The Night That Changed Rachel (The Randalls Book 2)

by Gail Haris

  “Hey, Bexley,” I answer.

  “What’s wrong, Chicka?”

  “Everything. Life. I’m so tired.”

  Bexley’s laughter fills my ear. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  “I just cleaned poo off of me. Don’t tell me I’m dramatic.”

  “Awe. But as long as it was Ella’s and not Trent’s, I think you’re okay.”

  “Well, if you think hers doesn’t stink, I’d be more than happy to allow you to change some diapers and prove you wrong.”

  I notice the time on my phone and sigh. Bexley must’ve heard because she asks, “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, I completely missed a test. I just don’t think I can do this. I thought I could. Maybe when Ella is older, I can try again.”

  “What? Is that defeat I hear? No. Oh, hell no. I guess we’ve been apart too long, and I need to come down there to give you a reminder. When you signed up to be my friend, you don’t get to give up on anything. I won’t let you. Now, stop being a little bitch, and be the badass I know you are.”

  “Bex, did you hear the part where I missed the test?”

  “You missed a test. You might fail a paper. You might completely bomb this semester, but guess what? You’re not going to quit. Tell me what happened.”

  I sigh, and I hear her groan. I smile and give her the cliff notes of my day. “Now the test is going to end in thirty minutes.”

  “Excuse me. You’ve been sitting hear bitching and whining when you could’ve been taking this test, that you missed, but didn’t actually!”

  “Trent’s not home…”

  “Do you need him to hold your fucking hand? Is Ella asleep?”

  “She might wake up if I lay her down.”

  “And she might not. Put down your baby, so she can get some rest, and go take your test. I don’t care if you only have five minutes left, at least answer one question. Expect me, soon, because somebody has got to get you back in line. Don’t you ever let me hear you wallowing and talking about giving up again. Fail your test with some dignity, at least, then pour a glass of wine, have a good cry, have sex with your hot as sin baby daddy, get a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow, wake up prepared to kickass.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I know. Bye, Chicka.”

  Slowly, I ease Ella into her crib. Surprisingly, she doesn’t wake up. Maybe that last diaper took a lot out of her. I hurry to my laptop, and about have a nervous breakdown, when my internet acts up. It finally connects, and I sign in to my class portal. Trent walks in, and I hurry to shush him.

  “She’s sleeping,” I whisper scream.

  He looks about how I feel, but I’ll deal with him after my test. I answer questions as quickly as I possibly can. The timer runs out, and my test is submitted before I finished. But only two questions were left. If I got all the others correct, then I will still have a score I can be happy with. Actually, I’m happy either way. I tried. I kept going. I might have broken down, and I might breakdown again, but I refuse to give up.

  In the middle of the night, I wake up startled. I rush to Ella’s room, alarmed she hadn’t woken up yet for her middle of the night feeding. I feel tremendous relief at the sight of her little chest rising and falling. Gently, I place my hand to her sweet tiny forehead. Her temperature is normal. She doesn’t feel too warm. Smiling, I feel my eyes water. I tiptoe out of her room and down the hallway. I step outside, needing fresh air. I wipe a few stray tears and stare up into the night sky.

  It’s going to be okay. I can do this.

  A light breeze caresses my cheek. In a more confident voice, I whisper out loud, “I can do this.”

  Feeling all the effects from juggling everything, I leave Ella with my mother and drive to the spa. It’s time for another me day. I spend a good part of my day enjoying my Christmas present.

  Next, I drive to the mall. As I’m walking through, I spot Denise. “Hey you! What are you up to? Get anything cute?”

  Denise shifts from one foot to the next. Licking her lips, she looks around me. “Are you here by yourself? I thought you didn’t leave the house?”

  Ouch. “Yeah, I went through a rough spell. I’m good now. But, yes, I’m all by my lonesome. Wanna join me?” When she doesn’t answer immediately, I begin to feel silly for asking her. We don’t have that much of an age difference. Do we? Would it be weird to hang out with her older brother’s girlfriend? “Unless you’re here with friends…”

  “No, I’m alone, too. Suuure. We can…hang out.”

