The Someday List (26 page)

When it was officially 10 a.m. Central Time and 8 a.m. Pacific,
she called San Diego.

Patrick, Jillian's husband, picked up on the second ring. "Good
morning, Rachelle. How did you know to call?" he asked. Obviously he had caller ID.

Rachelle gripped the phone tighter.

Please, God, no ...

Patrick understood the silence and quickly reassured her. "No,
it's not that, Rachelle;' he said. "Jillian's still with us. But she has
been in a lot of pain because she's refusing to take regular doses
of her medication. She wants to be as lucid as possible these last
few weeks. She reminisced all day yesterday about the things you
guys did together over the years. Your call is going to thrill her:"

Rachelle was simultaneously heartened and saddened. She
hated to think of her beautiful friend suffering so much. "Does
she feel up to talking, Patrick?"

"Oh yeah," he said. "She consumes enough medicine to take
the edge off the pain, to get to what she calls her `good zone' That allows her to function during the day. The pain comes back full
force just around nightfall, and she'll go ahead and fully medicate
then, for the evening. She's right here, Rachelle. Let me give her
the phone:'

Rachelle sighed with relief.

"Is this you, Rae? I must have `prayed you up, " Jillian said.
Despite her weak voice, Rachelle heard the same Jillian she'd always known.

"Yep, my friend, that's exactly what you did;' Rachelle said.
"When I woke up this morning, you were the first thing on my
mind, so I climbed out of bed and talked to God about you."

She knew Jillian was smiling.

"I'm really glad to hear that, Rae. Thank you:"

"I'm glad to have a chance to talk to you," Rachelle said. "I've
wanted to touch base since the party, but I wasn't sure if you were
up to taking calls.

"I've been thinking about you a lot, Jill. People say stuff like this
all the time, but I want you to know that your strength and faith
during this time have shown me what it means to really live"

There. Rachelle had said what she'd been feeling all this time
since Jillian's invitation had arrived in the mail. She was in a challenging place right now, trying to figure it all out, but it was a good
place, because after her experience this morning, she knew God
cared about her too.

"You don't know how much that means to me, Rae;' Jillian said.
Her voice was growing weaker. "Others who came to the party
have said the same thing. But you and I have been estranged for
a long time. I should have never told you not to marry Gabe. I
was out of line. It was your choice"

Rachelle gazed out of the window and shook her head, as if Jillian could see her through the phone. "Don't apologize, especially since you were right;' she finally said. "He was and is arrogant,
he was and is controlling, and he was and is in need of a trophy
wife rather than an equal partner. Up until now, I could live with
all of that. Now, I just don't know."

"What does that mean? Are you and Gabe still together?" Jillian asked.

"Yes, we are;' Rachelle said. "But I've been struggling with
whether to stay. I know I married him for security, although I
hadn't gotten over Troy. I loved Troy, Jillian, and I'm not so sure
that I still don't. Do you believe in second chances?"

The silence extended for so long that Rachelle feared they had
either been disconnected or her friend had fallen asleep. But Jillian finally responded.

"Second, and even third chances can and do happen, Rachelle,"
Jillian said, "but not at the expense of something God has already
ordained and blessed. When you married Gabe, that became the
man you should honor. Unless he has been abusive or in some
other way broken your marriage vows, you can't just decide to
rewind life and try to start over again-fifteen years later-with
the man you first loved. Life doesn't work that way. God wants you
to be happy, but he also wants you to keep your commitments."

Rachelle's heart sank with the realization that her friend wasn't
giving her an easy way out. It appeared that Gabe had committed adultery, but had she been an accomplice by not calling him
on it? She had more questions, if Jillian had enough strength to
keep talking.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Anything," Jillian said. "I don't know how much more time
I have left, Rae, so let's talk. I want this conversation to matter,
forever. What do you want to know?"

"How did you connect with God?" Rachelle asked, almost afraid that the answer would be so amazing that she couldn't possibly
accomplish a similar feat.

She rose from her seat to check the pots on the stove. She was
making spaghetti sauce for lunch and wanted to make sure nothing
was in danger of burning. After a quick perusal, she repositioned
herself at the table, thankful that she hadn't been interrupted by
one of the girls or Aunt Irene. She wanted to hear Jillian's response
without distractions.

"I traveled all over the world taking pictures and saw some of
the most amazing sights and some of the most horrific;' Jillian
said. "Witnessing both ends of life's spectrum led me to question
how this world was really fashioned and what purpose all of us
play in it.

"When I went to Jerusalem about eight years ago, seeing the
historic places mentioned in the Bible and seeing the people who
live in that region fervently praying several times a day, despite
whatever else was going on, just changed me:" Jillian paused and
coughed. "I realized that for them, everything began and ended
with a reverence for God. I wanted to be connected to something
more meaningful and lasting than my pictures.

"When I began exploring Christianity and found a church here
in San Diego that taught me how to read the Bible and relate it to
my own experience, I finally got a sense of who God is and how
we all fit into the world's vast landscape:"

Rachelle couldn't help but interrupt. She needed to know too.
"Where do we fit?"

"In the palm of God's hand, Rae. It sounds simplistic, but it
serves as the foundation of everything-particularly how we live
and how we love," Jillian said. "You know how much I struggled
at one point with being part Asian and part black; but when I
began to rest in God, I understood that he loves all of us, despite our cultural, racial, or personality differences. That meant I could
love myself unconditionally because I was one of his children. He
wants every one of us to love each other the same way."

Rachelle frowned. All it boiled down to was love?

