Reinventing Rachel (12 page)

“It sucks, doesn’t it?”

Her words hit home. “Daphne, I’m so sorry I was like that with you. I mean, I think it was a little different with us, because we’d known each other for so long and really were friends. But I know that I was pushy with you over religion. Thanks for not dumping me.”

Daphne laughed and wrapped Rachel in another hug. “It’s okay, really. You and your family were there for me more than anyone else my whole life, and it was kind of sweet, in a way, to know you cared so much about my immortal soul.” Her eyes twinkled. “But it’s fun knowing you’re on my side now.” She stood and made a grand gesture toward the kitchen. “And so we shall toast! To your first date as a new woman with a new life and a new attitude.” She made a dash for the pantry, then rummaged for a moment before extracting a bottle of vodka.

Rachel was excited at the prospect of a drink. “What are we having this time?”

“Vodka and Coke. Vodka is my personal fave for mixed drinks.” A generous amount of vodka was poured into one glass, and then a modest splash into the other. “We’ll start you off slow.” She topped both with Coke and handed a tumbler to Rachel and raised hers with a flourish. “To Rachel and her day of firsts—first day of work, first encounter with a Christian, and her first date. Oh, and her first vodka! May all the rest of your firsts go as smoothly.”

They clinked their glasses, and Rachel tried not to look too eager as she took her first sip. “This tastes good.”

“What did I tell you?” Daphne finished off her tumbler and took out another Coke. “Here, finish yours and I’ll give you a stronger one.”

Rachel swallowed the rest and Daphne concocted another one, this time adding about as much vodka into it as she did into hers.

“You don’t have to have another one, Daph.”

“Of course I do! I’m not gonna let you drink alone!” She gave Rachel a crinkly-nosed grin and handed her the tumbler. “Try that.”

She took a sip and was hit quickly with the taste of alcohol. “Whoa.”

“Too strong?”

“Well …” She took another sip, slightly longer than the first. Warmth spread through her stomach and her throat twinged. “Not
too
strong, but I definitely can’t drink this as quickly as I did the first one.”

“No reason to pound it down anyway. What shall we do now?” She tapped a finger to her chin in classic Daphne style. “Oh! Let’s go put the sheets on your bed and admire your room all put together. You’ll need somewhere to crash if the alkie does you in.”

Rachel laughed. “What, don’t think I’ll be able to handle it?”

“Well … I didn’t say that. I’ll bet you have a stomach of steel after all those years of milk and coffee.”

They tossed more verbal jabs as they unpacked the sheets from Rachel’s suitcase. Her tumbler was drained in three minutes, and not long after Rachel noticed she had started to feel strange.

“Hey.” She turned her head from left to right. “When I do this, it’s like the world isn’t keeping up with my eyes.” She turned again and her vision blurred along for a second before snapping into place.

Daphne giggled. “You look like you’re watching a tennis match in slow-motion.”

“I … hey now.” Her mouth was working in slow motion too, it seemed. “You gave me a lot of vvvodka.”

“Wow.” Daphne’s tone was one of wonder. “It’s really getting to you. Your stomach isn’t made of steel at all. Do you feel sick?”

“Sick? No. Not sick. Just … slow.”

“Well, that’s good.” She gave Rachel’s knee a pat. “You’ll build up a tolerance—don’t worry.”

Rachel let out an accidental snort, which sent her into a fit of giggles, which sent Daphne into a similar state.

Still laughing, Daphne said, “Now. I still need dinner, so—”

“Wait—you had two drinks on an empty stomach?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Wow.
You
have a stomach of steel.”

“And buns, too, but not for the same reason.”

It took Rachel a minute to process the joke, but when she did her laughter shook the bed.

“I’m going to make a sandwich. Want anything?”

“No. You wouldn’t believe how much pizza I ate tonight.”

Daphne left for the kitchen. Rachel stared at the ceiling as it seemed to slowly rotate, and after a while her stomach felt like it was rotating too. Fifteen minutes later she was, as Daphne put it, making her first sacrifice to the porcelain gods.

“Don’t worry—it gets easier,” Daphne assured her as she trudged back to her bed. Her words weren’t the comfort she probably meant them to be.

Chapter 12

July brought Rachel to the end of her first month in Chicago. The oppressive heat drove customers into All Together Now in record numbers, even with the majority of the university population missing for the summer. Her paychecks were hard-earned, and her time off—what little of it she got—was too sweet to be squandered in her stuffy apartment that lacked air-conditioning. She poked around Chicago’s tourist attractions (when they offered climate control) and visited the other independent coffee shops in the city. In a fit of creativity she painted all her consignment store furniture a deep plum and splurged on a new bedspread to replace her old one. She even played around with the idea of tutoring in an attempt to put her degree to use.

