Reinventing Rachel (22 page)

The mess of laundry was the result of three weeks without a visit to the laundromat. Lately she’d been too tired or preoccupied to deal with it, but she had to do at least one load if she wanted to wear clean clothes tomorrow. The last thing she felt like doing was talking to her mother—to anyone, really, even Jack—but she and her mother hadn’t talked since July. She deserved to know Rachel was at least alive and relatively well.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart! I thought for a minute there I’d be getting your voice-mail again.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” She sank into the couch. “How are you?’

“I’m doing well. How are you?”

She’d never lied to her mother before, but she wasn’t about to tell her the truth. “Fine, fine. It’s getting chilly here these days, I’m looking forward to the first snow.”

“Did you get yourself some nice new things for winter?”

“Yeah, got some sweaters, a new coat.”

“Oh good. Wish I could see them.”

She knew her mother didn’t say it to guilt her, but the words stung anyway. “How about you? It must feel empty, being in the house alone now.”

“Yes, well … about that. That’s one of the reasons I called, actually. Your dad and I are working on reconciliation.”

“What?”

“I mean we’re not getting a divorce.”

“Oh.” Rachel wasn’t sure what to think. “Um ... that’s great. What happened?”

“Well, he came back in mid-August, and he was his old self. He told me he’d started drinking in March, which is why his medication stopped working and he became so unstable. He’d gone from the hospital in Omaha to a rehab facility, and when he came back he was off the alcohol and back on his meds and stable again. He told me he understood if I still wanted the split, but God really hammered home to me while he was gone that I had promised for better or for worse, sickness and health, and I just didn’t think I could go through with it anymore.”

It took Rachel a moment to absorb all the new information. “So … how do you know he’s not going to just start drinking again?”

“Well, the drinking was precipitated by some issues he was having at work, which I didn’t know about. Part of why he left home was because he got laid off, but when he came back Ross Reynolds from church hired him to do the books for his construction company. It’s a much more laid-back place than the firm was, so I think the change will be good for him. Plus, I think the fact that I took the steps I did for the separation scared him into realizing he’d nearly lost his marriage. I don’t think he’d take that chance again.”

Rachel felt genuine gladness, which was, sadly, a foreign feeling for her these days. “That’s really great, Mom. I’m happy for you guys.”

“Thank you. I’m happy for us, too.” After a pause, her mother continued. “I don’t suppose you’d consider coming home now?”

“Like, for a visit?”

“No, for good. Moving back.”

“What—just because you and Dad are getting back together?”

“Well, wasn’t that why you left?”

“One of the reasons, yes. But not the only one.” Irritation pinched her voice. “I really am glad that you guys aren’t splitting up, but you have to understand that I still don’t think of you—either of you—as the people I grew up with. The people I thought you were never would have hidden such an enormous secret from me, or even
talked
about divorce, much less actually get separated. That doesn’t all get deleted just because you changed your mind and think everything is back to normal.”

“Oh.” A long silence deflated some of Rachel’s anger. “I guess I hadn’t thought of it from that perspective.” Her mother’s voice held a hint of embarrassment, and Rachel groaned inside.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, Mom. I didn’t mean to.”

“No, no, my feelings aren’t hurt, exactly.” Rachel heard her mother take a deep breath and sigh. “So anyway … what else ...”

Now’s my chance.
Rachel was scrambling for a good way to end the conversation when her mother asked the question Rachel had been hoping to avoid. “Did you ever decide to look for a church?”

Oh no, here we go.
“Actually, no, I didn’t. I was really mad with God when I came out here, and I really haven’t thought much about him since.”
Until lately, anyway.
Not that she was going to go there right now. “But I’ve met some great people—some Christians, even—and life is really good.” She searched for examples that would prove her life didn’t suck now that she didn’t have God in her corner. “Oh, and I got promoted. I’m a manager now. And I’m dating this great guy, Jack. He’s a total gentleman, you’ll be happy to know. A nice change from Patrick, that’s for sure.”

“Hm. Well, congratulations.” Her tone suggested that the congratulations wasn’t all that heartfelt. “That’s wonderful about the job. And this boyfriend, is it serious?”

“Um, well, I don’t know. We’re just, you know, taking it slow.”

“Well if it turns into a serious relationship I hope the two of you will come out. I’d like to meet him.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, but I don’t think it will get serious.” It was the first time she’d admitted that aloud. A sense of relief washed over her.

They both fell silent, and Rachel wasn’t about to lose another chance to hang up. “Well, I should get going.”

“Oh, yes, okay. Oh—I’ll send you another check this week. Just, you know, in case you find yourself needing some extra cash. Put it in your savings if you don’t want to spend it; I don’t care.”

Rachel frowned. “‘Another’ check? You never sent the first one, right?”

“Sure I did, the day after we spoke, back in July. Then another in August and September.”

“You sent three?”

Her mother tsked. “Hold on, let me look at my check register.” The line was silent for a moment, and Rachel racked her brain as she waited. “No, here it is,” her mother said. “I have it ticked off so it must have been cashed. Same with the ones in August and September.”

“Are you sure you have my address right?” Her mother read off the address of the apartment, and it was indeed correct. “That’s really weird, Mom. I know I didn’t get them. I just assumed you decided not to send the first one since I told you I didn’t need it.”

“Well that’s a disturbing mystery. I’ll call the bank tomorrow and see if I can get it straightened out. And regardless, I’ll send you another one tomorrow.”

Rachel sighed, unwilling to argue about it this time. “Okay, thanks. Nice talking to you.”