The strain that had permeated Jillian's voice had disappeared.
"It's hard to articulate, Rae, but it's like I was a deflated balloon
until God blew his breath into me. I've never been the same since.
He sustains me, he makes me laugh, he loves me-good, bad, ugly;
even when I'm passing gas from this medicine:"

"What?!" Rachelle laughed out loud.

Leave it to Jillian to lighten the mood, even while discussing
something as serious as her faith.

"Studying the Bible and connecting with others who understand and appreciate God's love has helped me deepen my relationship with him," Jillian said. "When I got the news about how
much time I supposedly have left, I was devastated.

"Patrick and I had begun trying to have a baby. I had a lot more
living to do! But if God wants me to come home, overstaying
my welcome here on earth would lead to more heartache than I
probably could handle on my own.,,

Jillian sighed, and Rachelle could tell that she was weeping.

"I don't know the reason he's shortening my stay-I can only
speculate. But I do know that I love him and trust him, no matter
what he decides. And I'm grateful for the ride I've had"

"How do I get to that place with him?" Rachelle wiped her wet
eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm embarrassed to tell you that I
can't even figure out who I am or what I want out of life. That Top
Ten List you asked all of us to create? I have one thing on my list, Jill,
and it's not even a real goal. I am pitiful. How do I get happy?"

Rachelle felt ashamed for seeking her dying friend's advice on
how to live.

`Accept how much God loves you, honey, and run toward him
instead of in the opposite direction;' Jillian said. "When you anchor your heart in his love, it can't help but flow outward. God
will begin showing you your purpose, when you're ready to walk
in it."

Rachelle finally believed she was.

A blond man carrying a slim notepad entered and slid into
a seat on the second row to the right. The Jubilant Herald had
remembered to send a reporter. Great.

She sat across the aisle from him and tried to shield the girls
from his view. Yasmin was next to her, followed by Indigo, then
Uncle Charles. Her dad, who had flown in from Philadelphia last
night to support his sister, sat next to Uncle Charles. Aunt Melba,
Cynthia, and Pastor Taylor sat on the row behind them.

Rachelle couldn't recall ever praying for anything or anyone as
fervently as she had prayed for Aunt Irene over the past twentyfour hours. Her aunt was a good and loving person who needed
help, not a devastating punishment. Rachelle's conversations with
God were too new for her to know exactly what to say, but she
trusted that the Psalms she had been reading with Aunt Irene
were an accurate barometer of what he found acceptable. She felt
hopeful that her pleas of God, grant her mercy, had been heard.
Between the family's collective and personal prayers, Rachelle
had to trust that everything would turn out okay.

Everyone stood when Judge Candice Carmichael entered the courtroom. She took Aunt Irene's case file from the court clerk
and skimmed its contents.

"Mrs. Burns, I was prepared to simply record the charges against
you today and schedule a trial date, but am I correct in understanding that you are ready to enter a plea this morning?"

Aunt Irene glanced at her lawyer and nodded.

"I need you to speak, rather than use head motions, for the
benefit of the clerk transcribing these proceedings;' Judge Carmichael told her.

"I'm sorry, Your Honor," Aunt Irene said softly. "Yes, I am entering an Alford plea:"

Her attorney, John Dupree, had explained to the family last
night that by making this kind of plea, Aunt Irene was not technically pleading guilty, in the traditional sense. Instead, she
was acknowledging that there was enough evidence to find her
guilty of causing bodily harm to another person while driving
drunk.

The Alford plea allowed her to take responsibility for her actions without assuming the guilt of someone who had committed
the crime intentionally, and it allowed the prosecuting attorney
to recommend a sentence that better fit her crime.

If this option hadn't been available, Aunt Irene informed the
family that she would have entered a traditional guilty plea without qualms.

"I'm not trying to dodge the consequences of my actions;' she
had insisted, with her eyes fixed on Yasmin and Indigo. "I've
taught you two, and your brother Reuben, to never do that, and
I can't break my own rules."

As she stood before the judge this morning, the prosecutor
summarized the details of the car accident and provided the
judge with documentation of Aunt Irene's blood alcohol level. Copies of the injured child's medical records were also entered
into evidence.

"Judge, not only was she intoxicated with alcohol, blood tests
revealed that she also had prescription pain medicine in her system;' Kirby Branson said. "The worst part was that this accident
resulted in more harm than just a few banged-up cars. Because
of her negligence, a young boy will spend most of his summer
in leg and arm casts:"

John Dupree spoke on Aunt Irene's behalf.

"Mrs. Burns is an upstanding citizen, a retired schoolteacher,
who coped with the grief of losing her only child by self-medicating
in an unwise fashion. A fairly recent hip injury that required her to
take several prescription medicines only compounded the issue.

"She is very remorseful, and recently began making a positive
contribution to the lives of children about the age of the boy
who was hurt in the accident. She is reading to youths in a local
pediatric office and is prepared to continue this community service long term."

John held a document in the air. "I have a notarized statement
about her excellent service from the doctor who operates the
reading program:"

Judge Carmichael nodded and turned toward Aunt Irene.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Mrs. Burns?"

Aunt Irene had taken a seat while the lawyers presented the
evidence. John helped her stand again so she could respond. She
glanced at her family before speaking. "I don't know what to say,
Your Honor, except that I am very sorry."

She began softly, but the longer she talked, the louder and
more confident she grew. "I know you get apologies all day long,
but I am truly horrified by what happened. I have asked my
family to forgive me and also the little boy who I hurt, and his family. I wrote them a letter last week and my lawyer gave it to
Mr. Branson to deliver. I love children, Your Honor. I would
never have put that young man or his family in harm's way if I
had been coherent.