Plan (10 page)

Wednesday dawned bright and clear, but Rachel's head was as a fuzzy as a teddy bear. It wasn't until she looked at the calendar that the significance of the date hit her. Today was her birthday. Her thirtieth birthday. Rachel suddenly felt the need to sit down. She didn't feel thirty. How was it possible? Her reverie was broken by the shrill ring of the telephone.

“Hello.”

“Hi, sweetheart. How's the birthday girl?” Rachel moaned inwardly. Her mother's cheery voice was the last thing she needed to hear this morning.

“I'm fine, Mom.”

“Well, you don't sound fine.”

“I just got up. I'm still a little groggy.”

“Well, get up and at 'em. Today's your day. I just wanted to make sure what time you eat lunch.”

“Why?” Rachel questioned.

“Because it's your birthday and I'm going to take you to lunch.”

“Mom, you don't have to do that. A phone call is all that's necessary.” Rachel prayed that her mother would take the hint. No such luck.

“Don't be silly. I can't let you celebrate your birthday alone. I'll meet you at the school at noon in the lobby.”

“Mom, you really don't have to come all the way up here. Really. I'm fine.”

“Now, that's enough. It's already decided. I'll see you at twelve. Bye.”

The phone clicked before Rachel could open her mouth again. She sank back into the chair and gave her moan full vocal range. A birthday dinner. Just what she needed. Dragging herself back to the bathroom, she took her time getting dressed for work.

The day went from bad to worse. By the time her first class was over, she was ready to go home and back to bed. It started with an innocent remark made by an unsuspecting student. It was about twenty minutes before the end of class, and Rachel had decided to let them out early so that she could get this birthday lunch over with as soon as possible.

“Since it's my birthday, I'm letting class go early today,” Rachel said. Cheers and applause broke out across the room.

“How old are you?” Steven asked. “Thirty-four or thirty-five?”

Rachel had turned to clean the blackboard, but stopped in midswipe and stared at the board. Without looking
around she ground out, “I'm thirty, thank you very
much.”

Several of the students booed Steven. One even cuffed the side of his head as they headed out of the classroom. Steven stopped at her desk on his way out.

“Sorry about that, Ms. Grant. You look good for your age.” She whirled around as he tried to dig his way out of the situation. “I mean. . .I mean you. . .I'm sorry.” He looked pitiful, but Rachel was in no mood to be kind. She just stared him down. He backed his way out of the room saying, “I'm sorry” so many times that she thought she would scream.

After that, she went into the faculty restroom and took a good long look in the mirror. She didn't see any wrinkles or crow's feet, but her eyes were puffy and her make-up looked smeared. She tried to fix it, but ended up making it look caked on instead. Rachel was about to leave when something shiny caught her eye. At first she thought it was a piece of tinsel, but a second glance showed a silvery hair mixed in with the brown. She yanked it out and stared at it. Not another one. She stared in disbelief at the mirror. A closer inspection showed several more scattered throughout. She was too young to have gray hair. Make that silver hair. This stuff glowed in the dark.

A glance at her watch sent her scurrying toward the lobby. The last thing she needed was a lecture on being late. She had spent way too much time staring into the mirror. Rachel entered the lobby just as the bell tower struck the noon hour. She spotted her mother sitting on a couch in the corner, her foot tapping time. Taking a deep breath, Rachel steeled herself and crossed the room, all the while repeating, “Stay calm” to herself.

“Hi, Mom.” She plastered a smile to her face and accepted a hug.

“Hi, dear. How's the birthday girl?” Her mom's voice was a little too perky.

“You already asked me that, but I'm fine. Where do you want to go for lunch?” Rachel asked.

“That's up to you. It's your birthday.”

“Fine. Let's go to The Magnolia.”

“The Magnolia? Isn't that the little restaurant here on campus?”

“Yes it is. Is that a problem?” Rachel ground out.

“Well, no. If that's where you really want to go, then let's go. I just thought you might want to go to a nice restaurant downtown.”

“I like The Magnolia and it's close. Traffic is bad this time of day.”

“Fine. Fine,” her mom replied. Rachel could tell she was disappointed, but it was her choice and she had made it. For once her mother would just have to accept it. “Let's go, then.” She said it with a smile, but Rachel could tell that her mom was playing the sacrificial lamb to the hilt.

The walk across the quad was filled with idle chatter, mostly from her mom. Edna Grant could be quite a gossip. She knew more about the school and the community events than the people involved in them, and she was determined to tell Rachel all of it before they reached the restaurant. They ordered and then took the trays to a table near the corner. Edna was still spouting gossip like a perpetual water fountain even as they sat down. Rachel was so lost in her own thoughts that she was startled to hear Randy's voice.

“I thought I saw you come in.” She could feel the warmth of his hand on her shoulder. She turned to answer him, but nothing came out. His face was only inches from hers. Her mother answered for her.

“I don't believe we've met. I'm Edna Grant, Rachel's mother.” She held out her hand and Randy took it with a smile.

“It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Grant.”

“Call me Edna.”

