Reinventing Rachel

by Alison Strobel

  “Hey, Rachel,” Leah said when she finally emerged. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Not bad. It’s a lot easier to sleep in my own bed.”

  Leah pointed out the other two people standing in the kitchen. “This is Mark and Jasmine. Jasmine is one of my roommates.”

  Rachel couldn’t help but notice how Declan, who was leaning against the far wall, avoided making eye contact. “Hi, Mark, Jasmine. Thanks for coming over.”

  “You’re welcome,” Mark said. “Jasmine made a serious breakfast over here, if you’re hungry.”

  Rachel nodded. “Yes, please. Just a small plate, though.”

  “No problem,” Jasmine said. “Anyone else want more?”

  Leah and Declan called out requests as Rachel took a seat beside Leah at the bar. Declan left the wall and pulled a container of orange juice from the fridge. “Can I get you some?” he asked her, finally meeting her eyes.

  “That’d be great. Thanks.”

  He poured her a glass and slid it across the formica, but the taste of it triggered a craving that made her stomach clench. She made a face as she set it aside.

  “Has it gone off?” he asked.

  “No, no, it’s fine—I just can’t drink it yet. Long story. Got any coffee?”

  “You got it,” Declan said.

  Jasmine set a plate of pancakes, quiche, and bacon in front of Rachel, and she found her appetite growing just from the look of it.

  “Jasmine, I can’t believe you made all this,” Rachel said. “It smells delicious.”

  Her smile was warm. “It was no trouble. I love to cook.”

  “She has a gift,” Leah said. “And we make sure she gets plenty of opportunity to use it.”

  Rachel ate while the others regaled her with stories of the meals Jasmine had made for their frequent “community” dinners, and the camaraderie she sensed among them made her heart twinge with jealousy. It was enough to make her almost hope they’d invite her to join them sometime.

  “Listen, Rachel,” Mark said after helping Jasmine clean up the dishes. “We’re all happy to stay, but we don’t want to overwhelm you, either. Let us know what you want us to do, okay? We’re at your service entirely, and if that means taking off for a while, that’s cool.”

  “Everything is a little overwhelming right now, to be honest.” She blinked back her emotion and focused on the pancake left on her plate. “I know there’s so much to do, but I don’t know where to start.”

  Leah pulled the notepad from beneath the landline phone. “Last night you said you weren’t sure Daphne’s parents knew about what’s happened.” She made a note on the paper. “And you weren’t sure about staying here, since your name’s not on the lease.” She made another note. “And Daphne’s belongings need to be boxed up.”

  “So you’ll need some boxes. I can get those,” Mark said. “A guy in my hermaneutics class just moved. I’ll give him a call and see if I can take his boxes off his hands.”

  “Rachel, do you know her parents’ names?”

  Rachel nodded to Jasmine. “Yeah. And their address—or at least, what used to be their address. The phone number they had when we were growing up isn’t theirs anymore, though. I can call my mom and ask if they’ve moved.” Rachel slapped a hand over her eyes. “Oh man. My parents don’t know about what happened, either. To Daphne or me.”

  Leah made two more notes on the paper. “Deep breath, Rachel. It’ll be okay.” She smiled, then glanced at Jasmine. “So, quick question—do you want to stay here if the management company is okay with it? Or would you prefer to move?”

  Rachel shook her head. “No. I want to move, definitely.” She sighed. “Add ‘apartment hunting’ to the list, I guess.”

  “Well, Jasmine and I talked last night with our other roommate, and we both agreed we’d love to have you come live with us.”

  “What? Are you sure? Jasmine, you don’t even know me.”

  Jasmine folded her arms and leaned on the bar. “No, but Leah vouches for your character. The three of us have been praying for a new roommate since our other one left, and we all feel like the four of us would do really well together.”

  Rachel clutched her coffee mug tighter. “But what if I don’t want to join the house church?”

