knowing she’ll guess I’m referring to Seth.

  “I just don’t think you should put all your eggs in one basket. Especially when the Easter Bunny isn’t real.”

  Kay made a funny. Go figure. “Did Seth call me while I was gone?” I ask sheepishly, knowing full well he didn’t.

  “Yeah, he did. Well, he called here anyway.”

  Then she says nothing. For as long as I’ve lived with Kay, I just don’t get how she doesn’t share “girl” information readily. Isn’t that just part of being a woman? The dish?

  “Well? What did he say?”

  “He actually called for me.” She grimaces, as though she’s sorry, but not surprised. “There’s a special at Laser Quest. Three games for the price of two. Seth wanted to know if he should organize a singles’ night there.”

  Of course he did. “Laser Quest. So Kay, I have a question. Do you think Seth will ever get married?”

  “Are you asking me if I think he’ll ever marry you?”

  “No, I’m not asking that. Lord knows, I don’t want the answer to that. I’m asking, do you think he’ll ever get married at all?”

  Kay shrugs, pops a bright red hothouse tomato into her mouth, and tosses the salad again. “Hard to say. You’re the only woman I remember him dating for any length of time, and he hasn’t asked you. Regardless, I don’t think any woman should put her life on hold for a man who isn’t willing to commit. Everyone else seems to date, and . . .” she snaps her fingers. “Boom, they get married. There’s something about girls like us, Ashley. Perhaps we just were never meant for that kind of life.”

  Girls like us. I have now completely stopped breathing. I always thought I was a girl like Brea, but maybe that’s just completely wishful thinking. I study Kay carefully. She’s very pretty, not hard on the eyes at all. Gorgeous gray-green eyes, clear complexion, not a wrinkle on her. Granted, her clothes and hair could use the female version of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, but I can’t see anything physically wrong with her. I rush to the mirror at the front door. Maybe that’s why I can’t see anything wrong with me, either.

  Coming back into the kitchen, I smile. “There’s a singles’ Christian cruise going out of Long Beach next month. I’m thinking of taking it.” There. That sounds decisive and not passive.

  Kay wrinkles her nose. “That sounds fun if you’re into that kind of thing. I think it would be the equivalent of a floating pickup bar. It doesn’t really interest me, and I can’t imagine you there either, Ash.”

  I lean against the doorjamb. My mouth is watering over Kay’s salad. “Why do you think Seth came to Las Vegas to get me at my brother’s wedding? I mean, it was the most romantic gesture, but I can’t imagine him doing that now. Why did he nix that job in Phoenix if he never intended to get married?”

  Kay washes and dries her hands, looking thoughtfully at me. “If you’re asking me about the male psyche, you’re asking the wrong person. Ashley, just tell Seth what you’re feeling. Why do you put your-self through all this emotion, when it can be solved with a simple conversation? I mean, a cruise, Ash? If you want to meet the kind of guy who would win the hairy-chest contest on deck, that’s great. But you can’t control everything. If God doesn’t want you to be married, I’ve got news for you . . .”

  “Why do you say that? That God doesn’t want me married.”

  “I didn’t say that. I said if He doesn’t, there’s really nothing you can do about it.”

  I stand up taller. I am not the kind of woman who stays single. I’m just not. Why can’t everyone see that? I’ve got a great job, an incredible shoe collection, just a million things to offer a guy, and I’m not going to be single forever. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not!

  My cell phone rings, this time with my boss’s specially programmed ring. “Hello, Hans.” Jokingly, I call the man Hands because he seems to have eight of them. No, he’s never touched me, but something about the way he oozes sensuality makes me feel like he has.

  “How was your day off, Ashley?”

  “Fun. I went shopping with my friend and her baby.” And apparently, that is the end of our small talk.

  “One of our engineers came up with an idea that I think has legs.”

  “Great! We can talk about it first thing tomorrow. Do you want to schedule me in?”

  “Actually, I mean this product has real legs. I’d like you to meet me for dinner at Il Fornaio. Can you be there by seven?”

