Rachel From the Edge Pt. 15

Rachel from the Edge pt. 015

by G. Lawrence

Rachel's journey comes to an end

We have reached the concluding episode of Rachel's journey with the Benson family. They have all come a long way, and still have a way to go.

* * * * * *

Chapter Eighteen

GIFTS

Rachel used the upstairs bathroom, impressed by the gold fixtures, and took Hattie up on her offer of more comfortable clothes. Pamela and Rory found her in Hattie's bedroom changing into purple silk pajamas. The slippers were fluffy.

"I don't know what to say," Rory began, her eyes misty.

"There's nothing to say. Unless you're mad," Rachel said. "You can yell at me if you want to."

"I don't want to," Rory said, hugging her.

"You surprised me again," Pamela said, also reaching for a hug.

"You didn't leave me much choice. Are you mad?"

"No, dear. I'm tougher than that. Though not half as tough as you are."

"I'm not so tough, but I am confused. The math--"

"Rach, if there's anything you've taught me," Rory interrupted, "it's that the math only works if you use your heart."

"Honey, I'm going to tell you what I told the family, so there won't ever be any misunderstandings," Pamela said. "When Daniel died, I dismissed you as his latest fling. Beautiful. Sexy. Probably shallow and insipid. And then I learned what Daniel really saw in you. Your dedication, and your courage, and a desire to help others at any cost to yourself. I've never known anyone more giving. I'm not sorry I helped you that day. I'm not sorry I'm going to keep helping you. And I'm not sorry that I love you. Are we communicating?"

Rachel reached for another hug, her eyes filled with tears. Rory found tissues for her off the nightstand.

"Mom, I agree with everything you said," Rory added. "But you forgot to mention that Rach is stubborn, and pigheaded. And a little crazy. And she has a terrible temper."

"She does, dear, she does," Pamela agreed. "But Rachel makes up for it by being pretty."

Rachel laughed. It was the first time they'd seen her happy in days.

"I love you guys so much," Rachel said. "I'm sorry I got mean."

"Family are allowed to do that, dear," Pamela said, looking over at Rory.

Rachel needed to sit on the bed, her legs tired. Rory sat next to her, helping with the thick burgundy robe. Rachel was having trouble getting her arms down the sleeves.

"Are you drunk?" Rory asked.

"A little. But no numbers. They're gone for a while."

"Did you get a solution? Is it the one you wanted?" Pamela said.

Rachel nodded, but didn't elaborate. They noticed she was wearing the ring again.

"Now that you've survived that crucible, what are you thinking?" Pamela asked.

"I don't want to do too much thinking. Not today. It's too hard. I want to get drunk, wake up in a warm bed, and have no one hitting me."

"We can help with that, but don't get sloshed until after dinner. You don't want to make a bad impression," Rory said, making Rachel laugh again.

"Tea until after dinner, and then no promises," Rachel said.

They went downstairs to the parlor, Rachel finding her spot on the floor near the tree. Bobby, Darlene, and the younger cousins were quick to gather around, asking if she needed anything. They were surprised to learn Rachel knew their names, and though shy, she managed to make small talk with each of them. The seniors acknowledged her with respectful nods. Rory began talking about Sheila's holiday trip to Paris, letting Rachel escape further scrutiny.

Family members exchanged presents, mostly tokens. Aunt Hattie gave Rachel a generous gift certificate to Saks Fifth Avenue. Rachel offered to make banana bread for her. There was a lot of talking.

When it came to Rachel's turn, everyone hushed up. She didn't sense any of the earlier hostility, only curiosity.

"I don't really know anyone, except a few of the Bensons," Rachel said. "I just have a few things to give, if that's okay?"

Rory had been on the couch next to her cousins, but slid down to the floor. Rachel handed her a green envelope.

"We talked about this before, but now it's official. Mr. Mendelson was very helpful getting it expedited," Rachel explained. Rory opened the envelope and showed everyone. It was the pink slip on the 1957 Maserati. Rory gave her a grateful hug. Then Rachel handed John an envelope.

"I know you said to keep the car, but you look so good in it. I can still take the bus." John proudly showed everybody the pink slip for the '65 Shelby.

"Thank you, Rachel. Maybe one day we can drive it back to Boston together?" John said. Rachel gave a noncommittal smile and reached for another envelope.

"William?" she said, holding it out.

"What? No," William said, backing away.

John took the envelope so Rachel wouldn't have to get up, and walked it over. William opened it in silence, and then left the room.

"Bensons never were any damn good at saying thank you," Aunt Elly said.

"What was it?" Greenly asked.

"The pink slip to Dad's Ferrari," John said.

"You gave Billy the Ferrari? After ... after ...?" Rory sputtered.

"His father wanted him to have it," Rachel said.

