S ince Aunt Irene’s drunk-driving accident had been detailed in the newspaper, it seemed as if everyone in Jubilant who knew the family was abuzz with disbelief or contempt.
Four days after the incident, she came home from the hospital. Though the house was a single-story rancher, she would be confined to a hospital bed that had been ordered by her doctor and set up in the living room. A physical therapist would visit three times a week to help her regain her mobility.
The only bright spot Rachelle could find in this situation was that school was out for the summer. Yasmin and Indigo wouldn’t be forced to face their friends right away. The girls had been hiding out in their rooms and avoiding phone calls since they had returned home after their outings on the day of Aunt Irene’s surgery. Chaundra seemed to be Indigo’s only friend who hadn’t changed with the wind.
Rachelle considered asking her mom to invite the girls to Philadelphia, to share the last three weeks of vacation with Taryn and Tate.
Then she questioned whether helping them escape would be teaching them to do what she had done most of her life—run away from problems. If she stayed in Jubilant for a while, and the family surrounded the girls with support, hopefully they would come through this experience wiser and stronger and better able to cope with life’s challenges.
Rachelle had been rising early each morning to prepare breakfast for the family and make sure Aunt Irene took her medicine on time. The first time Aunt Irene heard Rachelle bustling in the kitchen, she protested.
“I want to help,” Rachelle insisted. She had to keep telling her, until finally Aunt Irene relented, and even made a request.
“If you need something to do then, would you mind sitting with me in the mornings and reading from the Psalms?” Aunt Irene asked. “This medicine leaves me too weak to hold onto my big old Bible.”
Rachelle would read aloud as soon as Aunt Irene woke up and had a cup of coffee.
Because of all that she was facing, from legal woes to disgrace in her church and the community, she told Rachelle the Psalms, penned by David as he endured his own trials, comforted her.
“Can I hear Psalm 91 again?” she asked this morning.
Rachelle complied and unwittingly felt moved by the passage herself, especially the last few verses.
“Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
He will call upon me, and I will
answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.
With long life will I satisfy
him
and show him my salvation.”
Aunt Irene nodded and wept as she listened. “God will give me another chance,” she said softly.
Rachelle wanted to agree, yet she had doubts.
Why was Aunt Irene equating herself to a person concerned about enemies when she had gotten herself in this mess? She had chosen to drive drunk.
Rachelle wanted to ask someone steeped in their faith about that, someone who wouldn’t be put off by her questions. Troy fit that bill, but she had been reluctant to contact him, given Aunt Melba’s eagle eyes and stern warning.
Reaching for Troy’s hands in the hospital cafeteria had been innocent on her part, but Aunt Melba told her to reconsider.
“What if Gabe had walked in on that? Would he think it was innocent?” Aunt Melba asked. “Or vice versa? If you walked in and saw him holding hands with an old girlfriend, what would you think?”
That question hit home.
She thought about Gabe’s nurse, who had accompanied him and the rest of the team on the Ugandan mission trip. Rachelle had admired Veronica at first for agreeing to go and give up her creature comforts for ten days to help others in need.
But like Gabe, Veronica understood what a boost for her résumé this mission experience would be. Rachelle had overheard her sharing that view with a group of nurses at a recent retirement party for a hospital administrator. In the process of raising her profile, Veronica had said, she might actually help a few people.
Rachelle also hadn’t been oblivious to the frequent calls between Veronica and Gabe as the trip loomed. She hadn’t bothered bringing them up, knowing he would try to explain them away or dismiss her as paranoid. But Rachelle knew a turkey when she saw one. Veronica was ready to gobble up something that didn’t belong to her.
Rachelle wasn’t sure yet what she wanted from her marriage long-term, but in the meantime, Gabe had better watch himself.