The Someday List

by Stacy Adams

  “Nothing I can say to you right now will change how furious you must be at me for the pain I’ve caused and for the fear I put in your heart on the day of the accident,” she began. “You heard me in courtroom—I lost a child of my own. I wouldn’t wish that anguish on my worst enemy.

  “I’m really sorry for hurting you and your baby with my selfish actions,” Aunt Irene said. “What I did was wrong. If I had not been drinking and driving, your child wouldn’t have a cast on his arm and leg, and he wouldn’t have had to suffer pain and fear, and who knows what else. I am so very sorry, and I hope that someday, you and your baby can forgive me.”

  “Talk is cheap, you know,” the mother said. “I hope you really meant what you told the judge, that you’ll get some help. Next time around you won’t be so lucky.”

  “I meant it, and with God’s help, I will honor that promise,” Aunt Irene said “I can also promise you that I won’t ever forget what I’ve done, or this conversation. My husband and I have already talked to our insurance company. They haven’t told us yet how they plan to handle the claim you’ve filed, but we’ve told them that we don’t want to battle you. If whatever is settled on is fair, it’s fair.”

  Rachelle recognized the wariness that filled the father’s face. It had draped her own often enough in her exchanges with her husband.

  “Thank you. That means a lot,” he said. “My wife may not be able to forgive you today, and I don’t know that I can either, but we got a place to start. And we don’t want your money—we want you to keep your word. Don’t wind up here again, hurting somebody else.”

  His response left Aunt Irene reeling.

  Rachelle approached her quickly and began steering her away, back to the family, before Aunt Irene lost her composure.

  The man pulled his wife away and rubbed her shoulders as they walked down the narrow corridor, toward the courthouse exit.

  Before they turned a corner that led to an escalator, the mother paused and called out to Aunt Irene. “I can’t do it today, but I’m going to pray about forgiving you. Please, just do what you said. I gave my son your letter, and I want to believe it’s the truth.”

  With that, they were gone.

  Aunt Irene turned to Rachelle and wept in her arms.

  “Thank you, God,” she uttered softly, when her tears finally abated. “You gave me a chance to ask for forgiveness and to help that family heal. Thank you, God.”

  The family filed quietly out of the courthouse behind Aunt Irene and Uncle Charles. Rachelle’s heart was full of questions and emotions.

  She didn’t know what to make of what had transpired this morning—in the courtroom or afterward. She marveled at how graciously her aunt had handled her sentence and her encounter with her victims.

  If this was what growing in God’s grace could achieve, she needed to pick up her pace.

  39

  Daddy was flying home tonight, just two days after his arrival, and Rachelle was glad they had this brief time alone.

  She needed to talk with someone about the volcano churning inside of her, from questions about her husband’s supposed infidelity to her unresolved anger at the role her parents played in the death of her marriage to Troy.

  This evening, over dessert at a local café, Rachelle tried to keep it real. Over the summer, she had grown impatient with social niceties that only served to maintain artificial boundaries and relationships. She was realizing that only the truth allowed a person to have deep and authentic connections.

  Life was messy—Aunt Irene’s situation had proven that. But in taking responsibility for her actions, her aunt had opened the door for healing with her family and with her victim’s parents, and she had made peace with the fact that she couldn’t recover by herself. She needed help.

  So did Rachelle, especially from her father.

  She told him about her visit with Jillian and her struggle since that time to sort things out.

  “So you’re having an early life crisis?” he asked, sounding very much like Gabe.

  Rachelle sighed. “Call it what you want, Daddy. Maybe I’m finally facing the truth about myself and about the way I’ve lived my life—mostly to please others, including you and Mom.”

  Herbert’s eyes widened. “Where’s all this coming from?”

  She shrugged. “I won’t get into all of it tonight, but I’m wrestling with a lot of things, Daddy. I’m angry at how my marriage to Troy ended, and I feel like I was pressured into leaving him by you and Mom. That wasn’t right.”

  He sat back in his wooden seat and folded his arms. Rachelle could tell he wasn’t angry, just surprised.

  “Okay. Why is this the first time I’m hearing this?”

  “Because I’ve never had the courage to tell you before.”

  “What else is there?”

  Rachelle took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “I believe Gabe is cheating on me, with one of his nurses, and I’m not sure what to do.”

  This one made Daddy angry. “That no good—”

  Rachelle raised her palm to silence him. “Wait a minute now, this is the man you and Mom chose for me, remember?”

  Her father leaned onto the table and glared at her. “We may have considered him the best match for you as a husband, but that didn’t give him free rein to treat you like nothing.”

  “So you think I should leave him?”

  That question cooled his fire. “Take it slow, Rachelle. I’m angry because I’m your father, and I don’t want to see anybody hurt you. But I don’t know all that goes on in your house. Is he putting his hands on you?”

  Rachelle shook her head.

  “Alright, as long as he’s not hitting you or abusing you in some way, you’ve got to look inside and figure out whether this marriage is worth saving. He seems like a good man to me, but I don’t live in Houston. I see him at his best whenever we’re together. You just be assured that whatever issues you have with me and your mother, we love you. We are here for you, and you are never trapped in a situation you can’t leave and survive.”

