Single Sashimi (8 page)

Wasn’t prayer supposed to make her feel better? She only felt more agitation in her body. It had suddenly, fully dawned on her that Trish’s life was in danger. Her wonderful, fun-loving cousin Trish. They didn’t always get along, sure, but she wouldn’t trade their friendship for anything.

Her cousins were all she had.

Her chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. Trish would be okay, right? Venus had to be making something big out of nothing. So why did her relatives look so somber? She pressed her hand to her sternum, feeling her heart beating against the bone.

She couldn’t even pray for Trish properly. Since when had praying become so hard? Hadn’t she had an easier time of it when she first became a Christian in college?

She’d done a lot of things differently then. Maybe that was it. She’d gone to weekly Bible studies in addition to church, studying the Bible and soaking in all that she could. She’d attended college group, worshiped with complete abandon, felt at ease with both the guys and girls…because she’d been fat. She had recognized it, even back then.

The guys had thought of her as one of them—androgynous. The girls had been friendly with that hint of pity, that relaxation in their smiles because she wasn’t more competition for the cuter guys in the group.

She still read her Bible every day, she still prayed (badly) every day, still attended church every week. But it didn’t have that same enthusiasm, that same spark.

Since when had her faith turned into a smelly, stagnating pond?

Lord…maybe through all these troubles at work you’re trying to tell me something. But I’m not sure what
.

In the meantime… There’s just so much going on at once right now. Please take care of Trish. I’ll bother you later with all my other stuff
.

She was sure that made God just giddy with anticipation.

She pressed her forehead into her hand.

Someone sat beside her. She caught a scent of… Mom’s perfume. Expensive and elegant.

Her eyes snapped open. She raised her head, already feeling her shoulders knot like sailor’s rope.

Mom grabbed her hand, lying loosely in her lap, before Venus could snatch it away. “It’s okay, darling.”

“I’m fine, Mom.” She sat straighter in the uncomfortable plastic chair.

“I saw her earlier. She’s fine, you know.”

Venus didn’t answer, but her mother’s voice had such a strange confidence. It eased the pain in her chest a little, despite the fact she didn’t want it to. She didn’t want her mother’s comfort.

“She’s just like how it was when I had you. First babies typically take longest.”

“It’s over twenty-four hours, Mom. How can that be normal?”

“You took thirty-six.”

Did she know that already? She must have. Mom must have told her at some point in her life, right? Why couldn’t she remember that? “You were in labor for thirty-six hours?”

“It started around midnight, so I was awake for about two days straight.” Despite the horror of her words, Mom’s face seemed serene. Pleasantly reminiscing, even.

“Did you even have strength to push?”

She laughed, and this time it wasn’t that brassy tinkle she usually had. “By that time, I was begging you to come out.”

They lapsed into a silence more comfortable than any she’d had with her mother in a long time.

“Anyway.” Mom patted her hand, then released it and stood up. “I just wanted to tell you that what Trish is going through is fine. You looked worried.”

“Yeah…th-thanks, Mom.” Her mouth almost couldn’t form the words, she’d rarely said them.

Mom moved back to sit with Trish’s parents. She chatted with them with such ease—sweet smiles, nonstop mouth, animated hands.

And the worry lines on Aunty Marian’s face disappeared, and Uncle Arvin flashed one of his winning smiles at his younger sister.

How strange to see Mom useful, rather than whiney, flighty, and irresponsible. No, that was mean. Her mom was always like that—charming, putting people at ease with effortless energy.

Venus didn’t have any of that charm. But she had lots of organizational skills, and a keen mind for business. Rather like…

She saw Grandma sitting on a seat, as elegantly dressed as her daughter, flawless makeup even after hours in this waiting room. Her still-slender figure relaxed as best she could against the chair, cool and collected.

Ruthless, nagging, manipulative. Always getting her way. Ruling her family like a queen over a small country. Running Grandpa’s bank as smoothly as if she’d founded it herself.

No, Venus wasn’t like Grandma.

And yet, Venus had to admit there were times when she envied her. Grandma’s constant poise and command, her sharp mind, her focused energy.

Grandma wouldn’t have gaped at Yardley after his astounding suggestion this afternoon. She’d have given him a decided answer in a heartbeat, and it would have been whatever was best for her career.

