The Someday List (16 page)

He showed up about two hours into Aunt Irene's four-hour
hip replacement surgery and joined Uncle Charles, Aunt Melba,
Rachelle, and Pastor Taylor in the waiting room. The folks who
had called earlier and told Rachelle they would be stopping by
the hospital never materialized.

When lunchtime rolled around, Troy accompanied Rachelle
and Melba to the hospital's cafeteria.

"Just the smell of that food makes my stomach turn;' Rachelle
said as they rode the elevator to the basement.

"You get used to it, and after a while it doesn't faze you," Troy
said. He let the ladies step out first, then walked between them
to their destination.

Melba raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you worked in a hospital too-a singing, mechanical engineer physician?"

Troy threw his head back and laughed. It was contagious. Rachelle and Melba joined in.

"You guys think I'm the bomb, don't you?" he said and
grinned.

When they had paid for their sandwiches and claimed an empty
table, he explained his earlier comment.

"My mother was diagnosed with colon cancer about eight years
ago, so I spent a lot of time with her at the hospital;' he said. "So
much that a lot of the staff got to know me. I kept telling them I'd
sing for a good meal, and one day, they took me up on the offer"

Melba laughed heartily. "I'm so sorry to hear about your
mother, Troy. But did I just hear you say you sang for hospital
cafeteria food?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I was young and trying to impress
people, okay?"

Rachelle read between the lines. Trying to impress the women,
he meant to say.

"You weren't that young eight years ago," Rachelle teased.
"You're five months older than me, so that would have put you
in your late twenties. Come on, now."

He shook his head. "You ladies win, okay? Let's just eat:"

They munched on their food in silence for a while, but Rachelle
wanted to know more about his mother. "Is your mother okay?"
she asked.

"She's in heaven now, but yes, she's okay," he said.

Rachelle's heart went out to him. She wanted to reach for his
hand, to comfort him, but knew better, especially on Aunt Melba's
watch.

"When she was diagnosed, we moved her to Milwaukee to
live with my brother and his family. He had just been hired as an
assistant principal there and couldn't come back to Dallas;' Troy
said. "I was working for an engineering firm that had an office in
Milwaukee. I asked for a transfer so I could be there to help:'

He looked at Rachelle. "I don't know if you remember my
sister'

Rachelle nodded. "Of course. She was very pretty and very
bright."

"Tania was a mixed-up teenager when all of this was going
on;' he told them. "Before the move and Mom's illness, she really
got off track, had a baby, and dropped out of high school before
graduating"

"Tania?" Rachelle was incredulous.

Troy nodded. "When we moved to Milwaukee, she started
dating some thug and wound up on drugs. She's in prison now,
serving a seven-year sentence for possession of cocaine."

Rachelle gasped. "Not Tania. Troy, I'm so sorry. How did that
happen? She was always so smart and focused when we were
dating. I just knew she was going to do great things"

He fixed his eyes on his half-eaten sandwich. "I think she
struggled without our father and searched for love in the wrong
places. Then Mom got sick, and it was just too much for her. She
couldn't handle it, I guess"

"So Chaundra is her daughter?" Rachelle asked.

Troy nodded. "Yeah. We have no idea where her father is. After
my sister got strung out, he moved on to his next victim.

"Mom had passed away; my brother's wife was diagnosed with
multiple sclerosis and they had three young children; so really,
I was the only logical person to take her and prevent her from
getting lost in the foster-care system. She's thirteen now and I've
had her since she was eight"

Rachelle's eyes widened. "You've been a parent for that long?
By yourself?"

She saw the pride in his eyes, and she understood it. He had
often talked about the hole punched in his heart when his father
abandoned the family.

"With God's grace and wisdom and lots of help from caring
friends, I've been able to do it. That's the only way."

Rachelle reached for his hands. "That's really great of you,
Troy."

He grabbed her hands and held them. Aunt Melba coughed
and warned Rachelle with her eyes.

Rachelle wriggled free from Troy's grip and took another bite
of her sandwich.

On one hand, she felt as if she were being stalked by a middle
school hall monitor. On the other, she knew that was probably
what she needed, especially when it came to Troy.

n southern Uganda, the villagers were thankful. For
everything.

They uttered "Webele nyo!" (Thank you very much!) and "We-
bese Kotanda!" (Thank God!) so frequently that Gabe had become
fluent with the phrases.

He was amazed at how thrilled they were to have Americans
come to their homes. They treated him and the rest of the team
like royalty or long-lost relatives.

He feasted on more mush than he had believed was humanly
possible, but he had no intention of complaining or refusing a
meal. Each bowl of food was made with care and offered with
gratitude by the recipients of his medical expertise. He understood
now why Stevens came every year and why this place and these
people had stolen his friend's heart.

At night, a peaceful quiet descended on the orphanage where
Gabe, Lyle and Chrissa Stevens, and Veronica were staying with
others on the medical mission team.

The team members would find a quiet spot to sit by themselves
and recount the day's events or exchange advice and encouragement. Chrissa would lead the group in songs that she often
performed across Houston with a Christian band.

