Single Sashimi (23 page)

Lately she’d treated him with regard and politeness versus thinly veiled hostility. He could thank the stash of Reese’s in his desk for that. And they might even be doing her good—she was less bony lately.

He’d have a chance to talk to her in a few weeks at the youth group ski retreat in Lake Tahoe. Four days in a cabin with twenty teenagers would make her eager to spend some time outside, alone with him.

Until then, he’d tread carefully. She’d be peevish at work on Monday after the disaster tonight.

He’d make sure to stick a Reese’s on her desk in the morning.

D
rake wasn’t a bad driver, but he was driving her nuts.

He’d change lanes to pass when she would have waited for the car in the other lane to zoom by and pulled in behind him. He’d wait behind a slow-moving vehicle when she’d have zipped left and passed him. He’d accelerate at first when merging onto the freeway, but then he’d slow down if there was a car approaching—supposedly to let it pass him before he merged into traffic—but the car would inevitably slow down too, because
most
drivers sped up when merging, and then the two of them would be going 45 mph on the freeway!

Venus slouched in the passenger seat, crumpling the maps to Lake Tahoe in her fists. She’d wanted to drive, but Drake’s SUV took more passengers than her little BMW convertible, so she’d agreed to navigate. If she didn’t grab the steering wheel from him before they even got to Lake Tahoe.

Drake gave her a sidelong look, as if he knew what she was thinking. Venus ignored him, concentrating on the U-Haul in front of them and the giggling of the high school girls in the backseats.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said.

“No, you don’t.”

“Just shut up and let me drive.”

“I haven’t said a word.”

“You’re practically shouting when you grab the dash, or grab the door handle, or roll your eyes and look back.”

She sniffed. “I look back to check on the girls.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes.

Okay, so she was a little bit of a control freak. He already knew that. He should have let her drive.

She suddenly heard the scream from The Who’s “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” made famous to her generation as the opening theme for
CSI: Miami
. She’d programmed her phone to play it when Jaye called. She opened her purse and fumbled for her cell phone.

“What ring tone do you have for me?” Drake asked.

“Darth Vader.” The girls in the backseat erupted in giggles at that. She flipped open the phone. “Hi, Jaye.”

“Venus, I’m at the airport.”

“Airport? Why?”

“I—”

The girls in the back started chanting the
dum-dum-de-dum
from
Star Wars
that signaled Darth Vader’s entrance onto Princess Leia’s starship. “Jaye? What did you say?”

“And—”

“Quiet, back there. Jaye, repeat what you said.”

“Mom fell and hurt her ankle last night. I’m flying to Arizona.”

“She’s okay?”

“Yeah, just a sprain.”

“How long will you be gone?” Now the girls were chattering about
Star Wars
episodes two and three—specifically, about how hot the Anakin Skywalker actor was. “Will you guys keep it down? How long?”

“Probably a week. Got time off of work.”

“Is Nancy home? I can stop by next week—”

Now the girls were pulling Mika’s long hair into some Padméesque styles while Mika squealed.

Venus twisted around in her seat.
“Will you guys shut up?”

Five pairs of eyes grew as large as mochi ice cream balls.

Maybe the phrase “shut up” had been a bit harsh. But at least she could hear Jaye now. “What did you say?”

“Nancy and Junior are coming with me.”

Taking his family with him for only an ankle sprain? That seemed…odd. “Well, I’ll work on the testing until you get back.”

“Sorry to leave you like this. If you need anything, just call my cell phone. Gotta go, Venus, we’re boarding.”

“Talk to you later.” She clapped the phone shut.

Temporarily chastened, the girls kept their conversations low enough to wake only half a graveyard, and Drake didn’t comment on what he’d overheard, so Venus had a few moments of peace. She suddenly felt so…alone. An irrational fear of being abandoned rose up in her.

That was ridiculous. Jaye had created the Spiderweb with her. He’d never leave her.

“You’ll be fine, Venus.” Drake didn’t look at her.

How did he always know what she was thinking? “Of course I’ll be fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? I’m always fine.”

“How long will he be gone?” His reasonable tone irritated her like her control top pantyhose digging into her stomach.

“Just a week. He’s only on a trip to Arizona.”

He gave her a sidelong look.

“I’ll simply work on the Spiderweb while he’s gone.”

“Of course you will.”

“I can even fix all the bugs. Without him.”

“Of course you can.”

“Besides, I’m a control freak.”

“We all know that.”

She glared at him. “You’re not helping.”

“You’re stressing too much. Relax. We’re on a ski trip to Lake Ta hoe.”

“I don’t ski.” She turned away to look out the window.

“You’ll still be able to relax.”

She stuck her chin out. “No, I won’t. I brought my laptop.”

Drake slid her a sideways glance. “Are you serious? You brought your laptop?”

“Of course I’m serious. I need to work. I have tons to do.” Drake, of all people, would know she wasn’t a slacker.

“What kind of work?”

“Emails.”

“Oh.” His face relaxed.

“And I need to log in to the server to check a few new applications.”

He shot her a disbelieving look. “Venus. We’re going to a cabin.”

Had the altitude gotten to him? “And?”

“It’s old. It’s a rental.”

“So?”

“Venus.” He sounded like he was talking to a three-year-old. “You can’t work there.”

“What…what are you talking about?” A rumbling started in the bottom of her stomach. She was starting to see where he was going.

“There’s no high-speed Internet at the cabin. There’s only dial-up.”

“Aren’t you kind of young to be thinking about college?” Venus dumped another half-shovel of snow to the side and paused in her digging. Yet again. The junior high and high school girls’ enthusiasm over digging in the snow made up for her lack.