“You too, sweetheart. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Rachel set down the phone, suddenly exhausted, and looked back to the mountain of laundry. What small motivation she’d had to tackle it had disappeared, and the job was once again too overwhelming for her to deal with. She stepped over the mess and went to her room to take a nap before her shift.

o

As it turned out, the nap didn’t help. She woke up late and barely made it to work in time. Then, once she was there, she couldn’t seem to keep her focus. It wasn’t that she was thinking of other things. It’s that she could barely think at all.

All she wanted to do was hide in the office. Unfortunately, Leah had called in sick, so Rachel had no choice but to work the front. In her first hour she’d messed up two drink orders and forgotten to wipe down the steamer wand after frothing milk for a latte, a rookie mistake resulting in a backup of drink orders while she scrubbed off the caked-on milk residue. The next two hours after that were no better, and by the time her meal break was over, she was ready to go home.

Then, as if things weren’t bad enough, Declan came back.

“Rachel, hey,” he said as he approached the counter. “I thought Leah was working today. No?”

“Hi, Declan. Sorry—she’s home sick. Stomach bug, I think.”

“Ah, pity. I thought she looked a bit poorly when I saw her in class this morning.” He cocked his head. “You’re looking a bit poorly yourself. Are you not well?”

Why did the question make her want to cry? “I’m just preoccupied, that’s all. What can I get you?”

“How about a hot chocolate. It’s one of those days out there.”

She pulled a hot drink cup from the stack and the entire stack fell to the floor. She cursed under her breath and cleaned them up with fumbling hands. “Sorry, just give me a minute.”

“No worries.”

She carried the now-sullied cups to the back room and dumped them in a trash can, then grabbed a new stack to bring to the front. “My reflexes aren’t the fastest today,” she said as she carefully pulled the top cup from the stack and went to work on his drink. “Thanks for your patience.”

“Of course, it’s not a problem, really. I’m sorry you’re having a bad day.”

Try a bad month.
“It happens,” she said, trying to blow it off as she mixed the hot chocolate powder with the steamed milk. But when she tried to push the lid onto the cup, she spilled the entire thing on the counter. Gaping like an idiot at her mistake, she grabbed a towel and threw it over the spill. “I feel like a total idiot. What did I just do?”

Declan smiled, his eyes kind. “I’ve done that before. Those lids can be tricky.”

“You’d think doing hundreds of them a week would make me an expert.” She kept her eyes down to hide the tears that were forming.

“Everyone misses now and then, right? Being a pro doesn’t make you perfect.”

His sympathy just made it worse. She grabbed another cup and made the drink again, positioning herself behind the espresso machine while she blinked away the tears and sniffed. With exaggerated caution she snapped on its lid and slid it across the counter to Declan. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, Rachel.” He handed her his cash. “I don’t suppose you’re going on break soon?”

“No, but if it stays slow I might.”

“No offense, but you look like you need it.”

“Heh. Seriously.” She handed him his change and watched him walk to his table as she considered his question.
Was that an invitation? Or just friendly concern since I look like crap?

She served a few more customers, then went to the back to do some office work when Brian came on shift. But she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t shake the fog that hampered her common sense, and finally just gave up.

She told herself it wasn’t specifically Declan that she wanted to talk with, but just that she was frustrated and wanted to vent to
someone
. She told herself that, if Jack were on shift, she’d want to talk to him instead.
How worried should I be that I’m lying to myself now?

She wandered back out to the front, saw that Brian was serving the only customer currently at the register, and decided that taking a break would not be a bad idea.

“Your timing is impeccable,” Declan said with a smile.

“Tertullian again?”

“No, Kierkegaard. Different class.” He stood and pulled out a chair for her. “Can you sit a while?”

“A few minutes, sure.” She sat down and glanced at his textbook. “So what class is it?”

“Philosophy 301. I’m not doing very well.”

“I won’t keep you from studying for too long, then.”

“I’d much rather talk than read. I’m far more relational than I am academic.”

“Well, I’m not the most relational person these days, so don’t get your hopes up too much.”

He shoved his books aside and folded his arms on the table, bringing himself close enough that she could smell the cologne he wore. “And why is that?”

She batted away the answer with a half-hearted wave of her hand. “You don’t want to hear a virtual stranger venting her issues.”

“Sure I do! I’m relational, remember? Talking with people and helping them process their problems is one of my favorite things to do.”

“Well, processing is not my strong suit these days, so I suppose I’d be an idiot to turn down an offer.” She took a deep breath, rubbed a hand nervously against her arm as though cold. “I feel like my life is falling apart.”
Way to be blunt.
“Every single important relationship in my life is broken in one way or another. Some of it is my fault, some of it isn’t, some of it is just … mutual dysfunction, I suppose. But the whole reason I came out here from California is because all my important relationships out there fell apart too. I’m starting to feel cursed. Or maybe I’m just the common denominator.” Her embarrassment at baring her soul to someone she barely knew was overshadowed by her need to unburden herself and be heard by someone outside of all her problems. “I can’t shake this feeling that something bad is going to happen, like I’m on the edge of a cliff but can’t see over the edge to tell how far down it is. There’s a constant shadow over me.” Her voice began to quaver, and she swiped away tears that formed on her lashes.
Oh please do
not
start crying in front of him.
“I don’t know who to go to for advice anymore. Everyone’s way of thinking is so different from how I was raised to think. But I don’t know anymore what I think about the way I used to think.” She chuckled and used the levity as an opportunity to compose herself. “Am I making any sense at all?”