What a Girl Wants (25 page)
The waiter is at our table, rattling off specials in another language. Food I’ll never be able to enjoy, at prices that remind me how much Seth is paying for another woman. Kevin is everything I should want. He’s handsome, he’s successful, he’s ready to be serious with a woman and I’m pining over Baldy in the corner! What is my problem?
“Miss?” the waiter asks. “Did you have any questions about the specials?”
“What? Um, no. No questions. It all sounds divine, thank you. I just need a minute.” I force myself to focus.
“I should have asked you if you liked French food,” Kevin says.
“You know, Kevin, I’m just glad to be out. I’m not in Taiwan. I’m having the most elegant dinner of my year with a handsome surgeon. Life is good, and I need to express a little gratitude for that. So thank you.” I’ve almost convinced myself.
“You’re most welcome,” Kevin rips off a piece of bread from the loaf.
Seeing the colorful spices drenched in rich green olive oil, my stomach nearly loses it.
I have to get through this night
. If I don’t, I’ll never graduate, never progress past my pitiful crush on Seth. I guess it’s a crush. Although, I would have never known I was interested if it hadn’t been for Arin.
The waiter’s back with his annoying French accent. “Have we decided then?”
“I’ll have the salmon special,” I say with confidence I don’t feel. I think I heard salmon in that litany of ingredients he rattled off.
I cross my hands on the table and set about to learn everything about Dr. Kevin Novak, trying to ignore anything I feel about Seth being here. Bad coincidence, that’s all. “You said that day in the café that you liked the beach. Do you get to go often?”
“Not really.”
“So then what’s your story, Dr. Novak?”
He gets comfortable with the question and then begins. “Well, I come from humble beginnings, but I guess you could see that when you met my parents.”
“Really, you think? They seem like society people to me.”
“They are, of course, but they’re humble about which country club they belong to. They belong to the one with the finest doctors, not people with the most money.”
No hint of laughter. He’s not kidding. I look over to Seth, who’s wearing a tie.
Seth owns a tie, go figure.
“Will you belong to a country club eventually?”
“Why do you ask?” Kevin’s eyes narrow. “Is it something you’ve always wanted to do?”
I shake my head. “Not really, no.”
“Country Clubs offer an abundance of opportunities. It’s nice to be able to mingle with people who understand you.”
Again my gaze veers towards Seth. “Yes, it is.” The Reasons understand me.
“My parents called me to tell me how much they enjoyed meeting you. They are hoping to meet your parents next time they’re in town.”
“Really?” I can’t help but think if given the opportunity, his parents would ask me for a DNA sampling. “I thought I blew it with them.”
“No. Not at all. They knew you were exhausted—just back from a trip. I don’t run across many beautiful, available attorneys. They’re excited for me.”
“Ah,” I manage. And there’s an uneasy silence that falls between us like a Gray Davis blackout.
I’m trying to keep my facial expressions neutral. Money, I suppose, is something I’ve taken for granted living in the Silicon Valley. Money is everywhere, and millionaires are a dime a dozen, but I never aspired to be a socialite. I’m happy shopping at Ann Taylor once in a while and driving my sports car. I’m not considered wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, but I would imagine most thirty-year-olds are rich in Silicon Valley.
But this.
This kind of socialite money is foreign to me and I don’t like it any more than I like freshly killed crustacean.
“Do your parents come to California often?” I don’t know what else to ask. It’s either that or,
How many times a year will I
have to endure them if we last beyond tonight’s date?
“Couple times a year. Often on their way to Hawaii or Japan. They love to travel.” Kevin sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. He sees his parents as an advantage to a relationship, not the frightening deterrent they are. “So, enough about me. What do you do for fun?”
My eyes pop open.
The challenge: make the Reasons sound normal
. Not a difficult task, except Kevin probably grew up playing polo and hasn’t studied
Star Trek
since its inception.
“I hang out a lot with my church singles group. Sometimes we watch a movie at someone’s house. Sometimes we head to Applebee’s. That kind of thing.” I shrug, like we’re so typical. See, I don’t mention that we see the
same
movie, or that chain restaurants are fine dining. I don’t even say a thing about Talent Night and publicly humiliating ourselves in the local Starbucks. There’s that little twinge of guilt again. I’m remembering that sermon on the sin of omission. But I’m not really officially omitting anything. I’m editing. There’s a distinct difference.