  Leah shook her head. “This has nothing to do with the house church, Rachel. Our other roommate, Anne, isn’t a member. Of course you’re welcome to join us, but even if you didn’t, we’d still love to have you come live with us.”

  “Though we do have a tendency to congregate at their place,” Declan said. “So if you really want to get away from us …” The others laughed, but Rachel could see the concern in his eyes.

  “Think about it,” Leah said. “We can talk about the specifics later if you want. But for now let’s start tackling this list—if you feel up to it, that is.”

  “Write down Daphne’s parents’ info, whatever you’ve got, and I’ll get on the Internet,” Jasmine said.

  “If you have the name of the management company I’ll give them a call and figure out what needs to happen with the lease here,” Declan said.

  Rachel sighed. “I guess I’ll call my parents, at least find out if they know where Daphne’s parents went.” She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. “I don’t suppose any of you want to tell them where I’ve been for the last week?”

  Leah wrapped an arm around Rachel’s shoulders. “I think that job falls to you. But we’ll pray for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Mark looked at his watch. “I have class in an hour, so I’m going to get going, see if I can track that guy down beforehand.” He looked to Leah. “Someone give me a call this afternoon and let me know what the plan is for tonight.”

  “Will do.” Everyone waved as Mark headed for the door. “Jasmine, what’s your day like?”

  “I’m going to go to a meeting at noon, and I work tonight.”

  “Cool. Declan? Don’t you usually have something Monday mornings?”

  “Aye, philosophy—but I skipped it.”

  Leah laughed, but Rachel frowned. “What? Why?”

  His look was sheepish. “This felt more important in the long run.”

  Rachel felt a catch in her chest and looked away.

  “You’re sweet, Declan,” Leah said. “Rachel, what would you like to do now?”

  Rachel finished her coffee and shrugged. “I guess I should call my parents.”

  “Would you like us to stay, or do you want to be alone?”

  “Um … alone, I think.”

  Leah nodded. “All right then. Should Declan and I bring back some lunch? Maybe around noon?”

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  “All right then.” They all got up and pulled on their coats, then Leah picked up the notebook again. “Here’s my cell number, Rachel. Give me a call if you think of anything you need.”

  Rachel watched them leave, receiving one more loaded look from Declan before he shut the door behind them. Then she poured herself more coffee and sat for a while, somewhat enjoying the stillness and quiet and gearing up for what would certainly be a stressful call to her mother. An idea dawned, and while most of her knew it was a bad idea, the rest of her had little control over the impulse. She walked over to the liquor cabinet.

  Empty.

  She cursed aloud. Someone had removed its contents. Ruby Jean?

  My room! She hurried to her bedroom and dropped to her knees to peer under the bed where she’d always kept her vodka. Excitement raced through her when she saw it was still there, along with her cell phone, but when she pulled it out she gasped. It was empty.

  “I drank it all?” She stared at the bottle, fighting once again to remember the days before Ruby Jean found her. Had she really drank that much?

  She sank against the bed, bottle in hand. Her liquid courage might be gone, but she had coped without it for twenty-plus years; certainly she could recapture that confidence and inner strength.

  I can
do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

  The verse came unbidden, and she glanced to the ceiling as though expecting to see the words written there. Well, I might as well give it a shot. She fished the cell phone from beneath the bed and clutched it in her hand. She took a deep, calming breath, then looked again to the ceiling. “Help me?”

  No bolt of courage, no voice of encouragement. But regardless, she opened the phone and began to dial.

  o

  Leah and Declan had already returned when Rachel came out of the bedroom after calling her mother and taking a brief nap. “We got sub sandwiches,” Leah said, pointing to the stack of wrapped sandwiches on the bar. “I took a guess for yours, but I’m sure any of us would trade with you if you didn’t like it.”

  “I’m not picky. I’m sure whatever you got me is fine. Thanks.”

  Declan got a stack of plates from the cupboard. “Did the chat with your mother go all right?”