  I’ve just started this job after being out of work for six months. Although I had a nice severance package and never feared financially, I don’t care to go through the job-hunting process again anytime soon. “Sure, Hans. I’ll be there.” Call waiting breaks in. “I’ve got another call. See you soon.”

  “Hello.” Caller ID is not showing up. Grr. “Ashley Stockingdale.”

  “Ash, it’s Seth.”

  “Hi.” I automatically start fiddling with my hair.

  “You want to meet me at the Soup House for dinner?”

  The Soup House. Complete meals for both of us for $11, compared to the elegant Italian Il Fornaio in downtown Palo Alto. Without question I’d rather go cheap with Seth, but I can’t. “I’m sorry, but I have to work tonight. I’m meeting my boss for dinner at Il Fornaio.”

  “Sure, I understand.” I can tell by his voice that he doesn’t understand. He’s not jealous, just annoyed that I’m not available when he has a whim. How am I supposed to know there’s a blue moon tonight?

  “Maybe we could meet tomorrow,” I say brightly.

  “I’m flying to Seattle tomorrow. I’ll have to call you when I get back, okay?”

  “Sure.” We sound like two complete strangers. This isn’t how it used to be. We had passion and desire for one another and it was a battle of wills for each of us to stay pure. Now I feel like I’m talking to my history professor, rather than the man I might have married. I guess it really is over, and this is what it feels like when nobody mentions that fact.

  Nine months ago, when I thought Seth was leaving for Arizona, I was content at being a “Reason,” someone who probably wouldn’t get married. But now that I’ve been in love, now that I’ve felt what it’s like to have someone look at me with “those” eyes, I know what I’m missing. The hole feels bigger and darker than I imagined, and I don’t want to go back down there like a hobbit in the caves of Moria. With all my heart, I want to avoid that pit.

  Kay’s putting the finishing touches on her salad, tossing the greens with a homemade citrus-cilantro dressing and placing it on her Crate and Barrel table. The only thing Kay spends money on is kitchenware. “Are you ready to eat?” She asks me.

  “I have to go meet Hands.”

  “Ashley! No.”

  “Wh
at? I was without a job for six months, Kay. I am not going that route again.”

  “You never wanted for anything when you were out of work. Quit acting like you were on the verge of insanity.”

  “Even with my severance package, I didn’t feel safe to shop or go to the fancy market. I, Ashley Wilkes Stockingdale, actually shopped at Kmart,” I say, like I’m at an AA meeting. “I don’t ever want to do that again.”

  “You’ve spent ministry summers in Mexico. Surely you know what poverty is really like. Shopping at Kmart is not poverty.”

  “I was perfectly content to live the simple life in Mexico. But not here in Silicon Valley. Not where you’re judged by what you do. God created me to be a lawyer. I love patents. What kind of geek loves patents? He didn’t give me Ann Taylor tastes without a purpose.”

  Kay is laughing heartily. “Are you trying to tell me it’s God’s will that you should be able to shop at Stanford?”

  I cross my arms. Oh, how I hate to be laughed at. “No, I’m trying to tell you that I am a very capable person. I tithe more than my 10 percent. I don’t have anyone depending on me, and since I’m a conscientious, hard-working Christian, God enables me to do some of the things I enjoy. Like buying clothing that fits my lifestyle as a top patent attorney. I don’t ever again want to be unable to do what I was born to do.”

  Kay shakes her head. “I’ll never be hungry for couture again!” she declares, holding up a fist. “Don’t give God the control speech, Ashley. It’s like saying you’ll never go to Iraq on a mission. Tell Him that and you might as well just pack your bags.”

  “I’m going to get dressed for my dinner.”

  “Suit yourself. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Warn me. Oh yeah, she warned me all right. Kay warned me I’d be living in this same house with seven cats at eighty years old. We’d be the old-lady house where the kids are afraid to trick-or-treat. All I can say is not in this lifetime. If it’s over with Seth, it is, but I refuse to believe I’m over.