Love In a Distant Land: Rachel Marie Series Book One

by David B. Smith

  “That’s really awesome.” Bucky shook his head. “Here you were working at a Christian school for, what, four years? And all of a sudden, God figures out how to bring you into his family.”

  “Yes.” Khemkaeng’s eyes were suddenly sober. “Mostly because of Rachel Marie.” He leaned across the aisle and patted her knee.

  A man in a regulation blue suit reeking of cigarette smoke came down the aisle offering to make up their beds. “Are you ready?” Khemkaeng asked Bucky.

  “Yeah. We’re still a bit jet-lagged, so we better get whatever sleep we can.”

  Releasing a latch, the night porter pulled the upper bunks free and efficiently unfolded the bed pads, tucking a clean sheet around each one. While Lisa and Rachel Marie huddled in the aisle, he then lowered the collapsing table stand separating the facing blue seats, pulled out the connecting slats, and made the lower berth beds as well. In less than three minutes, four fluffy pillows were in place, offering a cozy sanctuary for the weary travelers.

  “That’s amazing.” Lisa stifled a yawn. “Sweetie, you’re going to have to climb up top ‘cause me and my gestating tummy are sleeping down here.”

  “Well, I have to sleep up there,” he responded with a straight face, “since that’s the same berth I had when I rode this train before. In fact, I think I still have a Spiderman comic book stuck up there under the pillow.”

  “Oh, stop it!” Lisa flicked his forearm. “You’re impossible.”

  Khemkaeng sidled over and gave Rachel Marie a chaste peck on her cheek. “Sleep well.”

  “All right, sweet Thai man.” She grinned. To have him spending the night just a few feet away from her berth gave her a nice tingle, and she noticed Bucky’s teasing look. “And you . . . mind your own business.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” A moment of male bonding passed between the two guys before Bucky slipped off his shoes and puffed up the small metal ladder to the berth above his wife.

  Stops were few and far between now, and Rachel Marie curled up under the coarse white bed sheet, reading a chapter from the Psalms by the tiny nightlight glowing in the lower berth. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? Did her heavenly Father truly know that his beloved child was on a train in the inky interior of this Asian kingdom? And that she was traveling toward a rendezvous with a Thai family that might someday make her their daughter? Was her God that intimately concerned with her place in this faraway planet, and with where she might spend the rest of her life?

  Rachel Marie sighed contentedly and switched off the tiny light, tucking the Bible into the small woven netting above her pillow. The clickety-clack of the journey seemed like a reminder of innocent children’s stories and she smiled, remembering the warmth of Mom’s lap and the rocking chair during family worship, while her big brother fretted over missing his ball game on TV. The green curtain afforded her an intimate hideout of privacy, and she lay back and peered out into the moon-drenched forests, now a blanket of stillness.

  It seemed curious now to be abruptly in a foursome where her Khemkaeng was the odd one out. The moment Bucky and Lisa landed at Suvarnabhumi Airport, it was as though a volleyball team had suddenly lost its serve, with the advantage shifting to the opposing squad. Now it was the three Stones versus an Asian gentleman with a long name. Three cocksure ambassadors from the U.S.A. bantering with a slightly dazed Bangkok man gamely trying to hold his own on the visitors’ side. Of course, her relationship with Khemkaeng wasn’t a competition. And yet, after several months of always being an outsider, of trying to please and impress, worrying about cultural missteps, she empathized with how Khemkaeng must be feeling in the berth just above her. Poor baby . . .

  With a sudden prick of awareness, Rachel Marie realized that in a few short hours the tables would turn yet again. She would sit at the dinner table in Khemkaeng’s childhood home. She would be on display, even on trial. The man she loved would introduce her, explain her, no doubt make excuses for her many faux pas. She would be the one who wouldn’t comprehend the language, the inside references, the winks and unspoken volumes shared through eye contact behind her back.

  The train slowed to a crawl as it crept through a nearly abandoned rural station. A digital sign outside the small outpost showed it was seven minutes past midnight, and the platform was bare except for a guard who dozed, standing up, against the door frame. Rachel Marie could barely make out the long white sign with Thai and English lettering–some town beginning with the letter R.

