When I get home, I realize that Kevin has a point. It’s been a long time since I prioritized my life. I slide down the side of the bed, onto the hardwood floor, and Rhett rests his face in my lap.
“I coulda been somebody, Rhett. I coulda been a contender,” I say in my best Marlon Brando. Rhett just looks at me questioningly. It’s probably not a good thing when you confuse your dog.
I used to make lists all the time so I would accomplish my goals. Somewhere along the line, I just started letting life happen to me instead. I reach under my bed, while Rhett sticks his nose as far as it will go. I rummage through my old journal with a few of my many lists from back then. Oddly, the first one I come across is one I made on the plane with Kevin—about who I would date.
I will not be attracted to guys who:
1. Play video games.
2. Watch science fiction movies more than once.
3. Confuse Jesus with Frodo.
4. View dutch treat as an acceptable first-date option.
5. Take me for a meal with a coupon in hand. (They should value me!)
As I look over this old scribbled list, I realize that Seth meets every one of those criteria. I’ve blamed him for everything, but I see now that I knew better all along. Seth is a fabulous person, but he is who he is, and that was completely wrong for me. Why did I waste a year of my life figuring out what I already knew? From the looks of this list, I knew long before I started seeing him. I rip out the list and stuff it in my pocket.
I look up at the ceiling, and I realize that God did probably tell me a few times, but I thought Seth coming to Las Vegas to sweep me off my feet at my brother’s wedding was the sign I was looking for—a clear and vibrant sign that what I wanted was God’s will for my life. But how could it have been? It took me away from my singing with the band. Away from my evenings out with my church group, and away from my regular stint at the family shelter. When something is God’s will, it should take you toward Him, shouldn’t it?
“Well, couldn’t You have told me that in the first place?” I say out loud to God. But I can almost hear Him laughing at me and my theories. Fish or cut bait. It was my turn all the time to cut bait. I had the power all along and never took it.
If I’m ever truly going to be in control of my life, I have to let God be in control of it. I take out my Blackberry, determined to start a new list. A list that I actually look at once in a while and take seriously. I turn on the PDA and my calendar comes up and I just start to laugh.
At the start of every day, Kevin has written the following:
Wake up. Pray!
Notice how gorgeous I am.
Call Kevin!
How on earth did he do that so fast? I scroll through my calendar, and it’s written on each and every day as though a standing appointment. But I’ve learned my lesson. There’s no sign here. I need to think, so I’m heading to the beach. Whenever I feel that I can’t get close to God, or that the shouting is overwhelming His voice, I head toward the mighty waves where I can think clearly.
My phone trills and the calendar-boy contractor is pounding away on the bathroom next door. Is it any wonder I can’t concentrate? “Hello,” I answer the phone with a bit of attitude. No caller ID. Sigh.
“Ashley Stockingdale, please.”
“Who’s calling, please?”
“Ashley, it’s me, Tracy. From work.”
“Tracy, I’m sorry. How are things going? Did you find everything you needed for the board? I hope you’re not having any trouble because of me.”
“On the contrary. They saw your draft for that new product, and Ashley, they went crazy! They want to know if you can come back in today. They’ll end your probation period and promise not to put any of this Hans business on your permanent record.”
Act. Don’t react.
“Tracy, can you put them off for the day? I just need a little time to gather my thoughts.”
“No problem, Ashley. I’ll just say I didn’t get a hold of you. I’m so happy I’ll have you back. These men are rotten bosses!”
“Tracy?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you. For believing me about Hans and fighting for me when I didn’t deserve it.”
“Us girls gotta stick together. It’s a dog’s world out there.”
“Amen to that.” We laugh, and I hang up the phone with more confidence. I pick up Rhett’s leash and grab my cell phone when the oddest thought occurs to me. Without really contemplating, I call up Kevin’s pager and punch my number in.
“Come on, Rhett. Let’s go play fetch on the beach.” I grab my journal and a jacket. I don’t feel good enough to slap on makeup, so I go au naturel. I dig through the kitchen and find some brie and crackers left over from this week’s Bible study. I grab that and a Diet Coke and a banana and put them all in a basket, with a bowl and some bottled waters for Rhett.
