2

It was as if someone had paused the universe. Lynn halted mid-sip while Ann froze mid-chew. In any other moment, Rachel would have been pleased to see her friends displaying evidence of the same shock that she felt. As it was, all her emotions were engaged in processing the sundrenched engagement photo of Lee Martin and Sharon Day. When was this photo even taken? And where? They were wearing sweaters and didn’t appear to be sweating. So it couldn’t have been Florida.

“I didn’t even know they were officially dating.” Ann used her straw to swirl the ice in her glass.

“They only made it official at Thanksgiving.” Rachel pinched the Save the Date between two fingers and flapped it back and forth. “What is this?”

Lynn frowned. “Lee didn’t talk to you about this? Odd. I didn’t know you two were still on the outs.”

“We’re not on the outs!” Rachel sensed her voice pitching upward and drew a deep breath. “At least, I didn’t think we were.”

“When’s the last time you talked to him?” Ann asked.

“Right before he and Sharon left to go out of town for Christmas. They headed to the Midwest so he could meet her family. I told him it sounded as if they were moving a bit fast. I guess I didn’t know how fast.” With a flick of her wrist, Rachel spun the Save the Date onto the table. She glared at it. The traces of Lee’s influence in the simple design were unmistakable: the textured paper, the elegant font, and the tasteful embellishments. At least Lee would be marrying someone who would appreciate his artistic gifts.

Lee would be marrying someone. And not just anyone, either. Sharon Day—a woman Rachel had once found intensely exasperating. Not that Rachel opposed the match solely on those grounds. Sharon was young, impressionable, and slightly immature—a description that wasn’t too far off from Lee himself, come to think of it. So in a sense, they were a good fit.

But still.

Lee was marrying someone.

And he hadn’t even talked to her about it.

“Rachel?” Lynn’s voice cut through the haze.

“I’m fine.” Rachel picked up the invitation, fitted it back into the envelope, and jammed it into her bag.

“Wait—” Ann propped her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “You’re fine?”

“Of course I’m fine.”

Ann slitted her eyes. “There’s no way you’re fine.”

Lynn topped off Rachel’s coffee and pushed the jug of cream across the table. “Honestly, Rachel, it’s OK if you need to talk it out. We know what a surprise this must be for you.”

Rachel shook back her hair, red spirals tumbling. Ignoring the swooping sensation in her stomach, she affected a light laugh. “Honestly, guys, I’m fine.” She swirled cream into her coffee, checking for the perfect shade of tan. “As you’re both so fond of reminding me, Lee is a grown man who can make his own decisions. So if he wants to get engaged and plan a wedding without consulting the person who loves him most in the world and has his best interests at heart, then so be it.” Rachel lifted her coffee and sipped, the picture of nonchalance.

Ann leaned back in her chair and expelled a loud breath toward the ceiling.

Lynn searched Rachel’s eyes, brow creasing.

“Yes?” Rachel asked archly. She sipped her coffee, slurping noisily into the heavy silence.

Ann leveled her gaze on Rachel. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said that I don’t know where to start.”

“Do tell.” Rachel would not allow herself to be drawn into this debate. Didn’t they realize that the first Resolution was at stake? Maybe they did, and they were testing her.

“Are you honestly sitting there and saying that you love Lee more than his own mother does?” Ann snorted. “More than his own flesh and blood?”

“I certainly love him better,” Rachel shot back. “I’m not the one who virtually abandoned him when he was growing up and left him to raise himself. I never stole his car and tried to sell it for parts so that I could buy drugs.”

Lynn lifted a finger. “Rachel does have a point. But I don’t think this is the argument we need to have right now.” She glanced back and forth between the sisters, holding eye contact with each in turn. “I think we can agree that everyone at this table cares about Lee and wants him to be happy.”

“I certainly do.” Rachel thwacked her mug against the tabletop with more force than she’d intended. “But how can I know what’s best for him when I can’t even figure out what’s best for myself?”

“That’s true.” Ann shocked them all by agreeing with Rachel. “Although I think we all know what would be best for you at this point, and that would be to put poor Ian Smith out of his misery.”

“I’m sorry,” Rachel interrupted, her face going hot, “but when did we change the subject?”

“I haven’t changed the subject. If Lee and Sharon can go from zero to engagement in a matter of weeks, the least you could do is admit that you want to date Ian.”

A fine mist broke out on Rachel’s forehead. She picked up a coaster and fanned herself. Maybe Lynn wasn’t the only one starting menopause.

“How many dates have you two been on?” Lynn smiled as if she knew a secret. “Two? Three?”

“None,” Rachel said flatly. She fiddled with the coaster.

