Reinventing Rachel

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Reinventing Rachel Page 20

by Alison Strobel

“Right, Rachel?”

  Rachel jumped. “What? I—I’m sorry, I got caught up in my own thoughts. I didn’t realize you were talking to me.” She felt her cheeks warming with embarrassment.

  Leah spoke again. “I was just telling Declan that I’d told you about our house church the other day, and that you’d said you were familiar with the concept.”

  “Oh—right, right.”

  “If you’re interested, we’d love to have you join us,” Declan said. His brown eyes drew Rachel in like tractor beams. “Not that we’re doing anything formal right now—though I suppose that’s the whole point, aye?”

  Rachel swept the small pile of debris she’d made into the dust trap. “Oh, thanks, but no. I’m not, um—I’m not really a Christian anymore.”

  Leah’s eyes widened. “Anymore?”

  Rachel concentrated her eyes on her broom, not wanting to make eye contact with either of them. “It’s a long story. I don’t really like to talk about it.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Declan said, his voice sincere.

  “It’s okay,” she said, offering a small smile that was probably more flirtatious than she had intended. She suddenly realized how tired she was, which she blamed for her apparent inability to control her facial expressions. She needed to be home, in bed, with this night behind her and Declan out of her space before she said something stupid.

  And yet, once she was home and in bed, she stared at the ceiling, unable, as usual, to sleep. Thoughts of Jack’s comments about making a career rather than just having a job were buzzing around in her head. Was coffee destined to be her career? Surely youth ministry hadn’t been her only other option.

  And was that all life was—finding a job you could tolerate for thirty years, then retiring and playing bunko and knitting until you died? She thought about heaven and the beliefs she’d had about death. Without some kind of afterlife to aim for, what was the point of life? And without God, what was life’s value?

  It was past midnight when she finally rolled out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen for a drink. As much as she’d always loved coffee, sleep had always been the one thing it couldn’t deliver. She was glad she’d finally found something that could give her a hand in that department.

  She drained the shot of vodka and cringed at the heat on her throat. As it dissipated, however, she felt more at peace, knowing in a few minutes her mind would stop racing in circles and she’d finally be able to sleep.

  o

  Rachel nearly dropped the espresso she was making when Declan stepped through the door. He saw her and waved. She waved back, then quickly bent her head to her work and willed him to wait to order his drink until she’d gotten back to the office. She wanted to grab another Altoid before they spoke, and she’d left the container on the desk.

  “Hey, Rachel,” he said as he approached the counter. “Feeling better today? You looked pretty shattered last night.”

  “Yes, thanks, got some good sleep,” she lied as she slid the drink down the counter and then called out the customer’s name. “What can I get you?”

  “Just a large coffee, thanks.”

  She smiled. “Easy customer.” She poured the coffee and handed it to him, then took the money he handed her. “Looks heavy,” she said, nodding toward the backpack that hung off his shoulder.

  “The thing’s a beast. I’ll likely be paralyzed by the time I graduate.”

  She handed him his change with a smile she couldn’t help. She loved his accent, for one thing. “There you go—enjoy. You sticking around?”

  “For a while, aye. Just to get a change of scenery while I study. You working long?”

  “Another four hours.”

  “Well, if you get a break, come chat with me. I’d love the excuse to procrastinate.”

  She smiled, though inside she felt guilty at the warmth that came at his invitation. “Maybe, yeah. Thanks.”

  He nodded and smiled before leaving to claim a table. She checked the clock and decided to do two more office tasks before taking a break to chat with him. Though she wasn’t sure why—she wasn’t in the mood to talk. But something about him made her want to just sit next to him. He didn’t even have to talk to her. Maybe just stare at her with those eyes—

  Stop it!

  She served customers until Brian was back on shift, then ducked into the back to tweak the following month’s schedule and place an order. Once she had those done, she took one last drink from her water bottle and ate another Altoid, then went out for her hard-earned break.

  “Perfect timing,” Declan said when she appeared beside him. “I was just getting to Tertullian, and he bores me to tears.” He grinned and pushed out a chair for her. “I’d buy you a drink but you probably get them free, yes?”

  She smiled her first genuine smile in days. “I do. But thanks for the sort-of offer.”

  “Do you drink a lot of coffee then?”

  “Oh yes. You?”

  “Well, more than I did back in Scotland, but only because I can’t find a decent hard cider here to save my life.” He shut his book and pushed his glasses back up on his nose. “So tell me more about how you aren’t a Christian anymore.”

  Had she been drinking something she’d have choked a little. “That was subtle.” But the look his eyes was like truth serum. She wanted to tell him everything.

  “Yeah, diplomacy isn’t my strong suit. I find out someone has a story to tell about God, I want to hear it, good or bad. I don’t do a lot of beating around the bush. Life is short, no point in wasting it on small talk.”

  She meant to only give him the bare minimum, but his questions kept her talking until Jack materialized beside her. “Hey, babe.”

  She jumped, hand on her heart. “You startled me.” She looked at the clock and realized she’d been talking with Declan for half an hour. Jack was just coming on shift. She stood as she made the introductions. “Declan, this is Jack. My boyfriend. And Jack, this is Declan. He’s a friend of Leah’s from school.”

  They shook hands as Rachel pushed her chair in. “It was good talking to you, Declan. Sorry I have to run, I lost track of the time.”

  “No worries, Rachel. It was a pleasure. We’ll have to talk some more again sometime.”

  She walked with Jack back to the stock room where she saw for the first time the disappointment in his eyes. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you were so religious back in California?”

  “Oh.” She cringed. “You heard that, huh?”

  “We were actually talking about religion at the party and you still didn’t bring it up.”

  “Because it’s not that big a deal.”

  “The way you were talking with Declan, it sure sounded like a big deal. ‘Eating me up inside’ were the words I think you used.”

  She let out a huff of frustration and pressed her palm to her forehead. “Well … he’s a Christian, so he understands where I’m coming from. That’s all.”

  Jack shook his head. “I just can’t believe you’d talk with a virtual stranger about that and not your boyfriend. It certainly would have explained a lot.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your mood lately—you’ve been so subdued. Knowing that something has been weighing on you like that would explain it.”

  She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest. She noticed it took him a few moments to reciprocate. “I’m sorry, Jack. Honestly.”

  “It’s all right,” he said after a long moment. “Just promise me you won’t keep any more secrets, okay?”

  She promised, knowing it was a lie—she certainly wouldn’t divulge the way Declan made her feel any time soon, or the doubts about being with Jack long term. They broke apart and went back to work, though Rachel couldn’t concentrate on anything long enough to finish it. Rachel needed Daphne’s help to sort through this. She felt so guilty for enjoying Declan’s company so much, and awful for making Jack feel bad. Something wasn’t right with their relationship
. She didn’t know what it was, but she didn’t think she’d be lying so much to him if things were as they should have been. She finished the remaining contents of her water bottle. This is when I need Daphne to be the friend she used to be.

  She had three hours left of work. It was going to be a long afternoon.

  o

  Rachel’s phone rang as she sorted laundry in the living room. She crawled over the pile of clothes to her purse, which hung from the barstool. Her chest tightened when she saw her mother’s number on the display.

  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 dow
n 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.”

 

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