  She thought again of the shifting emotional uncertainties that came with being a guest in your newly chosen family. In college, Rachel Marie had endured vacations in the homes of boyfriends. She tried now to imagine Christmas dinners or Fourth of July parties where you sat at a table, making small talk with reluctant but civil people who had consented to be your in-laws. There would always be edgy ripples of anxiety, of foreign feelings. That came with the territory, with Ruth’s biblical axiom: Where you go, I shall go. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God.

  But this Thai train, and this traveling foursome, with its dominant seventy-five percent Stone advantage, was relentlessly taking them into the very bosom of her Thai boyfriend’s world, his soul and essence. I’m going to meet the parents! Rachel Marie felt a sudden attack of near-terror. Linking her life with Khemkaeng would involve not ripples but crashing waves.

  For the first time ever, in a hoarse whisper, she tried out the name: “Rachel Marie Chaisurivirat. Mrs. Chaisurivirat. And now, it is my privilege to proudly introduce to you–for the first time–Mr. and Mrs. Khemkaeng Chaisurivirat.” She tried to imagine school kids back in Glendale, goggle-eyed and then uncontrollably giggling, as she wrote her new name on the board and then turned to face them.

  A tall clump of palm trees, their slender trunks haphazardly groping for the sky, momentarily blocked out the moonlight. Rachel Marie’s tiny berth, now in the darkness of her renewed doubts, blinked into black. But hope seeped back into her soul as the moonlight returned. The weight of a new name, and the intimidation of having potential in-laws whose home was in the exotic faraway world of Chiang Mai, was nothing compared with the affirming power of her God. Men and women from the strangest corners of the world met and forged loving Christian marriages all the time. She and her Khemkaeng could do the same, if her Father in heaven so led. He’s able, he’s able, I know he is able.

  The soft rhythm of the tracks finally lulled her to sleep.

  * * *

  “Hey hey. Want some breakfast, R.M.?” Bucky’s face appeared in the tiny sliver between the green curtain and the fasteners on the wall. “Are you decent?”

  “Uh huh.” Rachel Marie rubbed her eyes. “Wow. I guess I really did sleep.” Her watch said it was almost seven.

  “We’re getting eggs and toast. Want some?”

  “Sure.”

  She slipped on her flip-flops and ran her fingers through her hair. Khemkaeng would be seeing her at her rattiest, but it had to happen sometime.

  “How did you sleep?” Even her immaculate friend had a somewhat rumpled head of hair, and appeared self-conscious about it.

  “Good.” Rachel Marie smiled up at him. “You?”

  “Yes, all right.”

  A steward arrived with four plastic plates, laden with white toast and very runny eggs. Rachel Marie felt her stomach lurch.

  “Hmm.” Bucky scowled at the sopping yellow mess. “I think they have the same cook as fifteen years ago. I remember the eggs were way gooey then too.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say anything?” Lisa got up on tiptoes and gave her husband a teasing kiss. “I don’t like over easy either.”

  “We can request them to do it again.” Khemkaeng, already eating his, had a pained look.

  “Nah. It’s cool.” Bucky punctured one of the soft yolks and pushed the yellow swamp over to the side.

  Rachel Marie gave Khemkaeng an affectionate squeeze. “How soon do we get to Chiang Mai?”

  “One hour.�
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  * * *

  The northern train terminal was much smaller than Hua Lamphong, Bangkok’s frenzied central hub, but there were still hotel touts and limo drivers thronging around as the quartet disembarked.

  “Over there!” Khemkaeng waved to his parents, who were approaching with cautious smiles.

  Bucky was the first to offer their hosts a wai, grinning as he said hello in the native language. Rachel Marie and Lisa followed suit as Khemkaeng introduced them. “And this is my mother and father.”

  “We are very pleased to meet you,” the older man said. “My name is Aroon, and this is my wife Pakpao.” He was shorter than his son, but had the same precise manner and immaculate haircut. “Welcome to Chiang Mai.”

  He slipped into his native Thai as he asked Khemkaeng a question. They discussed briefly before Khemkaeng turned back to the three American visitors. “We have a good hotel selected for you to stay in,” he explained apologetically. “I wish we could host you at our family house, but it is really quite small. This hotel is comfortable and also close to where we live. Is this okay?”

