What a Girl Wants (33 page)

I asked Kay, but she feels that Vegas is not where God would lead her. I heartily agree, but I have no choice in the matter. My brother is getting married and that miracle would drag me to the bowels of the earth if necessary.

I thought about asking Dr. Kevin as a “friend,” but Vegas somehow implies that sex is included in the ticket, so no. And I’m not convinced at all that his newfound Seeker Status is anything but a ploy to bring me back around.

Seth wouldn’t assume that sex is part of a trip to Vegas, but he’s not speaking to me. Besides, why dredge up emotions when it’s obviously over? He’s leaving this week and, chances are, he’s avoiding me until he leaves. I long for his friendship again, but I know that needs to be ended as well. Both for his well-being and my own.

I see my face looks like a prune, I’m so cried out from obsessing about what I should have done. What I should have said. Not about Selectech. About Seth. I’m sick of gulping into my pillow at night, stifling my tears so I don’t wake Kay, not to mention manufacturing mucus in Sam’s Club quantity. Having a crush on Seth was fun; getting over him is not.

I stare in my bathroom mirror with an utter lack of emotion. I never thought I was the type who would define herself by a relationship, and I don’t, but Seth was a constant ray of hope in my life. The Omnipresent Potential. A reason to buy new clothes. I realize it wasn’t
him,
of course. It was the hope I was addicted to. I know that God is with me, and I wouldn’t want to marry without His consent, but I want a reason to buy new shoes!

My hair is finally long enough for a clip and I pin it back. Powdering Jane Iredale foundation onto my skin, I brush some blush on my cheeks and finish with my Stila lip polish.
That’s as
good as it gets.
I blow a kiss to the mirror.

I’m on the 2 p.m. flight after church to Vegas, but I’m singing a solo in service today. I spent a long time in prayer this morning, praying for my brother and Mei Ling and their life together. I hope they’ll be very happy and that I can be happy for them. I think I’m past petty jealousy, but you never know. It seems so unfair that God should give Dave a life partner and me a big lesson on living single.

Brea is coming to the wedding, so I won’t be alone, but she’s bringing John. So that’s no fun. They’ll dance, gazing into each other’s eyes to old Journey tunes, while I fend off unemployed cousins with goin’ nowhere stories—and fight my aunts who try and fluff my hair to full ’80s capacity.
Oh yeah, can’t wait for this.

All my good intentions to befriend my new sister-in-law have gone the way of the Intel 486. Lost amid the “have tos” of job-hunting and singing in the church band. Life with Kay has become an eclectic experience. It’s
different
having a roommate. She’s not like a “normal” roommate, meaning someone you can ask, “Does my butt look fat in this?” or “Can you see my bra strap from the back?” But she’s a fabulous cook and is teaching me volumes about productivity and organization.

Did you know you can actually get out the door earlier if you don’t try on six outfits in the morning? Granted, you’ll feel uncomfortable all day because you weren’t in the mood for that certain blouse, but you’re there on time. Of course, now I don’t have a
there
to be, but that’s another whine. I am no longer a whiner. Come what may. I’m Annie, singing “Tomorrow”! I’m Maria on
Sound of Music!
Perhaps that’s a bit too optimistic.

Were it not for Kay’s fetish with Valentine’s Day, I might even love being here in her darling little bungalow. I’ve made the bed- room and extra bath my own. I decorated with rich Sheridan fabrics the day before finances became an issue.

There’s a knock at my bathroom door. “Are you ready, Ashley?” Kay asks.

I take one last run-through at my hair. “As ready as I’m going to be.” I open the bathroom door, and Kay has that pitying look on her face. “I’m fine,” I say.

“Just go and enjoy the wedding.”

“I plan to. I do!”

The phone rings and I dash for it. Every time it rings, I have this flush of guilt because it’s never for Kay.
In her own home!
I’ve got to get my own line before she kicks me out for disturbing the peace.

“Hello,” I say.

“Ashley, it’s Brea.”

“You better be coming today.”

“Relax. I’m coming.” Brea clears her throat. “I’m calling to remind you this is your brother’s day and that’s okay. Your brother did not ‘win’ because he’s doing something before you, all right?”

“What are you, my conscience?”

“Someone needs to be. This is the biggest day of his life, Ash. There’s no graduation; there’s no promotion at work. This is big for Dave. Okay?”