“Edna.” He nodded. “I'll let you two ladies get back to your lunch.”

“Oh, please stay,” Edna begged. “It's Rachel's birthday, and it would be so nice to have some of her friends here. More like a party. I rarely get to meet her friends from here.” To Rachel's ears it sounded more like an accusation than an invitation, but then again, she was used to it.

“Why don't you stay, Randy?” Rachel gave him smile and patted the seat between them. She wasn't sure whether it was a good idea or not. His presence might tame her mother's tongue, but on the other hand, it might just be more embarrassing. Either way, she didn't want to be rude to Randy.

“Well, if you put it that way, I'll go get my tray.” He looked as uncertain as Rachel felt. He returned in a moment with his food and sat down between them.

“Randy is it?” her mother asked. It was just her way of forcing out more details.

“Dr. Randall Harris, this is my mother, Edna Grant. Mom, this is Dr. Harris.”

“Randy is fine,” he replied.

“So what do you do, Randy?” her mother inquired.

“I'm an English professor.”

“Well, how did you meet Rachel?”

“Mom,” Rachel complained, “we're not playing
twenty
questions. Let him eat his lunch.” Rachel smiled an
apology at Randy.

“I just wanted to get to know your friends a little better,” her mother admonished.

The rest of lunch was spent in idle chitchat with Randy bearing the brunt of the conversation. Edna was sulking, and Rachel couldn't seem to think of anything to say. Randy finished lunch in record time and then made his excuses.

“It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Grant. Happy birthday, Rachel.” He brushed her shoulders with his fingertips and then disappeared. She wished she could disappear like a magician's assistant.

“Well, I hope you're satisfied with yourself, young lady,” her mother huffed.

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked the question, but she already knew the answer.

“A nice, eligible man and you sit there like a knot on a log. How do you ever expect to catch a husband by cowering in a corner?”

“Mother, finding someone to spend the rest of your life with is not like picking out melons at the grocery store. It takes time. Besides, I'm not trying to catch Randy,” she lied. The last thing she was going to do was to give her mother the satisfaction of knowing she had been dumped again. “He's got a gorgeous girlfriend and he's moving away after this semester.”

There she had said it, but it still hurt to hear the words out loud. She had to face facts. He was involved with someone else, and he was planning to move to be closer to her. Rachel's mother was still fuming silently. Rachel could imagine wisps of smoke coming out her ears and nostrils, just like a steam engine. The image brought an unexpected smile to her face which only made Edna angrier.

“What are you smiling at? Do you like making me miserable? Hmmm? Well, the joke's on you. You're the one who's going to spend the rest of her life alone.” Edna grabbed her purse with a flourish and left a wounded Rachel alone at the table.

She knew she should go after her mother, but she didn't have the strength left to fight. She was an old maid and she might as well get used to the idea. She tried to think of the positive side of being independent, like freedom to do whatever she wanted. Yet, hard as she tried, nothing could take away the knot in her stomach or the lethargy that seemed to be taking over her body. All she wanted to do was go home and go to bed.

That wasn't to be. On her way out, she almost ran into Randy and Kathryn in the parking lot. She was curled onto his arm like a parasitic vine. Rachel mentally slapped herself for the thought. It wasn't the woman's fault that she was beautiful and could have any man she wanted, while an old maid like herself only attracted jerks and morons. She waited behind the shrubs until they got into his car and pulled away.

Rachel tried to shake her gloomy mood on the ride home, but those ugly phrases kept coming back to her.
Are you thirty-four or thirty-five? You're going to end up all alone.
By the time she pulled into her parking space, the tears were just below the surface. She made it into her apartment before she embarrassed herself completely. Ten minutes of uncontrolled tears and sobbing only gave her a headache instead of the release of her frustrations.

She flipped over on her side to reach for the tissues on her nightstand, but found instead her Bible which was buried under a stack of books. It had been a while since she had really read her Bible, or prayed, for that matter. She held the leather volume in her hands and prayed for help. She didn't know what else to pray. Then she flipped the Bible open at random and started reading the thirty-seventh chapter of Isaiah. It was about how King Hezekiah was being threatened by the Assyrians who
had conquered many peoples. The Assyrian spokes-man, Rabshakeh, said that God could not protect them.
Hezekiah was depressed and frightened, but he went to the Lord with his fears. Rachel realized that her situation was very similar. She was being attacked by words and her own fears. She needed to trust in God, that He would never leave her alone. He would always be there. She looked back down, and the words of verse six leaped off the page. “Be not afraid of the words that thou hast heard. . .” In that instant, Rachel knew the Lord was speaking to her. Don't believe the words of others. Believe the word of God. He had always been faithful before, and He would be faithful again.

She marked the verse with a slip of paper, then closed the Bible. She hugged it to herself and prayed for guidance. God had something planned for her life, but maybe it wasn't the plans that she had made for herself.

“What should I do?” Rachel prayed.

“If any man has ought against you, go and make it right.”