Whatever answer that was. Venus didn’t know.

Yardley had told her to think about it, then sauntered out of the office as if he already knew she’d take his offer. Arrogant twit. She wouldn’t be bullied
or
bribed.

Every cell in her body rebelled at giving Yardley the Spiderweb. Look at what he’d already done—since he couldn’t steal it, he’d tried to buy it from her. And she couldn’t forget the tiny fact he gave her the boot, too,
after
trying to steal it from her. No way could she stay there and work under him, no matter how much he offered for the Spiderweb.

But…a V P.

How much power would she really have? They already treated her like a second-class citizen because of her gender, or her looks, or both. And they could fire her at any time, in which case it would all be for nothing.

Her own company was the only way to go. She needed to talk to Grandma.

Right now, before she changed her mind.

Okay, one step at a time. And remember to breathe. Don’t want to faint before you even get to her. Avoid the toy truck and the
Highlights
magazines on the floor. Wouldn’t be good to fall flat on your face and knock yourself out
.

“Grandma?”

She barely heard herself, but apparently Grandma heard her. Red lips parted in a wide smile. “Sit, Venus.”
Come into my lair, my pretty…

Venus gave herself a mental slap.
Focus
. “I had a question—”

Spenser burst into the waiting room. His hair looked like he had blow-dried it upside down, pink splotched his pale face, and he still wore his surgery room smock. He was also grinning brighter than a pulsar.

“It’s a girl!”

I
am so tired of people saying I got off easy!” Trish, sleep-deprived and recently delivered mother, had the wild eyes and hair of one of the three Furies, and looked like she would bite someone’s head off if they came within three feet.

Venus didn’t blame her. Twenty-eight hours of labor wasn’t exactly a cakewalk, even if it wasn’t close to the horror stories everyone was telling her about.

“Everyone” had expanded to Spenser’s mom, who arrived with his son Matthew, and Jenn’s mother. The crowd in Trish’s hospital room made Venus ease out into the hallway, but some nurses rushing past compelled her back into the room, squeezed close to the doorway. She forced herself to breathe deeply, to not hyperventilate. She was very happy for Trish, but she also wanted to go to a quiet place and recover from the stress of the waiting room, the noise of all these people.

And she needed to talk to Grandma.

That probably stressed her out the most. To have to approach her to ask for something, to wait for what she’d require in return. It was like asking Tony Soprano for a favor.

Venus also didn’t do “humble,” “contrite,” or “biddable” very well. If Grandma asked her to do something heinous, Venus wouldn’t be able to hide what she really thought of the idea. And that probably wouldn’t go over too well.

For now, she had to wait. Grandma was busy with Trish, who was holding the baby and trying not to fall asleep. It was kind of cute to see Trish smiling at the baby and dozing at the same time.

And was it just her, or was that baby kind of ugly? Red and wrinkly, and everyone kept saying she looked like Aunty so-n-so or Uncle what’s-his-face, but Venus didn’t think she looked like anyone alive that she knew.

“What are you going to name her?” Aunty Marian touched her granddaughter’s ear.

Grandma straightened. “Oh, you can’t name her yet.”

“What do you mean?” Trish’s eyes popped open. Despite her tiredness, she was wide awake at Grandma’s statement. Venus sighed. Grandma might be back on speaking terms with Trish now that the baby was here, but Trish wasn’t about to kowtow to her after months of the silent treatment.

Grandma had on her “Let’s be reasonable” face. “We have to call the
bonsan
in to tell you what letter the baby’s name has to start with.”

“I’m not even Buddhist. Why would I want the priest in, telling me what to name
my
baby?”

Uh-oh. Trish’s weariness had ratcheted her temper up a notch. Venus started squirming her way around people toward the bed.

“But he has to bless the baby.” Grandma seemed genuinely confused why Trish wouldn’t follow the same tradition she followed with all the aunties and uncles, the same tradition the other cousins in the family followed with their children.

“I’ll get my pastor to bless the baby, and I’ll name—”

“Grandma.” Venus grabbed Trish’s foot under the blanket to make her shut up. “Trish is really tired. We should let her rest.”

On the other side of the bed, Venus’s mom just had to stick her nose in. “I was in labor for thirty-six hours and didn’t need to rest.”

