Reinventing Rachel (11 page)

She was halfway through the intersection when the truck roared to life. “No!” she shouted, pouring on what little energy she had left. The truck pulled away from the curb, and she waved her hands like a madwoman as she stared at the driver. As they passed her she saw the driver was on his cell and the passenger was studying a map. Neither of them saw her as they blew past, and she stood gasping on the parkway.

It’s just a bed. It’s just a bed.
She chanted to herself as she limped the rest of the distance to the house and hauled herself up the stairs. Yanking the “Sorry we missed you!” notice off the door, she let herself in and collapsed on the couch that would be her bed for at least one more night.

Daphne couldn’t help it. She had to go to work. It’s just a bed. How could she know how close they were?
She sat for a few minutes before pushing herself to her feet and going to the kitchen for some water.

She made herself a sandwich, and shortly after eating it, she felt ready to make the trek back to work.

“You look like you just ran a marathon,” Jack said as she took her place behind the counter.

“Close.” Rachel told him what happened.

Jack shook his head. “That sucks. I’m sorry. You know, I have a pickup. If you’re not busy after we get off I could drive you over there and pick it up for you.”

Her heart swelled. “Are you serious?”

“Sure. We could get dinner, too, if you want—you work until five, right?”

“Right.”

“So we’ll need to eat anyway. Will the mattress store still be open?”

“Until eight, I think.”

“Great—works for me if it works for you.”

“It definitely works for me. You’re a lifesaver. My neck and back thank you.”

They fell back into their routine, and as she made sandwiches and drinks she found herself developing a real crush on Jack. Her thoughts returned to Daphne’s theory of rebound dating, and she found herself beginning to see the draw of it.

The lunch rush was half over when they were joined by a member of the next shift and Rachel met her competition for Jack.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Leah.” She looked exotic. She oozed friendly. And judging by the ichthus necklace, she was a Christian.

Rachel took a deep breath and fixed a smile on her face. “Nice to meet you, too.” She turned back to the drink she was making and tried to send out an alpha female vibe.

Either the vibe didn’t work or Leah simply didn’t care. She grabbed a cup and began to make a Maggie Mae Mocha. “I’m so glad R. J. found someone. It’s been tough here with the staff being so slim. I’ve been part-part-time because of my class schedule and other stuff, but I’ve been trying to put in extra hours whenever I can to help out. But I haven’t been here in a week. How you doing, Jack?”

Jack had finished ringing up customers and was setting himself up at the sandwich counter. “Hey, Leah, I’m good. You?”

“Good!”

“So how has your first day gone, Rachel?”

“Fine, thanks. I managed a place like this back in California, so I haven’t had too much trouble.” Rachel tried not to sound like she was bragging while still asserting confidence.

“Oh wow, that’s great! Maybe you’ll be able to help take some of the managerial pressure off Ruby Jean, then. Did she talk to you about being a manager?”

Leah didn’t seem as intimidated as Rachel had hoped. “She mentioned something about it. After I’ve been here a few months.”

“Awesome!” She gave Rachel another perky smile, then keyed her code in to the register and began ringing up more customers. Rachel moved beside her and held out her hand for the cup she was marking, intent on showing her she could keep up with the orders.

Rachel’s mind did not stay on the espresso machine, however. It was on The Moment of Truth, the time when Leah would ask The Question, try to initiate The Conversation, and Rachel would be forced to admit that she not only knew a lot about Christianity, but she had been a devout one until recently. Rachel knew how the game was played. She’d done it with new employees, new neighbors, customers she’d known for a long time. Leah’s wheels were likely already turning. Rachel would never be just another coworker, or just her manager, or just her friend. She’d be that Lost Soul Who Needs Jesus. Like Julia had been to her, Rachel would be Leah’s project. Rachel could just imagine Leah’s prayers before bed that night as she journaled in her cloth-covered notebook—she was definitely the cloth-covered notebook type.
Thank you for the opportunity to work with Rachel, Father! Please give me an opportunity to tell her about you.
She’d never think to pray for them to just be friends. Which was just as well, since Rachel wasn’t about to repopulate her social circle with the kinds of people she’d left California to avoid.

She handed off another drink and picked up the next cup. As she tamped the grounds into the portafilter, she shot a glance at Jack, who was putting together a turkey sandwich. Now
he
was the kind of person Rachel wanted to get to know. Friendly, chivalrous, attractive—and a great kisser. She wondered if Leah had tried working her conversion charm on him yet.

Leah finished ringing up customers and began to clean up the mess Rachel made at the base of the espresso machine as Rachel put the finishing touches on a chai latte. Her conscience cringed as she watched Leah from the corner of her eye. She was aware of the fact that she was doing the very thing she’d just condemned in her head—not liking Leah for who she was—but without the religious motivation. Old habits really were hard to break.

She handed the drink to the waiting customer, then took a deep breath and summoned her inner Daphne.
Live and let live. Tolerance to all. So what if she’s a religious freak? It’s a free country. I’ll show her I can be just as nice and friendly as she is, without a hidden agenda.
She grabbed a stack of cups from the side counter and restocked the supply next to the machine. “Thanks for clearing my station, Leah; I appreciate it.”

“Oh, not a problem. Man, you’re fast with the drinks. I’m impressed!”