“Arin’s friend seems to see you.”
I turn around and see Seth wave, but I turn before I can acknowledge him. “Seth. His name is Seth.”
“Wasn’t that crazy what Arin did? Taking off to a foreign country like that?”
“Maybe she’ll be a full-time missionary. Who knows?”
“Missionary?” Kevin shakes his head. “Well, stranger things have happened.”
“Oddly, I can picture her there in her wild capris. She really has such a magnetic personality, and she loves adventure, so who knows when we’ll see her back.”
“Seth doesn’t seem to mind her absence, or at least he didn’t for long, judging by his date over there. I can’t say I miss her much.”
I look back and see Seth and the redhead laughing. Well, I can’t really see the redhead laughing, just her locks swaying as she tosses her head about. Her hair is beautiful, but I secretly hope she has the face of chopped liver.
“Seth and Arin never really dated,” I explain. “They had just met when Arin left.”
“But even if they went out once, Arin has a way of making you feel you were on the verge of marriage. Trust me on that one.”
My cheeks are twitching. “Arin wouldn’t knowingly mess with people’s minds that way. I’m sure it’s just her outgoing personality.”
“My parents liked her too, until she showed up spouting all this religious talk.” He rolls his eyes. “I could have died. She takes that stuff in, I tell you.”
“She’s rock solid in her faith, there’s no denying that,” I say, like I’m the pinnacle of moral righteousness. Me, who sits and covets a man across the restaurant
. I wonder if you hear the thunder
after you’re struck by lightning.
But I’m rolling his words about Arin around in my head. Are his parents not believers? And why would they be upset about Arin talking of her faith? More importantly, why would Kevin not stand up for her?
I study the man across the table from me and choke down a bite of bread. I’m overanalyzing, as usual. I’m sure of it.
A
fter my date, Kevin, the perfect gentleman, kisses me platonically on the cheek, which leaves me a bit puzzled. Brea greets me at the door and eagerly pulls me inside, her hands clasped under her chin. “So?”
The two little pugs she bought when she married are nipping at my feet, their pushed-in faces annoyed they must share their master. They seem to be taking it out on me.
“Tell me, tell me! Is he as dreamy as he looks?” Brea asks.
“I’ll be upstairs,” John announces with a shake of his head. “I can’t stomach this conversation where you two plot the demise of another guy.”
“Oh, you!” Brea kisses him playfully.
“Good night, John,” I say, watching him skulk away. “Kevin’s very nice, Brea. He’s—” But I falter. I can’t keep up the show. I’ve been working at it all night, and I feel the first sting of pain when I start to tell her how wonderful Kevin is. I dissolve into tears and they flow freely as I realize the enormity of seeing Seth with another woman. “We were having a wonderful time until”—sniffle here—“I got dumped all over again.” I pat myself steadily on the chest. “I did the dumping. I kissed Seth goodbye. How dare he show up at the restaurant!”
“Ash, what happened? What on earth are you talking about?”
“Seth was there.” (Wailing here.) “With a redhead.” (More wailing.) If I were speaking in tongues, I might be more understandable. But I’m just wailing. The Jewish people have the Wailing Wall; I have Brea. No pretenses, no false fronts, just Ashley Wilkes Stockingdale unleashed in all my pathetic glory.
Brea crosses her arms. “You have gotta be kidding me.”
My tears stop with a sniffle. “What?”
“You are crying over Seth out with a redhead? He’s a Reason, Ashley. How many times have you said that when I said he was interested in you?”
There’s not an ounce of sympathy, and my pain quickly turns to anger. “Hey, was I not with you when you cried over whatshisname all through high school? When he asked Kohli to the prom . . . did I not ingest ice cream, truffles, and Coke all night with you? You so owe me. I probably own six pounds of your misery on these hips.”
“That was different,” Brea says as she plops on the couch, quickly piled on by two dogs.
“How is it different? Did you ever even date Kyle Lupinchec?”