Trish opened her mouth, but Venus pinched her toe hard. Trish gave a soundless yelp and subsided.

“Mom, why don’t I take you and Grandma home.” It wasn’t a question. She speared her mother with a look that dared her to rebel.

Mom flung her hands up, ringed fingers sparkling. “Fine, fine.”

Grandma, however, gave Venus a speculative glance. She never offered to take Grandma home; she usually waited for someone to ask her to do it. And half the time, she had the excuse she was going back to work. A strange smile played on Grandma’s lips as she gathered her purse and said good-bye to everyone.

Venus ignored her mother’s huffing and puffing when she put up the convertible top for Grandma, after refusing to do it for her yesterday. “Mom, is your car still at my place?”

She paused in fluffing her short, permed hair (which Venus didn’t understand, considering there was no one around to see her). “No, Jenn drove me over to get it, and she drove to my apartment with me so she could take me back to the hospital.”

Venus paused, one foot inside the car and one foot out. “Aside from that, you’ve been at the hospital the entire time?”

Her mother’s head, visible above the top of the car, halted before she squeezed into Venus’s miniscule backseat. “Of course. Where else would I be?” She flashed an “I’m such a compassionate aunt” smile before ducking into the car.

Venus caught the smirk on her grandmother’s face as she flipped the passenger seat back into place and eased herself in.

Who knew Grandma had a sardonic streak?

She drove Mom home while listening to her swing between gushing over the baby and grousing about Venus’s tiny car.

“That’s why I’m taking you home first, Mom.” Oops, did she lay the sarcasm on too thick on that one?

“Well, your place is so close. You could have dropped me off there to wait for you while you took Grandma home.”

What was the deal with Mom wanting to spend so much time with her all of a sudden? Her mother had turned into one of those clingy Jellyfish Monsters from the video game who would lock her in a death grip and suck her face off.

By the time they arrived at her mom’s apartment, Venus’s foot itched to give her an extra boost out the door. Well, not
really
. No matter how annoying her mother got, she couldn’t truly want to cause her physical harm. But she wouldn’t feel badly over a few bruises.

Something inside her twinged as she watched Mom amble toward her apartment complex gate. A daughter shouldn’t despise her mother, no matter how unmotherly she’d been for most of her life.

But she’d only become halfway kind to Venus once she’d lost all that weight, not before. And that was hard for any daughter to take. As if to mock her thoughts, her mom gave a cheerful wave before she closed the complex gate and disappeared.

Venus drove away. Now was her chance. Her chest tightened and butterflies fluttered inside—she took a deep breath. In the darkness of the car, somehow Grandma seemed more approachable.
Don’t screw this up
. “Grandma, I need some advice.”

“I’m always happy to help you, Venus.” Her mild voice held a thin, sardonic ribbon.

Venus almost didn’t continue. She wouldn’t be talked down to, not by anyone, especially Grandma. Except she needed her help, so Grandma was entitled to some condescension. She damped down her temper. “I’m thinking of starting my own game development company.”

“What’s your product?” Her voice had changed. Suddenly Venus heard the crisp, confident thread of steel that made her so good at running the bank.

“I have a good idea for a game, but more than that, a friend and I are working on a development tool that will enable all aspects of a game development team to access all other areas—the Spiderweb unites design, animation, and programming.”

“I’m assuming there’s nothing like this tool out there, in any other versions?”

“It’s been tried by other companies, but ours is more comprehensive. There’s nothing close to it out in the market.”

“You don’t want to partner with any other game development companies out there already? It would be the easier option.”

This was a test. Venus knew it somehow. Yardley’s arrogant face flashed in front of her, as well as the faces of the other VPs. She blinked it away. “No. For the Spiderweb, I’d want my own company, my own game.”
I think, anyway
. But she needed to sound confident for Grandma, or she’d rip her idea to shreds. “I’ll succeed or fail on my own.”

“You’re going to quit your current company?” There seemed to be a brighter tone to Grandma’s voice. Venus must have passed the test. She couldn’t be sure because it was dark and she wasn’t about to take her eyes off the road to peer at her grandmother’s darkened face.

“I’m strongly considering it.” Probably. Maybe. Why couldn’t she just make up her mind?

“Do you have enough money?”