But I don’t feel any of the angst she’s predicting. I’m actually very happy for Dave and really excited to take a break from Silicon Valley. I kinda love my brother. Granted, I’ve endured life with him as my human tormentor. He’s told me for twenty years no sucker would marry me, given me a wedgie at the junior dance, invited his friends to read my diary, forged a love note from me to the quarterback . . . the list goes on. But Dave has changed, and it’s time I did too.

I breathe deeply. “I’m perfectly calm. I’m going to sing at church today, and I’ve been praying all morning, so you needn’t worry. Dave’s happiness is my own.”

“When you’re relaxed like this, that’s when I worry.”

“I’ll see you at church.” I hang up on her before she can harangue me any further.

Kay and I pile into her Honda Accord, and I warm up my voice all the way to church—which drives poor Kay into gripping the steering wheel with tense hands.

“I’m not that bad.”

“Your voice is beautiful, and you know it, Ash. I’m just nervous about church today. I’m meeting someone after service.”

“You are?”
Oops, too much surprise in the voice.
“I mean, that’s great, Kay. Is it someone I know?”
Please, oh please, don’t let it be
Seth. Please don’t rub that in my face, Lord.

“No, just someone I met at another church group when I went with Sharon.”

“What’s he do for a living?”

She dares to face me. “What do you think?”

“He’s a professional bungee jumper,” I deadpan.

“Yep. An engineer.”

“I hope you have a great time anyway. Did you bring a coupon with you?” I joke.

“Got one in my purse for three restaurants.”

“You’re all set then.”

Kay and I part company at church, and I go in the back to practice with the band. The ambiance candles are all lit and the church members are all taking their seats in the high-school theatre. Seth is, of course, right in the front row. He’s leaving on Friday. It’s a done deal, signed on the dotted line, his place having a “For Sale” sign out front. I drove by.

The church band opens with a rockin’ praise song that shakes the house. Everyone is dancing and lifting their arms in worship. While fired up, I wait for the pastor to introduce today’s message, and I take the stage to belt out my song of worship. For the first time in years, I focus on Him. Not who’s watching me, not even Seth in the front row. Just Him. I feel filled to capacity when I’m done.

After polite applause, I dare to take a seat next to Seth in the front row. The front row is the only half-empty one near me, and I decide to be a Big Girl and sit where God is leading me.

“Beautiful,” he whispers after a moment, then takes my hand. My hand! It’s a gesture of friendship, of truce, not love. Right? I force myself to steal a glance at him, but his expression gives me no answers. I squeeze his hand tighter.
Don’t go,
I implore with the strength of my grip.

“You can sing, woman.” Dr. Kevin Novak has just slipped into the seat on the other side of me and Seth quickly removes his hand. I’m torn. I feel like Kevin’s salvation and Seth’s ego rest squarely on my shoulders, and it’s all about balance.

The competition between the two men is obvious, each one determined—Seth to not be mocked, and Kevin to not lose this invisible war. After a lengthy sermon that I couldn’t concentrate on for fear I was sweating too much, the last song plays and I’m left standing beside both men.

“So I’m on my way to Vegas today,” I say as casual conversation.

“Me too,” Seth says.

“What?”

“I got a flight to Phoenix through Vegas for $50 round trip. One last house-hunting expedition.”

“How much is that wasted hour in sin city worth to you?” Kevin asks.

Seth shrugs. “About a hundred bucks, I suppose.”

The scene is really uncomfortable. I want to talk alone with Seth, but Kevin is not leaving and now that we’re playing dating
Survivor,
he’s not about to. I wish I had a rose. I’d have my own private
Bachelorette
rose ceremony. Kevin is here at church, however, and there could be a lot at stake in regard to his faith. The only way to get out safely is to say good-bye to them both at once.

I swallow hard, take a deep breath, and excuse myself. “I need to get to the airport. I’ll see you both when I get back.” But I know I won’t see Seth, and the idea leaves me short of breath.

“Call me when you get in. Do you need a ride from the airport?” Kevin asks.

Bless his heart, he’s a sweet agnostic, if nothing else. “No, thank you.”

I try to casually beckon Seth privately with my forefinger, but he doesn’t notice. My eyes connect with his. I know he feels it. There’s no denying the pull this time. He comes closer, ignoring Kevin’s presence. “Good-bye, Ashley.” He kisses me on the cheek, and I grasp his hand.

