Reinventing Rachel

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Reinventing Rachel Page 13

by Alison Strobel


  At least the mystique was gone? Rachel thought that was supposed to be one of the great things about sex—the mystery, the intimacy, the secret two people shared of each other’s most vulnerable spaces.

  “So you’re considering it with Jack, is that it?”

  “Good grief, no.” Rachel squirmed in her seat. “Well … honestly, I don’t know.”

  “Well, don’t do it if you don’t want to, but if you’re all wrapped up in the hang-ups from your upbringing then it might do you good to break out of them.”

  “I don’t know … it seems like an awfully extreme way to ‘break out of them.’ From a purely health-conscious standpoint—”

  “Oh, of course, you have to be safe about it. Condoms, tests, all that.”

  “How do you know if the guy is telling the truth about being clean? What can you do—ask to see the blood-test results?”

  Daphne shrugged as she took another swig. “Not much you can do. That’s why you have to be vigilant about your own health. I can take you to the clinic I go to; you would just go in every once in a while to make sure you’re clean.”

  Rachel felt a headache coming on. “Yeah. I’m just gonna wait.”

  Daphne stood and slid her bowl into the sink. “Well, just in case you ever find yourself needing one—there’s a box of condoms in my top dresser drawer. Feel free to take a couple for your purse or something. You never know when you might find yourself more than willing to change your mind.”

  o

  Later that week Rachel used the Make-Out Can for the first time. She felt even more embarrassed putting it in the window than she had on the evenings she’d come home and seen it placed there by Daphne. But Jack didn’t give her long to ponder the appropriateness of it. They ate the dinner they’d prepared after their shift and then put in a movie that they didn’t watch. To feel someone’s arms around her again, someone’s mouth on hers—and with a lot more interest and passion than Patrick had even shown—gave her ego a much-needed boost.

  They came up for air when Daphne’s footsteps could be heard on the stairs outside. “I should go anyway,” Jack said as they broke apart. “I’m working the morning shift tomorrow.”

  Rachel sighed. “If you insist. I’ll—”

  Daphne opened the door, and the look on her face told Rachel all was not well. She took Jack’s hand and led him to the door, offering Daphne a sympathetic look. Daphne just walked by them in silence and disappeared into her bedroom.

  “I’m second shift tomorrow, so I’ll see you then.” They exchanged one more kiss, then Rachel closed the door and took the can out of the window before checking in on her friend.

  She tapped a timid knock on the door and heard a faint, “Come in.” Daphne was face down on the bed with a box of tissues beside her. Rachel sat next to her and waited for Daphne to speak.

  “I hate men.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Really hate them.”

  “What happened?”

  A few sniffles later, Daphne hauled herself upright. “He broke up with me.”

  “Oh, Daphne. I’m so sorry. What happened? I thought it was going so well.”

  Daphne blew her nose and rearranged herself against the mound of pillows at the head of the bed. “So did I. And it was! But I told Courtney, one of my friends—heh, ‘friends’—at work about us, thinking I could trust her, and she blabbed to someone who blabbed to Paul’s superior. So she called him on it today and he said that no, we weren’t dating, that we’d gone out a couple times but nothing ever came of it.” She dabbed the tissue to her cheek. “So I was all relieved and touched, thinking that he’d lied to protect us, right? But then after work he told me it wasn’t worth the risk. His job is more important to him than me.” Her face screwed up as the tears began to flow again. She leaned her face against her knees and sobbed.

  Rachel had never seen Daphne lose it, especially over a guy. Not knowing what to say, she gave Daphne a pat on the back and said, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” She slid off the bed and went to the kitchen, then pulled two glasses off the shelf and dumped in some ice. Rachel didn’t know many drinks, but she knew at least one. Unsure of the measurements, since Daphne tended to simply slosh in rough approximations, she poured half a glass of Coke into each glass and then added her estimate of a shot’s worth of vodka.

