Purvi’s normally beautiful uptalking Indian accent drives me crazy in lecture form. “The important thing is that we must uphold our patents in these foreign countries,” she crosses her hands at her desk. “Without such action, American and Taiwanese companies will flood the market with this—this inferior garbage. They will steal our market share. Not to mention, selling our product for a tenth of fair market value. It’s a show of force that must be carried out.” She says it like Patton. “Are you up for the job?”
“Yes, ma’am!” I salute her. Of course I understand all she’s saying, but I want to know what’s in it for me. Not that she would ever care about that. At this point, I’ll just have to try to focus on the weight I will lose. “When do I leave, Purvi?”
“You’re booked on the Sunday flight out. EVA Air, not United. We’re serving the Evil Empire with papers this time, too. I’ll be going to Seattle this week.”
My chest drops.
She gets to go to Seattle? That’s where the career
building case is! All while I get sent to a third-world country to fulfill
the humor factor.
Defending a patent in Taiwan is a bit of a joke since they rarely adhere to any promises made in the meetings. Meanwhile, Purvi becomes the next VP, and I languish in the trenches. Not only does Purvi get the better case, she gets gourmet coffee too!
Once at my desk, I see it’s covered with the work Purvi has been attending to all morning. When her neighbor takes her son to work, I certainly pay the price. There’s a sense of dread as I notice an envelope my landlord dropped off last week. I’m sure it’s only the dates they’ll be spraying for ants, but I never opened it, and now I’m wondering if I’ve already been asphyxiated and perhaps that’s the cause of my latest dating skirmishes.
Ant poison.
Ripping open the envelope, my eyes scan over everything and rest on the words: “One month to vacate the premises.” On careful inspection, I see that due to the failing economy, my landlord has decided to get out of the rental business. He will be turning the apartments into condominiums and selling them off one-by-one as affordable housing. On an up note, I can have first crack at purchasing said condo after the remodel, for a mere $40,000 down payment.
Gag. Cough. Sputter.
Greater panic engulfs me as I realize the notice is a week old. Which actually leaves me three weeks to find a new place to live. Two weeks if you subtract my forced labor in Taipei. Grabbing the envelope, I rush back into Purvi’s office.
“Purvi, my apartment is gone. I’ve got three weeks to find a new place.”
She looks around me toward my office and into the pile of manila that waits for me on my desk. “That’s going to be tough, especially with your trip coming up.”
“I had planned to buy a place in May, but not this place.” Heaven only knows why I offer up this little tidbit of information. Clearly, Purvi doesn’t care about my plight, and my real estate aspirations are hardly her concern. She’s suing the Evil Empire. And I have a housing issue in the Bay Area. How novel.
Purvi slams a pen down on her desk for effect. “Ashley, you were already off last Monday for your friend’s baby problem. You haven’t been putting in nearly the hours. I never even saw you this weekend. You’ve got a mountain of work on your desk.” Her voice softens. “Maybe until this lawsuit passes, you should just move in with your parents. That would be the easiest thing.”
A stab to the heart. I clutch my chest in disbelief. Did she just say move in with my parents? She clearly does not understand that my loser brother lives there, or that he’s probably bringing home his foreign bride. I slap my forehead. “The wedding.”
“What now?” Purvi is obviously annoyed with me. She has the uncanny ability to drop all emotion from her work day. Me, I’m a tightly-wound wad of nerves, and for the moment I’ve forgotten how to hide them. I am an unraveling yo-yo with no hope of springing back up.
“My brother’s getting married next month. I forgot. I’ve got to help my mother plan the shower.”
Purvi shrugs. “Like I said, move in with your parents for a while. It sounds like you have a lot on your plate.” She goes back to reading her briefings. “You should be happy you still see your parents. I haven’t seen mine since I married my husband’s family. They are my family now. Take advantage while you still can.”
Ah, I only wish marriage and a move would fix my family issues
so easily.
The phone in my office is ringing, and I take the opportunity to run out of Purvi’s office. Picking up the phone, I am sublimely professional, hoping to show Purvi I’m getting it together.
“Ashley Stockingdale.”
“Ashley, it’s Seth.”