  “Great! So, what have you gotten already?”

  “Why are you so worried about what’s in my bag?”

  I flinch at her hostility. Denise can be rude, but it’s always been in an oblivious kind of way. “Hey, I’m sorry. It was my attempt at conversation.”

  She squeezes her eyes shut and breathes heavily through her nose. What’s going on? After a moment, she opens her eyes. She has gorgeous ones. They’re the same color as Melissa and Trent’s. And Ella’s.

  “I’m sorry. That was really rude of me. I’m a little tense from all the stress, is all. My life is a lot. There’s a lot of pressure, ya know? ”

  I force myself not to roll my eyes. I wish I had high school stress again. This kid has no idea. I didn’t know what stress was until I had a baby and college exams. Forcing myself to remember what it was like to be back in high school, I try for sympathy. “Do you want to talk about it? I mean, it wasn’t that long ago I was in your shoes.”

  Her smirk makes me want to whop her. “Rachel, you’ve never been in my shoes. You have no idea. I get you’ve had it rough, but I’m a Randall. Everyone expects me to be involved in everything. I have to volunteer and join everything. I’m expected to have perfect grades and look a certain way. Plus, I’d like to be the only Randall to not have a scandal. It’s a saying now. Did you know that? Randall Scandal. I get teased about what’s going to be my scandal.” Her lips press together, and her nostrils flare. “It’s not easy, okay?”

  “Is Luke’s sister still bullying you?”

  Denise looks at her feet and mumbles, “Yeah, she’s not letting up anytime soon. Her minions are everywhere.”

  I wonder if Ella will go through this. Will she crumble to peer pressure? Will she feel suffocated by social statuses? Denise’s body stiffens, and she squeaks when I wrap my arms tightly around her.

  “Come on. You need a relaxing day, too.” I take her hand.

  “Why are you holding my hand?”

  “Because…why not? We’re going to have a girls’ day!”

  Denise looks around and quickly pulls her hand away. “I don’t need a rumor going around that I’m a lesbian now. We can walk beside each other, like normal straight women.”

  I burst out laughing. “Denise, nobody is going to think you’re a lesbian for holding another woman’s hand. I practically grew up in your house. I’m the mother to your niece. We’re practically family. Besides, friends hold each other’s hands. It’s not weird…”

  “Ugh, see, you don’t get it. There’re rumors…about Landon. Now people are wondering if I am… Because I’ve not… ya know, with a guy.”

  Immediately, I stop in my tracks. Fury courses through my body. Pressure forms at my temples, and I have an urge to scream and hit the next high schooler I see. “Denise, listen to me.” I can barely speak I’m so angry. “You obviously go to school with some ignorant little assholes. For one thing, it’s really nobody’s business on whether or not you’re a virgin. Second, what would be the big deal if you were gay? Huh? What would be so wrong? Nothing! Nothing would be wrong, because you’re free to love whomever you choose. And anybody who tells you different… they can go fu-”

  Denise places her hand over my mouth. “Ssshhh. There goes Stacey Jones. She’ll hear you.”

  “So what? I don’t know who Stacey Jones is, and I don’t give one flying flip what she thinks. And you shouldn’t either.”

  “Well, I do, so please stop. I have to go to school with he
r.”

  I look over and see a plastic looking girl walking while staring at her phone. “I’m pretty sure that little miss Stacey over there doesn’t see us or anyone else for that matter. She’s probably going to run into something here in a minute. Oops. There she goes. Yup, there’s a door there.” I look back at Denise. “That’s the kind of person who’s opinion you’re so worried about? She just ran into a door because she’s oblivious to the world around her.” Denise doesn’t respond. “You’re smarter and better than that. Be you. And be proud of the family you come from.”

  “Okay. Can we go now? I thought you said we were going to have a relaxing day. It feels rather tense so far.”

  “Can I loop my arm through yours? Girls do that, right? I mean, when I had friends we did.”

  Denise chuckles. “When you had friends?”

  “Yeah, most of those relationships have drifted away.”

