Hot Mess (27 page)

"Process of elimination. I had seen you at the Ball, and you piqued my curiosity, so I asked around. When I found out you did work at HHR with sexual health, I started cruising the internet. Tracing IP addresses is easy, if you know what to do. Then, I posed as a "client" and participated in the forum, to get more info, and voila! Nothing illegal. I promise."

"Except fraud, and the article itself was borderline libelous. I could take you to court, you know. If you publish something like that without my consent, it has to meet criteria of newsworthiness. I can prove that it didn't. I can also prove that you misrepresented me, possibly purposefully." A thought occurred to Rachel. "You've brought up the Fireman's Ball a couple of times. And the photo you ran was one that you took at the event. Is it possible that this has something to do with my date to the Ball?"

Rachel watched Crystal carefully, as a bright red flush crawled across her cheeks.

"Sam Owens?"

Rachel nodded.

"Nope." Crystal's jaw pulsed. Her eyes cut to the left, and her fingers clenched into brief little fists. Liar.

Rachel smiled. "You can have him, Crystal. If that's all this is about, I can tell you, it's been over between us for awhile." Unless, of course, you counted the intense night at her house Friday…

Crystal exhaled loudly and relaxed her body against the door jam. "What can I do to get you not to sue me?"

"All I want is another article. One with the truth in it, instead of implications, instead of information that will lead the reader to draw false conclusions. That's what I want."

"That's it?"

"Yep. You've outted me, I might as well do something with it. But I'm not going to be able to fix the damage you've done. It's your responsibility as a reporter to report the truth."

"I'll run it by my editor and see if he'll go for it," Crystal hedged.

"Have I told you about my buddy at the ACLU? I don't just have a lawyer, I have an ACLU lawyer, who specializes in HIV/AIDS discrimination cases. He makes national headlines. Would you like to be on that side of the fence? Really?"

"I'll do it," she grumbled. "I've got to go get ready for work."

"See you later, Crystal."

"Yeah. Bye."

When the door shut in her face again, Rachel felt a sense of accomplishment. She held her head up high as she walked back to her car. She may not have Sam in her life, but she was getting her life back on track, and that was a good thing.

When Rachel got home, she called her friend Bill.

"Bill? I've been throwing your name around a lot lately, and I wanted to check in and see if you're busy…"

"Hey, Rach. Not too busy for you. What's going on?" She could hear the leather of his chair squeak as he leaned back, probably propping his feet on his desk.

She gave him a run-down of the article, the community backlash, and most importantly, the school Principal's reaction and intended actions.

"Well, I wish you had let me handle the reporter, instead of you talking to her. But you did good. Email me the name of this principal, the name of her boss and the school board members, and I'll take care of that one. And give me the name of the paper. I'll call the editor, just to get a fire under their asses."

"Thanks, Bill. This isn't too much trouble?"

"Not at all. It's my pleasure. I love throwing around legalese at little hicks who think they're better than other people. It's what I live for."

From the
Serendipity Herald
, Letters to the Editor:

To Whom It May Concern:

When my son was diagnosed with AIDS, we as a family panicked, thinking his life was over. Many people think that AIDS is a death sentence, that there's no hope for living a normal life. While in a fog of grief, we searched online for stories of others living with HIV/AIDS. We ran across Rachel's website, and it brought us hope and peace. We follow her blog posts and submitted questions and read the site every day for updates. She provides us with current news, research, and her own personal insight into the condition. Without Rachel's website, we would be lost, as it has provided us with untold amounts of comfort in our most desperate days. She has done so much for us, as a family, to help us cope that we cannot stand by and watch her being persecuted by an ignorant community that would rather point fingers than learn the truth.

The truth is, Rachel Fairchild is a strong, caring human being with many of the same issues that "normal" people face. The name of her website says it all. Even though she is HIV positive, she still remains Rachel. I would like to see her town and community embrace her goodness, instead of shunning her "sins" and write an article about her that is newsworthy, praising the good she has done, instead of something that is borderline slanderous, and certainly nothing more than gossip.

Dr. Emanuel Stone, PhD

Washington D.C.

Dear Readers and Dr. Stone,

In response to the above letter, as well as many others, both international and online from readers of Rachel Fairchild's blog, the Serendipity Herald is printing a new article this week focusing on Rachel Fairchild's contributions and affects of her work.

Sincerely,

Bob Wells, Editor,
Serendipity Herald

Rachel wore her happy mask the entire next week and upped it a notch on Saturday, as it was Sophia's anxiously awaited birthday party. Her daughter had chosen the local pizza joint, not for its tasty pizzas, but for the attached game room.

Rachel was pleasantly surprised at the turn out for her daughter. Eleven kids had shown up, despite the recent publicity. Either people were forgetting her, or the letters that her online supporters had sent to the newspaper had worked, or the news about the article that should be in today's paper was changing minds.

She was busily doling out quarters to the impatient children, throwing harried looks toward the kitchen to get a rush on her pizzas so the kids would settle down and eat. Rachel knew Sam was there and that he was sitting in a corner, staring at her, but she managed to ignore the stirrings within her, telling her to go over and throw herself in his arms. His fathomless blue eyes were on her every time she looked up at him and wondered yet again why he was here.

She been ignoring him all week, and not just for herself. She was giving him the out, that he apparently so desperately needed. She was aware that his weak apologies left on her voicemail were just to make himself feel better. If she ignored him, he would go away and be happier without her.

