Only Uni (26 page)

This added more stress to her already considerably stressful life. Well, she had broken rule number one with Kevin earlier. Blatantly, despite her protests.

Was this God punishing her some more?

Very early Tuesday morning, Trish walked to the park near work and shivered on a bench beneath a few redwood trees. Flowers dotted the cement walkways that cut through the grass, still silvered by dew except where the early sunlight made it evaporate in steamy wisps. Occasional finches and sparrows flitted by, but the only other people were a few volleyball players enjoying an outdoor doubles match. Two tall Caucasian men with gorilla arms against a tall Asian guy and a Caucasian woman at least as tall as her partner. The Asian had a narrow but dashing face while his body corded with muscles, but Trish didn’t feel even a twinge of interest.

She heaved a long, slow sigh. Who cared about guys when she was homeless? The gang-territory apartment was looking better and better.

Maybe she should suck it up and pay for an expensive apartment to buy her time to find something better. She wasn’t poor, but she hadn’t been scrimping and saving for a house like Lex had, and she didn’t have a generous cushion in the bank. How long would she be able to live with rent that ate up four-fifths of her monthly income?

She could try to squeeze her stuff into her parents’ tiny home, but she didn’t think she could survive the commute — three hours every day. Plus she didn’t want to have to move in with her adulterous rat fink father, on whom she’d wasted thirty years of unctuous adulation.

(Oooh, unctuous adulation. Who said reading romances didn’t make a girl smarter?)

She hadn’t talked to anyone about her dad since the news had put her mother in the hospital. She needed to do
something
at some point, but how to pick a good time to confront her parents about something that might tear their marriage apart?

The housing in the Bay Area was supposed to be a renter’s market right now, but yesterday had turned up nothing. Why the sudden drought? Wasn’t God going to come through for her?

Her cell phone pierced through the quiet, making the Asian guy miss a spike. “Hello?”

“Is this Trish? This is Mrs. Choi, from church.”

She was going to be fired from teaching. She’d sent Griselle into a nervous breakdown. One of the parents was suing the church. “Everything okay with Sunday school?”

“Oh, yes, dear. This isn’t about that. Are you still looking for housing?”

Trish shot up from the bench. “Yes!”

“Well, my nephew George — I don’t know if you know him, he doesn’t go to our church anymore. He bought a house in San Jose, but he decided to go on a yearlong overseas mission. He left for training in Missouri and asked me to find someone to rent his home. To pay the mortgage, you understand.”

She crossed her fingers. “Where in San Jose, and how much?”

“Near the border of Los Gatos, near Camden Avenue and 85. But the rent is a bit expensive . . .” She named a price.

Trish broke into a frenzied happy dance in the middle of the park. A wiggly terrier barked at her, and its owner tugged it away, casting her a nervous glance.

“Mrs. Choi, that’s quite a reasonable price. Are you sure that’s correct?”
You didn’t forget a zero or anything like that, did you?

“Oh no, it’s correct. George sold some stock and paid a large down payment, I believe. That’s the amount of his monthly mortgage payments.”

Trish could have kissed George. Wonderful, financially responsible young man. Should she take it, sight unseen? Well, it was George’s house or the ’hood. Trish didn’t know San Jose very well, but Los Gatos reeked of affluence. It was also about thirty minutes from work. Even if she didn’t like the house, she at least had a place to stay while she looked for other housing. “Mrs. Choi, I’d love to move in. As soon as possible.”

“Oh. Why don’t you move in tomorrow? Here’s the address . . .” It was off of Highway 85. Better and better. “I’ll meet you at the house tomorrow. Around noon?”

“Yes, thanks, Mrs. Choi.”

Trish hung up with her heart still pounding with adrenaline. She had so much to do. She needed to call Jenn, who had promised to let her use her brand-spankin’ new SUV — Trish had only had to bully her a
little
— and to help her move. She hadn’t told her mother about anything — Marnie, the fire, the eviction — so she needed to break the news to her today.
Oh joy.

But at least Trish had a place to stay.
Thank you, God. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.

“Venus, I love you, but you’re taking up valuable car space.” Trish leaned against the open passenger side window of Jenn’s SUV when they drove into her company’s parking lot.

Venus motioned back with her head. “Lex brought her car, too.”

Oh, good. She turned her head to see Lex drive up in the used Toyota Camry she’d bought last year. While it wasn’t new, it was still ten years younger than her last klunker. Since Lex had driven, Trish supposed it was better that Venus take up car space than try to help move her stuff in her little sporty convertible.

Trish was very glad no one came to work that Saturday morning to witness the four cousins carrying boxes out the back door of Valley Pharmaceuticals. She’d stored her futon bed in Venus’s living room, and she didn’t have as many boxes as she thought. There was room to spare in Jenn’s truck, Trish’s little RAV4, and Lex’s Toyota.

“Why don’t we put everything into two cars and drive together?” Venus leaned a hip against Jenn’s truck.

Jenn put a box into her trunk. “Let’s leave Lex’s car.”

“No, can’t.” Trish stuck a box into the truck. “Security would tow it.”

“Well, then, let’s leave your car. They won’t tow that.” Venus moved to remove a box from Trish’s backseat.

They crammed the SUV and Lex’s car, with just enough room to spare for Trish to ride with Jenn and Venus.

“And we’re off!” She trailed her arm out the backseat open window as they headed out of her company parking lot, Lex’s car trailing behind them.

“Hey, you guys!”

“What’s that?” Trish tried to lean forward, but the lamp on the middle console nearly took her eye out. “That sounds like Lex.”

