Rachelle had downplayed the encounter with Troy for as long as she could, but today, she realized she had to stop running.
Troy had called her again a few times at Aunt Irene’s and tried to apologize, but she had rushed him off the phone.
“It’s no big deal, Troy. Forget about it, okay?” The last time he had called, Rachelle hung up before he could respond.
He followed up by mailing a card and writing a brief note.
It is a big deal. We need to talk. Until we do, this won’t ever be resolved, for either of us.
He included his email address and cell phone number and asked her to give him a date and time when they could sit down together, with Pastor Taylor or someone of her choosing. Rachelle responded by putting the information in File 13.
Today he was trying a new tactic. How had he gotten her cell phone number?
“I hope you don’t feel like you’re being stalked, Rachelle,” he said. “We just really need to talk. I need to apologize for my recent behavior and see where we stand. I’ll be at the church all day today. If you stop by, Pastor Taylor has agreed to sit and listen, or sit and talk with us. Whatever we need. He’s my mentor as well as my boss, and I trust him. You can bring someone with you if you feel like you need some support. Just come, Rachelle. Please.”
She sighed. This sounded too much like marriage counseling, and she was no longer his wife.
Yet even Alanna was taking his side. “Talk to the man, Chelle! You’ve got to clear up whatever there is between you two.”
Rachelle pulled in front of Hair Pizzazz and tucked the phone in her purse. She was Aunt Melba’s first client of the day.
“Why you needed to come in at seven a.m. when all you’re doing is driving ‘Miss Daisy’ to volunteer at Cynthia’s clinic is beyond me,” Aunt Melba teased. “My next client doesn’t come in until ten thirty today, so I got out of bed early for you.”
Rachelle smiled. “Well, thank you. ‘Miss Daisy’ is excited about reading to the kids at the clinic. She likes to get there when Cynthia opens. I happen to like it a lot too. I’ve been helping with eye exams.”
Aunt Melba lowered Rachelle’s head into the shampoo bowl and nodded. “Cynthia told me. She says you’re great with the kids and the parents.”
Rachelle was beginning to think so too. Since they were alone, however, she had a more pressing matter on her mind. “Troy keeps trying to contact me. Can you believe it, Aunt Melba?”
Melba was quiet as she worked shampoo through Rachelle’s hair and scrubbed her scalp. “What does he want, Rachelle?” she finally asked.
“He keeps apologizing for kissing me and says he wants to meet so we can put this behind us.”
Melba stood back and looked at her. “I actually think that’s a good idea, under the right circumstances. Both of you need to deal with what happened so you can bless and release each other. You need to move on so you can get things straight with Gabe.
And it hasn’t escaped my attention that this fine man is walking around Jubilant unattached. If I were about thirty years younger, I’d be telling him to kick you to the curb once and for all.”
Rachelle raised her head and tried to keep from leaking water onto the floor. “Aunt Melba!”
“I’m serious,” she said. “You don’t need to be looking at him, but I can!”
Rachelle resumed her position and shook her head in exasperation.
“Seriously though, Rachelle, you need to talk and get this resolved,” Melba said. “It’s probably weighing on him because he works at church, with Pastor Taylor, and he wants to make sure he’s doing the right things before God.”
Rachelle hadn’t considered that. Maybe Troy was trying to clear this up so he could minister more effectively through the music. If that was the case, she had been hampering him.
She told Melba about his plea for her to come to the church today and his offer for her to bring someone along. “Will you go with me?”
Melba glanced at the clock. It was 7:20 a.m. “I’ll be done with your hair in another hour, but I don’t want to miss my next client.”
Rachelle frowned. “Didn’t you just tell me she won’t be in until ten thirty?”
Aunt Melba nodded. “Yep, but this could take awhile. Call him and ask if he and Pastor Taylor mind coming here. If they get here right at eight thirty, that would give us almost two hours. I want to help.”
Troy had left his cell phone number in the message. Rachelle listened to it again and stored the digits in her temporary memory bank.
He picked up on the first ring. “Thanks for calling me back.” He sounded anxious.
“Would you and Pastor Taylor be able to meet me at Melba’s salon in about an hour?”
Troy agreed without hesitating. “We’ll be there. Thank you, Rachelle. I appreciate it.”
She clicked off the phone and realized she was feeling uneasy. This could be the close of a difficult chapter for both of them, but first, some deep wounds might have to be reopened.