  “Drown your sorrows, ma chérie,” Rachel said as she handed a glass to Daphne.

  Daphne gave her a small smile and took a sip. “Not bad. Well done.” She took another long sip, then settled back against the pillows again. “What really sucks,” she said, staring into the ice cubes, “is that I thought this might be it.”

  “I didn’t realize how into him you were. I thought it was just a ‘for the fun of it’ relationship.”

  “I know. I played it off like that because I didn’t want to jinx it. And we hadn’t been together that long. But I really thought we clicked. He was mature, he had a real job—he was a man, you know? Not a guy, a man.” Tears welled in her eyes again. “I … I actually thought he might love me.”

  Rachel set down her drink and wrapped her arms around Daphne’s slumped shoulders. “You know I understand, Daph. And it’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

  After a few more minutes of crying, she sat up and began mopping her face again. “I’m such an idiot. It’s my own fault.”

  Rachel wasn’t about to agree aloud, even though she’d tried to warn her about dating her boss. “No, don’t let him off the hook like that. If he felt that way then he shouldn’t have waited until he got caught before he ended it. He used you and misled you with his affection. It’s not your fault.”

  Daphne nodded as she crumpled and unraveled her tissue. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. He is a cretin. I am the victim here.” She downed the rest of her vodka and Coke and made a face. “You may have to keep reminding me of that, though.”

  Rachel smiled and gave her another hug. “I will gladly be your broken record.”

  Daphne gasped. “And I have to go to work tomorrow! I have to see him! And everyone knows!”

  Rachel pulled a tissue from the box and handed it to Daphne as her tears began again. She was at a loss. Daphne was the one who was supposed to have the answers for situations like this.

  “I know!” Rachel hopped off the bed and made a dash for the door, accidentally knocking a stack of papers from Daphne’s desk as she did so. “Oh shoot, I’m sorry.”

  “That’s all right—just throw them back up there. I’ll organize them later.”

  Rachel hastily gathered the papers and tried to shuffle them into a neater pile. She was about to set them down when the top sheet caught her eye.

  “Do me a favor and grab me some Tylenol from the bathroom on your way back? I’m getting a crying headache.”

  “No problem.” Rachel tore her eyes from the paper and stopped into the bathroom before going to her own room. She untethered her laptop from its power cord and returned to Daphne’s side. “Let’s see what the online bible says.”

  “Um … I thought you—”

  “No, not that Bible.” Rachel typed for a few seconds, then showed her the screen where the Cosmopolitan website was loading. “This bible.”

  That elicited the laugh she was hoping for. They created a fake profile, then surfed to the Breaking Up message board. A quick scan of the subject lines revealed Daphne was not alone in her relationship-with-a-coworker-gone-wrong dilemma. They spent the next hour reading about other women’s misery and criticizing them for their stupidity—they were, on the whole, so much more brainless than Daphne had been.

  Rachel finally bowed out in the wee hours of the morning, leaving her laptop with Daphne so she could continue to peruse the message boards for comfort and commiseration. But once she was in bed, sleep eluded her. It wasn’t just Daphne’s boy troubles that kept her awake, or the memorable kisses she had given and received that day. What also bothered her was the credit card statement with a red “second not
ice” stamp on it that had fallen from Daphne’s desk.

  Chapter 13

  Summer rounded into Rachel’s first Midwestern fall, and she fell in love with autumn for the first time. She invested in a form-fitting sweater that both Daphne and Jack called “sexy,” along with some skinny jeans. She kicked herself for discouraging that check from her mother—dressing fashionably was a lot more expensive than her old approach to clothing had been.

  Her step had a runway bounce to it when she walked to All Together Now, her feet crunching through colorful leaves that settled in drifts along the sidewalk. The sound reminded her of potato chips—she almost always had a craving by the time she got to work. Daphne said the sound made her think of hot chocolate and scarves.

