The Someday List (11 page)

Aunt Irene sighed. "Soon, I hope. My doctor was scheduled to
perform it last month, but had a ministroke. Another orthopedic
surgeon has taken on Dr. Cain's patients in addition to his own,
so he hasn't let me know yet when he can work me in:"

Rachelle patted her hand. "It seems painful ... Is that why you
had something stronger than water in that red cup?"

A wave of embarrassment crossed Aunt Irene's face. "I was
joking with you. You know me better than that!"

Rachelle wasn't convinced, but didn't press the issue. She had
no right to interrogate her aunt.

"Enough about me. What's going on with you?" Aunt Irene
asked. "Why are you here without Gabe? And why did you run
inside at the first sighting of Troy? He's not going to bite, you
know. I know it's uncomfortable, but it's reality."

"If it's reality, then why didn't you tell me that he had been hired
by your church?" Rachelle bit her tongue. "Sorry."

Aunt Irene ignored Rachelle's tone and her apology. "Again,
I'm asking, what's going on?"

Rachelle shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just fed up. I don't know
what I want anymore and whether I even want to be with Gabe
anymore. I'm tired of being with someone who thinks the world
revolves around him and that as his wife, I'm here to cater to
him:'

Aunt Irene leveled her gaze at Rachelle. "Let's get real, young
lady. The man you're describing is the same man you met soon after
moving to Houston for optometry school. He was self-absorbed then and he's self-absorbed now. I know you didn't marry him
expecting to change him. Did you?"

Rachelle sat back and looked at her aunt. "What do you mean
Gabe was self-absorbed? I thought you liked him. I mean I know
you weren't crazy about him like you were about ...Troy, but
still."

Aunt Irene shook her head. "Rachelle, this has nothing to do
with me liking or disliking Gabe. That should only matter for
you-you're the one who has to live with him.

"But in response to your comment, I never knew him as well
as Troy, because you two began dating after you graduated from
Everson. However, I saw what I saw, and I thought you did too.
Didn't I tell you before you married him to expect the things you
liked about him to get better and the things that annoyed you to
get worse?

"I know I must have," Aunt Irene said, "because it's true. When
you're in love, you see everything through those rose-colored
glasses. The things that get on your nerves are okay because he's
your prince, or in Gabe's case, your king. But let a few years pass
and get a few babies and a few bills, and those same things can
drive you right out the door"

Rachelle pursed her lips. "What if I really didn't love him?
What if I just thought I did? Or, I was taking my chance with him
because I kept hearing he was a `good catch, and I didn't want to
be old and lonely?"

Aunt Irene smiled. "As pretty as you are, that should have never
entered your mind;' she said. "But you wouldn't be the first to
choose a mate for that reason. That doesn't always mean you won't
grow into love, but it can make for a harder road to travel.

"Now, here you are, deep into this, with two kids to think about
and, what? Are you thinking of leaving him?"

Rachelle shrugged and lowered her head. "I kinda have;' she
said. "He's coming home from a medical conference tonight and
I'm here. He leaves for Uganda on Tuesday, and I don't think I'm
going home to see him off."

She lifted her eyes to gauge Aunt Irene's reaction. There was
none.

"Can you believe Gabe is even going on a medical mission
trip?" Rachelle continued. "It's Christian-based too. The church
that his surgery partner attends is heavily involved, and Lyle finally
convinced him to go along:"

Aunt Irene nodded. "See what I mean? Do you hear yourself?
Even what you're saying about him now makes him sound like
he's more into himself than anyone else-you're surprised that
he would go on a mission trip, to help others in need," she said.
"What you're going to have to decide is how you can be the Rachelle God has called you to be, regardless of what Gabe wants
or demands from you, because in the end, you'll have to stand
before him one day for yourself, and be accountable for how you
used this life he gave you.

"But"-Aunt Irene raised a forefinger-"I'm not saying that you
can't do that and stay with your husband. Marriage is a ministry
too, you know. God can work through a union centered on him
to do wonderful things that bless others:"

Rachelle frowned. "A ministry? Okay, that's a new one for
me.

Aunt Irene laughed. "Trust me. If I didn't believe that the life
Charles and I have created together somehow draws others to
God, and if I didn't understand that one of my reasons for staying committed is to honor my promise before God, I might have
left a few times myself."

Rachelle's dismay must have registered on her face.

"That's okay," Aunt Irene said. "I know you're thinking that
your favorite uncle couldn't possibly have done anything wrong.
He is a good man, Rachelle, but he's still a man. And no matter
how good he is, unless you have to live with him, you just don't
know!

"But back to you. You have to find Rachelle's purpose, and use
that to guide you toward happiness and fulfillment:"

Rachelle thought again about her blank Top Ten List. "That's
the second time in less than a week that I've received advice like
that. You remember my friend Jillian?"

Aunt Irene smiled. "Yes! How is that lovely girl doing? She had
a bright future when she graduated from Everson. I just knew she
was going to do well"

Rachelle smiled. "She has done well, Aunt Irene. She continued with her photography and has traveled the world shooting
pictures for National Geographic magazine. And you know what?
Somewhere along the way, she found God:"

Aunt Irene raised an eyebrow. "Did she, now? Actually, Rachelle, God was there all along. Jillian must have decided `somewhere along the way' to open her heart to him"

Rachelle pondered that perspective. Was that why she couldn't
hear from God-because her heart wasn't open?

"I saw Jillian over the weekend for the first time in years,"
Rachelle said. "You probably remember that she didn't come to
my wedding, and after that we fell out of touch. Now she's dying,
Aunt Irene. She has breast cancer"

Aunt Irene clutched her chest. "Jillian?"