But most of her free time was spent with Jack, who took it upon himself to educate her in the city’s pizza tradition and make sure she was never without entertainment on the afternoons and evenings they were both off work. One of their first outings was to the Billy Goat Tavern, where Jack had to explain both the Chicago Cubs’ “Curse of the Billy Goat” and the
Saturday Night Live
skit that was inspired by the tavern’s cheeseburger-hawking cooks. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen
SNL,”
he said while they finished off their chips.

“I don’t watch a lot of television. And it’s on at eleven-thirty in California; I was never up that late.”

“Not a night owl, hm?”

“Not unless something has me really engaged, no. And I’m a wreck the next day if I don’t get eight hours.”

“I’ll have to remember that.” He wrote with his finger in an invisible notebook and muttered, “No late-night dates on work nights.”

Another date took them to a Second City improv show. “To continue your introduction to Chicago’s contribution to popular culture,” Jack said. “Jim Belushi, Bill Murray, Mike Myers—they all got their start there. You
do
know who they are, right?”

Rachel socked him on the arm. “I’m not that uncultured.”

“Oh good.” He wiped his brow in relief. “So you’ve seen
Blues Brothers
, right? And
Wayne’s World
?”

She bit her lip and gave him a sheepish look.

Jack groaned. “You
are
that uncultured. That’s our next date. You bring the popcorn, I’ll bring the movies.”

She did, and it was her first time visiting his apartment, which he shared with two grad students named Stefan and Dale. “Dude, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Stefan said when he happened on them in the kitchen salting the popcorn.

“Oh, I’m not his girlfriend,” Rachel said, then froze. She wasn’t, right? She glanced at Jack. He winked.

o

“What does that mean?” she asked Daphne about the awkward interaction later that evening.

Daphne laughed as she mixed Rachel’s first Harvey Wallbanger. “You didn’t ask him?”

“I was embarrassed. I didn’t know what to ask.”

“How about, ‘So, what exactly
are
we, anyway?’”

“That would have been good. I didn’t think of that.” She tasted the drink and wrinkled her nose.

“Too strong?”

“No, I’m just not a huge fan of orange juice.”

Daphne laughed. “So tell me—do you want to be Jack’s girlfriend? You sure spend a lot of time with him.”

Rachel took another sip and shrugged. “I don’t know. I like him, obviously. I think I’m just nervous about jumping into another relationship.”

“Do you like him enough to want to date him for years and years? Because if you don’t, then he’s perfect for your rebound relationship.”

“But we’re together at work nearly every day. How ugly will it be when we break up?”

Daphne waved her hand dismissively. “Totally depends on why you break up. If he dumps you—well, then I’ll kill him, and you won’t have to worry about it.” She grinned, and Rachel rolled her eyes. “Look, breakups don’t have to be bad. If it’s mutual it won’t be a big deal. And if he does dump you, you can be adult about it and show him you’re not going to pine after him—which may very well bring him crawling back. Guys are suckers for a woman who so obviously doesn’t care when she gets dumped. And if you want to dump him—well, yes, that might be tricky, but if you do it right then there should be no hard feelings.”

She put the cap back on the Galliano and put the juice back in the fridge as she talked. “The key is not to overanalyze, especially when you’re in a rebound relationship. If you keep it light, then he’ll keep it light.” She raised her glass. “Here’s to living in the moment!”

Living in the moment
. Rachel couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t extrapolate out the consequences of her actions. It was difficult to live in the moment when you were so busy analyzing the effects. And why? Because she had been so concerned about how her behavior would reflect on her family, her church, her faith. It wasn’t her own reputation she’d been worried about, it was everyone else’s. But now?

No one was watching her here but Daphne. There were no fellow congregants to run into at the mall or the movie theater who might disapprove of what they saw her buying or watching, who might think less of Karen and Owen’s parenting. Her coworkers weren’t judging her God by the way she interacted with them and snarky customers. To everyone here she was just Rachel, the new girl from California.

“Earth to Rachel,” Daphne said in a sing-song voice. “What’s going on in that head?”

Rachel sat up straighter. “I think it’s finally sinking in that I’m totally starting over here. I can be whoever I want and no one will know any different—except for you.”

“Who do you want to be?”

Rachel let out a laugh. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve been ‘the Christian’ for so long, I can’t even think of what else to be.”

“Then just pick something you’ve always wanted to try. Get your Illinois teaching credential. Or go with the coffee thing. Or pick nothing, just see what life brings your way.”

Rachel nodded. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” She bit her lip. “But what if I totally flop at whatever it is I try to become?”

“Then you can be someone else. Identities aren’t concrete.”

