The Someday List (21 page)

Rachelle wanted to kick her. An attitude wasn't necessary all
the time.

Troy took Alanna's hands. "I'd be angry too, Alanna, if my family had been snubbed like yours was today. People sat through an
entire sermon in which Pastor talked about the need to love others
beyond what we think we can humanly do. They said "amen," they
clapped at all the right times. Some even shouted. But how many
came over to you two or to Indigo and Yasmin and offered a hug
or asked if they could pray for you or for Ms. Irene?"

Alanna stared at him without responding. Rachelle saw that
her sister was taken aback by his straightforwardness.

"I'll tell you what, though, Alanna," he continued. "What I've
learned over the years is that it isn't about them anyway. God gave
them a chance to replicate his love and mercy today, and from
what I saw, not one of them took him up on the challenge.

"But in the end, will either of you do it? Will the girls or Deacon
Charles? The next time you encounter someone who has made a
serious mistake, will you be willing to love them instead of judge
them? I guess that's the whole point of this for you"

Troy released Alanna's hands and gave her a hug. He looked
toward Rachelle as if he wanted to say something, but nodded
instead and walked toward the rear of the church. Pastor Taylor had left through the same hallway seconds earlier, and Rachelle
was guessing Troy didn't want to be left behind.

"Hang tough, ladies, it'll get better;' he said.

"How can you be so sure, Mr. Hardy?" Indigo called out after
him. Her voice trembled, and her eyes were red.

Troy paused and turned toward her. He glanced at Rachelle
before responding. "I've been in a pit similar to the one you're
in now, Indigo. Feels like the snakes are biting and no one understands. You're hurt and angry at the same time. Embarrassed.
Humiliated, and yet you have to go on. You have to"

He spread his arms wide, eagle-like. "I'm walking proof that
no matter how much someone hurts you, God can make things
better:" He looked at Rachelle again, then disappeared down the
hallway.

She wanted to run after him and tell him that she understood
his pain, because it mirrored her own. They were always going
to love each other. They just had to figure out how to do it from
afar.

ave you won the lottery or are bill collectors trying
to find you?"

Rachelle laughed and closed the book she had been reading
aloud to Aunt Irene. "Neither, Auntie. This must be `Catch Up
with Rachelle Day,' though"

She had ordered J. California Cooper's latest short story collection from an online bookstore, and when it arrived three mornings ago, she pulled it out when she finished reading from the
Psalms.

Aunt Irene loved the stories. She and Rachelle discussed the
characters and chatted about what they would do if they were in
those fictional situations.

It was becoming an enjoyable part of the morning routine for
both of them, but today, the incessant ringing of Rachelle's cell
phone had distracted them. She hadn't picked up every call, but
the few people she had chatted with briefly reminded her of her
full life back in Houston.

"Every day when I pass by your place and see the wrought iron
gates closed, I wonder if you're still living there;' said Kit Basque, her
neighbor and tennis partner. "Is everything still alright in paradise,
dahling? That handsome man hasn't locked you out, has he?"

Her tinkling laughter was meant to convey that the question
was a joke, but Rachelle had long been able to see the real Kit.
Whatever she decided about her future, this woman would be
the last to know.

"Sorry, you can't get rid of me that easily," Rachelle responded
with her own lighthearted chuckle. "Get your tennis game together. I'll be home soon:"

Shelley, Trina, and jade called next and put her on speakerphone. They sat in the back of a limo, traveling home from the
airport, and were calling from jade's cell.

"Barbados was fabu, girl!" Shelley said. "You don't know what
you missed!"

"We'll send you pictures, though, so you can see;' Jade chimed
in. "Next time don't tell us no! Instead of having fun with your
girls, you're down there in that lifeless little town, where cable
TV is probably the biggest form of entertainment. What are you
doing anyway? Eating everything in sight and getting fat?"

The three women giggled.

"Actually," Rachelle said, "I am doing a lot of cooking. My aunt
was injured in a car accident and I'm taking care of her:'

"Girl, isn't that what home health aides are for?" Trina said.
"Get her some help so you can come home! I know you probably
need another makeover after being down there. You disappeared
from Houston before we left for our cruise. We're back and you're
still gone!"

Rachelle glanced at Aunt Irene, who was occupying herself with
the book's jacket while she waited for the call to end. Her life just
a few hours away seemed so distant now. She hadn't mentioned
her friend Jillian to the three of them, and listening to them now,
she realized they wouldn't understand.

Drinks and a massage would have been their prescription-one she had happily adhered to for years. Now, she wasn't so sure
that would satisfy her. She was beginning to question in which
world she fit.

"Ladies, I've got to run;' Rachelle said. "I was right in the
middle of something with my aunt. I'll be home soon and promise to call so we can get together, okay? I'm glad the trip was
wonderful!"

She hung up just in time for her housekeeper Helen's ring.

"Hey, Mrs. Covington;' she said. "Just touching base to let you
know that nothing important has come in the mail. House is still
spic and span from last week, since no one has been home:"

Rachelle wondered if she was hinting for another week of paid
vacation.

