Reinventing Rachel

by Alison Strobel

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Daphne rolled off the bed and moved to the desk.

  “I’m looking for the gas bill. One of us has to pay for it.”

  Daphne hip-checked Rachel out of the way then yanked open a drawer of files. Rachel was surprised to see an oasis of organization in the drawer, but she was too angry at Daphne to pay her a compliment. She saw the file marked with the name of the gas company and pulled it out, then went to her room to call and see how much this bill was going to cost her. Her savings account had been diminished by more than half when she’d paid off the electric bill. Hopefully that check from her mother would arrive soon.

  This time not even Rachel’s payments had been received. The bill was just under a hundred dollars.

  After Rachel paid the bill, she steeled herself for conflict and headed back to Daphne’s room to try and get to the bottom of what was going on with her. Where had all her money gone, and why was she acting so irresponsibly? But when Rachel opened the door, Daphne was gone.

  o

  During a rare moment when they were alone together at work, Jack asked Rachel if she’d go out with him after their shift. “Maybe we can get some dinner or something,” he said, eyes cast down like he was nervous to talk to her. She hated that he felt that way. She was sure her lack of enthusiasm was becoming more apparent to him. Given the fact that she’d turned down all his invitations over the last two weeks, he had a good reason to be nervous.

  “Yeah, that would be great.” The surprise on his face made her hate herself.

  She spent the rest of the day dreading the evening and even briefly considered just breaking up with him when they went out. They weren’t much of a couple these days anyway, and she wasn’t planning on staying with him forever, so why keep dragging it out? But she changed her mind when she realized it would mean losing yet another person in her life. At this point he was the only one she trusted at all.

  They drove in relative silence to a Chinese place they’d gone to once over the summer, and after their food was ordered, Jack seemed to draw himself up taller and square his shoulders. Rachel had a bad feeling. What was he gearing up for?

  “So, I wanted to talk to you.” Oh boy. “Rachel, I’m really worried about you.”

  Huh? “Worried? Why?”

  “Two reasons. First, the fact that you’re obviously struggling emotionally and haven’t said anything. I’m your boyfriend. Why wouldn’t you share that?”

  She squirmed in her seat. Tell him the truth or keep band-aiding until I can figure out how to get out? “I’m sorry, Jack. I guess … I don’t know … I didn’t want to burden anyone. I don’t think I’m really depressed, just … struggling. Like you said. And I guess I was hoping it would just go away if I didn’t pay it too much attention.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not a burden, Rach. I’m the person who’s supposed to help you with stuff like that. Man, your fiancé must have been one heck of an idiot for you to have such a warped idea of how to have a healthy relationship.”

  His words gave Rachel something to think about. “I never thought of that.”

  “Well, the idea must have come from somewhere.” He picked up a pair of chopsticks and began to click them together. “The fact that you’ve been struggling helps me understand some other things, though.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like your drinking.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Drop the act, Rachel. I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve smelled alcohol on your breath—even at work. For someone who was so excited about that promotion you sure have been taking chances with it. And don’t give me that whole ‘it’s just a couple drinks—it’s like you having two beers’ crap, because I won’t buy it.”

  Indignation burned in her cheeks and her chest. “Why is alcohol any different from drinking a Coke, or an energy drink? I like the taste, it helps me relax—you make it sound like I’m gulping down gallons every day, and I’m just not. Daphne’s the one who got alcohol poisoning, not me. And if I was that bad, don’t you think I’d have come into work totally drunk by now? Just because you smell it on my breath doesn’t mean you know how many I’ve had, and who are you to say how many is too many for me?”

  Jack stared at her, silent, for far longer than Rachel was comfortable with. Finally she returned it with an exaggerated stare of her own. “Why aren’t you talking?”

  “Because I’m trying to figure out if I trust you or not.”

  “I lied about feeling a little depressed so I must be lying now, is that what you’re thinking?” She shrugged. “Fine, think whatever you want.” She slouched back in her seat, sullen, silently daring him to push the issue.

