Free Single Sashimi by Camy Tang Page B

sincerity and a touch of arrogance. “If you sell us that program, I’ll make you our new VP of Programming.”

    He had asked Edgar to steal it.
    Her CTO had asked a junior programmer to break into her home and steal her software.
    This was not happening.
    What also wasn’t happening was her cousin’s baby.
    Lex flung herself into the plastic waiting chair next to Venus. “They gave her another epidural.”
    Venus put down her magazine. “Another one? Why? Didn’t the first one work?”
    “They gave it to her too early. It’s already worn off.”
    “She’s going to be okay, right?” Venus could barely voice the question. An emptiness echoed in her head, behind her eyes. Trish wasn’t in danger, was she? Sweet, fun Trish?
    “I think so.” Lex’s voice was soft.
    They sat in silence. The murmur of the waiting room washed over them. Venus forgot to breathe through her mouth and caught a whiff of hospital smell—antiseptics mingled with sweaty children’s bodies from a few other families waiting for their own mothers. She wondered if in the future she ought to carry a bottle of Febreze or Lysol in her car.
    Neither Venus nor Lex were huggy types, but she reached for Lex’s hand, squeezing it. Lex squeezed back so tightly, Venus’s bones creaked.
    Lex suddenly let go. “Aiden.” She leaped up and darted toward her boyfriend, who’d just entered the waiting room.
    Venus liked Aiden. Quiet and controlled, he complemented Lex’s craziness. He was a bit too sensitive a person for Venus—she tended toward causticness, and sometimes surprised him with the things she said—but he always treated her with respect. He saw Venus, the person.
    The two of them stood talking, Lex slim and athletic (Venus would kill for hip bones like hers), Aiden lean and fluid in his motions. The volleyball player and the runner. Made for each other.
    No one was made for her. Because even if the perfect man found her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to trust him. In the past, she’d been one of the guys—aggressive by necessity of her gender, but valued (she thought) for her abilities. Now she was never sure what men wanted from her—it seemed like they only saw her as a sex object. She hoped there were some who didn’t, but she couldn’t tell. All of it made her too cynical to ever be in a relationship.
    And after seeing Trish’s torturous labor, she wasn’t really sure she wanted to do the whole “get married and have babies” thing. Although, granted, Trish had skipped the “get married” part.
    She admired Trish. Bubbly, ditzy, determined Trish, pregnant with her ex-boyfriend’s baby, yet plowing forth as a single mother. She’d decided on this before the engagement, before she and Spenser even started dating.
    She had more guts than Venus had ever had.
    Trish had been in too much pain—she hadn’t wanted anyone in the room with her except Jenn and Spenser. So Venus sat out here, no help to Trish’s parents, not willing to sit next to Grandma to be quizzed or nagged, and not wanting to sit next to her mother, who still remained with them in the waiting room.
    She tossed aside her gossip mag and crossed her arms. She should pray. It was so hard, especially after a long, stressful day, to just stop her mind from thinking and be able to focus on anything that didn’t involve graphics and game controllers. She knew God was there, but it seemed jarring to drop everything, to stop and talk to Him.
    Dear God . She cleared her throat. Refolded her hands. Shifted in the seat. Dear God .
    You already said that .
    Dear—um… Please watch over Trish. Please help the baby come soon. Without too much pain. Or problems. Please don’t let Trish… She didn’t want to say the word, as if saying it would make it come true. Please keep her safe and, uh…alive. And the baby too. Amen .
    Her prayers were horrible, but even more so in times of need, like now. She figured God didn’t mind, since He listened to her prayers every