What a Girl Needs (8 page)

“I come here to find my single, chaste friend—who likes everything just so—with a half-naked man in her house wielding power tools. It’s disconcerting. Have you forgotten what he did to you?”

“Apparently, you haven’t.” Kay looks genuinely hurt. Once again, I’ve said too much, but I’m only trying to help. “Ashley, everyone makes mistakes. How many mistakes did Seth make and you welcomed him back with open arms time and time again? Until he finally broke your heart once and for all.”

Kay’s right and I know it. But this is not about me. “Stop changing the subject. Matt Callaway, that’s the subject.”

“I thought it was you being beige.”

“I’m not beige!” I stamp my foot childishly. “So, if you’re comparing him to Seth, how many times are you going to allow Matt to break your heart before it’s once and for all? I mean, seriously, do you want to take your romantic lessons from me? If anyone was the long-suffering, pathetic girlfriend, it was me with Seth.”

“I suppose that’s up to me, isn’t it?” She slips an apron on over her head. “Are you going to help me get dinner on the table or berate me for my social life? I should remind you that you used to berate me for my lack of social life.”

“Watching sci-fi movies with engineers is not a social life.”

“In Silicon Valley, it’s absolutely the only one that matters. Except for maybe, gaming.”

She throws an apron at me and grimaces. “Change the subject.” Her tone is foreboding.

I’m less concerned with my hair than I am that Kay noticed my fashion choices were lacking. Changing the subject suits me.

“Is it true you invited Seth and Arin for dinner?” I set the apron on the counter.

“Come on, Ashley, he and Arin have been married for a long time. You and Kevin have been married a long time. They have their second child on the way, and you used to be friends. We’re all Christians and I wanted the old group back together. You dated Seth. Kevin dated Arin, so what? You can’t let the past bother you.”

“No, because that would be weird, right?”
I mean, is it me?

“You don’t have to be so melodramatic about it. So you dated the guy. It’s over. Life moves on.”

“I get this. I’ve moved on, but hanging out with Seth and Arin just feels…I don’t know, forced. Awkward.”

“Well, it’s Seth. It felt awkward when you were dating him.” Kay shrugs. “It was like that at first with Matt after, you know, he went out with your prepubescent sister-in-law, but eventually, I realized I could obsess on Matt’s one mistake, or look to the good he brought into my life.”

“Matt brings good into you life?” I pop a grape into my mouth. “I’m intrigued.”

“If Matt hadn’t taken Emily out that time, would you still feel the way you do about him?”

“It wasn’t taking my sister-in-law out that bothered me, it was the way he lied about it and sort of dated the two of you at the same time. I just don’t trust him.”

“Luckily, you don’t have to trust him. At the time, no one was exclusive. That’s what people do when they’re dating. They test the waters.”

Uh, Matt tested the waters, all right. Like an ocean full.

“If it doesn’t bother me, Ashley, I fail to see why it bugs you. Your life would be so much easier if you would just move on.”

“I think you’re better than him, that’s why.”

“I thought you were better than Seth. Did you ever listen to me?” Kay pulls out a bag of carrots and dumps them into a silver colander in the sink. “In the words of a famous creepy director, ‘the heart wants what it wants.’”

“Are you really going to quote a creeper to make your point on love? Because…just eww.”

“He may be a pervert, but he’s right in the sense that the heart isn’t logical. Of course, I know better. It’s like people telling you God’s enough—that He can fill all your needs. And He can, I understand that, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t get lonely. That I don’t stare at couples in church longingly.”

“I know, but Kay being alone beats being in a—”

She cuts me off. “Do you know with all my years in the singles’ group, how many of you I’ve seen coupled together like they’re getting on Noah’s ark? All that time, I sat at the base of the gangplank and forty years came and went.”

“So that’s why Matt’s hovering? You’re lonely? Get another roommate! Remember how fun I was?”

“You never faced that, Ashley. Not really, not the fear that you’d be alone in the nursing home and that you’d never have a child. It’s hard to come home to an empty house every night unless you take the time and effort to plan a dinner party.”