Long exhale and I slam the door to my office with my foot. “Seth, it’s really not a good time. I’m a bit overwhelmed with work and projects right now.”
Far too busy to discuss your harrowing love
life. Welcome to the world of Reason people. Doesn’t feel too good when
the season passes, now does it?
He continues though. “I thought about what you said yesterday in the parking lot. I want to talk to you about it more, so just call me when you get more time. We’ve got too much history to just let this slip away.”
“Let what slip away?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I clench my eyes shut. How is it he can date someone else and I’m left feeling like I’m crushing him? Where does the guilt come from?
“Just call me when you get a chance, Ashley. We need to talk.” He hangs up the phone and I’m left, clutching the receiver.
Does he
get it?
Or am I in for another round of cluelessness, engineering style?
I’m starting to lose it. Nothing in my life is certain anymore, and the questions feel overwhelming like when
The Bachelor
and
American Idol
are both on—which do I watch and which do I Tivo? I must prioritize my life; I must put everything into perspective. Kay Harding seems to have it all together. Perhaps, if I just follow her lead for the day . . . that’s the secret: organize. Taking out my Palm Pilot, I enter in my to-do list.
1. Find a new place to live.
2. Plan wedding shower for brother’s mail-order bride.
3. Eat like a winter squirrel to store fat for upcoming freshfest in Taipei.
4. Finish patent briefs and lawsuits for contract attorneys.
5. Call Seth back.
6. Change my pathetic life into something exciting and glamorous.
7. Never wear violet bra again, as it’s ramming itself into my ribcage.
8. Sign up for Internet dating.
9. Find smashing guy friend to pose as boyfriend at brother’s wedding.
10. Find smashing guy friend.
I start to read through all the briefs that Purvi has left on my desk. I begin to concentrate just about the time the phone rings again.
“Ashley Stockingdale.”
“Hi, Ash, it’s Arin.” If the two of them are calling me to announce their immediate engagement, I am going to leave for Taiwan and never come back.
“What can I do for you? I’m pretty busy.” I am a powerful lawyer. I will not be undermined by a tiny, unemployed literature major.
Arin goes on in that cutesy tone that makes me want to ask if her mommy is home. “I’m leaving on my mission trip with the dentists early, and I was hoping you’d be nice to Kevin on Sunday. He’s planning to come to church and he doesn’t get the chance to do it all that often. He’s very shy and uncomfortable in the church environment.”
“Be nice to Kevin, or keep him away from Seth?”
Shame on me.
She giggles, like this is funny. “Ashley, you know I don’t mean that. Kevin can do whatever he likes. He’s leaving for some medical technology meeting in Taiwan anyway. But he’ll be there on Sunday before his flight.”
“Kevin is going to Taiwan?” My hands are shaking, but I don’t make mention of my trip. There is one flight to Taiwan on Sunday, which can only mean we’ll both be on it. Just let me have my wistful fantasies for the week. I’m swept away by a rogue handsome young doctor who has abandoned Arin because of her uselessness wrapped in a darling package.
Arin’s still rambling. “There’s a new machine they want to show the young doctors for use in surgery. He’s going over to watch it in production and write a report on it. You know, to see if it’s something Stanford should consider in the future.” Arin sounds highly annoyed, as if saving children from imminent death is in the way of her social plans. Still, there’s a lot to admire about her narcissistic behavior, like the fact that she gets away with it.
“No offense, Arin, but Kevin will be just fine without me. I have a business trip myself, so I don’t know if I’ll make it on Sunday.” The last thing I need to do is be fawning over another man who forgets my name when Arin dashes off her plane, skinnier than ever from eating Costa Rican grubs.
“I understand,” Arin says. “Ashley, I’m sorry if I did anything to upset you. Friends, right?”
I swallow a laugh at her use of such a teeny-bopper phrase. “Right.”
Then, I hear the light click of the phone.
I know why she’s asking me to watch over Kevin. I’m thirty-one. I’m ancient to her, kind of like her mother. I’m beyond the age Arin feels is any kind of threat to her. I can almost hear her call me Ma’am.
Oddly, I don’t blame Arin. She’s assessed the situation and put her resources where they should go. But I do wish she wouldn’t tease. If she wants Seth, take Seth. He’d be a solid, if not boring, husband. Those blue eyes on a child would be worth the sacrifice.
