Authors: Bonnie Wheeler
Some were random shots from school; perhaps the yearbook committee or the school paper had taken them. Others were posed with Rachel sitting next to Jason, the two
arm
in arm, smiling with bodies leaning towards each other. Relaxed and smiling in most, there were several taken of her at the beach. In each, her daughter was barely recognizable in a two piece swimsuit that Angela couldn’t recall ever seeing. With the sun gleaming off her hair and her skin lightly tanned, her daughter was stunning. When had Rachel become such an attractive young woman?
Why hadn’t I seen it?
Sliding one of the pictures out from beneath the collage, Angela examined it closer in the light. It was a picture of Rachel and Jason in their formal attire from last spring’s prom. Rachel had been wearing a simple off the shoulder dress of pale yellow silk. The color worked beautifully with her auburn hair. With a rhinestone barrette and a smattering of baby’s breath, just the front of it was pinned back, allowing her long curls to flow in loose tendrils around her shoulders. The orchid corsage Jason had given her, placed on the delicate bones of her wrist, matched the boutonniere on
his tuxedo. Both wore matching smiles on their faces, studying the snapshot now was truly heartwarming. Rachel and Jason
were
an attractive couple. Breaking them up by sending her to Miss Hall’s would have been unfair and beyond cruel.
Is it a wonder she ran? How could we have been so blind?
So selfish?
The weight of her guilt was daunting. How could she reconcile barely knowing her only child – a child that she had wanted so dearly? Initially, she hoped parenthood would bring her and Brian closer, but being a mother was Angela’s one triumph. How could she have let go of what mattered?
Over the years, Angela lost track of Rachel, seeing her as the same little girl who wanted to play with her dolls and be at her side at church on Sundays, a girl who would do well in school and understand that everything she did, represented her parents. Rachel had grown up before her eyes and Angela missed out on learning who her daughter had become.
Backing up, Angela’s foot bumped against a book peeking out from just under Rachel’s bed. Bending down to pick it up, she realized it was a binder. Thinking it belonged on the desk with her
others,
Angela’s eyes scanned the cover but couldn’t determine the subject. Flipping open the lid, her face suddenly flushed when she realized what it was, a
collection of love notes and emails she had passed back and forth with Jason.
Seeing her daughter’s flowery script in contrast to her boyfriend’s square print was unexpected. The intimate exchanges must have been meaningful for Rachel to have kept them filed away so close at hand. Even emails were printed and
hole
punched, with the words between them left as a reminder that Rachel was a woman and no longer a child.
Closing the book quickly, Angela knew the letters weren’t meant for her eyes. If her daughter suspected her mother to invade her privacy, the book wouldn’t have been left behind. Still, Angela reasoned with herself, if the writing could reveal a little of what Rachel was thinking, perhaps reading just a few pieces of the correspondence would be okay.
Opening the first page, a crinkled piece of loose leaf paper had been flattened and carefully inserted into a page protector. From the date which looked to have been penned in as an afterthought, it must have been written early in their junior year.
She did say they have been a couple for a year now…
Wondering how the note had been exchanged, Angela studied the paper. Jason’s handwriting was surprisingly neat
for a young man and Rachel’s signature style hadn’t changed much over the years.
Reading the message, a lump formed in the back of her throat. Her daughter never revealed even having Jason as a part of her life until last Christmas, but he seemed rather sweet.
Dear Rachel,
I was the happiest guy at homecoming. You were beautiful.
Please say “yes.”
Jason
Angela’s forehead scrunched.
Yes to what?
Dear Jason,
Homecoming was wonderful! Thank you for taking me.
I want to say yes, but I don’t know you that well yet.
Maybe after our date Friday night?
- Rachel
(P.S. Thank you for saying I’m beautiful. You are a good looking guy yourself.
)
Angela skipped ahead. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what Rachel was agreeing to. The thought of her daughter being sexually active was unsettling. She hoped that wasn’t what the “say yes” was all about.
Dear Rachel,
I’m an open book. Ask me anything. I can tell you that I really like your smile and hope to see more of it in class next period. I can’t wait until Friday.
Yours,
Jason
(P.S.
Please say “yes” to
being
my girlfriend.
)
Angela smiled. No wonder Rachel was so taken by him, he was sweet and persistent. Skipping at least twenty pages or so, she came across a series of emails Rachel had printed. Scanning them, Angela could see her daughter’s loneliness at home showing through her correspondence.