  He sighed and sat back, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t want this to turn into a fight, all right? I’m not out to get you. You’re my girlfriend and I’m worried about you. That’s all.”

  The disappointment in his voice tugged on her conscience. “I’m sorry,” she finally offered. “I appreciate your concern. Just … don’t be concerned, okay?”

  She could tell he wasn’t convinced, but he dropped it anyway—not that the next topic was any better.

  “And I know you said this Declan guy is just a friend—”

  “Yes. Barely even that. He was in the right place at the right time, that’s about it. I happened to be on the verge of a mental meltdown, and he happened to be there and ask just the right question to get me going.” Again doubt was evident in his eyes. “Look—he’s a Christian, and a serious one at that. Not only would I not want to get involved with a Christian, a Christian wouldn’t want to get involved with me. I left the faith when I moved out here. I don’t trust it anymore, I don’t know if I believe in God anymore, and someone who did wouldn’t want to get involved with someone who didn’t.” She spread her hands, surrendering. “End of story.”

  “So … I don’t have to worry about getting some Dear John letter and then finding out you two have run off together?”

  She rolled her eyes, hoping to look convincing. “No.”

  His eyes narrowed for a moment, then he nodded. “All right then.” He reached across the table, his expression softening. “Truce?”

  She took his hands and squeezed. “Truce.”

  “No more awkwardness?”

  “No more awkwardness.”

  He nodded again, then leaned across the table to kiss her. She indulged the gesture, but all she really wanted to do was leave.

  o

  She could hear music thumping in the apartment the moment she stepped out of Jack’s car. Rachel looked up to the windows and saw only the accents of mood lighting, though no Make-Out Can sat in the window. Not that Daphne would hear Rachel coming up, anyway. She waved to Jack and ascended the steps, bracing herself for Daphne’s attitude. She wasn’t likely to take it well when Rachel asked her to turn it down so she could try to sleep.

  She opened the door and quickly shut it without going in. Daphne was dancing in the middle of the living room in her underwear.

  “Good thing Jack didn’t come up,” she muttered as she opened the door again. This time Daphne saw her. She made brief eye contact before turning away. She didn’t stop dancing.

  Maybe this was a good sign. She certainly wouldn’t be in a lousy mood if she was dancing like that. Maybe she and Rachel could actually talk, something they hadn’t done in months. If she stopped dancing, of course. She didn’t look like she was going to.

  Rachel went to the kitchen and pulled out her vodka. “Want some?” she shouted over the music. Daphne whirled to face her, then gave her a thumbs-up. Encouraged by the possibility of a true conversation, Rachel mixed up the drinks—making a particularly weak one for Daphne—and perched herself on the edge of a barstool. Daphne kept dancing until the song began to fade, then she sauntered over with a smile on her face. “Thanks.”

  Rachel didn’t mention Daphne’s lack of clothing; she didn’t want to say anything that mig
ht break the spell of this rare moment of camaraderie. “You’re in a good mood,” she said with her warmest smile.

  “Sometimes a girl’s just gotta dance.”

  “Well, think you’d be able to give me some advice while you take a breather?”

  “Of course, ma chérie, I’m all ears.”

  It was like they’d never fought, like Rachel hadn’t bailed her out of four hundred dollars of debt—like Rachel had just gotten here and things were still as fun as she’d always thought they’d be living with Daphne. “Well, here’s the thing: I met another guy.”

  Daphne’s eyes grew round. “Ooooohhh—”

  “Now, it’s not what you think. He wouldn’t—doesn’t—want anything to do with me, romantically. He’s a really nice guy, we’ve talked a few times, but there’s no chance there because he’s a Christian. But—it’s made me realize that I’m not really content with Jack. He’s great, he’s sweet—”

  “He’s hot, he’s perfect, but you still don’t want him?” Daphne swore. “How picky are you?”