Brea balks a bit, “No, but—”
“Did Kyle have your car in his garage? And put all of your stuff into storage so you wouldn’t have to worry about it?”
“Seth would do that for anyone.”
“I’m going to a hotel,” I announce. “I’m going to call a counseling hotline so I can talk to
someone who cares.”
“Ash, come on.”
“No.” I force fists to my hips for effect. “How come it’s okay for you to be the drama queen, but when I have an emotional set-back, I’m just supposed to get over it?”
“Because you’re Ashley. The smart one. The stable one. The one everyone wants their son to marry. I’m the bad gene pool with- out the brains, remember? And now I can’t even have kids, so I can’t even do that part right.”
“What!” I’m tempted to put my hands around my best friend’s neck. She’s gone nuts. There’s no other answer. I will have to visit her in the “hospital” that no one calls a hospital. “You had one miscarriage, Brea. Not everything in life is perfect and tied in neat little ribbons. I know most of your life has been like that, but this is something you have to work for. I work for
everything
, Brea. There’s no husband or parents to rescue me. Who rescued me when my car got impounded in San Francisco?”
Brea shuffles her feet. “My parents.”
“And who stood up at my college graduation and cheered for the right school, unlike my own parents who thought I majored in business?”
“My parents and me.”
“Neat little packages, Brea. You tick me off.”
“Seth is a neat little package, Ashley. All tied up with a red bow, but you never unwrapped him because you always thought a better present was coming along.”
“I did not! That is so not true.” How dare she accuse me of being a man shopper!
“Uh huh. I think you’ve been in love with Seth a long time. You’ve just never been humble enough to admit your frailty. Well, you’re human just like me! Just like Dave. Just like your mother. That just drives you nuts, doesn’t it?”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“You pretend like you’re so distraught and so mental over all this stuff Seth has done to you, but this is
your
doing. Seth has always cared for you, always been there for you, and you’ve avoided him because he was not your Prince Charming. Because you imagine this romantic Cinderella story for yourself.”
I’m dumbstruck.
“Prince Charming can’t carry off a career woman who’s above the common romantic entanglement.”
“Career woman? How can I be anything but? I have to support myself here.”
Brea is unrelenting. “What did you say when Seth asked you on the ski trip to have dinner alone?”
“I had work to do, Brea. I’d already spent the day skiing. The Reasons were all there. It would have looked weird for us to go off by ourselves.”
“What did you say to Seth when he asked you to help him lead the singles Bible study last year?”
“I was traveling every other week. How would I have prepared for that?”
“And what did you just say when he asked you to watch
The
Matrix
with him on your birthday?”
“That was him and Sam and their stupid weekly ritual. That wasn’t a real invitation.”
“I’d say Seth has done more than his share to reach out to you, and you’ve clubbed him over the head one too many times, Ashley Wilkes Stockingdale. And now you
have
Prince Charming on the line and you suddenly want the cook who’s been in the kitchen all along!”
I’m shaking my head. “You’re wrong, Brea. None of those instances were like you’re saying. There were practical reasons he asked me for all those things. Look at the dinner at Fresh Choice? Hmmm?”
“Payback stinks, doesn’t it? And practical is what you get with a man like Seth. You’d squash a romantic guy like a bug on the sidewalk.”
I clutch my chest. “Ouch.”
“I rest my case,” Brea says. “So pine over Seth or Kevin, or whoever you’re making out with this week, but get some focus. They’re both wonderful from what I can see. Make up your mind and find out who you want before you end up with no one.” Brea starts up the stairs. “Oh, and John and I are adopting that baby. I want the child to grow up in a Christian home, and there’s one way I can make sure that happens.” She slams the door upstairs.
What is it with me making people so angry lately?
I play Scarlett.
I’ll think about that another day
. I sign on my computer, and there are only two e-mails. Now that I have Spamkiller, I realize I have absolutely no friends. There’s one e-mail from Seth, and I open it immediately.
From: [email protected]
Ash, here’s your account number and password for your furniture,
etc.
657584 Password: 777 (made that up, lucky?)
I explained to Larry re: Taiwan.
When you have a place, call him.
I have a working dinner tonight with one of the Barbies.