"I'm sure it is still clean," Rachelle said. "Probably very little to
do without the family underfoot, huh? Actually, though, it's nice
to have you there, Helen, just so the neighbors won't think the
place has been abandoned. Thanks for stopping by a few times
during the week."

The next time the phone rang, Aunt Irene chuckled and closed
the book. She lay back in the bed and closed her eyes while Rachelle took a call from her kids.

"Mommy, tell Gram that you let us have more than two cookies
for dessert sometimes"

Rachelle sighed and shook her head. When it got down to
nitpicky things like the number of cookies one could have, the
summer vacation was wearing thin. Then again, Rachelle knew
how controlling her mother could be. About everything.

"Put Gram on the phone;' she told Taryn.

"Hey, Mom;' Rachelle said. "What's the latest drama?" She'd
be able to assess the weight to give the phone call based on her
mother's response.

"This little girl does not need any cookies, let alone three;'
Rita Mitchell said. She lowered her voice, "I know her little
pudgy self has gained five pounds since she's been here, and
I haven't been letting her eat more than one serving of anything."

Rachelle wanted to blow, but already knew how ineffective
that would be. She took a deep breath and measured her words.
"Mom, Taryn is eight years old," she said. "Eight! Not eighteen.
Please don't restrict my child's diet. She is a growing girl. I'm sure
you are providing her with healthy meals, so let her have more,
within reasonable limits, okay?"

She wished she could see her mother's face, but knew it was
clouded with indignation.

"That's why all of these children have an obesity problem today;"
Rita Mitchell said. "Parents can't tell them no. I never let you have
too many sweets or soda or stuff like that:"

"There were a lot of things you didn't let me do," Rachelle said.
"Too many, in fact"

Aunt Irene opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow. Rachelle
noticed and decided to end the call.

"Mom, you do what you think is best," she said. "Just remember
that they're kids. I'll call later tonight to check on them"

Rachelle hung up, turned back to Aunt Irene, and picked up
the book. "Mom said to tell you hello and she hopes you're feeling better:"

She resumed reading and made it to the end of the section before another call came through. She didn't recognize this number,
though, and decided to ignore it.

"Go on and take your calls, Rachelle," Aunt Irene said. "I can't
go anywhere; I've got all afternoon to finish the story and chat
about it:'

Still, since she wasn't familiar with the number, she let the call
roll into voice mail.

Seconds later, a light flashed, indicating that she had a message. Her patience was wearing thin as she punched in her voice
mail password.

She stopped breathing as she listened.

"Rachelle, bet you didn't expect to hear from me;' the voice
said. "Just wanted to let you know that I'm here in Africa with
your hubby, making sure he gets all of his safari needs met, just
like I always do. And I do mean all of them. Hope you're enjoying
the weather in Texas:"

The woman hadn't left her name, but she didn't have to. Rachelle
knew Veronica's voice.

Rachelle clutched the book in her lap and stared out of the
window. Her thoughts tripped over each other.

So it was true-Gabe was having an affair and Veronica was
his mistress. How long had this been going on? She had suspected
something, but she wanted to be wrong. Even after her talk with
Aunt Melba, she had dismissed her suspicions as paranoia. But
maybe this call wasn't legitimate. Veronica could simply be trying to rattle her. Would Gabe really be bold enough to take his
girlfriend on a Christian mission trip?

Aunt Irene had been right all along. Gabe was a selfish, selfcentered man, and there wasn't anything she could do to change
him. If he really had stepped out on her, and if she had any shred
of self-respect, there didn't seem to be any more reason to even
try to make it work.

achelle strained to compose herself without burdening
Aunt Irene with the details of the last call, but Aunt
Irene knew something was awry.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked.

What Rachelle really wanted was to crawl into bed, curl into a
ball, and stay there forever. She wanted to be alone so she could
throw something. And cry.

Instead, she tried to feign interest in the third short story in
the collection.

Aunt Irene patted her hand. "You go on and take a walk or
something. Something's got you distracted. Get away and talk
to God about it"

Rachelle graced her aunt with a halfhearted smile. "Does God
hear heathens?"

She was thinking about Troy, their kiss, and how she had enjoyed it. If Veronica was telling the truth about Gabe, though, her
transgression hadn't been so bad.

"Does he hear heathens?" Aunt Irene repeated the question and
raised her hands heavenward. "I sure hope so, cause you lookin'
at one. After I have shamed my family and hurt someone else's child by driving drunk, God has every right to forget my name
and address, like it seems most of my friends have"

Her eyes filled with tears. "And Reuben."

Rachelle took her hand. Reuben had called several times from
Prairie View, where he attended college and was enrolled in summer school classes. But she was surprised that he hadn't made
the two-hour trek home, especially after Aunt Irene underwent
surgery. Rachelle had been tempted more than once to ask what
was going on, but had thought better of it.

Aunt Irene continued. "If God can love me and heal me in spite
of myself, if he can hear my prayers and send me the peace I've
begged for, he can hear you too, Rachelle. I could tell that last call
unsettled you. Whatever it is, give it to God."

Rachelle sighed. "That sounds so easy-'Give it to God' What
does that accomplish? What does that even really mean?"

Aunt Irene tried to sit up on her elbows. Rachelle stood up and
propped a couple of pillows behind her.