  Rachel’s heart sunk, but she soldiered on, hoping things would recover. “It’s not that I don’t want him. It’s just that I don’t think he’s the person I want to be with long term. I don’t know—I really like him, I mean really, but love—not so much. And I don’t know why, I mean, like you said, he’s perfect.”

  Daphne slammed back the remainder of her drink and shook her head. “I told you so. I told you to learn from my mistake and not date a coworker.”

  “Yes, I know, but this isn’t so much about Jack’s and my relationship, it’s more about me and—”

  “Of course it’s about you! It’s all about you, Rachel. All the freaking time.”

  Rachel tightened her grip on her drink. “What are you talking about?”

  Daphne’s voice took on a whine. “Wahh, my fiancé cheated on me. Wahh, my perfect family has problems. Wahh, my pretty little God hates me—”

  “What are you talking about? Daphne, what is wrong with you?”

  “With me? You’re the one who can’t keep a relationship alive. And I thought I was the dysfunctional one!”

  Tears threatened. “How could you?” Rachel said, voice choked by the lump in her throat. “Why would you? What have I ever done to you?”

  Daphne didn’t answer, and instead stalked to the stereo and turned it back on.

  Rachel had had enough. “Fine!” she yelled over the music. “Fine. Start looking for a new roommate, Daphne.” She went to her bedroom and slammed the door just as the music cut out. A sudden pounding on the door made her jump.

  “No! Don’t move out,” Daphne said from behind the door. “Please. I’m sorry, Rachel, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I promise.”

  Rachel turned up her own stereo to drown out Daphne’s begging, then changed into her pajamas and pulled a bottle of vodka from the bottom drawer of her dresser. She uncapped it and took a swig, then another, then crawled into bed and waited for it to take effect. Eventually Daphne stopped pleading with her, and a few minutes later Rachel heard the front door slam. She closed her eyes in relief and waited for sleep to come.

  An hour later she was still wide awake, and annoyed because the vodka still hadn’t kicked in. She took another couple swigs from the bottle, then a few more minutes later, just to be on the safe side. She really needed to sleep tonight. When her muscles finally began to unknot she was filled with relief. Does vodka go bad? Maybe I’ll get another bottle tomorrow, just in case. This one didn’t seem to be doing the trick.

  o

  The next day Rachel was working on inventory when her cell vibrated in her pocket. She saw her mom’s number come up and reluctantly answered it. “Hey, mom.”

  “Hi, honey. Is this a good time?”

  “Well, I’m at work, but if we’re quick it’s not a big deal.”

  Her mother sighed. “I’ll make it fast, and you can call me back later if you want to.”

  “All right, what’s up?”

  “Are you sitting down?”

  Rachel laughed. “Um, no. Do I need to be?”

  “Well, this came as an awful big surprise to me. Just want to make sure you’re prepared.”

  Rachel’s knees felt weak. She went to the office and sat. “Okay, I’m sitting. What’s wrong? Are you and Dad okay?”

  “Yes, yes, we’re fine sweetheart. But … I finally heard back from the bank, about those checks.”

  “Oh. And?”

  “They were cashed by Daphne.”

  o

  “I’m stunned. Seriously, I’m so in shock I don’t even know what to think.” Rachel leaned her head back against the headrest. “And on top of what happened last night … seriously, Jack, I’m worried she’s losing her mind.”

  Jack reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “She’s falling apart.” He pulled the car into a parking spot in front of Subway and came around to open Rachel’s door. “Are you sure Subway is all you want to eat?”

  “I don’t have much of an appetite.” She hadn’t for a week now. All the winter clothes she’d bought hung loose.

  Rachel sank into her seat with her sandwich. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I get sick to my stomach when I go home at night, wondering what’s going to happen this time. I can’t keep doing this.”