“I think that’s why people get cats.”

“Ashley!”

“I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I only meant—”

“Just never mind. If I want to spend time with Matt, it’s really none of your business. Can we talk about something else?”

I’m lost in my thoughts as I ponder the depth of what she’s said. It’s true. God
should
be enough. Being married
should
be enough, but life can still be lonely.
Really lonely.
And sometimes, God feels intensely absent. And the worst of it is when some well-meaning Christian tells you that you’re a terrible Christian on top of it all; otherwise, you wouldn’t feel that way.

“I get it, Kay, I really do. Sometimes Kevin is so tired when he gets home, he doesn’t even say hello before he drops into bed. Marriage is lonely sometimes, too.”

“Perhaps it is, but you can’t compare your situation to mine. A man loved you enough to put a ring on your finger and marry you, Ashley. Kevin spoke vows in front of God and everyone and pledged his love to you.”

“I didn’t know you wanted that, Kay.”

“I may not express myself as vehemently as you do, but I still have feelings. Rejection still hurts.”

The expression that crosses her face is exactly the one I remember when Matt was in her life the last time. It’s exactly why my feelings against Matt run so deep.

“I just don’t want you to be rejected by Matt again. I don’t want you to run on that relationship treadmill like I did with Seth.”

She draws in a deep breath and nods.

“What are you making for dinner again?” I change the subject.

“A fresh shrimp salad. It’s got lime juice, cilantro, jalapenos, fresh basil and this light dressing.” She pulls out a lime to offer proof. “Perfect for summer. I got everything at the Farmer’s Market after work, so it’s all totally fresh. Even the shrimp.”

“You’re no different than me, Kay. Not really,” I tease. “You just put all your effort into color-coordinating your food and your table instead of your clothes.”

Kay stops chopping veggies and looks at me with those serious eyes of hers. She always had the air of a judge, the kind of woman who could shut you down with a look while she took her time to gather her thoughts. Somehow, others drew silent and waited for her to make a statement of stealth importance.

“I need you to get out of my way while I cook,” Kay says. She never did like anyone in her kitchen, but especially me. Things tend to spill when I’m in the kitchen.

“I need to go rinse my hair anyway and see if I can get some of this color out.” I move to the doorway, out of her lair.

I slog to the bathroom with rapt anticipation that my hair color is not as bad as Kay makes it out to be. If Kay noticed how boring I’ve become, how far behind can Kevin be? Maybe my husband has already noticed. Didn’t he say I’d lost my sparkle? The pressure mounts for me to find my passion again. Somehow, I know dinner with Seth isn’t going to help that. Did Kevin realize he was sending me to the wolves?

‡

I
am turning
beige. This can only mean one thing. I have peaked, and it’s all downhill from here. I kick off my flats, and opt for summery, strappy wedges. They’re Kate Spade and I got them on clearance, so they didn’t break the bank. They have tiny daisies on the heel and they scream,
Notice Me. I am not beige. I am colorful and full of life.

Kicking off my shoe, it sails under the bed, so I drop to my hands and knees and clamber under the guest bed—which incidentally is covered in clutter. Clutter that wouldn’t have been allowed when I lived here. Under-the-bed clutter was under the same jurisdiction and rules as the rest of the house.
Hiding it does no good, Ashley. It’s there. God knows it’s still there, even if I don’t. Clear out the clutter and you’ll clear your mind
, I hear Kay preaching at me.

My teeth clench, as I know Matt must be the source of this mess. Kay is willing to put up with Matt’s messes – when I know she wasn’t willing to put up with mine.
This changes things.