The only problem was, Sophie and Amanda were inseparable. Even though Amanda had been grounded, and couldn't spend time outside of school with Sophie, Sophie had had a note sent home saying that she'd gotten into trouble in class for talking and passing letters back and forth with Amanda. There was nothing she was going to do to keep her daughter from her friend, just because she couldn't get along with her Dad.

The pizzas finally arrived, and Rachel managed to peel the children away from the video games long enough to serve pizzas and drinks to each one. Watching them happily gobble all the preservatives, fat and processed carbs that she usually frowned upon, Rachel reflected on childhood.

The time of innocence, before the evils of the real world had caught up with her, Rachel had had a decent childhood: church every Sunday and Wednesday night, dinners as a family around the table, weekend outings to the park with her mother, who had loved her back then.

Rachel sighed as she looked at each child, wondering what life would bring them. Which evils of the world would touch that one? The little boy who talked entirely too loud? Or the shy little girl on the end, who hadn't smiled since she sat at the table to eat? Had she already been touched somehow?

Settling her eyes on her daughter, Rachel felt a protective pang. She spent her life doing whatever it took to make sure her daughter stayed sheltered from the dark side of life. Rachel tried to reassure Sophia constantly, in an effort to give her the self confidence she would need to protect herself from situations like what Rachel had done. She made sure Sophia exercised, got vaccinated, and ran with the right crowd of kids. Childhood obesity wouldn't touch her daughter, Rachel was too careful with what she ate.

She knew all of her daughter's friends and their parents, though not well. She supervised her time out of school and knew where she was all of the time, as well as who she was with.

Rachel knew though, that only time would tell. The older Sophia got, the more freedoms she would want, and Rachel would have to trust her daughter enough to give her the freedom to grow. And hope that the mistakes her daughter made in her life didn't stunt her growth, like Rachel's had.

Cindy slid into the booth next to her. "Hey girl. Have you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"The school board held a special session Thursday night and handed Mrs. White her walking papers."

Rachel's stomach dropped. "What?"

"Apparently, they got a phone call from some hot shot lawyer, and it was the last straw. She's been getting parent complaints all year, but this took the cake."

"How do you know this?"

"A guy I work with has a wife that works at her school. It's all any of them can talk about. She's packing up her office this weekend, and there will be an interim principal for the rest of the year."

"Wow." Rachel couldn't stop the smile that crossed her face. That was definitely another bit of good news to brighten her day.

Rachel looked up to see Sam staring, still. The emotions that his gaze evoked in her dissipated the warm feelings that Rachel felt about the news of Mrs. White.

The memories last weekend were still as fresh as if they had happened this morning. She remembered every touch, every word spoken, as well as the unspoken ones.

Tears of frustration surfaced, and Rachel stood and clapped her hands to clear her mind of unwanted thoughts. "Present time!" Cindy faded into the background, as she managed to lose herself in the frenzy that accompanied Sophia's unwrapping, carefully throwing away paper, folding gift bags, and re-packing gifts. The next time she looked up at Sam, he had left with Amanda, and she let out a relieved sigh and continued to wrap up the party, the best she could.

When she and Sophia returned home an hour later, laden with presents and leftover balloons, Rachel was surprised to nearly trip over a smallish wooden box on her doorstep. It was shaped like a pirate's treasure chest, with brass joints and fittings. When she lifted the lid, a single Iris bloom lay at the bottom, with a note. Plucking the note from underneath the delicate flower, Rachel read it.

The Iris symbolizes HOPE, Rachel. Please talk to me. I miss you, and I love you. Here's to hope. Without it, we have nothing.

Sam

Rachel picked up the box, and tucked it under her arm, stifling the whirlwind of emotions constantly just below the surface of the carefully constructed façade she'd built this week.

"Sophie, go put away your new things. I'm going to be in my room for a bit, then I'll scrounge around and find something for dinner, okay?"

"Jees, Mom. I'm not the least bit hungry."

Deflated, and at a loss for a purpose for the afternoon, Rachel responded, "Well, let me know…"

She walked down the hall to her bedroom, tiny chest under her arm, and threw herself on her bed.

Why wouldn't he just leave her alone? She couldn't forget him, if he was everywhere she went. She wished she'd never met him. Then she never would have lost him, and she wouldn't know what she'd been missing all this time.

These thoughts were futile, and she knew it, but she'd been crushing them down for so long. Rachel finally decided to just let them happen. To relive the night again, without holding back, to feel all the emotions again. Maybe then, she could get some closure and put all this behind her. She had to move on.

Taking the flower out of the box, she fingered the delicate petals, feeling the smooth softness of them tickle her skin. She ran the bloom across her face and neck, smelling the subtle scent, as it wafted across her senses. Rachel imagined that it was Sam, running the flower across her skin, then his hands, then his lips.

Recollections of Sam's hot mouth on her skin took Rachel's breath away, and she succumbed to the sensations the memory evoked. Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't immediately realize her phone was ringing, until her oversensitive flesh felt the vibrations buzzing on her hip bone.

"Hello?" She answered, a little out of breath, not looking at the caller ID.

"Did I interrupt something?" Sam's voice was husky, completely knocking her out of her daydream.

"No. What do you need?" Rachel tried to get to the point of his call, she didn't mean to answer it. She didn't want to talk to him.