What a Girl Needs (11 page)

I take a step back. “What?” I struggle to comprehend her words. “Brea and John lost their house?”

She covers her mouth with her fingertips and gasps. “Oh Ashley, I’m sorry. I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

“That’s why I’m staying here? They lost their house? My best friend lost her house and she didn’t tell me? I noticed it looked different on Skype, but I assumed she just moved her desktop.”

“Not from anything they did, but yeah. They’re living at her mom’s house.”

“With the boys?”

Kay nods.

I feel sick to my tummy. I may as well be in Timbuktu for how much people share with me over Facebook and Skype. It’s like I cease to exist and people seem to like it that way.
Maybe I am too judgmental
. “I thought I was a good friend. I guess I’m mistaken about that.”

“Brea didn’t want you to worry, Ashley. She knows you, and she swore you’d try to do something about it. She feels adamantly that this trial is from God and they’ll get through it. She says their marriage is stronger than ever.”

See, that’s just it. Brea feels something, and I had no idea.

“But I couldn’t do anything about it if I wanted to,” I explain. “I’m not working. Kevin barely makes enough to pay for expenses, so that can’t be the reason she didn’t tell me. I’m a terrible friend. That’s why no one has told me a thing since I’ve been gone.”

“Sometimes, people have their reasons for keeping secrets.”

“From their best friends? You and Brea probably know me better than anyone and completely kept me out of the loop. That can’t be a coincidence.”

Kay plants her hands on her hips. “Were you going to tell me that Seth made a pass at you, telling you he wanted out of his marriage?” she asks me, and she may as well have knocked me over with the backside of that cookie sheet. My heart begins to pound, as I hadn’t planned on telling anyone what Seth said to me.

“Seth’s just angry. He didn’t mean a word of that and it wasn’t really a pass. Seth couldn’t make a pass when he was single and you expect me to believe he’s capable of it now and risking Arin? You give him far too much credit.”

“I heard him. It was inappropriate. The vent goes right to where you were standing. You may as well have had a baby monitor at your face. I had to keep Arin out of the kitchen so she didn’t hear her husband acting like a complete dirtbag.”

“Seth is delusional,” I tell her. “We never had any such torrid love affair. It was one-sided the entire time. It took him saying that to me for me to realize it. He loves Arin, and he hates that because it makes him weak. Emotions are Seth’s Kryptonite.”

“I agree. But, were you planning on telling Kevin?” Her brows rise. “What about Brea?”

I pause. “Kevin knows I have no interest in Seth, so what would be the point? To make him worry needlessly?”

“Which is why I think you should tell him, Ashley, but you definitely shouldn’t judge Brea for keeping her secrets, or me for keeping mine. We had our reasons.”

“I want to go home.” I saunter out of the kitchen. “Kevin’s at home saving lives. I really doubt that he cares that Seth is going through hallucinations and an early midlife crisis. Seth just can’t control Arin, and that has to drive him nuts.”

“I’d still tell Kevin.”

“I’m going to pack.”

“You’re not going to help me plan my wedding?”

“I didn’t even know you were dating. I’m going home.”

“Quit being a drama queen. It’s a simple wedding. We’d like to get married in the backyard. What did you think the pergola was for?”

“A picnic! I thought it was for picnics and BBQs.”

“Matt says he loves me and he respects my faith, so why can’t I respect that he doesn’t have a faith?”

Um, because he’s got some chick’s thong under your guest bed?

“I get it. It seems to make practical sense, but you act like if you don’t marry Matt, you’ll be alone forever.” Which, let’s face it, would be an improvement!

“I want to have a child,” Kay says, and I’m gobsmacked.

“Since when? You do know that children make messes, right? I mean, like worse-than-me-as-a-roommate messes.”

“Is being alone and not having a partner in life something God really wants from me? Is this my reward? The casual, drive-by friendships of ‘The Reasons’?”

I laugh. Most inappropriate time ever, but, she caught me unaware. “I’ve never heard you refer to the group as ‘The Reasons.’”

