What a Girl Needs Read Free Page B

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