That took a minute to sink in. The idea that God had made her for a specific reason and with a specific role in the kingdom had been the foundation of her identity for as long as she could remember. Who she was hadn’t been up to her; it had been created for her and handed down from on high. To be in charge of her destiny had its appeal, but it was scary, too. And what was the point, the end goal, if everyone was just doing their own thing for their own gain? What was the purpose of a life lived for itself?

It was one of the few aspects of her new life she didn’t like, and as she finished her drink and mixed another, she found herself longing for someone to just tell her who she was.

Because she was really starting to wonder.

o

Rachel was pulled from sleep by the persistent ring of her cell phone. She groped for it on her nightstand as she struggled to sit up. “Hello?”

“Rachel?”

Her eyes opened as the unexpected voice of her mother brought her fully awake. “Mom. Hi.”

“I woke you—I’m sorry.”

“No. I mean, yes, but it’s all right.”
Why didn’t I look before I answered?

“I went as long as I could without calling. We don’t have to talk long, I just … needed to know you were still okay.”

“Yeah, um, I’m fine. Daphne’s got a nice place, I work at a coffee place down the street … it’s all good.”

“I’m glad, honey. Really, I am. Just knowing you’re okay makes me feel so much better.”

Guilt bubbled up.
Why didn’t I just call her once to let her know I was all right? Of course she was worried.
“I’m sorry, Mom.” She thought back to the fight they’d had before she’d left. “About everything.”

“Water under the bridge, sweetheart.”

Rachel didn’t really want to talk, but she couldn’t bring herself to cut the conversation short, either. “So … how are things?”

“They’re all right, although …”

“What?”

“Well, your father.” Rachel’s stomach clenched. “He’s in Nebraska, at a hospital there. He crashed badly—not a car accident crash, I mean mentally. Emotionally.”

This was more than Rachel wanted to know. “You know, I think I liked it better when I had no idea any of this was going on.”

“I know, honey. I’m sorry.”

She felt her temper rising the more she dwelled on it. “I mean, what am I supposed to do about it? What do I do with that information? Am I supposed to go visit him or something? Send him a card?”

“No, Rachel—there are no expectations on you when it comes to all of this.”

“Then why tell me anything? Now I get to sit and worry that my dad might be some mental patient wacko and that I might be next.”

“Wait—first you’re mad at us for not telling you about all this, and now you’re mad when I finally do? You need to make up your mind.” Her mother’s tone belied her exasperation.

“At this point, unless there’s something I can actually do to fix the situation, I don’t want to know the details. What good does it do me?”

“All right then, I won’t tell you anything else.” The line was silent for a moment before her mother added, “So tell me about Chicago.”

Rachel shrugged. She didn’t really feel like letting her mother into her life right now. She was enjoying the autonomy. “It’s … I don’t know. It’s a city, it’s big, it’s hot. We’re near the University of Chicago, so there are a lot of younger people in the neighborhood. Everyone’s friendly. Daphne and I are having fun as roommates. The job is good, I like my boss and the people I work with. Yeah … everything’s fine.”

“That’s good, that’s good. Glad to hear it.”

Rachel opened her mouth to end the conversation, but missed her opportunity as her mom spoke again. “Well, the legal separation is in place, and as soon as your father is, um, back in town, I’ll start moving on with the divorce. Claire came over the other day and helped me box up his things. Grandma and Grandpa Westing are coming to get it all on Monday. I already feel so much better—”

“Stop.” Anger had built with every word her mother had spoken. “I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t want to hear about how my family is falling apart, all right?”

There was a beat of silence. “I—I just thought you should know where things stand.”

“Fine, then tell me you’re separated, don’t tell me how thrilled you are about it.”

“All right. Okay. I’m used to telling you about my life, but I can understand that you might not want to hear about it right now.” Her mother’s voice held a note of wounded pride, and Rachel couldn’t help feeling badly about it.

“It’s not that I don’t want to—oh, never mind. Look, I should go, I have to work soon.”

“All right then. Oh—I’m going to put a check in the mail for you—for winter clothes.”

“It’s July, Mom. The high yesterday was ninety-two.”

“I know, I know, but you know how far ahead of the season they bring things out these days.”

“Thanks, Mom. But … I know you probably have lots of expenses right now. And I’m okay. I have a job, remember?”

“I know, but you also have a whole new wardrobe to build.”

Rachel finally recognized the olive branch being extended and felt bad giving her mother a hard time about it. “Okay, Mom. Thanks. Send the check.” Her alarm clock began to buzz, making her jump. “Okay, Mom. I gotta go.”

“Take care of yourself, Rachel. Don’t forget I’m still here for you, if you need anything at all, okay?”

“Okay, okay.” She sighed. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I love you.”

“Love you too.” She winced at the words as she hung up, hating how false they felt in her mouth. Not that she didn’t love her mother, but her mother wasn’t who she used to be anymore. Did she love the woman who was kicking her husband to the curb and gushing about how good it felt?