  Rachelle left her seat and went around the table to hug him.

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “You’re welcome, baby.”

  If Jillian and Aunt Irene were right, that God’s love was deeper and wider than that of any earthly father’s, she was going to be more than okay.

  40

  Each time she heard the words “Dr. Covington” used in reference to her, Rachelle did a double-take. In her world, that had always been Gabe, heart surgeon extraordinaire.

  But since she had begun volunteering at Cynthia’s clinic, she too had earned the right to be called by her professional title.

  “The state allows me to renew my license every year as a non-practicing optometrist, but I can’t officially practice until I obtain sixteen hours of continuing education credits,” Rachelle told Cynthia over lunch. She had come to the clinic with Aunt Irene for a few hours today.

  Aunt Irene loved reading to the children, and those who were repeat visitors now expected to find her there, waiting with a new book, just for them. Rachelle hadn’t been as busy, because not everyone needed eye exams.

  When she wasn’t assisting with that task, she often sat outside the pediatric exam rooms and watched Cynthia work. Cynthia was masterful at putting her young patients at ease and making the parents feel as if they were doing the most important thing in the world by bringing their children in for regular checkups.

  “Do you see this mother?” Cynthia would turn to Rachelle on occasion and say. “Do you see that she brought her son in here for his immunizations so he could start school on time? She values education and health!”

  In Rachelle’s world, taking children to the doctor for minor aches and pains was as common as seeking help for a high fever or other serious ailment. It was foreign to her that some children would miss the first two weeks of school because their parents hadn’t gotten around to taking them to the doctor or to a clinic for routine shot
s.

  Rachelle hadn’t considered that making sure babies had enough formula might be secondary to keeping them in Pampers. Cynthia regularly sent new mothers away with a bag of diapers, or a case of formula, and the advice not to stretch it with water every time.

  “This is the next best thing to breast milk, and your baby needs all of it to grow,” she told them.

  Today, over lunch, Cynthia had a To Do list in front of her.

  “Since you’re going home soon, I want to make sure you keep using your skills,” Cynthia said. “I called my friend Vikki in Houston and she’s ready to receive you as a volunteer in her pediatric practice until you’re fully licensed and ready to move on.”

  Rachelle’s eyes widened. “You did that for me?”

  Cynthia waved it off. “We’ve got to help each other out. And I’m really glad that you’re doing something for yourself. You deserve it, and your kids will be proud of you.”

  But would Gabe? That was the big question. If Veronica’s accusations were true and she decided to stay with him, he was probably going to want to continue living life on his terms.

  Rachelle reviewed Dr. Vikki Harris’s phone number and address. Her practice was located near the rough part of the city, probably with a clientele similar to Cynthia’s. Rachelle wanted to help. Gabe would have to get over it.

  Rachelle smiled, but inside, she felt butterflies. So much had happened over the past few days. Major stuff. And yet, she felt lighter, like boulders had been lifted from her shoulders.

  When she had shared that analogy with Aunt Irene today, on the way to their volunteer session, Aunt Irene had understood.

  “That’s exactly what is happening, baby,” she had said. “You’ve given your troubles to the Lord. Isn’t it amazing?”

  Rachelle sat back now and gazed out of the window in Cynthia’s small lunchroom. Life was amazing. Even with all of the unanswered questions, mistakes, and missteps, it was worth living fully, like Jillian said.

  Before she could take another bite of her sandwich, her cell phone rang. Gabe was calling again. She looked up at Cynthia, hoping her eyes didn’t reveal her exasperation. “It’s my husband.”

  Cynthia wiped her mouth with a napkin and stood up so she could get back to work. “Take your time with your call. Your husband is a priority too.”

  She left and closed the door behind her.

  “Too” was the key word.

  Rachelle was learning that life and love didn’t have to be all or nothing. There were ups and downs, twists and turns, missteps and self-corrections all the time. Even people of faith had setbacks. Aunt Irene would pay a price for her choices, yet she still trusted God to see her through.

  Rachelle was learning to keep moving forward, to keep trying to get it right. That’s all that Jillian had meant. She didn’t know what would happen long term, but she had decided that she needed to fight for this marriage long enough to determine whether there was something there worth saving. She owed that much to God and to her children.

  First, though, she wanted to tell Gabe. He might have different plans altogether. When she answered the call, he spoke first.

  “Thanks for picking up,” he said. “I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m on my way home.”

  “Really?” Rachelle asked.

  “I’ve made it to London,” he said. “We have a layover at Heath-row Airport for a few more hours and I’ll be in Houston tomorrow night. I have a lot to apologize for and a lot to tell you about, Rachelle.”

  He hesitated, and she knew what he wanted to ask—would she be there when he arrived?

  Truthfully, she didn’t have her feelings all sorted out. She didn’t know that she loved him like she should. But like Jillian predicted, the more she learned of God, the more her heart seemed to blossom. She was willing to go home and figure it out.

  “I’ll be there, Gabe,” she said.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Let me warn you about something though: you won’t be coming home to the man you left. I think that’s a good thing.”