I reach into the melee for my shoe, and I fish it out, along with something orange and lacy. I pick up the undies that are so out of place with all the tools and files under the bed. It’s a…sheer, gauzy (read: cheap) scrap of underwear. I feel sick to my stomach knowing this sliver of lace can’t be Kay’s because:

A. She’s Kay.

B. She’s never met a pair of white granny panties she didn’t love.

C. I watch enough “20/20” to have learned that no good ever comes from unclaimed lingerie.

I peel the tacky panties off of my shoe and shove them back under the bed, but my mind is reeling. This is Matt’s doing, but I’ll never be able to prove it. Unless Kay has met some disreputable new character at church who needed a place to stay, I’m willing to bet Matt’s responsible and that this won’t make a bit of difference to Kay.

Granted, if I could blame the entire fall of mankind on Matt at the moment, I’d do that, too. So I’m not exactly thinking clearly, but why? Why doesn’t Kay know she deserves so much better than Matt Callaway?

“Ashley, everyone’s arriving!” Kay calls out from the kitchen.

I panic and shove everything on the floor under the bed. It’s nothing, I tell myself. My imagination is working overtime. I’m feeling lonely and rejected and looking for someone to blame.

I breathe in deeply and tell myself to relax. Outside on the quiet neighborhood street, a car door slams and I peek out the window to get my first look at Seth in two years.
Still bald
. Yes, I’m immature, but this brings me a slight elation.
Kevin has hair!
Seth comes around the car, opens the passenger door, and Arin’s spindly, stick legs kick to the side as she plants her earthy sandals onto the curb. Seth doesn’t help her out, instead, he slides open the back door, reaches in and pulls out a toddler like a sack of potatoes. He sets the kid down on the sidewalk, and the little boy looks up at his mom and smiles.

He’s darling.
The toddler, not Seth. He has reddish-brown hair, which is gelled into a spiked style, and he’s wearing brown plaid shorts and an orange T-shirt with a matching brown plaid animal of some sort on the tummy. A twinge of jealously stabs at my gut as I see how easily everything came together for Seth with his ready-made family, complete with mini-van, while I’m still in flux.

I don’t even have a job.

“The guy lives a charmed life.”

It makes sense that Seth would have kids first. After all, Arin was pregnant at my wedding—do the math. It’s the reason Seth married her—because missionaries who end up pregnant outside of wedlock aren’t exactly employable. They rescued one another. Seth wouldn’t have been motivated to get married unless someone needed him. Arin
needed
him. It didn’t hurt that she was blonde, beautiful and a size two. If Quasimodo needed his help, Seth probably wouldn’t have been so anxious to rescue, but it’s a love story in its own right.

Arin shouts something at Seth. I can tell by the slumping expression on her face it wasn’t sweet nothings. Seth’s face darkens into a soulless gaze, and he lobs back some caustic remark. At least, that’s what I see. My heart pounds as I note the bliss I imagined for them may not be the case, and now I feel badly.

“Ashley!” Kay shouts again.

“I’m coming!”

I twist around and lean up against the wall. My eyes clasp shut and I see the image of their beautiful child against my eyelids. Just another relentless reminder that at thirty-four, I’m no closer to being pregnant than I was two years ago when I first got married. I thought I was fine with that, but as I spy Seth’s son, maybe I only told myself that because I didn’t have a choice.

I hate how this beautiful, innocent child makes me feel; covetous and never satisfied, unlike the Christian wife I promised to be when I stood before God at the altar. It was only two years ago that I thought marrying the man of my dreams was all I needed in life to be happy. I open my eyes and capture the trail of the small family stepping onto the path, and my eyes burn with bitter jealousy. Their life has started, and Kevin is so heavily involved in saving other people’s families that he has no time for ours. His life is his. And mine is…beige.

Arin carries an oversized bag and she hops a spritely step. She’s just as I imagined. Still skinnier than me, with a small bulge poking out of her yoga pants.
Yoga pants when she’s pregnant. Shoot me now
. Seth takes the diaper bag from her and heaves it over his bony shoulders. I hide behind the curtain and remember how many nights I spent in this room wondering if I would ever be somebody’s bride. Now I have a husband, and it appears maybe contentment is like chasing a rainbow. I let go of the curtain and hightail it to the kitchen, barefoot before the young family rings the bell.