"That's generous, Rachel, but I wish you hadn't," Pamela scolded. "Rewarding Billy's bad behavior will only make matters worse."

"I'm sorry, Pam, but you're wrong," Rachel said. "What William needs is a big brother to lean on. A sister to hug. A mother to say everything is going to be okay. It's hard being angry all the time."

Many in the room murmured approval. Rory noticed Aunt Hattie nodding with satisfaction. Even Uncle Sherbet was giving Rachel an admiring look.

"I'll try to reach out more," John said.

"Me, too. I guess," Rory reluctantly agreed.

"He'll get no sympathy from me," Pamela said, her arms crossed.

William reappeared in the doorway, the pink slip still in his hand. He entered and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Rachel, making John nervous.

"I'm sorry I hit you," William said. "I'm sorry for everything. And I'm sorry I wasn't man enough to apologize. I can't take the car. Not until I've earned it, so you need to take this back." William handed her the pink slip.

"Are you sure?" Rachel asked.

"There is something you can give me." William reached in his shirt pocket and took out a yellow card.

"What's that?" Sherbet asked.

"It's a playing card. From a Monopoly set," Rory replied.

"It's the get-out-of-jail-free card," Rachel said, showing it to the room.

"You gave him one of those yesterday," Oliver complained.

Rachel looked at William, studying the pensive green eyes. He seemed sincere. She couldn't be sure, but it wasn't her job to dash his hopes.

"William, would you please accept this from me?" she said, handing him the card.

"Thank you, Rachel. I won't ever hurt you again."

"I know," Rachel replied. "I have one more envelope, but I don't know how it will be received." She gave the envelope to William, who gave it to Pamela.

"What can this be? You've run out of cars," Pamela said with a smile. And then she stopped smiling. "No. No, don't do this."

"The Marburys and Bensons founded the company. It should stay in the family," Rachel said.

Pamela went around the room, showing the gift. It was a deed of trust giving up Rachel's share of Marbury & Benson.

"We talked about this before," Pamela said.

"If the probate court rules against Daniel's provisions, it won't be mine anyway. Or the house, or the money. If the court wants everything back, I don't know how I'm going to pay for those cars I just gave away."

"There's doubt about the will?" Greenly asked.

"No, there is no doubt about the will," Pamela said. "Rory, are you contesting the will? John?" She paused to look at her younger son. "Billy?"

"No contest from me, Mom," William quickly said.

Pamela sat on the couch, hovering over Rachel with the trust deed in her hand.

"You aren't trying to wiggle out of your contract, are you?" Pamela asked.

"I don't have a contract, Mrs. Benson. You fired me."

"Everyone, you need to understand. Rachel is enjoying a joke at my expense," Pamela explained. "It's actually quite ironic."

"Going to clue us in?" Hattie asked.

"Rachel was never Danny's lab assistant. She's doing remarkable research. Research only she knows how to do. Houston Inquisitors wants her. Constant Dynamics wants her. She can afford to give Marbury & Benson back because she can write her own ticket now. She doesn't need me."

Rachel started to protest. Pamela wouldn't be interrupted.

"I'm sorry, dear. You've expressed loyalty many times, and I love you for that. But the truth is the truth. And I'm not accepting your share of the company. You see, sweetheart, I don't need the money, and without you, owning M & B wouldn't be any fun."

Pamela crumpled the deed up and threw it in the fireplace.

Rachel tried to get up for a hug, but her legs were too stiff. Pamela sat down next to her.

"Do you want to tell them about your project?" Pamela whispered.

"I'm not ready yet. Maybe after dinner and a few more drinks."

"Don't drink too much," Pamela warned.

"Gosh, Mrs. Benson," Rachel replied. "I'm on vacation."

* * * * * *

The gathering in the parlor broke up. Some went to use the bathrooms. Others went outside to smoke. The staff had returned, resuming preparations for the meal. Rachel retired to the pantry, fascinated by the wide variety of spices, oils, powders, syrups, sugars, grains, and preserves. Oliver joined her there a moment later.

"I could spend weeks in this kitchen," Rachel said, reading the labels.

"What you did for Billy is amazing. The whole family is in awe," Oliver said.

"William is a good kid, he just needed a break."

"Isn't it time to give me a break?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's time for you to forgive me. It's Christmas, after all."

"Is that what you want for Christmas, Ollie? My forgiveness?"

"Yes, that's what I want."

Rachel gave him a hug, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Ollie, I forgive you with all my heart," Rachel said. "But first, I need to scan you."

She put her thumbs up to her temples, wiggled her fingers, and hummed strange buzzing noises. And then she laughed, thinking it all ridiculous.

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" Oliver said.

"Never," Rachel replied.

* * * * * *

Dinner in the banquet hall was an elaborate affair. Silver candlesticks, a colorful tablecloth, four servers, and several turkeys. Three huge chandeliers hung over the table.

