“May the Lord watch over us while we are apart, and may He keep us safe until we are reunited as a family.”
She had ended those calls, thankful that no one in her commune had notified her parents, telling them about her and Lucien. If her parents didn’t say anything, in her mind that meant that the members belonging to her Sect didn’t know and her behavior had not caused reason to ask questions. Growing up as a child she’d never lied to her parents and in this instance she found comfort in telling herself that she had not lied; she’d simply chosen not to share this information. One day Rachel had given her actions a name; she’d raise one brow, then she’d said...”Classic case of don’t ask don’t tell”. Ona didn’t know if it was that simple, but the principle was sound and it fit her circumstances. She would think about this whenever she roamed around her family home purposely refusing to consider her parents. She didn’t want to think about what they would say or how they would react when they’d learned that she’d taken advantage of their trust. She recoiled when any bad thought entered her mind; that made it easier for her. She would hum a verse, recite an encouraging reed; until thoughts of Lucien flowed like water. It didn’t take much for that to happen because after her prayer time, Ona would think of nothing or no one else. At night when she was alone, Ona would lay awake thinking about Lucien but she never considered outcomes. Once when she’d cross paths with his sister, she’d seen something strange in her eyes; a stare that had haunted her. Chantel had not been unkind to Ona but her gaze had been a picture of misgivings. She also made a point to remind her brother about Marisela and that she would join them at her dinner party. Ona had remembered this name and she also recalled the first time she’d seen her on the street with Chantel.
Ona rarely talked about her relationship with Lucien, yet Rachel had offered to be her sounding board, primarily because she understood the delicate nature surrounding this choice. Even though weeks had passed, she was always amazed at how quickly the brain could sum of thoughts using only a few seconds. Not much time had passed between Rachel’s question and the thundering sound of a crashing object.
Sahara plopped an industrial size three hole punch on the counter, causing both women to gape in her direction.
Rachel slanted her head at an angle. She pursed her lips and she didn’t mask her annoyance. She said...
“You don’t have to do that you know. I told you that I’d take care of the front desk.”
Sahara pulled on one of her locks returning her gaze...
“I don’t mind. Besides...isn’t someone due to arrive.”
It didn’t pass their notice that her statement had not been a question. And they also noticed her squinty eyes. Every week since she’d agreed to see him, one of Lucien’s conditions was that he would stop by the Children’s Center at the close of each day. Around the center, everyone knew that Lucien Delors made daily visits and they didn’t talk about it because she was a Samaritan, and they didn’t have to be Samaritan's to know that Ona’s choice was an unmentionable subject; plus, every volunteer at the Children’s Center loved Ona and they wanted to protect her secret. They all hoped that everything would somehow work itself out. Well, almost all of them.
Sahara had lowered her head, and Rachel glanced at Ona, then she rolled her eyes before saying...
“Did you close down the computers in your office?”
Rachel had created a series of code phrases, and this was one of them. Everyone knew that Sahara didn’t care much for Lucien, and everyone also knew the reasons for her aversion.
Ona looked at Sahara and she noticed that her attention was fixed on her task. The opera house was three times the size of the warehouse and the shutdown was triple the time; basically that meant that the place required an all hands on deck methodology. As a rule, Ona had come to rely on Rachel and Sahara the most. These women never needed to be asked to help and they would stay as late as Ona needed them.
Ona considered Rachel’s code, when she finally answered her.
“I haven’t closed up my office. Can you help me Rachel?”
“Girl...you needn’t ask.”
The two women were off, leaving Sahara to abuse the office equipment or kick a wall if it would make her feel any better. Sahara heaved a sigh, willing her eyes not to raise. She poured her focus on the desk and the sequence to close out the computer files. She told herself, as long as she kept her hands busy, they wouldn’t be free to choke a certain insanely rich handsome man.
When the women were alone, Rachel sang a tune, because she treasured her moments alone with Ona.
Rachel said...
“That brother of yours--I could shake him, if I didn’t love him so much.”
While Ona had been secretly dating Lucien; Rachel had been corresponding with Caleb. And the woman couldn’t keep a secret.
Ona said...
“When did you last talk to my brother?”
“A week ago. Actually...six days, eighteen hours, and twenty-two minutes.”
Ona wanted to gasp because Rachel had it bad for her brother.
Ona said...
“They’re nearing the end of their project. Caleb and my parents, that is.”
Rachel heard a tremble in her voice, and she didn’t mince her words.
“Yep, that’s right--and you had better pony up, the same as me.”
Ona had worked outside of her commune at an early age but she always got hung up on regional vernacularisms; and Rachel spoke in these terms more than anyone she’d ever met in her life.
Ona said...
“Do you mean that...” she stopped, mainly because she had no idea what Rachel was talking about.
Rachel calmly said...
“Look Ona...by now, you know that I don’t mince my words. I say what I mean and I mean what I say.”
Ona nodded, then Rachel said...
“Ona--everybody around here knows about you and Lucien except for your family--and according to Caleb, soon he and your parents will return home.”
This too, she knew, so she nodded while Rachel continued.
“Well...I’ve given Caleb a few ultimatums. I won’t be dicked around--excuse my language, but I made the mistake of falling in love with him, and I’m pretty sure that he feels the same about me.”
“Did he offer you his band?” Ona spoke in terms that she understood, and Rachel didn’t correct her. She simply shifted her gears, and told her what was what.
“No...he didn’t ask me to marry him and he didn’t say that he loved me in terms that you would understand...but a girl knows.”
“How does a girl know?” The question had been more for her than Rachel, but her friend had clinched down on this topic and there was no prying her loose.
They were standing in front of the door to Ona’s office, when Rachel stopped, and this had caused Ona to face her.
Rachel’s eyes held an expression that puzzled yet drew her in. As politely as one could say these words; somehow Rachel managed to execute her sentiment.