Reinventing Rachel (29 page)

Rachel cradled her chin in her palm. “Wow. That’s, um … interesting.”

“It’s huge—that’s what it is. Your view of God, and correct me if I’m wrong, was that you did everything by the book, so God should have had your back. You did everything right, and therefore your obedience deserved to be rewarded.”

Rachel’s eyes went wide. “Exactly.”

“Well, what if God really
was
there when everything went down, but his reaction wasn’t what you expected, so you thought that meant he wasn’t there—or that, if he
was
there, he didn’t care.”

Rachel frowned, thinking. “Well, okay, but … that doesn’t seem any better. To say that he was there but just didn’t respond …”

“I never said he didn’t respond. I just said it was possible that he
did
respond, but not in the way you thought he should.”

Rachel sat back, her eyes rolling heavenward. “That
still
isn’t any better. How else should you respond when someone is going through a crisis? It seems to me that stepping in and helping would be the best reaction, so what does it say about God that he didn’t?”

Leah chewed her lip for a second, her brow furrowed. Her words came slowly as she responded. “I think we tend to assume God is silent, or absent somehow, when he doesn’t respond the way we think he should … when in reality, he’s working in the background, orchestrating and preparing and doing who knows what else to take care of us. But we don’t see that—we don’t know what he’s doing—and so we think he’s not doing anything at all.” She shifted in her seat. “It’s like—think of a child, and how a child doesn’t always understand why his parents discipline him the way they do. The child doesn’t necessarily see past the reality of, say, something sharp being taken away—all he knows is that he wants it and his parents won’t let him have it. He doesn’t recognize that getting what he wants might hurt him.” She spoke more quickly, engaged in her explanation. “Or if they discipline him for being rude—he can’t reason the way they can and understand that, by not allowing him to act a certain way, they’re training his character and helping him grow into a respectable adult.” She nodded, looking pleased with her analogy. “I think God is more concerned with our sanctification than in our earthly comfort, and sanctification is hard to come by when life is easy. Hence the need for the ‘refiner’s fire,’ as they say.”

“So … so he let everything happen because he thought it would make me grow?”

Leah smiled. “I can’t speak for God, but I think it’s a reasonable possibility.”

Rachel let out a snort. “How is a cheating fiancé, alcohol abuse, and a stint in the mental ward growth?”

“Well, it’s brought you to a place where you’re analyzing your relationship with him, right? To a place where you’re realizing that what you had before wasn’t a relationship of intimacy and faith, but of checklists and obligations?” Leah quirked a brow. “Sounds like growth to me.”

Rachel opened her mouth to retort, but none came. She thought about her faith before May, about her relationship with God and what it had been like for the last twenty years. She’d been devoted, yes, but to a system. She’d loved God, but in the same distanced and dispassionate way that she loved other concepts, like freedom of speech. Save for that mission trip to Brazil, she’d never felt his presence or felt any kind of real connection, and the connection she
did
feel in Brazil faded once she got back to her Orange County life. Her amazement over God’s love had been stirred by heart-tugging worship songs, but when simply thinking about his love, she’d end up wondering what exactly that felt like. She’d always wished she would sense him more, and often prayed God would draw her to him—was that what he had been trying to do when everything fell apart?

“Okay, so, assuming you’re right that He didn’t abandon me, then what does that mean? I wasn’t supposed to be mad about what happened in California? I was just supposed to grin and bear it?”

Leah quickly shook her head. “Oh, no, I don’t think God wants us to stuff our emotions. What happened was awful, and I’m sure he thought so too.” Her mouth twitched to the side as she thought. “I can’t think of the references right now, but I know that we’re told a couple times in the New Testament to praise God for all things, give thanks in every circumstance, that sort of thing.”

A song lyric bubbled to the surface of Rachel’s mind. “Sort of like, ‘I will praise you in the storm’?”

“Right.” Leah snapped her fingers. “Oh! One’s in Ephesians: ‘Always giving thanks to God the Father in everything.’”

Thank God all this happened? Patrick’s betrayal, Barbara’s admission, her parent’s divorce, Daphne’s death, her addiction … she cataloged all that had happened and tried unsuccessfully to imagine being thankful for it. “Thanking God feels a bit masochistic.”

Leah chuckled. “I don’t think he means it that way. I think it’s more like, ‘Thank you for the fact that, when life sucks, I still have you to turn to,’ and ‘Thank you for the chance this gives you to grow me and show your power.’”

