What a Girl Needs, page 2
Kevin’s a terrible gift buyer, I confess. He gets so excited to watch me open things, and I have to really work to act excited over a desk lamp—“Oh my goodness, just what I needed!” I’ll squeal. Or there was the time he bought me a silver toilet bowl brush. He was so proud of himself that he’d bought me something that would match the bathroom; I didn’t have the heart to point out the obvious—that anything involving scrubbing a toilet is not a great gift.
So it is with trepidation that I slice open the card with my freshly manicured nail. (Nails I gave up Saturday lattes for!) “I can’t imagine what it could be!” Tears flood my eyes when I see it. “An airline ticket?” I can barely speak. “We’re going on a trip? I get actual time with my h-husband?” I stammer. “Oh, Kevin!” I scramble out of my seat to his side where I hold his strong jaw in my hands and kiss him. (This was supposed to be like one of those Bachelor moments, on the hometown dates, but it comes off as more of a thwarted mugging.) “Kevin, really? We’re going to have time together?” My throat is tight as I process how much he cares and I have that prickly, stinging feeling in my nose. “When are we going? Kevin, when?”
He clears his throat and tugs at his tie. I notice as he does so that I missed a crease in his shirt. (Strike ironing off the list of things I do well—actually, let’s just go with anything domestic, full stop.) My arms are clasped around his neck in an awkward position, and instinctively, I know the news isn’t good. The sorrow in his eyes should be a warning sign. But I am so zealous at the idea of a hotel room with my husband in it; I believe he’s just shy about my reaction. I mean, a waiter could enter at any moment, and Kevin isn’t big on public displays of affection.
I tend to be, what Kevin calls, enthusiastic. Read: Obnoxious. I rise from the floor and sit back down in my chair as if the last few seconds had never taken place. He faces me. I drink in his eyes. Every time I stare into his eyes, I fall for him all over again because they are dripping with love for me. There is no question how he feels about me. Toilet brush notwithstanding. He wants to give me the world. He just has other priorities. However, the road to you-know-where is paved with good intentions.
“Ashley,” he says while looking down at his blood-red linen napkin. “I’m not going with you on this trip. I’ve got those two huge cases right now.” He clears his throat. “And I don’t think I’m what you need.”
Not what I need? My heart sinks. I try to keep up the smile, but I’m disheartened in a way I haven’t felt since I was single and hit with the sting of dating rejection.
He goes on, “I can’t leave town right now, but I can’t have you sitting alone in the house waiting for me to come home. I need for you to be happy.”
I know I shouldn’t doubt his words, but he needs for me to be happy, so he’s propelling me out of town like a rock from a slingshot? “I’ve never made you feel like you had to entertain me, have I? I don’t expect for you to be my world.”
“No, no. It’s not that.”
“How did you afford this?”
“My Dad gave me his frequent flyer miles.”
His dad. So not only am I being sent away, but on someone else’s dime?
I hold up the card he’s given me and try to decipher what he’s telling me. “So this gift is a trip by myself? For our anniversary?” I don’t care what marriage book you’re reading, that can’t be good.
“I think, Ashley,” Kevin says in his sweetest southern drawl, “you should go home to the Bay Area for a visit. Figure out what will make you happy again, and then do what you must to make it happen when you return. I don’t want you to resent me or my work.”
“I don’t resent you.” I resented the toilet brush. I may resent this weird “gift”—but I don’t resent him.
“I’d like to keep it that way.” Kevin shakes his head. “I was selfish to get married when I knew what I was facing in this residency and then the fellowship.”
The lump in my throat swells and my eyes sting. “So what you’re saying is that you wish you weren’t married? That’s a stellar anniversary gift.”
“Not for a second. That’s what makes me feel so badly. I’d do it again in a hot minute, but there was a price to pay, Ashley, and you’re paying it and I’m feeling it. No real man lets his wife take the fall. It’s not lost on me that you’re taking the fall.”
“So you’re sending me away? That’s your answer?”