  Daphne had quit her job at Nordstrom’s two weeks after the breakup debacle and took a temp position doing data entry. She didn’t have to describe the job much for Rachel to know it was not at all enjoyable or rewarding, but there was no drama and, more important, no cute boys to get involved with.

  Rachel could tell that Daphne was depressed, though, because she spent most of her free time holed up in her room, or “just out.” Rachel felt a little guilty because she was so wrapped up with Jack, but Daphne didn’t seem to mind her frequent absence, and when they both happened to be home they always made a small party out of it—cocktails, eclectic dinners thrown together from whatever they found in the fridge, and either a movie afterward or music pumped up to a level just north of respectable so they could dance in the living room. Sometimes they’d go out to a club, where Daphne typically hooked up with someone and spent most of the time lip-locked in a corner. Rachel hated being left alone but wasn’t about to hook up with someone when she was already dating Jack—though she did enjoy flirting and being flirted with, and that was almost as rewarding.

  Twice Rachel received phone calls on her cell from her father, neither of which she answered. She asked Daphne to listen to the voice-mails because she was just too afraid of what he had to say.

  “Afraid—why?” Daphne had asked. “Like, afraid it’ll be abusive or mean?”

  “No, afraid it’ll make me feel bad for him. I don’t want to pity him. I don’t want to feel sympathy for him. I’m angry at him. I don’t want anything to do with him. And I like it that way.”

  Daphne raised her eyebrows. “Now those are words I never thought I’d hear Rachel Westing say.”

  “Well, Rachel Westing never thought she’d utter them, either.”

  “Holding on to hate isn’t healthy, you know.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “I won’t hate him forever—don’t worry. There’s even a small possibility I’ll grow up and accept reality someday. I just don’t want to right now. I need to stay angry, because letting down my guard means opening myself up to all the doubts and worries that coming out here was a mistake.”

  Daphne looked hurt. “You regret moving in with me?”

  “No! No, not at all. I just mean—everything. Leaving California to go anywhere, not just coming here. Daring to live by my own devices and not by faith. I can’t explain how radical it is for me. I have to fight doubt all the time.”

  Daphne let out a snort. “Oh please. Your life is golden right now, Rachel. Awesome job, awesome boyfriend, money in the bank, roof over your head, and a friend who supports you through everything. I’d kill to be you. How could you possibly doubt this was the right decision?”

  Rachel was surprised at Daphne’s tone. She hadn’t guessed her to be the tough-love type, but Rachel had to admit she had a point. “You’re right, you’re totally right, as usual. Sorry if I sounded ungrateful.”

  Daphne gave an impatient wave. “No, no, you didn’t sound ungrateful. You just need to let go of the past and move on, that’s all.” She held up the phone. “Still want me to listen?”

  Rachel bit her lip, then took the phone back. “No, I have a better idea.” She flipped it open and dialed her voice-mail, then erased the message before it had a chance to begin. “How’s that for letting go and moving on?”

  “Good. Dinner?”

  “Yes. Do we have any potato chips?”

  o

  Rachel had been working at the café for almost three months, but so far Ruby Jean still hadn’t mentioned the manager position. Rachel looked forward to the extra money and benefits, but a part of her was glad it hadn’t happened yet. Once it did, she knew things with Jack would get dicey. They’d work it out somehow—they were both mature adults, neither of them had the tendency toward drama that Daphne did—surely they could navigate a romantic relationship without problems. But Rachel couldn’t help worrying that it might all blow up in her face.

  She was pondering this issue while stacking supplies in the stock room when Jack came in to get more cups. “Penny for your thoughts.”

  She grinned. “You know, you’d think inflation would have that up to at least a buck by now.”

  “Haha—don’t change the subject.”

  She waved a hand. “Nothing important.”

  He pulled a box from the storage shelf. “So hey, Wednesday is your birthday, isn’t it?”

  Rachel smiled. “Yes, the big—oh wait, a lady never reveals her age, what was I thinking?”

  Jack laughed. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Anyway, you don’t have plans, right?”