“So … maybe this was one of those ‘God works good from evil’ kinds of situations?”

“Could be. Like it says in Romans, in everything God works for the good of those who love him.”

Leah sat back and sipped her soda, giving Rachel the time she needed to process. Finally, Rachel ventured a response. “So … if it’s true that he wasn’t up there stonewalling me, and he didn’t actually leave me … then running to him now wouldn’t be like running back to someone who hurt me.” She felt a jolt of pleasant surprise. “Maybe I still have a shot at the relationship I thought I had.”

“No, not the relationship you thought you had. A
better
one. A real one. A relationship, period. All you had before was what
you
thought was a mutual arrangement—you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. I’ll obey you and do all these things I think I’m supposed to do, and in return you’ll help me out when I need it.” Leah shook her head. “That’s not a relationship at all.”

Rachel was silent. She had no idea what to say. But the longer she sat with the ideas, letting them steep in her mind, the more she thought Leah might actually be on to something.

o

Leah was getting ready to leave when she got an almost shy look on her face. “So, hey, I have something to ask you.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Well, you know how I’m doing this house church with Declan, right?”

Hearing his name made Rachel’s insides flip. “Um, yes.”

“Well, we’ve been praying for you ever since Jack told us what happened. And we all feel like God is prompting us to help you.”

“Help me?” Rachel didn’t like the sound of that.

“Nothing weird,” Leah said quickly. “Just … with whatever you need to do in regards to your roommate’s belongings, finding a new roommate, and—”

Rachel sat down hard on the sofa she’d just stood up from. “Oh my gosh. I never thought of that. All her stuff—do her parents even know? I can’t believe this—they might not know.” She hung her head into her hands and groaned. “And I don’t think the management company even knows I live here. I never signed a lease. I just gave Daphne my share of the rent every month.”

Rachel felt Leah’s hand on her shoulder. “This is what I’m talking about. Let us help you. No strings attached. Please?”

What choice did she have? She was still so worn out, so mentally and emotionally shaky, she had a hard time concentrating on little things like what to eat. The tasks before her felt monumental. “Okay.”

“Cool.” Leah squeezed her shoulder. “So how do you feel about the rest of your night? Are you all right being alone tonight?”

“I’ve been trying not to think too much about it.”

“If you want company, I’d be happy to sleep over.”

Rachel eyed Leah. “It’s the world’s most uncomfortable couch.”

Leah grinned. “I have an excellent chiropractor.”

“You’d really do that?”

“Absolutely.”

Rachel hung her head again with a sigh. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed, seriously. Knowing that Daphne … just right out there … heck, I’d be afraid to sleep alone here and I didn’t even see it happen.”

Rachel gave Leah a small smile. “Thank you.”

“You’ve got it. And look, you’re not playing hostess or anything, okay? Do your own thing, even if that means locking yourself in your room from now until morning. I don’t care, seriously. I’ll go home in a bit and get my stuff and just set myself up here in the living room.”

Rachel rubbed a hand over her face. “When do you work tomorrow?”

“I have the afternoon shift, so if you want to start tackling things in the morning, we can do that together. And I’ll call the others and let them know what’s going on. They can come over or not, it’s up to you—whatever you’re comfortable with. They’re all eager to help in whatever way they can.”

“And why is that, exactly? I don’t know any of them, other than Declan.”

Leah shrugged and smiled. “Because that’s what the body of Christ does.”

Chapter 21

Rachel thought it might be difficult to sleep that night, but once her head hit her own pillow, she was out. When she woke in the morning, she stayed in her bed for far longer than necessary, enjoying the feel of the clean, soft sheets and the absence of a roommate and intrusive nurses.

The sounds of conversation occasionally floated in from the living room where Leah had spent the night. Rachel heard the front door open and shut twice; she recognized Declan’s voice and but not the other two. The thought of Declan in her apartment made her curl up under the covers even longer. She was still embarrassed by her actions the night they had kissed, and despite the fact that she was now single and available to take him up on his offer, she knew this would not be a good time for her to attempt another relationship.

She got bored of the bed after an hour of lounging and knew she should go out and meet the people who were so willing to help her. She pulled some clothes from her dresser and snuck out to the bathroom without anyone seeing her. She luxuriated in a long hot shower that was uninterrupted by a nurse calling that her time was up, and took her time getting dressed before going out for the breakfast she could smell through the door. She was guessing pancakes, though whatever it was would definitely be better than what she’d had the last few mornings.

“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.”