Rachelle nodded. "She has been given only a few weeks to
live. I don't know what process she went through, but she seems
to be at peace:"

Rachelle told Aunt Irene about the party Jillian hosted. Aunt Irene hugged her and held her. Rachelle's defenses crumbled. She
wept into her aunt's shoulder.

When she finally lifted her head, Rachelle was embarrassed.
"Guess you got more than you bargained for when you came in
here, huh?"

Aunt Irene shook her head. "You're fine;' she said. "And trust
me, there will be more days when the tears overwhelm you.
Losing someone who was special to you is hard; it's just plain
hard. I understand now why you're feeling confused about everything."

"A lot is happening;' Rachelle said.

"That is a lot;' Aunt Irene said. `And then you show up here,
hoping to get away from it all, and discover that Troy has returned:'

Rachelle nodded as a fresh round of tears filled her eyes. "I
can't believe I still get upset about what happened back then. My
parents altered my entire future. I could have been up there today
with Troy, being welcomed back to jubilant"

Aunt Irene frowned. "Now don't go getting ahead of yourself.
You don't know how life would have unfolded if the two of you
had stayed together. It's easy to speculate the best of circumstances
when you don't know what the day-to-day reality would have
been like:"

Rachelle looked into Aunt Irene's eyes. "Yes, but Troy loved
me. I made a mistake. I should have chosen to honor my marriage vows and refused to leave him. Instead, I listened to Mom
and Dad's threats and chose a career over my husband. I practiced optometry all of two years before Gabe insisted that I
quit and be more available to him and little Tate, so what was
the point?"

"There's always a point, Rachelle;" Aunt Irene said. "Always. The key is to figure out how God can effectively use you where
you're planted now, regardless of how you got there:'

Rachelle averted her eyes. Since she was being honest, she might
as well tell it all. "That's just it, Aunt Irene;' she said. "This God
thing? It isn't working for me. He hasn't found me, he doesn't
speak to me, and I don't anticipate him dropping a note about
my purpose in my email inbox anytime soon. I hear what you're
saying, and it all sounds wonderful-Jillian mentioned some of
the same things during her party. But how can what you're saying help me? I don't know the last time I had a connection with
`the Man upstairs."'

Aunt Irene smiled and slowly lifted herself off the bed. "You
need to find your way to him, Rachelle. He's there, in the circumstances already around you, waiting to embrace you and
guide you"

She crept toward the door, but kept talking. "The question is,
do you want to be `found'? Do you want answers to all of these
questions you have? Sometimes people think they do, but they'd
rather stay in the dark:'

Aunt Irene grabbed the doorknob. Before she departed, she
turned and looked at Rachelle. "Trust me, that's way more comfortable. I haven't always known the Lord like I do now. And
even now, I mess up. But think about Jillian: Everything isn't
perfect, yet she knows where she's headed. That's a beautiful
thing. Look at Troy. Isn't it amazing how God has brought
him full circle and sent him back to the place he once called
home?"

Rachelle attempted to smile. She didn't want to be rude, but in
some ways, Aunt Irene's faith sounded like mindless devotion. Her
scientific-minded friends in Houston often watched the Bible-belt
televangelists and ridiculed viewers who sent in love offerings to support the ministers' lavish churches and lifestyles. Rachelle had
also found them amusing.

Tonight, however, Aunt Irene had given her a glimpse of how
faith could be relevant. Still, Rachelle wanted to know why, if God
was so good, Aunt Irene had needed whatever she was drinking
earlier today.

he timid knock at the door startled Rachelle. She sat
up in bed and tried to get her bearings.

It took her a few seconds to realize that she didn't recognize
her surroundings because they weren't hers. Reuben's bed was
comfortable. She had been in a deep sleep.

The light tapping at the door continued.

"Good morning! Yes?" she said.

"Cousin Rachelle, I have a hair appointment but Mama doesn't
feel well this morning and she's still in bed. Can you please take
me to Aunt Melba's salon?"

Indigo sounded desperate.

Rachelle glanced at the clock again. Of course she couldn't
tell the child no. She rose from the bed and pulled her robe from
her suitcase.

She opened the door and smiled at the ninth grader, who
had inherited her father's lanky frame and broad smile. Indigo's
hair had been combed into a frizzy ponytail, the remnants of
the water balloon fight she and her friends had at yesterday's
birthday barbecue.

"Sure. What time do you have to be there?" Rachelle asked.

They agreed to get dressed and meet in the kitchen in thirty minutes. Rachelle rummaged through her bag, still filled with
her clothing from San Diego, and found the pair of jeans she had
packed. She pulled out a gold camisole and the honey brown ballet
flats she had worn for her trek through the airport.

After a quick shower, she strolled into the kitchen fully dressed
and ready to go. Uncle Charles was flipping pancakes while indigo
and Yasmin sat at the table, waiting to be served. Indigo was listening to her purple iPod and reading a novel while Yasmin played
with her pink handheld electronic game. Rachelle stifled a laugh.
These could be her children, who also had traded in their Game
Boys a couple of years ago for the next new gadgets.

Rachelle waved at them and Indigo set aside her distractions.

"Good morning, family," Rachelle said. She remembered waking up to Uncle Charles's feasts during her days at Everson College,
whenever she visited during the weekend. He always had breakfast
duty and Aunt Irene prepared the rest of the meals.

"I see you're still a pro in the kitchen;' Rachelle told him. She
pulled out a chair and joined the girls at the rectangular oak
table.

"He just does this to impress our guests;' Indigo said. "We
don't get this kind of service on a regular basis. So please, come
more often."

Uncle Charles placed dishes filled with warm scrambled eggs
and slices of bacon in the center of the table. He slid plates stacked
with pancakes in front of Rachelle and his daughters.

On his way back to the stove, he thumped the side of Indigo's
head with his thumb and forefinger.