  “Sure.” Bucky nodded affably. “So what’s up for today?”

  Khemkaeng picked up his bag and motioned toward the exit. “Maybe get settled for just a bit. Perhaps the ladies will like to sleep another hour or so.” He glanced at his watch. “Let me go home with my family and have a brief visit. At noon I will come over and we can eat and then see the sights of Chiang Mai.”

  “Perfect.” Rachel Marie, suddenly feeling tentative with the parents eyeing her, tried to force herself to relax. “I could use a tiny nap.”

  Borrowing his parents’ car, he quickly ferried his American guests to the nearby Mercure Chiang Mai Hotel. “I am sorry our home is not larger,” he apologized again. “But maybe too much visiting of a strange family is not easy.”

  “It’ll be fine.” She leaned over and nuzzled his shoulder. “They seem very nice.”

  With just a few words to the clerk at the front desk, Khemkaeng handed Bucky a key. “Even though it is early, they say you can check in now. No problem.” He pointed to a nearby restaurant. “Breakfast is included, and it is a buffet with many western recipes.” He smiled at Lisa, who was yawning. “To make up for the bad eggs on the train.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Khemkaeng hesitated, then asked Rachel Marie. “Did you wish to have your own room, or stay with your brother and wife?”

  Startled, Rachel Marie sidled over to Bucky. “I didn’t even think about it. What do you guys think?”

  “Oh, just come stay with us. We’re only here for a few days and want to have all the time together that we can.” He turned to Lisa. “I mean, what do you think, sweetie?”

  “The room has two beds?”

  “Oh, yes,” Khemkaeng assured her. “Very comfortable.”

  “Let’s do that then.”

  Khemkaeng said goodbye and slipped out to the parking lot. The three visitors rolled their bags to the elevator and trundled down the fourth floor hallway until they found their room. It had a pale green designer motif, with two beds that had sheets very tightly tucked in according to the Asian style.

  Even with the slightly cooler December temperatures and Chiang Mai’s moderate climate, it was a bit stuffy in the room. “Watch this,” Bucky boasted. Taking the bulky room key, he slid the plastic strip into a small slot near the door. Immediately an air conditioner began to hum. “I still remember that trick from last time. One of the teachers taught me.”

  Rachel Marie kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the nearest bed. “Well, let’s cut to the chase,” she laughed. “Now that we got rid of Khemkaeng, what do you guys think of him? Quick, let’s talk behind his back.”

  “He’s great,” Lisa observed. “I mean, it takes getting used to the fact that he’s a bit quieter than some. But in terms of . . . nice guy, looks great, Christian, treats you well–he’s five stars. What’s not to like?”

  “I know.” Seeking additional reassurance, she twisted around on the bed to face her older brother. “What do you think?”

  Bucky pulled a chair out from the small desk separating the two beds and straddled it. “Hey. My rule’s a simple one. ‘Does he make you happy?’ If a man loves the Lord and if he makes my little sister happy, then I’ll vote yes. Absolutely.”

  Lisa sat down next to her. “Do you really feel like he could be the guy? Could you actually say ‘I do’ to a man from”–she gestured around the room–“Chiang Mai, Thailand?” She laughed. “I mean, look, this could end up being your home town. Are you okay with that?”

  Rachel Marie grew silent. That was the core question, really. Khemkaeng had everything she wanted in a man. Their relationship was comfortable but also pleasantly exciting. There was never a cross word or a hint of unpleasantness between them. Of course, she conceded, they were still in the early stages of a courtship. But it was easy to see things blossoming and reaching the point where they might permanently join their hearts together.

  And that meant Thailand. Could this strange, humid, beautiful land become her home? Could she spend, not ten months, but ten or twenty or fifty years making a home in Bangkok with a Thai man? Could roads like Sukhumvit and beaches like Hua Hin and malls like MBK and food like rice–and weather like purgatory–become the staples of her life?

  “I don’t know,” she said, suddenly anxious. “Yeah, I could live here. I love Khemkaeng and I love teaching at BCS. But that means that you guys are a million miles away. Mom and Dad are clear around on the other side of the globe. My entire . . . world would switch. I can’t comprehend the idea of not living in America.”