  Rachelle appreciated the olive branch. God could make all things new. “I’m a work in progress too, Gabe. I guess we have a lot to talk about.”

  “And a lot to forgive,” he said. “At least I hope you will. I’ve been wrong and I don’t deserve you, but I hope you’ll give me a chance to make things better.”

  Rachelle didn’t reply.

  “I understand,” he said. “I’ll be thankful to see you when I get home.”

  When Rachelle and Aunt Irene left the pediatric office that afternoon, they stopped by a local stationery store. Aunt Irene sat in a motorized cart and shopped for greeting cards.

  Rachelle found an aisle filled with journals and perused them until she stumbled upon the perfect one for her Top Ten Things to Do list. The bound book featured a cover illustration of a single yellow rose in a field of dandelions and the phrase, “Give your dreams to God. Who knows where He’ll plant them?”

  Later that night, when everyone had gone to sleep and she had settled into Reuben’s twin bed for the last time, Rachelle pulled out the journal and wrote Ten Things to Do by the Time I’m 50 in bold, cursive strokes at the top of the first page.

  She still didn’t have goals for all ten slots, and that was okay. She now realized that for her, discovering what they should be was part of her purpose.

  Rachelle did have the first four, however, and she jotted them down in an order that surprised her.

  1. Get to know God and become his friend

  2. Discover who Rachelle is and love her unconditionally

  3. Get to know my husband and fall in love with him

  4. Practice optometry three times a week in my own or another thriving practice

  That seemed like a full plate, for someone just starting out.

  She glanced at her cell phone. It was eight o’clock in San Diego—too late to call her dear friend Jillian, who seemed to be defying the doctor’s predictions and holding on to life a few weeks longer. Maybe she would survive longer than any of them believed possible. Rachelle decided to ask Jillian if that was something she should be praying for.

  She thought back to a few weeks ago, when she first tried to embrace Jillian’s challenge: Be happy. Live fully. Love God.

  Now that she was developing a relationship with the Creator, she realized she’d been seeking in the wrong order.

  To achieve the goals on her to-do list—in her marriage and in every other facet of her life—she needed to flip the script: Love God. Live fully. Be happy.

  Since Gabe was now in a country with regular cell phone capabilities, Rachelle sent him a text.

  What do you think about someday supporting an optometry practice?

  Minutes later she received a reply:

  How do you feel about regular mission trips to Uganda—Dr.Covington?

  Her heart did that strange flip-flop that defied description, but equaled hope and excitement. She smiled as she drifted to sleep and thought about the response she sent to her husband.

  They had a lot of work to do to repair their marriage, but if he was willing to try, so was she. She was ready to join his and God’s team.

  The Someday List

  Discussion Questions

  1. Did you understand Rachelle’s lingering regret over her long-ago choices?

  2. Would having a relationship with God have made accepting these choices any easier?

  3. Why was it so hard for Rachelle to craft a list of personal goals?

  4. What could she have done to avoid losing herself and still be a good wife and mother?

  5. Did Rachelle handle her repeated encounters with Troy appropriately?

  6. Did you agree with the advice Rachelle’s friends and family gave her regarding her feelings about Gabe? About Troy?

  7. Did Gabe’s friend, Lyle Stevens, mentor him appropriately?

  8. What was most effective in helping Gabe see his flaws and transform? Was his about-face realistic?

&nbs
p; 9. What purpose did Aunt Irene’s character serve?

  10. Did you agree with how her issues were resolved?

  11. Did Rachelle make the right choice regarding her marriage?

  12. Did you agree with how she resolved her issues with Troy?

  13. What was the primary thing Rachelle had to give up in order to complete her list?

  14. Which character resonated with you most and why?

  15. Based on what you’ve learned from these characters, do you believe second chances are possible?

  – Coming July 2009 –

  Worth a

  Thousand Words

  Book Two in the

  Jub i l a n t Sou l Series

  1

  Indigo Burns rested her elbows on the balcony railing and scanned the crowd that had gathered in the courtyard below to celebrate her achievement and her brief homecoming. “Brief” if that’s what one could call the next twelve weeks. In a town the size of Jubilant, three months could feel like twenty, especially after being away for four years and expanding your mind, pursuing your dreams, and falling in love.

  Indigo wasn’t arrogant—far from it, everyone who knew her well agreed. Instead, she was sure that she had been born to walk a certain path and confident that as long as she had faith, worked hard, and stayed focused, she would succeed.

  This afternoon, she leaned to her right and rested her head on Brian’s broad shoulder. Without consulting one another, each had come to the party wearing tan linen outfits and brown leather sandals, although his shoes were flat and hers bore two-inch heels.

  “This day is perfect,” she said, surveying the colorful variety of flowers that bathed the grounds of Jubilant Botanical Gardens. “I feel like God is giving me a thumbs-up and sealing it with a kiss.”

  Brian tweaked her nose with his thumb and forefinger.

  ‘Then I guess you don’t need mine, huh?”

  She chuckled and raised her head so his lips could easily reach hers.

  Brian delivered the smooch with a smile and she returned the gesture.