As I’m exiting the house, I dial Kevin.
“Hi, Kevin, I’m not really sure why I called, actually.”
“Because it’s in your Blackberry. I know you’re a slave to the PDA, so I’ve made your PDA my slave.”
“Yes, that was quite ingenious of you to figure out the standing appointment feature. I see where the Mensa membership comes into play.”
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Um, no.” Rhett is pulling on his leash, so I head to the car and start it, allowing the convertible’s top to lower. “Rhett and I are going to the beach,” I say, somewhat hopefully.
“I wish I weren’t on call,” Kevin says.
I shrug. “I understand. It’s not all of us who can live a life of leisure and unemployment continuously.”
“You’ll have your job back soon, Ashley.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me through the phone. “I start back today. But I still need a time to gather my thoughts. I’ve been going full-steam ahead in the wrong direction. I found a list of qualities I didn’t want in a man. Today, I’m going to make a list of qualities I do want.”
“Well, that’s simple. You want what every girl wants: a good Christian pediatric surgeon, who loves children and would go to the ends of the earth for you.”
I feel my face flame. But I have to say, his list makes a good deal of sense.
“And would buy me a two-carat princess-cut diamond,” I add facetiously.
“Ooh, thank you for playing our game, but that is our parting gift. I was hoping you were more the antique chip-diamond sort of girl.”
I start to giggle. “No, I’m really sorry to let you down, but actually, I am the two-carat sort. Remember that old African tale about the seven-cow wife, and how a husband paid seven cows for his wife when the going rate was only one cow?”
“I’m not familiar with that story. But I have a feeling you’re going to enlighten me?”
“The husband paid seven cows because he wanted a seven-cow wife. I, however, prefer to think of myself in carats. I’m a two-carat wife.”
“I prefer to think in terms of rubies, and you’re worth far above them,” he says, reciting Proverbs 31. Our joking banter dies in his words. I got myself in trouble once before by not stopping and hearing the voice of God. I can’t do it again.
“I need to get to the beach. Rhett’s getting anxious and there’s nothing more lovely than a beach in winter.”
“Be careful,” Kevin warns.
“I intend to.” I hang up the phone, wrap my hound’s-tooth scarf around my hair, and place my DKNY sunglasses on my face. Grab-bing the steering wheel, I look to my copilot. “Ready, Rhett?”
He whimpers, and I start up the car with a roar. We don’t get out of the driveway when my phone trills again. “Hello, Ashley Stockingdale,” I say professionally as I remove the scarf from my ear.
“It’s Seth.”
My reaction is not registering. I don’t know what I feel at the sound of his name. Really, I guess I feel nothing, and that’s a good thing.
“Hi, Seth, how’s India?”
“The software engineers aren’t getting it, and they can’t make the telecommunications transformers work. We’re coming back to America. This was a lesson in futility.”
“You’ll have to be sure and see Rhett when you come back. He’s gotten so big, Seth.” I rev my engine again and squeal out of the driveway as I put the cordless feature into my ear.
“I’m back now, Ashley. The company is moving back within the month.”
Think of your list, Ashley. His presence means nothing to you. You are a woman in control of her destiny. Because God is in control.
“Maybe I’ll see you around then. I need to get going. I have a date this afternoon.” I look at Rhett and pat his head while I push the “end call” button.
I don’t enjoy the drive to the ocean, like I usually do. Although the sun is out and the air is crisp among the great redwoods, my heart is in utter turmoil. Life used to be so easy when it was about my theories and the way life should be. But life isn’t that way. It doesn’t fol-low the road I’ve mapped out, but it’s more fun than I planned for.
I drive into the beach parking lot, and my eyes fall to the page where my Bible is opened. There’s only one verse highlighted on the page, and it reads, “The mind of sinful man is death, but the mind controlled by the Spirit is life.” And it dawns on me, like the sun breaking over San Francisco Bay, that I am controlled by my whims.
Life is a decision. Every day I wake up and decide who I’m going to be. Brea decided to be a mother. I decided to be a woman whose life was controlled by utter chaos. Well, no more. From this day forward I make the decision to live life to the fullest. And I know exactly what that means.