  Rachel thought as she capped her pen and motioned toward the front of the store. “Like, with Daphne? No.”

  “Good. Keep it that way. We’re going out.”

  She laughed, pulling a cup from the stack Jack set up and pouring herself coffee. “Gee, that’ll be a big change from the usual.”

  Jack’s eyes gleamed. “Oh no, I’m talking high-class going out.”

  “Oh really?” She wagged her eyebrows. “Shall I dust off my dancing shoes?”

  He laughed. “No, but heels would be appropriate.”

  “Sounds like a fun night,” Leah said, chiming in from the sandwich station.

  “Doesn’t it though?” Rachel flashed a girly smile at her. She was still wary of Leah, but thought it prudent to be friendly since she’d eventually be her boss.

  Though if she were honest, Rachel would have to admit Leah hadn’t been who she’d expected her to be. She had anticipated the full-blown assault, but nearly every remark about church or God had been fitting for the conversation, rather than a pointed attempt to engage Rachel on the topic. The one conversation she’d steered that way had been natural, and Jack had actually seemed interested in what Leah had to say, which freaked Rachel out a little. The last thing she wanted was for him to convert.

  “Rachel?” Ruby Jean peeked her head out from around the corner. “Would you be able to stick around tonight after your shift?”

  “Sure, R. J.” Ruby Jean nodded and disappeared back into the office.

  “What’s that about, you think?” Jack asked quietly as Leah moved away to serve a customer.

  Rachel shrugged, though her heart began to beat a little faster. “I don’t know—but I know what I hope it’s about.”

  The afternoon was slow, and Rachel was antsy. She tried not to let herself get too excited, in case the promotion was not the reason for Ruby Jean’s request. But if that wasn’t it, then what was it? They hadn’t interacted a ton, but nothing they’d discussed in the past gave Rachel the impression that she might be in trouble.

  In fact, if anything, she felt like she and Ruby Jean were on the same wavelength. Be it her experience with the business side of running a coffee shop or simply a matter of like personalities, Rachel felt a connection with the quick-witted, extroverted woman. She reminded Rachel a little bit of Barbara: wise, easy to talk to, outgoing and friendly with everyone. The way she’d reacted to Rachel’s comment about her mission trip to Brazil had made her nervous—she’d expected to discover she was a Christian too. But she’d never said anything else to indicate she was, and Rachel hadn’t noticed any telltale signs—no Jesus fish on her car bumper, no cross around her neck.
>
  By the end of her shift Rachel had decided that, depending on how things went at the meeting and with her promotion—whenever it came—she was going to work at connecting more with Ruby Jean. With Barbara and her mother both out of her life, at least for now, she could see the wisdom in having an older woman to go to for advice. She loved Daphne dearly, but even with religious differences no longer an issue, she knew Daphne wasn’t always the wisest person.

  Rachel removed her apron when her shift was over and gave Jack a little wink before going back to the office.

  Ruby Jean waved Rachel in, then glanced at the clock above the door. “Do you have dinner plans tonight?”

  “No, why?”

  “I’ve been in this office all day and I need to get out. Let’s go next door; my treat.”

  Rachel followed Ruby Jean out to the front, where she told Cole to come get her if disaster struck. They entered the sandwich shop just east of All Together Now and laughed after they both inhaled and sighed in unison at the scent of fresh bread. “Next best thing to coffee,” Ruby Jean said.

  “You’ve got that right.”

  They ordered their sandwiches and sat at a corner table. Rachel felt like she was on a first date and almost wished she could calm her nerves with a drink. Instead, she gave herself a quick pep talk to help herself remember how much she deserved the promotion.

  “I’m glad we could get together tonight,” Ruby Jean said. “I’ve been wanting to hear how you’re settling in to your new home, how things are going for you, that sort of thing. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to check in.” She chuckled. “Part of the reason why I need another manager. I have no time to catch up on things like that.”

 

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