Mother.
Rachel rebelled at the thought. Mother should come to her. She was the one who started it all. She was always putting Rachel down and making her feel unlovable. But that still, small voice wouldn't leave her head. Rachel knew that she would have to confront her mother. They had to settle this once and for all or she would never know true peace. Rachel bowed her head and asked for strength and guidance. Tomorrow after class, she would go home and try to make her understand.

Rachel went to bed that night with the knowledge that things were out of her hands. God was in control and He would do what was best for everybody. For the first night in forever, she fell into a deep, restful sleep.

On the long drive down, Rachel tried to think of what to say to her mother, what approach to take. Anything she said was bound to make her angry or hurt. She kept tossing scenarios around in her mind, but all of them ended in a fight. She prayed with her eyes open, knowing that God would have to give her the words today or she would surely louse things up.

Her mother's car was in the driveway, so at least she was home. Rachel wasn't sure if she was happy or disappointed. Her stomach felt like a huge knot, and her mouth was so dry that she couldn't swallow. She took a deep breath and went inside, knocking gently as she opened the door.

“Mama, are you here? It's me. Rachel.” She heard a muffled voice from the kitchen and followed the sound. “Mama?”

When she pushed the door open, her mother jumped back with a cry, her hand over her heart. Then she reached for a chair and released a sigh.

“Rachel, don't ever sneak up on your mother that way. You nearly gave me a heart attack. You of all people should know better than to walk in unannounced in a lady's house, especially one who lives alone.” She pulled out a chair and sat down, taking a moment to
catch her breath. “If I had a gun, I could have killed
you.”

“Mama, you don't own a gun, and you don't know how to shoot one anyway,” Rachel replied, taking the seat opposite her mother. Just like enemies at the bargaining table.

“Well, it's the principle of the thing.” She straightened an imaginary wrinkle out of the tablecloth. Rachel could tell she was still angry about yesterday and was waiting for an apology.

“I didn't mean to scare you, Mother. I knocked, but you didn't answer. If you're so worried about someone breaking in, maybe you should lock the door.” She could see her mother's back tensing, just like a cat about to attack. She had better back up and start over or they would be fighting again. “I just wanted to talk to you about yesterday.”

“What about it? Did you come to yell some more?”

“I wanted to apologize for yelling, but I also want to clear the air about why I was so upset.”

Her mother's shoulders relaxed a fraction, but she still wouldn't look Rachel in the eye. At least she was listening.

“Mama, what you said yesterday hurt me.” That got her attention. Her mother turned with her mouth open wide. “Wait. Let me finish.” Rachel looked down at the table and rolled the end of the tablecloth. “You make it sound like nobody would want me.”

“I said no such thing.”

“No, but you imply it by the way you are constantly thrusting guys at me, like I can't find my own boyfriend.”

“That's because you never do.”

“Mother, I don't want to rush into anything. I want to take my time and make sure I find the right guy. I'd rather be single than to be married and miserable,” Rachel replied.

“That's fine, but you never go out. You sit at home
alone or spend all your time at work. How are you ever
going to meet someone just sitting at home?” her
mother asked, exasperation evident in every word.

“When the time is right, God will put the right man in my path.”

“Well, can't God use me to do that?”

“I guess so, but He hasn't,” Rachel replied. “Besides, it's the way you do it, Mother. Tricking me into dates with guys I don't want to have anything to do with.”

“What are you talking about? Dale is a nice young man and you barely gave him a chance. It takes time to get to know someone.”

“Dale wasn't interested in getting to know me,
Mother,” Rachel ground out. “He had his mind on one thing, and it didn't require conversation.”

The light came on in her mother's eyes. “Do you mean he tried to. . .that he. . .” Her mouth clamped shut. “That. . .that. . .oh, how dare he?” Rachel was surprised at the anger in her mother's voice. “He didn't hurt you, did he?”

“No.” Rachel was a little confused. “No. I told him off the first time.”

“That's why you wouldn't go with him for dessert.” She looked at Rachel, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Why didn't you tell me this earlier?”

“I don't know. I guess I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? You didn't do anything wrong,” she fumed. “Just wait till I get my hands on that boy.”

“No, Mother. Just let it go. I just want to forget about him,” Rachel cried. She smoothed the wrinkles in the tablecloth. “Besides, he's just like so many of the other guys.”

“Not all men are like that, Rachel.” Her mother
reached across the table and patted her hand. Rachel looked up into her mother's eyes and for once there was no condemnation, no frustration. Only love. “The reason why I push you so much is that I don't want you to be alone. I know what it's like. I also know what it's like to share your life with someone you love. Your father was a wonderful man, and I miss him.” She wiped the tears from her eyes.

“But, Mom, don't you see? That's the kind of relationship I want. I don't want to settle for the first guy that comes along,” Rachel whispered.

“I don't want you to settle, Rachel. But, I don't want you to never try because you're afraid. You have to risk getting hurt to find true love.”

Rachel spent the rest of the day with her mother. They talked about old times and looked at pictures of her father. For the first time in a long time, they talked like friends. Rachel left for Myerstown with a refreshed spirit and a peace she hadn't known in a long time.