To.
Jason Thompson <
[email protected]
>
From.
Rachel Jones <
[email protected]
>
Subject:
Miss
You
, too
Dear Jason,
This vacation feels like it will never end. I’m sorry I couldn’t come for your family’s tree trimming party. My parentals won’t let me leave because it is Christmas and we are supposed to be together. I don’t see how this night is any different than any other night. My folks are sitting in different rooms watching different TV programs and I am up here all alone. They haven’t even knocked on my door all day. Some Christmas this is turning out to be.
I wish we were at your place. Save a place on your smelly couch for me.
Love,
Rachel
To.
Rachel Jones <
[email protected]
>
From.
Jason Thompson <
[email protected]
>
Subject.
Miss You More
Dear Rachel,
I’m sorry you weren’t able to come. I’ll have you know I pocketed the mistletoe for another night. Please don’t let your parents get you down again. The problems they have aren’t because of you. I worry about you when you are so sad. It won’t always be this hard. If you were here, I would make you smile. ;)
Miss you.
Jason
Closing the book, Angela couldn’t continue to read. Her eyes didn’t belong within the carefully set pages of Rachel’s letters. The words, so intimate and soothing, were too personal for her to witness. Knowing how long her daughter had been feeling the isolation in the home was hurtful to read. Somehow, Angela had convinced herself that her dissatisfaction with Brian, with her marriage in general, was known only to herself. But she was a fool.
Last year’s quiet Christmas had faded into just a vague memory, but Angela could still recall how sad her daughter seemed when Brian said “no” to her request to go out. With drink in hand and shirt unbuttoned, he reasoned the townspeople would question Rachel’s activities if seen out on such a holy night without the accompaniment of her parents. Like most of Brian’s explanations, Angela didn’t bother spending the energy to argue. If Rachel stayed home, Angela wouldn’t have to drive her anywhere and it would save her from having to pretend her world was perfect, especially at Christmas time.
As she placed the book back under the bed, Angela realized she wasn’t the only one pretending to be happy. Rachel had been suffering with the dynamics of their home,
too. Things would have to change – Angela would have to change. If she was going to offer her daughter any kind of life, she had to figure out what to do with Brian and the way they had become used to living.
Staring at the darkened sky, she hoped dawn would bring more than just a new day. Rachel was out there and Angela wouldn’t rest until the teen was home safe. Perhaps then, they could try to find a new way of living. Maybe even find each other.
2
3
BRIAN
Friday 8:30 AM
New Hope Bible Church was down the street. It was an easy five minute walk, but Brian enjoyed beginning his days with a cruise through town. The morning was unseasonably
cool. Hoping the overcast sky would brighten, he waved at the friendly faces as he passed. After all that transpired last night, maintaining his image was vital. With his daughter’s antics and Angela threatening to tell the church body that Marge was a whore, his hands were full.
Rachel never came home. He had no clue where she was but instructed Angela to call him if she returned. It was unusual for the teen to act out. He didn’t enjoy reprimanding her and hadn’t needed to since she was a child, but Rachel’s behavior was embarrassing. He could have used some alone time with Angela last night to smooth things over. As soon as she learned Rachel took off, his wife refused to listen to reason.
Thanks a lot Rachel. Of all nights to do something stupid, you had to pick last night.
Angela called some of Rachel’s friends, but no one claimed to have seen her. Not wanting the news to spread, he insisted they give the girl time to calm down. But, Angela glowered whenever he opened his mouth. After George left, Angela spent the night rummaging through Rachel’s room. With no sign of a note, she began cleaning. Her uneasy movements rattled his nerves. After perfecting Rachel’s room, the roar of the vacuum headed down the hallway. With
the sharp scent of Lysol drifting under the door, he knew sleep was impossible.
By the time Brian was up and showered, he couldn’t wait to escape. Hearing his wife’s muffled voice as she made another phone call from the kitchen, he slipped out the front door.
Weekday mornings began at Lucinda’s Diner for a cup of coffee and a croissant. Daisy, his favorite waitress, was a gem. The redhead’s smile always lit up when he stopped in. He liked that her bobbed haircut and green eyes made her look the centerfold in one of the
Hustler
magazines he kept locked away in his office desk. She also pretended not to notice when he lifted the paper from the counter without paying.