Kay shrugs. “It’s taken me this long to see that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life like this. I’ve always admired you, Ashley.”

Now I know she’s lost it.

“You’ve admired me? Kay, you’ve spent the entire duration of our relationship telling me why my life was utter chaos and how to fix it. How is that admiration?”

“Not your organization ability obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“I mean that you knew you wanted to get married. You believed in Prince Charming, and he came for you. What if my lack of faith in my prince is what is holding me back?”

“You’re simplifying things, Kay. Matt Callaway is a—well, he’s got a history, for one thing. Did it ever occur to you just because he’s here he may not be Prince Charming?”

“So I should judge him for his past? Did you show Kevin your credit card statement before you got married?”

Touché.

“Matt and I may have a different faith, but we have the same values. We believe in treating others the way we’d like to be treated ourselves. When I make him a beautiful dinner, he washes the dishes and fixes something around here for me.”

“You let Matt do the dishes?” An uncomfortable twinge settles in my stomach.

“Ashley, focus. Seth and Arin, they don’t believe in the same things. Sure, they believe in the same God, but what that means to them individually is completely different. She believes in traveling all over the world to tell people about Jesus, but at the same time, thinks it’s okay to marry a man she doesn’t love if she ‘acts’ like she loves him. Something she can’t do most of the time, so she’s living a lie. How godly is that?”

I shrug. “I don’t think it’s a comparison. Just because Seth and Arin are working things out—”

“Meanwhile Seth thinks she’s going to turn into Albert Einstein suddenly, plus want nothing more than to darn his socks and homeschool their children. Can you imagine? They’d get to simple division and be stalled.”

“Kay!”

“I’m sorry. I know Arin is smart, but she’s missing something in the practical arena and she married Seth. Why does she have to be so mean to him?”

“In her defense, there were days I was mean to him too. For a reason!”
Let’s face it, look up exasperating in the dictionary and there’s Seth’s picture.

“No one knows how to have a dinner party because they don’t need to. I’m enabling. Pure and simple.” She puts her gloved fingers to her eyebrow as if the entire thing has given her a headache. “No one brings so much as a hostess gift. You know, I don’t care about a hostess gift, but on what planet is that acceptable, Ashley?”

I stare at her, my mouth dropped open. Since when does Kay care about a hostess gift? All this discontentment is coming from somewhere, and if I don’t figure it out, she’s bound to think Matt Callaway is the answer to all of her problems. I can pretty much guarantee that he’s not an answer. Unless the question is,
Who does Kay not need in her life?

“I agree, Kay. They should know better,” I say absently as my thoughts return to Arin. In actuality, Arin has an Ivy League education. That doesn’t mean she’s fit for homeschooling, but it’s still worth mentioning. She’s not nearly as dumb as I’d like her to be, but watching her with Toby, it shows me that she’d be perfectly happy to put her kids in an American school on a foreign mission field.

Kay picks up the soapy sponge. “I don’t know. My patience just ran out, I guess.”

“I can see that. It’s unnerving, but you can’t blame God for the way His people act, and you certainly can’t marry Matt because there are no great candidates in the Reasons. Why don’t you try another church?”

“I love Matt.” She tosses the sponge into the sink and glares at me.

Why?

“This may be my last shot to be a mother.”

There it is. Her true fear. The driving force that makes Matt Callaway appear as acceptable husband material.

Kay squints. “Walgreens is open late. Go get yourself some hair dye. You’re not going home.”

“I brought you something,” I say sheepishly. “A hostess gift for you—even though I didn’t actually think I’d be staying here. I knew you’d have at least one dinner party. It’s who you are, and I appreciate it.”

She shakes her head. “Not anymore. It’s not who I am anymore. When I have Matt’s clients here for dinner, it’s different. I don’t feel like I’m babysitting.”

“You’re entertaining Matt’s clients?” That sick feeling permeates the rest of my body and I wish I could see some glimmer of likeability in him – just for Kay’s sake.