  Rachel gave him a small smile. “It went about as well as it could have. Unfortunately stints in mental wards are not uncommon in my family, so it wasn’t the shock it could have been. Oh, and she said Daphne’s parents moved last month, but she three-wayed the realtor whose name is on the sale sign, and we talked to her. She’s passing my contact info to Daphne’s dad’s sister; apparently she’s handling the sale of the house.”

  “That’s good.”

  “We heard from Mark,” Leah said. “He talked to his friend about the boxes, and he said we could have whatever we could haul away. Jasmine has a car, so we’ll coordinate something with her and Mark’s friend and get some boxes tonight.”

  “That’s amazing. Thank you.”

  Declan waved a hand to the living room and kitchen. “So how much of this is yours?”

  Rachel’s eyes scanned the space. “Nothing. Furniture, books, TV, dishes … it’s all Daphne’s. When I moved out I didn’t even have a bed, just a bunch of boxes, and it’s all pretty much stayed in my room.” She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Maybe I should put all the furniture up for sale on the Internet or something—”

  “I think we can take care of that.”

  Rachel looked at Declan. “Oh good grief, no. I’m not going to make you guys deal with all that. You’ve done so much already.”

  “You wouldn’t be making us do anything. You’d be letting us help you.”

  “Although,” said Leah as she poured soda into a glass, “it means you’ll be left with nothing out here. You’ll need to figure out where you’re going to move before we start packing up the kitchen and selling off the furniture.”

  Rachel sighed. “Ah yes. Moving.” She glanced to Leah. “Are you sure you and Jasmine aren’t just making your offer out of pity?”

  “Positive. And look, you don’t have to stay forever, or even a year. Stay until you’re in a better position to analyze your next move, be it back to California or to a different part of the city, or to somewhere completely different. It’ll take one more decision off your plate in the meantime, one more bag of stress from your shoulders, and you’ll be freed up to just concentrate on rebuilding your life.”

  She grinned. “I’d be a fool to turn you down, wouldn’t I?”

  Leah chuckled. “Well, I hate to pass that kind of judgment … but yes.”

  Rachel laughed. “All right,” she said with a smile. “Let’s do it.” Her smile grew wider as Leah and Declan let out a cheer. “So when should we make the big move?”

  “We can start sorting through things while the others are gone this afternoon,” Declan said. “Then once Jasmine and Mark come back with the boxes, we can all pitch in to get you packed. I’ll bet we can get you out of here in less than twenty-four hours if you want.”

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so awkward being alone with Declan if we have a task to complete. “Okay, that sounds good.”

  Declan offered to pray before lunch, and without thinking Rachel bent her head and closed her eyes. She felt a warmth in her chest as Declan spoke that made her aware of the cold that had been there without her knowing. When they raised their heads he caught her eye and smiled. She quickly focused on her sandwich.

  So we’re going to be alone, eh? It was going to be an interesting afternoon.

  o

  Declan surveyed the living room, hands in his pockets. “So, how should we start?”

  Rachel looked around. “Why don’t you start by throwing out the magazines in here and Daphne’s room. Heaven knows I have no need for Cosmo and InStyle. I’ll go around and make sure all my stuff is moved into my room so it doesn’t get mixed up with Daphne’s things.”

  Declan nodded and began to gather the scattered back issues while Rachel took a slow tour of the room, looking carefully at every object to make sure it wasn’t hers.

  She thought of a question she’d meant to ask earlier but had forgotten. “So what meeting was Jasmine talking about, do you know?”

  “Oh, she goes to AA.”

  Rachel stopped. “AA, like, Alcoholics Anonymous, that AA?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She’s an alcoholic?”

  “You wouldn’t know it, looking at her, you’re right.” He placed a stack of magazines on the bar. “She’s very open about it, though—you should talk to her sometime. She really likes the meetings. I’m sure she’d be happy to bring you if you thought it would be helpful.”

  “Oh, I don’t know …”

  “I know she says those meetings are what kept her sober for the last few years. If nothing else you might find some people who can relate to what you’ve gone through.”