  “Yeah.” Bucky’s face was sober. “It’s one thing to be here for a while, ‘cause you always know that you’re resuming your regular life soon. The minute you get here, there’s a kind of internal clock counting down until you go back to the routine you knew before. If you marry Khemkaeng, then I guess you have to face the possibility of turning it all upside-down and making this your home.”

  “Or he comes to America with you,” Lisa suddenly put in. “Why couldn’t it go that way instead?”

  “I don’t know.” Something indefinable inside Rachel Marie seemed to reject the idea out of hand. “It sure seems like this is his world, and he’s going to stay in it. I mean, we’ve honestly never talked about it, but I just can’t imagine him trading in all he’s got to come back to California with me. Plus with him now being a Christian, hey, Khemkaeng’s the biggest superstar the school’s got.”

  Bucky traced a lazy pattern on the carpeting with his big toe. “Well,” he said at last, “the good news is that he’s a very fine option. He’s an outstanding man and he’s definitely a Christian for keeps. If he weren’t those two things, then you wouldn’t even have something to think about. I mean, he really is a pleasant dilemma. So let’s thank God for that.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  He came over and gave Rachel Marie a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m really happy for you. And you know? You just keep on trusting God. He rules some things out; he brings other things in. When Khemkaeng committed his life to Jesus, then, hey, that’s when he became a possibility. If you ever were to hear that Adrian did that too–not likely, but who knows–I guess at that point he could conceivably be a possibility again. But for now, focus on trying to get this Thai guy to like you a little bit.”

  “Oh, that’s rich,” Lisa snorted, almost falling over on the other bed. “He’s about as ga-ga as a man can get.”

  “What do you mean?” Rachel Marie, pleasantly pleased, still had to ask.

  “I mean, he’s staring at you constantly. He’s mad for you. True, he’s kind of laid back and even–I don’t know–a bit standoffish. ‘Cause that’s just his way. But trust me, dearie. That guy is totally sold, heart melted, sailed down the river, everything.”

  “Well, in that case,” she laughed, hopping off the bed, “let’s sneak over to that buffet and pork out. Seeing as how I don’t have
to watch my figure anymore.”

  They enjoyed a leisurely forty-five minutes in the dining hall, sampling various tropical fruits mixed in with staples like corn flakes and potatoes flavored with fiery bits of red pepper. “This is a nice fringe benefit–free breakfast.” Bucky grinned as he popped a cube of orange papaya in his mouth.

  The rich pastries brought a sudden memory back to Rachel Marie. “Did I tell you guys what Khemkaeng did for me?”

  “Huh uh.” Lisa scraped the last bite out of her bowl of oatmeal. “What?”

  “Well, the day he announced to our whole school he’d become a Christian, I took him out to eat at the Mandarin Oriental.”

  “Best hotel in Asia,” Bucky added as an aside.

  “Yeah. Only I didn’t know what a black-tie place it really was. I mean, the food there–all French cuisine–was just melt-in-your-mouth. I never had such an unbelievable meal before.”

  “And . . .” Lisa leaned forward, curious.

  “Okay. Well, I said it was my treat. So when we’re done they bring me the bill and it’s 1,650 baht. Which works out to around fifty bucks. A lot of money, but for all the caviar in that place, and the white piano in the lobby, and the pastries . . . I mean, it wasn’t bad at all.”

  “So what’s that got to do with your lovestruck boyfriend?” Bucky put a quivering glob of strawberry jelly on his toast.

  “Well, he drops me off at the apartment, and I’m thinking to myself, ‘It sure seemed like the prices on the menu were higher.’ So the next Monday, back at the school, I go online and I finally stumble onto the web site for Le Normandie. I figure out as best I can what we had, and what it would be for two people. And guess what? It was two thousand, six hundred fifty baht. Exactly. The bill they gave me was off by a thousand.”

  Lisa looked confused. “I don’t get it. So they messed up by a thousand baht. You just got lucky.”

  Rachel Marie slowly shook her head. “I don’t think so. Right after we got there and were trying to decipher the menu, Khemkaeng and the waitress got into this long thing–all in Thai–like, ‘What’s good to eat here?’”