“Come on, Venus, dig!” David called to her from farther down the run, where he and several junior high boys were digging a banked curve.

She wished, for the hundredth time, that she’d opted to go skiing instead of staying here at the cabin. David had conveniently forgotten to tell her about the annual sled run—the youth group rented the same cabin every year, and it had a long, sloping field between it and the cabin next door, which was perfect for a sled run.

She slid a few inches in the packed ice, making a shallow gouge in the steep initial drop to the run that enabled the kids to build up speed on the way down. Thank goodness for her expensive boots with specialty non-skid soles—well, not completely non-skid, but they’d been low-skid for most of the morning. They’d been a last-minute purchase the day before they left for the trip.

The high school girls had gotten positively clingy last night, their first night at the cabin. They’d never had a female staff worker specifically for the high school girls on the ski trip, since Keiko rarely went, and Kat worked primarily with the junior high girls. So they stuck to her like limpets and even listened when she did the nightly devotion before lights out in the large bedroom where all the girls slept on sleeping bags.

Including Venus. She hadn’t known until arriving at the cabin, and the horror of it made David ask her if she was okay.

Drake had anticipated her lack of planning and brought an extra sleeping bag, but he hadn’t had to look so smug about it when he handed it to her. She’d never “roughed it” before (and she knew this wasn’t really roughing it). She’d been too busy the weeks before to find out more about the cabin, but she knew it was privately owned and rented out to the high school kids every year, so she assumed it would be like a two-star hotel. Even a beachside motel in Oregon where she’d once stayed had had bedding and
wireless
.

The high school girls clustered around her now, helping to dig their famous sled run, and chattering only a little faster than they dug.

Mika flipped some snow at Naomi, who squealed. “I’m thinking about colleges now because Mom is making me do it.”

“But you don’t have to apply for another two years.”

Mika shrugged. “That’s the way Mom is.”

“I have to apply later this year, and it’s hard to figure out where to go,” Naomi said.

“Sometimes it’s easy.” Sarah flicked snow at Rachel. “You know you’re not smart enough to get into Stanford.”

“Hey!” Rachel tossed snow at her. “How would you know? My grades could magically improve in the next year.”

“You also have to think about if your parents can afford it.” Venus started digging again.

Rachel stuck her tongue out at her. “Well, Mika won’t have to worry about it. She’s got good grades and her parents are doctors.”

Naomi nodded. “She can go wherever she wants.”

“But that only makes it harder to know where to go.” Mika tucked a strand of hair under her knitted cap.

“Yeah, how did you know where to go?”

Bright eyes turned on Venus like headlights.

“Uh…” Hers had been a no-brainer. She’d been accepted at Stanford but gone to San Jose State since her father hadn’t been making enough, but by the time she wanted to get her Master’s, he—she suspected with a loan from Grandma—had been able to send her to Stanford for a couple years.

“Well, first you look at finances. Then you figure out how far away from home you want to go. Then you look to see what colleges offer classes in the major you might want.” Hey, she was sounding like she knew what she was talking about.

“But how did you know where God wanted you to go?”

Oh. That’s right. God’s will. “Um…”

“I mean, sometimes I pray about something, like which electives to take at school, and He doesn’t answer me.”

“Or like, which boy to ask to Sadies.”

“Or whether to quit soccer and join track.”

“And I don’t want to make a mistake. It might change the entire course of my life.” Naomi’s eyes had grown large and fearful.

The girls were so in earnest, Venus wasn’t even tempted to roll her eyes. Problem was, she didn’t know either. “Well…”

“And even if I kind of know what I think God wants me to do, sometimes it’s so hard to do it.”

“Yeah! Like, I don’t really want to help babysit the kids for the summer adult Bible study, even if the church does pay me, but I know God wants me to do it.”

“Oh, I like babysitting,” Naomi said.

“Well then, you take it. I want to take more hours at my other job.”

“Okay. Tell Mrs. Cathcart.”

“Oh, but…” Rachel turned to Venus. “Like that! How do I know God wants me to do the babysitting instead of Naomi? Maybe He wants me to learn something from it. Or what if He sent Naomi to offer because He doesn’t want me to do it, because I don’t want to?”

“Things like that,” Mika said. “How can you find out what God wants you to do, versus what you want to do?”

“And then make yourself do it if you don’t like it?”

The girls looked at her and amazingly shut their mouths. Venus started to sweat even more than she already was. Knowing God’s will? When was the last time she’d even prayed for God’s will?

She had to say something. “Um…sometimes…you just don’t know.” Was that right? Knowing her luck, she’d advise them to do something completely wrong. Shouldn’t her extensive Bible reading lend her an answer? Maybe she should have them talk to David about it, or Pastor Lester.

“It’s getting dark; let’s get back to the cabin.” She waved to David. “It’s four thirty!”

“We’ll be right there.”

They gathered up the shovels to store inside the toolshed. Kat would be making dinner for them all about now, and Venus could eat an entire pan of lasagna. Drake and the others who’d gone skiing would be back soon, and she wanted to make sure she and the other kids got some before the hungry skiing crew got their hands on the grub.

Suddenly Kat rushed out of the cabin and headed toward them, slipping in the snow.

Venus told herself not to panic, but her heart did a ski jump anyway. “What is it?”

“Rebecca,” she panted.

“What about her? She’s inside, isn’t she?”

“She had a fight with a couple junior high girls earlier this afternoon, so I told her to go outside and cool off. She’s supposed to help me cook, so I looked for her but I can’t find her.”