Maybe.
If she wants Kevin, she should marry the guy. He’s a gorgeous doctor at Stanford, for crying out loud. But leaving both men dangling for a trip to the rain forest? Now that’s just plain irresponsible. Oh, to be twenty-four again. Doesn’t Arin know another size-two Anaconda could easily coil itself around her relationships, choking the life from them both? Before she knows it, she’s thirty-one and sitting amid the Reasons and her season is long gone.
Like clockwork, the mail guy is here. No, I haven’t done the wild thang this weekend. But he’s learning—he doesn’t ask. Surely, Seth and Kevin can master a thing or two, right? With all the degrees between them.
“Ashley, do you have any mail?” Jim asks like a robot.
“No, Jim. I don’t have any mail. How was your weekend?”
He nods. “It was good. Did a little fishing, drank with my buddies.” He nods his head. “Yeah, it was good. How about you?”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that one. I’m looking for my life’s purpose.”
He shakes his head. “You lawyers think too much. My purpose is easy, fishing and beer. What else is there? You get a little money, you buy beer. You get a bonus, you buy for your friends, too.”
What else is there, indeed?
Maybe that’s my purpose, not having a purpose. Looking at the stacks of patents before me, my purpose on earth seems a bit more practical.
W
hile most people sit jammed in Silicon Valley traffic, I am a world traveler. I look up at the gray sky and breathe deeply. I have a career that people only dream of having. While my brother drives the same bus route daily, I visit exotic foreign countries.
This is my mantra as I enter the plane for sixteen straight hours of world-class fun. No fresh air, no blondes, and no news-papers without foreign symbols—it’s like being abducted by aliens, experimenting to see what their food does to my system, and then plopping me back into my boring life in Palo Alto with the severest form of jet lag possible. Definitely out of the ordinary.
The highlight of my trip? I will get my choice of an American meal or a Chinese meal. Both of them still airline food: my choice of lunchmeat slapped on a hard roll or generic Top Ramen. I’m not complaining, however, because it’s considered basic training for the week. Boot camp to prepare me for whatever delicacy my Taiwanese counterpart is certain that I will love. Personal
Fear
Factor,
if you will, all for the sake of tech’s future.
“Ashley, is that you?” Kevin’s deep voice breaks my reverie.
“Kevin?”
“It’s going to be a long flight. I heard you might be here. I’ve
reserved my seat beside yours.”
“What will Arin think?” I ask innocently. Blinking my eyes as
though I have no control over my own destiny. This must be destiny.
“Let her think as she likes,” he growls.
We stop the flow of traffic onto the plane as we kiss passionately
amidst a sea of onlookers.
Immediate guilt.
Women like me are not the Boyfriend Stealer type. For various reasons: common decency and lack of Arin’s halo effect. I slump into my airline seat ready to face my reality.
My dreams are shattered by a rough entry into the seat beside me. Hopes truly dashed. I’m sitting next to a Taiwanese businessman who has an easy smile, a friendly manner, and a wedding ring. One thing about Taiwanese engineers, they have personalities. Where do the Americans go wrong? And why do I live in the midst of their dysfunction?
As I wait for the rest of the passengers to board, my mind settles into an easy pace. I remember all I’ve neglected to do this week. I forgot to call Seth back, for one. I chalk it up to fate, but what if he was calling me to tell me everything had been a mistake? That he understood what I was trying to tell him that day in the parking lot? It wouldn’t have changed anything, but it would have felt really good.
That’s a lie. It would have changed everything.
My week was an unmitigated blur without a lot to show for it accomplishment-wise: fruitless apartment search, endless patent briefs all in process, nothing neat and tidy. But I never thought to call Seth—that’s progress. I did not obsess!
I had more time to pray and less time to worry. The days are definitely looking brighter. Except, of course, for Seth and the fact that I’m double obsessing because I didn’t obsess in the first place. I wish I could just write him off, but heaven help me, I like the guy. He’s clueless but charming just the same. As a way of small protest, I skipped church today, just so I wouldn’t have to keep Arin’s gorgeous boyfriend away from the competition. I also didn’t have to field any Seth questions about Arin. Maybe avoidance is the key.