She managed to shove the lamp aside and saw Venus lifting a walkie-talkie to her mouth. “We’re here, Lex.” Venus turned her head toward her. “Aiden gave her his walkie-talkies when he heard we were caravanning to your new digs.”

“Oh. That was smart.” Trust a guy to think of something practical like that.

“Hey!” Lex’s voice crackled over the walkie-talkie. “Ask Trish about her mom.”

Venus reached back between the lamp and a box of kitchen appliances to hand the walkie-talkie to Trish.

“Uh . . . hello?”

“So how’s your mom?” Lex asked.

Trish put the walkie-talkie close to her mouth. “She’s okay. She almost looks like she’s back to normal, except she looks a little tired sometimes.”

“How’s your dad?” Jenn asked from the front.

Trish didn’t answer immediately. The thought of him still made her stomach gurgle. Or maybe that was the breakfast burrito she ate this morning.

“So how’s your dad?” Lex asked through the walkie-talkie.

“He’s fine, I guess.” Then she realized she had forgotten to press the button, and she had to repeat it for Lex. This was just a weird conversation.

“Did you hear any more about him and Alice?” Lex asked.

“No.”

“Did you talk to him about it?” Venus turned to look back at her.

“Are you kidding me? He’s my father, and he’s Asian. We’ve never had a deep, serious conversation in my life.”

Jenn sighed. “Not all Asian men are uncommunicative, you know.”

“Yeah, well, my father is. He made Mom give me the sex talk — which I totally didn’t understand because Mom kept not finishing her sentences, she was so embarrassed — and when he didn’t like my boyfriends, he always made Mom talk to me rather than telling me himself.”

“He does love you, though.” Jenn sighed again, and Trish’s annoyance dimmed as she remembered Jenn’s heartache at the sporadic visits from her father after her parents’ divorce a few years ago. And Venus’s dad was cold and aloof, giving his approval sparingly — at least Trish’s father had always been warm and welcoming to her and her friends.

“I can’t talk about it with Mom when she’s still so fragile.”

The walkie-talkie crackled. “Have you seen him since then?”

“No, just talked with him on the phone. We always talk about Mom and keep it short.”

“Maybe he and your mom are working it out themselves.” Jenn twisted around to check behind her as she switched lanes.

Venus snorted. “Do you honestly believe they’re talking about it?”

“Well, he’s been really attentive to Trish’s mom. It’s not just guilt. That does say something.”

“That’s true.”

Trish wanted to believe it and yet she was afraid to hope.

Silence reigned in the car except for Trish giving directions every few minutes. Finally Jenn asked, “How’s your MDiv thing going?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of volunteer work lately.” Like helping young children swallow hamsters and watching Korean soap operas. “In a few weeks, I’m going to ask people for references. Then I can finish the application form and send it in.”

“See, Venus? She’s really serious about it.” Jenn sounded satisfied.

“Well, she still hasn’t done it, so you haven’t won yet.”

“Excuse me, I’m right here. You bet on me?” Trish shoved the lamp further aside. She could see the outline of Venus’s cheek, which had reddened.

“We didn’t exactly bet on you . . .”

“I’m sure you’ll do it.” Jenn exited the freeway. “Your motives are different this time — you’re not just looking for something new to do.”

“Turn left, then go straight down Camden past two stoplights.” Trish re-read her notes, scribbled down when Mrs. Choi had given her the directions. She sat back in her cramped seat. Were her motives different? She hadn’t really thought about them very much when she first started doing the whole MDiv thing. Well, actually, she’d wanted to prove to her cousins she was serious. But hadn’t she also wanted to prove it to herself?

“Okay, turn right here.” Her heart pounded as she drove down the quiet, tree-lined street. Jenn let out an envious, “Ooo, what a neighborhood.”

Beautiful houses paraded down the block. Although small in size and a bit old, all of them flaunted manicured lawns and preened with the sharpness of conscientious care.

“Okay, turn left here.”

The side street bore houses not quite as well-kept, but still respectable. Oh, except for that hideous house at the end of the block . . .

Ominous premonition tugged at her. Her gut quivered and her throat tightened.
Please don’t tell me. . .

They came to a halt in front of the dilapidated wreck. “Number 5271.” Trish wanted to howl.

Paint peeled from the siding in long jagged strips. Waist-high weeds crowded the front yard, and crawlers spilled into the cracked sidewalk where an ancient tree drooped dead branches over the street. Weeds dripped from the rain gutters, and a flat basketball slumped on the roof. Oil stains lay like bombing practice targets on the driveway, while the garage door cracked open at the bottom. Trish doubted it would open at all.

They parked on the street and climbed out of the cars. To reach the front door, they swam through the weeds on stepping stones drowned in the sea of vegetation. Cobwebs clothed a small, dingy front window and the rusted screen door next to it.

Lex pulled a handful of weeds and swept the cobwebs from the window. They peeked through gaping holes in the curtain but couldn’t see anything. A twist to the doorknob confirmed the lock worked.

Trish stumbled back to the truck and sagged against it. She felt like Cinderella, radiant in her new gown on the night of the ball, entering the palace . . . to find everyone had gone home already.

They went back to the cars. She wanted to drip down the side of the truck, but Jenn rubbed her shoulder. “Cheer up, Trish. It’s only temporary until you find something else.”

“I don’t think I’ll even be able to live here.”

An old, gigantic town car pulled up to the house and Mrs. Choi emerged, stunned and dismayed. “Oh my goodness. Trish, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the house was like this.”