“Yes…and don’t make that face. Did it ever occur to you that I deserve to be loved, too?”

“It always occurred to me. I just want to be sure Matt’s the one. Before you make up your mind, can I show you something?”

“He’s the one. I have made up my mind,” she answers firmly.

“What if I had evidence that proved he wasn’t the one?”

“You don’t,” she says flatly.

My chin drops. “Let me go get your hostess gift.”

I stride into the bedroom, determined that I’m going to pick up the wayward orange undies and ask if they’re hers. But when I get there, I pause at the sound of Matt’s voice and can’t bring myself to grab them. My gift, a bottle of black truffle oil, isn’t enough to make her stop thinking of Matt Callaway as husband material – and worse, neither might a pair of orange undies. I quietly shut the guestroom door and start to pray.

‡

W
hen I wake
up, the first thing I notice on Kay’s pristine white pillow is that my hair is still neon. Truthfully, in Silicon Valley, no one will notice. They’re so imbedded in their smart phones, I could dance naked on the streets and no one would raise an eyebrow. When I shower, the tinge of orange puddles in the water around my feet, and I’m reminded of my lacy discovery.

I try to come up with alternative ideas to Matt’s being a cheater, but I’m flummoxed. That old saying haunts me,
once a cheater, always a cheater
.

I never expected Kay to make a decision based on emotions – especially emotions I didn’t even know she had!

When I enter the kitchen, Matt Callaway’s hulking figure is hunched over the breakfast table opposite Kay. It’s weird. In front of him sits the remnants of a Cracker Barrel style breakfast: Eggs over easy; toast (of course he doesn’t eat the crust, being the child that he is), and from the smell of things, bacon, but I see no sign of that pork goodness.

Kay jumps up from the table at the sight of me. “Good morning, Ashley. Did you have a good sleep?”

I shrug. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Do you want some breakfast?”

I glare at Matt, trying to catch a glimmer of the magic Kay sees in him…trying to feel some semblance of their connection, but there’s nothing. I know Kay isn’t me, so I try to channel her anal-retentive self and see the practical qualities in Matt.
Again. I got nothing.
If there is a special connection with them, it’s akin to a dog whistle, on a completely different frequency from what I can hear. I don’t ask the obvious question: Was Matt here all night? But I will when he’s gone. If he ever has the decency to get lost.

“No thanks, I miss my coffee shop. I thought I’d walk down there this morning.”
And hopefully, Matt will be gone by the time I get back.

“I figured you might. I left a gift card for you on the counter.”

“Seriously? You think of everything, Kay.” Silently, I’m praying she’s forgotten all about the failed dinner party and my ratchet opinion of Matt. But organized people have organized minds, so I’m not hopeful.

“Someone gave the card to me, and I never go there. I can’t imagine the sheer number of bacteria in every cup.”

“It strengthens the immune system,” I say. “I was never sick when I lived here. Thanks for this.” I hold up the card, hoping to avoid any conversation related to marriage at such an ungodly hour. You see my point though. She knew exactly where a useless gift card was the moment she needed it. What sorcery is this?

“When you come home,” Kay says. “The key is in its normal hiding spot.”

“Thanks.” I slip my sweater on over my colorful Maxi dress. “I’ll see you later.”
Not you, Matt.
The sight of him at the breakfast table is enough to bring back up any good meal. I hightail it out of the house to the nearby coffee shop—where once spending $5 a day on a fancy coffee seemed like a reasonable expense. Employment. It was a beautiful thing.

Today, escaping the reality of Kay and Matt seems highly reasonable even without the gift card.

The coffee shop is far dirtier than I remember it—which makes sense, since it was dirty when I left, and no one’s cleaned it since. Nowadays, it’s mostly Facebook employees, judging by their lanyard tags. I miss being part of the lanyard crowd and officially belonging to something. I order, grab my iced soy latte and sit down at a table in the corner. I start to read the newspaper on my phone when I’m interrupted.