“I’m not putting this well, I’m—”
The waiter enters the wine cellar, takes one look at me and my quivering lower lip, and makes a mad dash exit.
“Brea knows you’re coming,” Kevin adds, as if I’ve won some kind of anniversary lottery.
Brea’s my best friend. She has been for an eternity and she knows me like the back of her hand. Maybe better, because she has two boys under five, so I don’t think she actually ever gets to look at her own hand. She’s been so busy, I barely hear from her, so maybe Kevin is right. Maybe building back old friendships is the key to figuring out my future.
“When do I leave?” I ask, as if I’m headed for the gallows. It’s one thing to win a vacation, it’s another when you get a lone ticket across the country for your two-year anniversary.
“Wednesday. You’ll have tomorrow to pack and then you’ll be on your way. I have that big study going on and I’m not going to be home much anyway.” He says this like it was some kind of anomaly. He’s never home, but when he is, it’s worth all the trouble. Doesn’t he understand that? It’s like getting a guilt offering rather than an anniversary gift.
I suddenly remember what I wanted to tell him about my future, and I don’t have to, because it’s as if he’s read my mind. It feels like breaking up with someone when you don’t want him or her to do it first so that you can maintain a shred of dignity.
“Here, I thought we were going to discuss our future family.”
Kevin gives a mild shrug. “Is that what you want to discuss?”
I suddenly feel like I’m talking to a stranger. My throat goes dry. “Seems a moot point now.”
When I first got married, I thought I wanted a family right away. Thirty-three is no Spring Chicken for having babies, no matter what Hollywood tries to tell us, but my ticking clock started to slow when I visited Kevin at work. Seeing all those preemies, so pink, delicate and the size of gerbils, bringing new life into this world didn’t seem as simple. A fear developed. It’s hard to take the miracle of life for granted, or believe that a healthy baby ever arrives, after you witness so many of them struggling to hang onto life. It sucks a bit of the joy out of the idea, if I’m honest. Fear is the antithesis of faith, I get that, but with a visual reminder fear is also very real.
Naturally, Kevin’s mother thinks I’m barren and manages to mention it every time she calls. She seems to think comparing my eggs to “dehydrated fruit” is appropriate conversation. I’ll tell you one thing, when Elaine Novak comes to visit, there isn’t a box of Raisin Bran within fifty feet of the house.
I finally find my voice. “Your mother will think we’re having trouble if I go to California alone. It’s bad enough she thinks I’m barren.”
Kevin’s eyes go wide. “She doesn’t think you’re barren!” he says, as if I’m a total drama queen and his mother hasn’t implied that very thing from day one.
It also doesn’t help that my sister-in-law Emily is pregnant. Not married or in a serious relationship, but pregnant. Mrs.-Novak-the-First thinks this is appalling behavior, but rather than say so, she focuses on the fact that I’m not pregnant rather than find any error with her own offspring. Kevin, bless his heart, tries to maintain the peace between the women he loves.
“Don’t take it personally, Ash,” he tells me. “My mom’s just upset about my sister and doesn’t know how to deal with it. This vacation is for you, and I really put thought into this gift—I know you were disappointed with the silver toilet brush.”
Well, that’s good. Progress. It seems obvious though, doesn’t it? Toilet brush equals unacceptable gift.
“If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to, but you need to find your focus again. I think California and your family and friends can help with that.” He meets my gaze with those devastating eyes of his. “I miss your sparkle.”
I’m still on his mother’s comment. “So it’s acceptable that your mother compares my girl parts to dried-up fruit because your sister’s pregnant?”
“Of course it’s not,” Kevin says, dropping his head in his hands. “But if I tell her it bothers you, she’ll only find a way to say it differently. You know my mother. That’s why we live three states away.” Kevin reaches over the table and kisses me on the forehead. I temporarily forget about his mother and the future. “We’ll have a baby when we’re ready to have a baby. For now, go enjoy yourself back home.”