"Rachel seems in good spirits," John said, leaning over Rory's shoulder.

"Going ballistic heightened her adrenalin level, and the numbers are giving her a break. This is a rare night for her."

With other junior members, Rachel had been placed in the middle of the long table, the seniors on the ends. Bobby took a seat to her right, Darlene on the left, pushing Rory and John farther down. William got a seat directly across from her, trying not to stare. He hadn't noticed that delightful dance in Rachel's eyes before.

"Have you considered going back to Harvard?" Hattie asked from the head of the table.

"Harvard?" Rachel said.

"You only needed one more semester to graduate, and you have the money now. Isn't it time to finish that degree?" Hattie clarified.

Rachel looked at Pamela.

"It might be a year or two," Rachel replied.

"No time like the present," Uncle Sherbet said.

"There's another project first. It's almost finished. I think," Rachel said.

"Fill us in," Greenly pressed.

"You would be bored," Rachel replied.

"Rach, is there a way to explain it that an ordinary person might understand?" Rory asked.

"Your family isn't ordinary, Miss Benson," Rachel answered.

"The gal is right, Ro. We aren't ordinary," Uncle Sherbet said, raising his glass.

"Here, here," John and Bobby chanted, making it a toast.

"You are so cantankerous tonight," Pamela said.

"I've been taking lessons," Rachel answered.

"It would be nice to let the family in. Just a little bit. It's not going to be secret much longer," Pamela hinted.

Rachel sighed. She didn't want to discuss the project in an uncontrolled environment, but this was important to Pamela.

"I have received confirmation that the Level 12 extension is sustainable," Rachel said.

"What is a Level 12 extension?" Greenly asked.

"It's an interactive medical database," Rachel said.

"Is it a secret medical database?" Elly asked.

"The parameters haven't been established yet," Rachel said.

"Don't be shy, dear," Pamela urged.

Rachel got up, went to the big fireplace warming the hall, and took a sip of tea, organizing her thoughts. They could see she was nervous.

"There's no guarantee the program will be adopted," Rachel said.

"Why? What does this thing do?" Sherbet asked.

"Careful, Rach, we don't have eight hours," Rory warned.

"The program establishes a platform for quantum cross-referencing of accessible medical data while projecting a viable cost basis," Rachel said.

"Yeah. I don't know what that means," Greenly said.

"Is this something you're working on now?" John asked.

"The layering is complete," Rachel said. "Now I'm seeking to quantify the processing. The forensic program will coordinate cost analysis and means testing. Configuring the diagnostic protocols will take time, but it's just a matter of stabilization now."

"Yeah. I still don't know what you're talking about," Greenly said. Rachel took a deep breath, hesitant to elaborate.

"Ollie? What should I do?" she asked.

"As Pam says, it won't be secret much longer," Oliver replied.

"It's all right, child. We are your family," Aunt Hattie said.

Rachel sighed and fondled the ring. Which everyone noticed.

"The database coordinates health records," Rachel explained. "It examines medical history, DNA, diet, endemic regional factors, the qualifications of previous physicians, access to applicable technology, and ancestral proclivities. It will allow doctors to anticipate a patient's needs throughout their lifespan. Timetables will schedule treatments for conditions years before they manifest. Preventable diseases will be eliminated."

"This sounds big. How big is it?" Stacy-Jean asked.

"If the program functions as intended, it will provide cost-efficient universal healthcare," Rachel replied.

"What do you mean by universal?" Aunt May asked.

"Rachel's database is designed to provide healthcare for everyone in the world," Oliver said. "Sheila is going to Brussels for consultations. Pammy and I are headed for Washington in January."

"It won't provide care for everyone," Rachel corrected, sounding disappointed. "There will always be a percentage of each population beyond the program's reach. Cultural traditions in some regions may inhibit its use. And there will be individuals who choose not to participate."

"Are you saying a database can be created for the entire world? One that predicts diseases in advance?" Greenly asked.

"Not created," Oliver replied. "We're saying there already is a database for the entire world. The manner in which the information should be shared is the question."

"Will it take long?" William asked.

"If the program is adopted, implementation could begin in two years," Rachel replied. "Maybe three or four."

"It will change how healthcare is delivered on a global scale," Pamela said. "There will be new industries, and new methods of communication. Sheila and I are exploring our options. Rachel is concerned about public reaction."

"Public reaction?" Darlene asked.

"There are privacy issues," Oliver warned.

"I am a mathematician, not a healthcare provider," Rachel said. "Protocols need to be established, and I'm not qualified to make those decisions."

"I'm trying to understand this," Elly said. "You can provide healthcare for the whole world?"

"Me? Oh, no, Aunt Elly. I can't do that. People need to provide healthcare," Rachel said. "I can only tell them how to do it."