  With one corner of her mouth turned down, Denise, begrudgingly, loops her arm through mine. I can’t help but smile at how dramatic she is. One day, I hope Denise can say the hell with what people think. Seeing her so beautiful and intelligent, yet letting her insecurities rule over her, has me reflecting upon myself. I went through that, and I’m still doing it. Not as bad, but I still let those doubts creep in. Not anymore. And I’m not going to let it happen to Denise either. Today, tomorrow, from here on out, we’re going to own each day. We’re beautiful and confident women who shouldn’t care what people think.

  With her arm looped through mine, I hold my chin up high and strut through the mall. While I feel invincible, I must look ridiculous because Denise’s eyebrows are pinched as she stares at me warily. It’s okay, though, because I’m owning it.

  After shopping, we decide the weather is nice enough to walk down the street to a diner. As we’re walking, we pass a tattoo parlor. I’ve never gotten a tattoo. I’m feeling giddy and adventurous, so I tell Denise to go get a seat at the diner, and I’ll be right there.

  A cute young guy who’s covered in tattoos from the neck down, as far as I can tell anyway, walks up to me.

  “Thinking about a tattoo or just curious?” Direct. I like it.

  “Both.”

  He smirks. “Any ideas? A heart, star, butterfly or name? Maybe a religious verse?”

  “Do I look like the type that would get a heart, scripture, or butterfly?”

  He openly looks me up and down. “Sweetheart, I’ll be impressed if you even go through with any tattoo. I know your type.”

  “I’m not here to impress you. If anything, you should be trying to impress me. Show me what you can do and if you’re qualified for me to allow you to permanently mark my body.”

  He leans closer to me and whispers, “I know I’m qualified to mark your body, Sweetheart. And trust me, it would be an experience permanently marked in your mind.” He winks and turns around. I watch him in shock as he walks behind a large desk and pulls out a thick binder. “Now, what kind of tat are you considering? Any ideas at all?” He opens the binder, but then looks up, when I still haven’t answered. He grins. “Or, are you still wondering what I’m capable of doing to your body. You only have to ask.”

  I huff out a breath and stomp over to the desk with my head held high. “I want something-”

  “Big?”

  “No. I want something-”

  “Long?”

  “Are you serious, right now? What are you twelve, with these pervy jokes?”

  “Pervy?” He cocks an eyebrow. “And I was discussing scripture verses. Are you considering a long verse? But since I know where your mind is, I’m guessing you’re not a good Christian girl.”

  I’m not even going there with him. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to tell you what kind of tattoo I’d like. I want a dragonfly.”

  He flips through his binder and stops at an open spread of two pages, all covered with various insects. There’re only two dragonfly sketches, but they’re not what I want. I give him a shortened version of the meaning behind the dragonfly. My journey with loss, pregnancy, and now, a new beginning, hopefully, with a children’s book. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that short. But in my defense, I haven’t been out much, and it’s nice talking to another adult. Another new adult. He patiently listens. Then, as soon as I finish, he grabs a notepad and pencil. I watch in fascination as his pencil flies over the paper in smooth, fluid motions. In what seems like a few seconds, he turns the notepad around to show me his work.

  It’s perfect.

  The wings have lots of little details, but upon closer examination, those little details are personal to me. Blending into the lines of one wing is “Landon” in beautiful script. On another wing is “Gabriella.” There are beautiful swirls around the dragonfly, and they lead up to a heart. He explains that he would use watercolors. He asks if there is anything I’d like to adjust or add. He also reminds me that I can always add to it later as well. I tell him two minor adjustments I’d like to make.

  “This will take two sessions probably.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  The bell on the door rings, and I look over to find Denise. Shit. I forgot about her.

  “Um, Rachel. What are you doing? I got worried when you still hadn’t shown up and didn’t answer your phone.”

  “I’m so sorry, Dee.”

  “Dee? We go shopping together, so we’re doing nicknames now?”

  “Sorry, I got excited.”

  “About getting a tattoo? You know those are permanent, right?”