“Oh, thanks. Just had a lot of practice, that’s all.” The three of them dodged around each other as they refilled coffee pots and cleaned countertops between customers, chatting and joking all the while. Not wanting to be stuck on drink duty forever, Rachel excused herself after a bit to ask Ruby Jean if someone could train her on the register before the next rush. Ruby Jean roped Jack into the task, and for a while Rachel’s mind was too preoccupied to wander.

Late in the afternoon a cluster of five collegiate-looking types walked in and called to Leah as she cleaned the sandwich station. “Hey guys,” she said, then leaned over the counter to kiss one of the preppy boys in the front. Rachel found herself breathing a sigh of relief.

Leah chatted with the group as she started marking cups with everyone’s orders. Rachel wasn’t eavesdropping, but her ears still picked up “worship service” and “Bible study” from the conversation they were murmuring at the register. She glanced at Jack, who caught her eye, looked to the group, then back at Rachel with a roll of his eyes. Rachel smirked. She shouldn’t have been so concerned about Leah stealing Jack—girls like her would never date a non-Christian. Oh well. Leah’s loss.

o

After Jack and Rachel punched out together he led her to his F-250 in the back parking lot. “Thanks again,” she said as they pulled out to the street. “You’re saving my back from a week’s worth of chiropractic appointments—which is good, since I don’t even have a chiropractor yet.”

“Glad I could help. It’s not often I get to play the knight in shining armor.”

“So, I’m starving. What did you have in mind for dinner?”

He laughed. “A woman after my own heart.” He sped through a yellow light and swerved into the right lane for the next turn. “Have you had any proper Chicago-style pizza yet?”

Rachel nodded. “Back in California. There are a few restaurants that do deep-dish pizza. That’s what you mean, right?”

“Well … I don’t think I’d trust Californians to know what they’re doing when it comes to authentic Chicago deep-dish.”

She smiled. “I didn’t know it was such a specific recipe.”

“Oh yes. There are two distinct styles—stuffed and deep dish—and about four different chains out here that insist they’re doing it the true Chicago way. We’ll have to make sure you try them all so you can make an informed opinion.”

“Well, I would hate to be accused of ignorance when it came to pizza. Where shall we start?”

The restaurant was called Edwardo’s, home of Jack’s favorite, the spinach-stuffed pizza. By the time they entered the foyer after lugging all the various parts of Rachel’s bed up to the apartment, she thought she’d faint from the heavenly smell. Their waitress set down a basket of what looked like thin pizza dough baked and broken into pieces when she brought their sodas. “This is croccante,” Jack said as he grabbed a handful. “It’s really addicting, so don’t ruin your appetite.”

“Not a chance—I’m running on fumes right now. I might even have room for dessert, I’m that hungry.”

He shook his head. “You won’t want dessert, trust me. The pizza will take every spare inch of room you have.”

Their conversation followed the typical style of first-date Q and A, but with a weird undertone of intimacy Rachel could only assume stemmed from the fact that they’d already kissed. He had a sister and lived on the other side of the university from Rachel and Daphne. He’d gone to Indiana University and graduated with a degree in athletic training. “Do you play any sports, or just want to treat people who do?” Rachel asked.

He made a face. “Well, I used to. I pitched baseball in high school and for three years in college, but then I tore my flexor mass muscle and ulnar collateral ligament.” He traced a finger along the inside of his elbow and Rachel winced.

“Oh no, that’s awful.”

He nodded. “Yeah, it was. Threw me for a loop, because I’d been hoping to go pro eventually. There were a couple scouts showing interest my junior year, but once I had the surgery I just couldn’t perform anymore. A psychological thing, I think.” He shrugged and popped some more croccante in his mouth. Rachel caught a vibe that told her the subject was closed, which was confirmed when he said, “So how about you? Did you go to college in California?”

“Yep.”

“And? Where?”

She waved her hand. “A little college you probably wouldn’t have heard of. It’s private.”

“The information or the school?”

She laughed. “The school. And, I suppose, the information. For now, anyway.”

He grinned. “You women … always with your mystery.”

She wagged her eyebrows but said nothing. He laughed. “Can you tell me what you majored in, or is that classified as well?”

Rachel grinned. “Secondary education, minored in history.”

“High school teacher? That’s brave. What made you decide to sling coffee instead?”

“Just couldn’t find a job. Then I got promoted to manager and … here I am.”

“Lucky us.”

Rachel felt her cheeks redden and steered the conversation to a less personal topic. But by the time Jack drove her home, with a new favorite pizza and the promise of a second date, she’d begun to think she was the lucky one.

Things were finally looking up.

o

“I saw your bed!” Daphne said when Rachel walked in. “I’m so glad you made it back here in time! I’m so sorry; Paul totally pulled rank on me.” Daphne tacked on a couple choice names for him to show just how mad she was as she pulled Rachel into an apologetic hug.

“Well, actually, I didn’t make it back in time. But it’s okay because I got a date out of it.”

Daphne let out a squeal and pulled Rachel to the couch with a command to divulge every detail. Apparently kissing and telling was a standard in Daphne’s world. Rachel told her everything, from his sweet apology for kissing her in Vegas to meeting Leah, which had Daphne fascinated.

“It’s like you’re a double agent or something. You know all her tactics! How does it feel?”

“Weird, honestly. I mean, you’re right, it’s like I know what the motivation will be behind certain conversations or questions. But really it just makes me sad to think that I was like that for so long, that I saw everyone as a target and not just as a person.”