Home? Before this romantic anniversary dinner—a mere hour ago—I thought “home” was wherever Kevin would be. My thoughts are swirling too fast. Deep breaths. I tilt my chin and look straight into Kevin’s eyes.
“Will you eat while I’m gone?” My voice is robotic because I’m calculating how much this trip cost us, and how the forthcoming bill will probably serve to remind me how useless I feel without a job. “If your mother comes, she’s going to yell at me for not feeding you.”
“I’ll eat.”
And there it is. Before we even order drinks in our fancy Italian wine cellar, I’ve been sent off alone on a mystery trip just like the Railway children. Happy anniversary to me.
He takes my hand and folds it into his own. “The next move will be permanent, Ashley. Then, you can go back to your work. I’m so sorry I brought you along on this roller coaster ride. I’ve been very selfish.”
“I’m not sorry.” I reach over to touch his jaw, and as he comes closer I inhale deeply. I’m too reliant on him. He feels it, and the pressure will break us. I need work. I need a purpose that isn’t an unhealthy attachment to my husband, who doesn’t really need me. I’m just a nicer diversion. I inhale again. Deeper this time.
He pulls away. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t want to forget what you smell like when I leave. It’s the most powerful memory-inducer, you know.”
“Ashley, you sound like a dog sniffing my ear. Would you cut that out?” He’s shooing me as the waiter comes to take our orders.
“This is a first. A one-way trip alone for my anniversary. You know, a lot of Dateline shows begin like this.”
“It’s not one-way.” He raises his brow. “Don’t give me any ideas.”
I smirk.
“Ash, you’ll be back in two weeks, and by then I should know if we’re staying in Philadelphia. We’ll have a decision to make. This vacation is nothing to get dramatic about.”
“Uh, have we met? I get dramatic about everything. And you’ll forgive me if I mention that giving a single ticket vacation to your wife is not exactly the pinnacle of romance.” I pause. “But it is better than a silver toilet brush.”
“See? I’m improving with time – like a fine wine.”
“Two weeks, you say?” I stare at the ticket again, calculating what I’ll do for two weeks. I still won’t have a job in California, and my dad will be over my visit in about two hours. “Any idea where we might live permanently yet? You have to have some idea. Which programs have you looked at seriously?”
“We’ll have to discuss it, but if I can’t get back to Stanford or UCSF, where I know you’d prefer, and if Philly doesn’t want me, Atlanta might be the best place for us.”
My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Atlanta!” I guzzle the water that’s set before me. “It may have escaped your attention, but your mother lives in Atlanta. And didn’t you just get through telling me why we lived three states away from her?”
“Atlanta is a nice place to raise a family.”
Correction. It would be a nice place to raise a family if the mother-in-law from the dark side didn’t reside there. With her little minion, Emily. And soon, a minionette in the form of a grandchild.
“I know it’s a nice place to raise a family,” I tell Kevin. “Luckily, your sister seems to be taking care of that and your mother will have a grandchild close by.” I clamp my teeth over my bottom lip. This is not how I want my husband to remember me while I’m gone. I want there to be longing—gnashing of teeth while he waits for me to return and all that. But Atlanta?
“It’s nothing tangible yet. Go enjoy your vacation.”
“It’s just—I never knew it was a consideration.” First he says, we have a decision to make, then I hear the word, Atlanta. My trust issues are coming out to play.
“It might not be from the look on your face.” Kevin cups my jaw with his hands and kisses me deeply over the table, which sends our waiter with our iced tea right back where he came from. “Stop worrying, Ashley. Go engage your mind in Silicon Valley. You’ll come back to me with all the latest and I’ll see that spark in your eye again.”
Not if he mentions Atlanta again, he won’t. He’ll see sparks all right, but they won’t be in my eyes.
As I gaze at the ticket, I can’t help but wonder what his mother will say to this. Kevin sending me away for our anniversary—allowing my eggs to shrivel further while Princess Emily can have a baby all on her own.
“Besides, Kay needs you there,” Kevin says about my old roommate. “She says she has a big decision to make and she needs you there for it.”