This evening was no different. Each of the team members shared
details about a particular challenge or success they had experienced hours earlier, including how some of them wound up praying for the people they were also trying to physically help. How
could you not pray for a child who was wasting away because the
lack of antibiotics had caused an infection to spread throughout
the six-year-old's body? Or for the grandmother who was dehydrated and refused to eat so that her daughter and grandchildren
would have enough food to keep them healthy and strong enough
to work?

At some point, the conversation shifted to the team members themselves and how they were faring in an environment
so different from home. That conversation led to one about the
importance of committed relationships, and how what they were
doing in Uganda was modeling for the people they helped how
unconditional love and friendships could blossom despite differences in color, culture, and status.

A few team members kept steering the discussion to romantic
connections.

"I'm no good at them;' Veronica said, and glanced at Gabe. "At
least not long-term ones"

"Why not?" Chrissa asked. "That's usually an answer a man
would give"

Gabe leveled his gaze at Stevens's wife. "Be careful, woman . .

Chrissa laughed. "It's true," she said. "Most guys don't bother
to stick through the hard stuff. They want everything to revolve
around them, to go their way, to make their world easier:" She
looked at her husband. "Dr. Lyle Stevens had that same problem,
until he met a man named Jesus. Thank ya!"

She threw her hands in the air and threw her head back, causing her blond ponytail to flail behind her.

Gabe bellowed with laughter. Chrissa was a sweetheart, but
she needed to give up trying to be hip.

When he had composed himself, he turned to Stevens. "What
really changed you, man?"

Stevens shrugged. "Like she said, I met a man named Jesus.
When I developed a deeper relationship with him, I realized
that when I served and loved my wife, I was serving and loving
him."

Something tugged at Gabe's heart. He had never heard a commitment to God described that way.

"You alright?" Stevens asked.

Gabe nodded. "Yeah;' he said. "That was just deep:"

Veronica's lilting laughter filled the air. She winked at Gabe and
smoothed her loose-fitting linen shirt over her ample chest. She
had left her cosmetics at home, but even just a hint of lipstick and
mascara gave her an exotic look. Gabe knew she wanted him.

The way his wife had been acting, he deserved to be pampered. He craved some attention, but lately, he had desired it
from Rachelle.

Gabe stood and excused himself from the group. He ambled
toward the edge of the orphanage's enclosed terrace. The area
was only partially lit, and he felt less exposed. "Stevens, come
here for a minute?"

Gabe stuck his hands in the pocket of his khaki slacks and
waited. When Stevens joined him, out of the group's earshot,
Gabe asked a question that had been nagging him for several
days, since he had witnessed a Ugandan mother bury her sickly
infant and another woman squeeze the last of her milk out of a
dry breast. The supply of food and water that Gabe and another
team member arrived with had left the second mother delirious
with joy.

"About this loving and serving stuff, how does that work in the
real world?" Gabe asked. He felt awkward asking such a touchy-
feely question, but this was his friend.

Stevens draped an arm across Gabe's shoulder. "You finally
ready to have `The Talk'?" Stevens joked. "It's all tied to God,
man."

Gabe's stomached clinched. This sounded serious. And holierthan-thou.

He knew he wasn't ready for that. But being informed couldn't
hurt. Not any more than he already was at the moment.

ince Aunt Irene's drunk-driving accident had been detailed in the newspaper, it seemed as if everyone in jubilant who knew the family was abuzz with disbelief or contempt.

Four days after the incident, she came home from the hospital.
Though the house was a single-story rancher, she would be confined to a hospital bed that had been ordered by her doctor and
set up in the living room. A physical therapist would visit three
times a week to help her regain her mobility.

The only bright spot Rachelle could find in this situation was
that school was out for the summer. Yasmin and Indigo wouldn't
be forced to face their friends right away. The girls had been hiding out in their rooms and avoiding phone calls since they had
returned home after their outings on the day of Aunt Irene's surgery.
Chaundra seemed to be Indigo's only friend who hadn't changed
with the wind.

Rachelle considered asking her mom to invite the girls to Philadelphia, to share the last three weeks of vacation with Taryn and
Tate.

Then she questioned whether helping them escape would be
teaching them to do what she had done most of her life-run
away from problems. If she stayed in jubilant for a while, and the family surrounded the girls with support, hopefully they would
come through this experience wiser and stronger and better able
to cope with life's challenges.

Rachelle had been rising early each morning to prepare breakfast for the family and make sure Aunt Irene took her medicine
on time. The first time Aunt Irene heard Rachelle bustling in the
kitchen, she protested.

"I want to help;' Rachelle insisted. She had to keep telling her,
until finally Aunt Irene relented, and even made a request.

"If you need something to do then, would you mind sitting
with me in the mornings and reading from the Psalms?" Aunt
Irene asked. "This medicine leaves me too weak to hold onto my
big old Bible."

Rachelle would read aloud as soon as Aunt Irene woke up and
had a cup of coffee.

Because of all that she was facing, from legal woes to disgrace in her church and the community, she told Rachelle the
Psalms, penned by David as he endured his own trials, comforted her.

"Can I hear Psalm 91 again?" she asked this morning.