  “No, you can’t. Honestly, Rach, I think this whole mess with Daphne is the root of your depression and all the stress that you’re drinking to alleviate. She’s sucking you dry, emotionally and mentally and physically—even financially. She’s all take and no give, and while, yes, she’s an old friend, and yes, we should, in theory, stick by our friends when they go through hard times, she is so dysfunctional that you need to start considering your own health. This isn’t the same as, ‘My roommate drinks the orange juice straight from the carton and borrows my clothes without asking.’ This is serious. The utilities that you paid for? The emotional abuse? The flat-out stealing of those checks? It’s time to cut bait and run.”

  Rachel groaned. “But run to where? I don’t want to move in with some stranger I found on the Internet. And I don’t make enough to get my own place.”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about this for you.”

  She sighed and picked at her sandwich bread. “Thanks. Come up with any solutions?”

  “Yes. Move in with me.”

  She almost dropped her drink. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I told you, I’ve been thinking about it.”

  She chose her words with care. “That’s a really big step.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, it is. But here’s the thing: I haven’t dated a ton of women, but I’ve dated enough to know that you’re different, in a good way, and I want to do whatever I can to make our relationship last. We’re good together, when you’re not being ravaged by a psycho roommate, and I’d like for us to take the next step, with all that it entails.”

  It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Tears began to stream down her face faster than she could blink them back. His hopeful face crumbled. “Rachel, I’m sorry—”

  “No, no. Happy tears,” she lied. “It’s just … I wasn’t expecting it.” Get a grip, get a grip, get a grip. She sucked in a few deep breaths and mopped up her cheeks. “I didn’t see that coming at all. And given what a crappy girlfriend I’ve been, it’s a total shock to think you would want to go deeper.”

  He looked cautiously relieved. “Okay, good. For a second there you had me worried.”

  Rachel bought some more time with a long sip of her soda. “I don’t know what to say, Jack. I mean, this is a huge step. I didn’t even move in with my fiancé when I was engaged. And I don’t want to do it for the wrong reasons. So … can I think about it?”

  “Oh, yeah, of course.” She could tell he was disappointed, but she was grateful for his understanding. “You’re totally right, it’s not something that should be a snap decision. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but you should have time to think about it too. I’m just
relieved you didn’t just say no.” He grinned, and put up his hands in a gesture of retreat. “I promise not to push you on this. Take whatever time you need. I won’t bring it up again, okay?”

  She sniffed and gave him a small smile. “Thanks.”

  “So anyway, changing subjects …” He began to tell her about the refresher course he was taking to prepare for his sports therapy certification, and, while she was excited for him, she was also slightly tuned out. She felt a bit panicky. All she could think was that she wanted out—out of her apartment, out of her relationship with Jack, out of the colossal emotional mess that was consuming her.

  The first thing she did once she finally got home was to go straight to her bedroom and drink a couple giant swallows of her vodka. Then she sat at her desk and began looking at rental websites, just to see what all was out there. Not much, it turned out, at least not in her price range without a roommate. And where would she find one of those? She rubbed a hand across her forehead and slapped the laptop shut, then laid down on the bed with a book in hand.

  Why isn’t it kicking in?

  She took another swallow, then opened the book and tried to read. But she couldn’t track with the plot; her thoughts kept wandering.

  Frustrated, she shut the book and turned on the radio, then closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Just relax. It’s been five minutes. Just give it a little more time, then it’ll hit and you’ll be able to think more calmly. But ten minutes later she felt no different.

  Drink it all.

  The idea popped into her head. She tried to shove it away.

  It shoved back. All of it, just chug it down. There’s more there than Daphne drank, and it’s not like she’s going to come looking for you until it’s too late.

  Rachel sat up and gave her head a shake. Where had that come from? Even after finding Patrick and Trisha she hadn’t felt that desperate. Maybe Jack had been right—maybe she was depressed. It’s been the year from hell. Who would blame me? Then she thought of her father and wondered if this was a sign of things to come. How had it started for him? With a flash of mania, energy zinging through him as though his veins were high tension wires? Or with a depression that snuck up on him, enveloping him in a haze that put a damper on his emotions and sucked the enjoyment from his life?