  She nodded, then asked the question she’d be wondering about ever since that morning. “So … you didn’t tell anyone what happened, did you?”

  “You mean how I completely took advantage of your emotional vulnerability?” His tone told her how disgusted he still was with himself. “Yes, actually, I did.”

  She froze. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t going to share it with anyone, but when Leah told us what had happened and that she thought we should help, I realized I’d be making a mistake not to let them know what I’d done. If I hadn’t, then this—with you, right now—would be a lot more … difficult.”

  He held her gaze with his earnest stare. “I want you to know too, that regardless of how I may feel, I won’t bring it up to you again. And if you feel uncomfortable around me, I won’t come ’round when you move in with the girls.”

  “But—but you can’t just stop coming over. They’re your community.”

  He ran his hand through his hair and shrugged. “Aye, but you’re part of that community too, even if you’re not an ‘official’ member. And it would be selfish of me to ignore your discomfort just so I could keep getting that fabulous cooking of Jasmine’s.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  Rachel shook her head. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that, even if I was uncomfortable. Which … well, I’m not as uncomfortable as I thought I’d be.” She pulled at the hem of her sweater. “I just wish the timing was different.”

  He chuckled. “So do I.”

  “So … how do you feel?”

  “About—about you?”

  “Yeah.”

  He was silent for a moment as he studied her, and she cringed inside. She should have known better.

  But then his features softened and she thought she’d melt from the look he gave her. “I feel like if we were talking two months from now, I would probably stop talking and just kiss you again.”

  Her breath caught in her lungs. “Oh.”

  “Aye.” He gave her another smile, then went into Daphne’s room. Rachel resumed her tour, though her thoughts were somewhere else altogether. After a few moments she said, “I looked for the alcohol.”

  “As I recall, Jasmine was the one who thought to take those out this morning.”

  She sighed, feeling defeated. Maybe Declan was right. Maybe she’d talk to Jasmine about AA this evening.

  Like father, like
daughter—in more ways than I like to admit.

  Chapter 22

  It was Thanksgiving Eve when Rachel finally got up the courage to join Jasmine at AA. She’d been out of the hospital for over a week, and when she woke up that morning she noticed the clouds in her head had begun to disappear. She didn’t feel as fuzzy, as down has she had been. She was able to get out of bed without five minutes of psyching herself up.

  She fixed herself some cereal and plunked down in the recliner that sat in the corner of the living room. From that spot she could see the doors that led to the other bedrooms. Leah’s was open; she was working first shift that morning and had left a couple hours ago. Anne’s was open as well; she had an early morning class on Wednesdays and Fridays. Jasmine’s was still closed, though Rachel thought she detected quiet music playing behind it. Besides being a talented cook, Jasmine was also an accomplished violinist, and the music she listened to most often tended to be classical pieces featuring her favorite instrument.

  Two days ago Rachel had started back at All Together Now. Ruby Jean had gone easy on her, setting her up with busywork that didn’t require a lot of concentration. By the end of the day she’d accomplished much of what she’d been given, but had been exhausted in every possible way. Yesterday she’d had no choice but to work the front because two employees called in with the flu, so she and Jack had worked the lunch shift together. It was awkward at first, but thankfully the rush of customers had been so heavy they’d had no time to socialize until nearly two hours had passed. By then the ice had broken and they were able to chat amiably, albeit guardedly, until his shift ended. When she’d come home that evening she’d again been exhausted, though not as emotionally drained as she’d been the day before.

  She spent the rest of her morning transcribing the notes she’d written in the hospital. She’d started them just after moving in with Leah and the others, and found that typing was therapeutic. She wasn’t sure what she’d do with them once she was finished, but she found that the more she typed, the more ideas came to her for stories and characters. Creative writing had been a favorite pastime during high school and college, but she’d stopped when life had gotten busy after graduation. Now she was writing down the ideas as they came, which slowed down the transcribing but also motivated her to keep with it. Maybe coffee isn’t my only option in life.