Dear Diary,
I’ve missed a few weeks of writing. I just didn’t feel like writing anything. I had nothing new. Thanksgiving is this Thursday. No one has said a word about it. I know Mrs. Churcher won’t do anything. Even though I’m tired, I told Mr. Churcher that I would be happy to make the Thanksgiving meal. He said that would be nice. I’ll take Jacob shopping with me tomorrow. I don’t know how to make pumpkin pie, but I think it will be easy. One pie will be enough for us. My mother is very good at baking pies. She’ll make apple, mincemeat, pumpkin, and cherry. There will be a big turkey. The whole family and Aunt Genielle and her two hundred children will be there. I miss my family. I wonder if they’ll talk about me at dinner and ask how I’m doing at school. My mom will say, Oh, you know Noel, she always gets good grades.
I don’t think anyone around here is very grateful for anything these days. If a meteor came down and landed on this house, everyone would probably be better off. Except Jacob. If a meteor came down, I would put my body over his and try to shield him. I would give my life for this little boy. What am I thankful for this Thanksgiving? I’m thankful for him.
Noel
DECEMBER 19
I woke the next morning with a light hangover. I had slept in a little. It was almost nine. Hangover or not, a big smile crossed my face. I felt like I’d just won the lottery. Rachel wanted me too.
I pulled on some shorts and a T-shirt, then walked to her room. At first I slowly opened the door, trying not to let in too much light. To my surprise, the room was filled with light. The blinds were open and the room was empty.
“Rachel?”
She probably just went out for a walk, I thought. I walked into her bedroom. “Rachel.” I checked her bathroom. Her suitcase was gone. Everything was gone. She was gone.
I walked back out to the front of the suite. On the counter next to the door was a note.
Dear Jacob,
I woke in the middle of the night feeling dark and heartsick. Most of all, ashamed. What am I doing here, sharing a room with another man? What kind of woman sneaks off on a trip with another man, then tries to seduce him? I am so, so ashamed. I tried to tell myself that last night was an accident, that it was the wine, but I know the truth. I didn’t need to see your father. There’s nothing he could tell me that you couldn’t have relayed to me. The truth is, I wanted to go with you because I wanted to be with you. And that’s wrong. It’s wrong that I like that you get jealous of Brandon. It’s wrong that I’d rather be with you than him. Most of all, it’s wrong that after all of Brandon’s trust in me, I chose to cheat on him.
Last night you told me that you loved me because I was a really good person. Obviously, I’m not. I want to be. But I’m not. You deserve a good woman. You did the right thing last night. I didn’t. I’m not the woman I thought I was. Thank you for respecting me enough to not make my sin worse. Please forgive me. I will never stop thinking of you. With love always,
Rachel
P.S. Thank you for letting me read my mother’s journal. I wanted to take it with me, but it’s not mine. I realize that she belongs to you too.
I put the note back down on the counter, then kicked the cupboard door beneath it.