“Well, if Kay needs me…” I let my voice trail off. It would be good to feel useful again.
Maybe Kevin wants to send me back to “The Reasons”—which is what I called my singles’ group—as in “we all had our reasons we weren’t married.” This way I might find the “reason” for my discontent in Philly. Though the weather, my lack of interesting work, and a schlumpy house might have something to do with it. I’ve clearly got as many Reasons as I started with before marriage—now I just have another half named Kevin.
Chapter 2
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Wednesday arrives like an unwelcome Visa bill—too quickly and it includes a whole bunch of details that I’d forgotten. As Kevin drives me to the airport, I start to panic about his future job offers for his next fellowship. A specialty like his requires years and years of study. I worry that my future may be decided for me before I return and any work I do to plan the next stage of my career may be pointless.
Selfish. But still true.
“What do you think about Jersey?” I ask Kevin, as we set out on the turnpike.
He turns toward me, shakes his head and focuses again on the road. “New Jersey?”
“Yeah. We just take the Ben Franklin Bridge and we’re home, so it wouldn’t be a hard move. There must be children’s hospitals in Jersey. I mean, look at all those kids on the Real Housewives. Kids equal children’s hospitals, right?”
“It doesn’t work quite like that. South Jersey is a far cry from North Jersey – I don’t think you want to live with the cows, Ashley.”
“Do they have a Wawa?” I sigh dreamily. “I do love a Wawa,” I say about my cheaper version of Starbucks, which I’ve grown to love after living on one salary.
He cocks his eyebrow. “Trust me, I’m going to do a lot of research before we consider moving for the fellowship, and that research won’t include anecdotes, or offspring from the Real Housewives.”
“I could totally handle living in a place where sparkly, blingy clothing and animal prints are perfectly acceptable. I think people bold enough to wear sequins are happier, but that’s just me.”
Kevin grimaces. “Yeah. That’s not going to happen. The last thing your wardrobe needs to do is grab more attention.”
I stare out the window and sigh deeply. I feel like a dog being taken to the vet when it actually thinks it’s going to the beach. Yes, I get that I’m actually going to the beach in California, but that’s hardly the point here.
“Kevin, you make it sound like I have tacky taste. I don’t have tacky taste, but mark my words, women who shun the sequin are less happy. There has to be a study somewhere.”
“Yeah. Probably in Jersey, sponsored by the Bedazzled Company.”
I laugh. “Kevin made a funny! And you know what a Bedazzler is. I’m totally impressed.”
“Some days, I cannot believe you got through law school.”
“Magna cum laude, baby!” Granted. Maybe I was better at school than actual life, but I’m grabbing at straws here.
“You need meaningful work, Ashley.” He taps the steering wheel nervously. “If you’re still obsessing about us moving to Atlanta, what more can I tell you? You have my word that we’re not moving to Atlanta. We’re not going anywhere until you decide what’s going to happen with you next. It’s your turn, Ashley.”
“Well, that came out of nowhere. Is that your way of telling me to get a job?”
“What?” Kevin slaps the steering wheel. “No! Are we having the same conversation?”
I can’t let up. A surprise vacation…a surprise anything isn’t like my husband. I’m right to be suspicious. “We’re going to Atlanta aren’t we? That’s what this is all about. You need further training, and Atlanta is in my future.” I’m mentally preparing myself for southern belles and laser-focused subtext. I can already hear, bless your heart…
“We could stay in Philly for it. You can pass the bar here if that’s what you want. I just need you to know what you want, without my influence.”
“Right. So you’re sending me away to solve the great mysteries of the universe.”
“This is a vacation for you, Ash, but our future is about us. I’m not making any decisions without you. I made that mistake once and I’ve anguished over it ever since.”
Every time he says something like that, I hear that he’s regretted marrying me. I’m sure he doesn’t mean it that way, but it doesn’t prevent my mind from going to all sorts of dark places. I mean, I should have a life by now. I’ve been in Philadelphia for nearly two years. When did I become a sloth?