“You’re really leaving?” I whisper through my tears. Kevin senses the crowd feel and rubs my back to say good-bye. I ignore him. I only have eyes for Seth in this moment.

“I’ll be a VP,” Seth explains.

“In Arizona. You’ve always said that Silicon Valley is the place to be, Seth. This is where you stay for a long-term career in high-tech. Didn’t you tell me that once?”

“I probably said a lot of stupid things. When you start looking for work, Ashley, you might not be so picky in this economy. Moving up around here has become impossible.”

He steps even closer to me, and I don’t even care where Kevin is at this point. I can feel the heat from Seth’s chest, the energy between us. But I don’t back away. I give him my own silent challenge. He’s within inches of my face now, and I’m wondering if he’ll kiss me right here in church. I hold my breath, waiting. It’s not like we meet in a sanctuary—we’re in a high-school gym—but still. Kissing in church? Way uncool. But my worrying is for naught. He pulls away from my gaze and steps back. My breath rushes from me.

“I’ll e-mail you when I get back. Have fun at your brother’s wedding.” Seth nods and turns away.

“I’ll be at the Viva Vegas chapel if you want to stop during your layover,” I say, pathetically throwing myself his way.

He waves me off and continues to walk away, never even glancing back. Kevin is quickly beside me again.

“Everything okay?” Kevin asks.

“Fine. Just the way things are supposed to be.”

“Good. Let’s get some lunch before you leave for the airport. I’ll drive you,” Kevin offers. And I have nothing left in me to resist. But I’ll explain the equally-yoked passages over lunch. Some good needs to come from this day. And this friendship. I wave to Kay, letting her know she’s off the hook as my ride, and I look to Kevin like I’m headed for the gallows.

33

T
he wedding chapel is gloomy dark, except for rainbow beams of light that come through the geometric stained-glass windows. There are no saints on this stained glass, only diamond and spade designs and, if I’m not mistaken, a single green dollar sign. I laugh at the thought of Dave picking the place. He loves to shock people, and I’m sure that was his intention here.

Truthfully, I’m a little creeped out, but I can see my brother’s flair for drama in all the details. There’s bloodred curtains draping down the walls and French white sheaths of fabric on the chairs with clown-sized bows on their backs. Tiny twinkle lights blink obnoxiously like it’s Christmas every day in Vegas, and I just know my brother will laugh about this until the day he dies.

Mei Ling must be a saint to put up with my brother. My traditional Chinese favors are going to go unnoticed amidst this assault circus on the senses. There are silk (nice way of saying fake) flowers everywhere, like a Jo-Ann fabric store exploded. The cathedral ceiling is enormous—cavernous might be a better word—with a black theatrical ceiling. I’m completely overwhelmed and can’t focus on any one place because another light blips and captures my line of sight.

I was deluged before I even walked in by the bevy of virginal white brides in the casino. Weddings, casinostyle, seem to include an abundance of cleavage.

Although the chapel seats fifty, there are nine people here besides the bride and groom. My three aunts—in full, sparkly, low-cut regalia to rival the casino brides—my parents, Brea and John, and the best man: Chip Light-me-another-one Standish. It’s so Ricki Lake, and I’m really feeling for my brother, except I know this is
his
ultimate wedding. And Mei Ling doesn’t seem to care. In the back room, she was actually giggling about her Vegas wedding being better than she imagined. That Dave certainly knew how to throw a party, and she loved that about him—how he was always the center of any party. She also informed me that they’re going to use the wedding money to go on a cruise to the Bahamas.
She’s
quite a woman to be able to tolerate this, even enjoy it. And obviously
even more right for Dave than I thought.

I’m waiting at the end of the aisle, across from my brother, who looks like he could faint at any moment. I can see him breathing from ten feet away—not a good sign. Silently, I’m praying he’ll get through this. I wonder what it’s like to make a commitment to marriage when you haven’t even graduated to living on your own yet. I guess I haven’t had the proper respect for the step he’s taking.

I’m actually holding my own. I must admit the whole day is a bit surreal to me, like it’s not really happening. Maybe I’ll have this huge Light Bulb Moment when I realize I’m dateless at my brother’s wedding, but for now I’m just thankful I’m not getting married here.