Venus hesitated. Here again was the quandary. Before she could formulate her answer, Grandma spoke again. “Do you need—”

“No, I’m not asking you for money.” She made her voice firm. “I still need time to set things up so that I can present to an angel investor. I might work for another company while hiring people, finishing the Spiderweb, designing the game demo.”

“Then what do you need from me?”

“Angel investor recommendations.”

“Is your business plan drawn up?”

“I’m working on it now.” It wasn’t totally a lie—she had a generic template on her computer at home, and a few lines written in it. “I’m not sure if I’ll need it, because I have an open invite from a friend at EA to show them our demo when it’s done.”

“I have to admit, I’m not as familiar with the gaming industry.”

Okay, one—Grandma was actually admitting to imperfection, and two—did that mean she couldn’t help Venus? “Most gaming investors want to see a good game demo rather than a business plan. Once we finish the Spiderweb, we’ll work on that. I have a game idea that’s unique enough to stand out in the current market, and what will really sell it is how little time it took to create the demo because of the Spiderweb.”

Grandma was silent. Had she offended her with her explanation of the gaming industry? No, Venus wouldn’t second-guess herself. She wasn’t going to waste her time or Grandma’s if there wasn’t anything she could do for her.

“You’ve given this a lot of thought.” Grandma sounded faintly surprised.

“I wouldn’t jump into this on a whim.” Venus wasn’t her mother.

“No, I wouldn’t think you would.”

What? A compliment from Grandma? Venus must be hearing things.

“I have one friend in the gaming industry. His name is Hudson Collins.”

Hudson Collins???
The “ungettable get”? The most prestigious, respected investor in the video game industry in the entirety of northern California? Everything Hudson chose to pursue turned to gold, so he had gained an almost magical reputation with video game publishers. If Hudson decided to back a particular project, doors opened like the thieves’ cave in the
Arabian Nights
.

If Venus could show Hudson her demo, he’d instantly realize the potential of both the game and the Spiderweb. And they’d be set.

“I could speak to him about you.”

“You would?”

Venus waited for the other shoe to drop. What would Grandma want in exchange? These days, since Venus had turned thirty, Grandma nagged a lot about dating. Although come to think of it, she’d backed off once Trish announced she was pregnant.

Still, what had Jenn said? Her theory was that Grandma was feeling her age, and grandchildren—and great-grandchildren—were her immortality. She also thought Grandma’s only Christian friend, Mrs. Matsumoto, had said something that hit too close to home, which was why Grandma chose to persecute the four cousins—the only Christians in their family.

Venus steeled herself. Who would Grandma want her to meet and possibly marry? (Because she was sure Grandma’s imagination did not stop at dating.) She hoped it wouldn’t be anyone totally dweeby. Geeks she was okay with—she worked with geeks.

“Here’s what I’ll do for you, Venus. I’ll mention your company to him. When you’re ready, and not a second before”—Grandma’s voice rang like a unsheathed
katana
sword—“I’ll introduce you to Hudson.”

Meaning, don’t take this opportunity and mess it up with incompetence or inadequate planning
. “I won’t embarrass you, Grandma.”

Grandma started—Venus saw it out of the corner of her eye. Then she turned to Venus and laid a hand on her leg. “I’m glad we understand each other.” But there wasn’t a threat in her voice. It was more like … admiration. Did Grandma actually
approve
of her?

She turned into Grandma’s driveway and waited while she got out. Venus suddenly saw that yes, she was moving a bit slower than normal. She still favored her right hip—Lex had noticed that a year ago and pointed it out to them.

Grandma leaned down to speak to Venus. “You’re smarter than anyone else in the family, you know. I think you can do this.” She swung the door closed.

Venus could only gape. The air stopped in her throat as if a hand had cut off her esophagus. She watched Grandma walk up to the front door, unlock it, and let herself in. Only then did her throat open up, and she sucked in a whooshing breath.

Who had kidnapped her grandmother and replaced her with this
nice
woman?

Maybe her cousins were right. Maybe Grandma did relate to her because they were alike on some level. She’d felt comfortable talking business with her. They’d known exactly the deeper meanings behind what was said.

Maybe, with Grandma’s help, her company could succeed.

Only after she backed out of the driveway did she realize Grandma hadn’t yet told her what she expected in return.