“I’d say at least two.” Ann ran the tips of her fingers back through her hair, smoothing flyaways into her ponytail.

“Those weren’t dates,” Rachel defended.

“But you have been seeing each other,” Lynn clarified.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘seeing each other.’” Rachel over-exaggerated the air quotes. “I just helped serve food at the soup kitchen where he volunteers because they were shorthanded one day and he couldn’t find anyone else to fill in. And, sure, I happened to stand next to him the entire time because he was serving potatoes and I was serving peas—”

Ann held up her index finger. “Date Number One. Didn’t it last like four hours?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

Lynn’s tone was speculative. “Four hours of chatting…over food…sounds like a date to me.”

“Yeah, because most people on dates wear hair nets and plastic gloves.”

“Did he pick you up and drive you home?”

Rachel ignored Ann’s pointed question. “Then he and his partner Garcia volunteered to help as security on the night of the school’s Christmas Festival, but that’s only because Yolanda Martinez asked if anyone from the precinct could be on hand to help with parking and traffic and he said yes—”

Ann interrupted. “And then Garcia invited you to stop in at her family Christmas party afterwards, where you sat in a corner and talked to someone for the entire night—oh wait, who was that again?”

“Ian Smith, wasn’t it?” Lynn clarified, obviously enjoying herself.

The traitor.

“Enough.” Rachel sliced her hand through the air, annoyed as much with them as she was with herself for rising to the bait. “Those weren’t dates.”

Ann coughed a word that sounded suspiciously like denial. At a sharp look from her sister, she shrugged. “Whatever you say, Rachel.”

“Look.” Rachel rummaged in her bag. She pulled out her Resolutions Notebook, flipped to the first page, and held it outward as if she were a librarian conducting story time. “What does this say?” Her tone had gone razor thin. Had any of her students been in Stu’s Diner, they would have had the sense to duck and cover.

“Resolved,” Ann read aloud, squinting. “To stop reading into situations and creating groundless, alternate storylines in my head.”

Lynn pushed her hair from her forehead. “But Rachel, this isn’t in your head. Ian Smith has told you repeatedly that he likes you.”

“False!” Rachel cried.

The two women stared at her.

“He only said it once,” she said in a small voice.

Ann sighed and threw up her hands.

Rachel swiped sweat from her upper lip. “And that was way back when we first met. Before I acted like a crazy person.”

Ann snorted. “Which time?”

Lynn shook her head. “Ann, that’s hardly helpful.”

Ann leaned back in her seat and signaled for the check.

“Listen,” Rachel said. “I’m done operating on assumptions. You two should know better than anybody. That sort of thinking never gets me anywhere.” She slapped the notebook shut and slid it back into her bag. “Aren’t you always telling me not to assume things? Well, here’s one thing I will not assume. Until the day Ian Smith has ‘the talk’ with me, I will not assume that there’s anything more between us than friendship.”

“Boo,” Ann commented.

Lynn tilted her head, studying Rachel thoughtfully. She pulled her wallet from her purse and counted out her portion of the bill. This she handed over to Ann. “I don’t know, Rachel. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I think you’re misapplying your first resolution in this case.”

Rachel shrugged. Only time would tell.

~*~

On the first Sunday of the new year, Rachel settled into her seat and opened her Bible for the sermon, giving herself a mental pep talk. She would pay attention, take notes, and stay focused—no matter what. She pulled her Resolutions Notebook from her bag and opened to a fresh page, scrawling the words Sermon Notes across the top.

Of all the resolutions, this seemed the most straightforward and achievable. It was certainly the easiest to track. At the end of the year, she would hand the notebook to Lynn with a smile, watching as her friend flipped through pages of detailed sermon notes. She could almost taste the triumph. Caught in her vision of glory, Rachel missed the text. “What did he say?” she hissed to Lynn’s husband Alex.

“We’re in John 14 to start,” Alex murmured, “but Galatians 5 is the primary text.” He gestured toward the front of the sanctuary, where Rachel noticed the texts prominently displayed on a screen above the pastor’s head. The title of the new sermon series starting that day blazoned across the top of the screen: The Work of the Holy Spirit in the Life of the Believer.

Ignoring Alex’s pitying tsk-tsk sounds, she happily scrawled her notes, thrilled at the serendipitous timing of a new series the very day she instituted her resolution. She didn’t want to read into anything, but this couldn’t be coincidence.

In books there are always signs: symbols, warnings, portents, and foreshadowings. She’d often felt disappointed that life didn’t follow such patterns. Now, however, in seizing control of her personal growth and seeking real change, anything seemed possible. Even signs.

These resolutions were going to work. She would change, and that change would bring results.