  I grin and tell her to come over and check out the design. She agrees it’s gorgeous. Surprisingly, Denise holds my hand as I go through my first session for the tattoo.

  When I get home, I do everything possible to make sure Trent doesn’t see me without a shirt on. The tattoo is on my left side. I plan to show him once it’s completely finished. As we crawl into bed together, he frowns at my baggy shirt and shorts. He snuggles up to me and tries to be seductive. I pretend to fall asleep. It’s hard to control my snicker, when I hear him release a frustrated sigh.

  The next morning, I’m surprised when Trent suggests we go for a drive. “All of us. I have something I want to show you.”

  I hurry to finish feeding Gabriella and get her ready.

  We drive into a subdivision on the edge of town. I look around at all the nice houses. They aren’t as extravagant as the Randall’s mansion, by any means, but they’re gorgeous.

  “There’re two houses for sale in this area. One in this subdivision, and then there’s one in the neighboring subdivision. There are empty lots for sale to build a house. I just thought we might take a look. We haven’t really discussed if we want to raise Ella in our hometown or move. Thought I might…I don’t know.”

  I smile at how nervous he’s being with this subject. “It’s something we do need to discuss. I’m good with staying.”

  “Really? Alright.”

  We drive around for a few more minutes. We notice how quiet the backseat has become. I look back to find our princess sleeping peacefully. I look at the clock and realize we need to head back.

  Two months later, Denise and I spend another girls’ day together at the mall and then go to my second session for my tattoo. I don’t know if it’s because Melissa also had commented on it, but Denise has definitely been moodier and more anxious, as of late. At first, I chalked it up to teenage hormones. But no, she’s more anxious than usual as we walk through the mall. Then it dawns on me. The bullying. Denise is frightened.

  “Denise, you can talk to me, you know?” Her eyes quickly cut to me. They’re so wide and… “Hey.” I stop walking. “Let’s get real for a minute. What’s going on with you?” She huffs and starts to walk again. Gently locking my arm around hers, I lead her to a bench. “You can tell me.” I guide her to sit down next to me. Her mannerisms remind me of a guy, in my college support group, who was struggling with drug withdrawals. “You know, I’ve tried stuff, too.”

  “Stuff?”

  “I�
�ve experimented. One time, Landon and I tried weed.” I lean closer to her. “Now you. Have you tried anything? Recently?”

  “Gah, no. Why?” She rolls her eyes. Her very twitchy right eye. I notice a little bit of sweat has gathered at her hairline, and her eyes have deep circles under them. Has she been getting any sleep? Her leg bounces at a rapid pace.

  “Okay. I was curious. Also, just wanted to let you know, you can talk to me.”

  She looks me in the eye, for a minute, before looking everywhere else, literally everywhere, and whispers, “Thanks.”

  Something is going on with Denise. I bet the answer is in her bag. Once again, she’s carrying a bag and doesn’t want to share its contents.

  Trent and I have gone three months without sex. I don’t want to reveal my tattoo until it’s finished and healed, but I think it’s about to drive Trent insane. It hasn’t been too difficult to deter him with both of us having work, schoolwork, and a baby. We’re both exhausted by the time we get her to sleep and finish our studies. My professors in my writing classes have really been encouraging me. At this point, it doesn’t feel like homework. I’ve also been busy working with Alice on our children’s books. We’re planning to try and publish them by next year.

  Trent has planned a date night for us. His parents are going to keep Ella overnight. I’m a little nervous about that, but we’ll be right next door. I’m excited to have a night all to ourselves, so we can sleep in, and most of all, show him my tattoo.

  “I’m going to take Ella to Mom’s, while you finish getting ready.” He calls out to me as I finish applying my makeup. I rush to my baby to give her goodbye kisses. In between kisses on her chubby cheeks, I profess my love for her and question Trent repeatedly, making sure we packed everything she needs. “She’ll be next door. We’re, physically, in their backyard.”

  Trent asks me if I want to go for a walk in the park or if I’d like to drive by the river before dinner. “I just feel like this being our first date since Ella, I should be wooing you.”