Everyone saw her expression. The bent eyebrows. The squinting eyes. The crinkled nose. Calculations pouring through her mind like a wild river. For a moment, she seemed to disappear. Lost in a fog of possibilities.

"Rachel? Rach?" Rory asked, taking her hand.

"I'm okay," Rachel replied, though Rory thought she was still drifting.

"Rachel, did you know that Einstein's Theory of Special Relativity has flaws?" Oliver said. It seemed to wake her up. The frown disappeared. The eyes looked brighter.

"Yes, isn't that sad?" Rachel said. "When Professor Einstein postulated that time and space--"

Pamela jumped up, joyfully embracing Rachel's shoulders.

"Do you all see it now? Do you see how special this woman is?" Pamela said.

"Smarter than me," Greenly said.

"Hell of a lot smarter than me," William agreed.

"Rachel and I had a wonderful talk yesterday. Sitting on the ice in the middle of the road wasn't so wonderful, but the talk was," Pamela said. "This will embarrass her, and I'm sorry about that, but the family has a right to know."

Pamela set Rachel down on the hearth and put a blanket across her knees. Rachel looked nervous, staring down at the floor. Rory sat next to her.

"I realize Rachel and I haven't known each other very long," Pamela said. "Only since Daniel died. Our relationship started off badly, but we fixed that. We fixed it because Rachel has a loving and forgiving heart, which you've all seen. I've come to love her, almost as much as I love my perfect daughter. I've asked to adopt her. Officially. I want Rachel to be my daughter."

Pamela studied the room for their reactions. Ready to challenge them all. There were a few smiles and some doubts.

"For those of you who aren't excited about this, you can relax. Rachel won't be giving me an answer right away. I know how she feels, but she doesn't know how the family feels. She won't impose herself."

"That's fair," Sherbet said.

"Can we still get stock tips?" Greenly asked.

* * * * * *

"You are the most stubborn little girl!" Pamela exclaimed.

"I let that quack tape my ribs. That's enough," Rachel said. "And I'm a little woman, not a little girl."

"You should have x-rays," Pamela insisted.

"The doctor is pretty sure I'm okay."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

They were in the living room of the Benson chalet, a roaring fire keeping the house warm. Rachel sat on the sofa, rolled up in blankets, looking comfortable. An illustrated copy of Sense and Sensibility lay on the end table.

"Go skiing. I'm going to rest up for Mr. Shadow's party tomorrow night," Rachel insisted. "There's going to be dancing."

"You watch out for that man. He's a player. What did he say the other day that made you blush brighter than a ripe tomato?"

"Mr. Shadow is making a new movie. He thinks I'm pretty, and that I should come to his home in Beverly Hills for a private screen test."

"A private screen test? Don't you dare! That's just a line they use to ... to ..." Pamela paused. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"Just a little," Rachel confessed.

"I don't want to leave you alone."

"She won't be alone," William said, entering from the kitchen carrying a tray. Pamela smelled soup.

"Billy? What are you doing here? You were told--"

"I invited him," Rachel said. "Is that my clam chowder?"

"Yes, ma'am," William said. "Heated at exactly the right temperature, for the exact right amount of time."

"It better be," Rachel said with a frown.

"I don't want to get you mad," William said.

"No, you don't," Rachel replied.

"Billy, don't take this the wrong way," Pamela said, "but there's no way in hell I'm leaving you here with Rachel. Get your jacket."

"You don't trust me?" William said.

"Not so much," Pamela replied.

"William and I will be fine," Rachel said. "But tomorrow, he goes skiing with the rest of the family."

"Rachel--" Pamela began to protest.

"Mrs. Benson, I've chosen William to help me today. I haven't requested anyone else's opinion."

Pamela wanted to object further, but Rachel was giving her that frown. The one that couldn't be argued with. She picked up her heavy coat and headed for the door.

"Ro and Johnny are going to have a problem with this. A big problem," Pamela warned.

"Then it's good they're already on the slopes, isn't it?" Rachel replied.

"You kids play nice," Pamela said, closing the door behind her.

"Thank you," William said, getting her a napkin.

"You made my lunch. I should be thanking you."

"You know what I mean. Everyone would think I'm a complete piece of shit if not for you. And they'd be right."

"That's not true. You just lost your way."

"What do you think I should do?"

"About what?" Rachel asked.

"About my life. I'm tired being the butt of everyone's jokes."

"Gosh, William, look who you're talking to. There are entire websites making jokes about me."

"And that sucks. Until a few days ago, I never realized how much."

"Some of the jokes are funny."

"No," William said. "They aren't."

"Pamela wants you back in school, but it's up to you. I'm the last one to give career advice."

"Everyone says you're a genius. That you're going to change the world."

"And I still wake up alone in the morning."

"I'm sorry I didn't get it. You and Dad."

"You had Daniel much longer than I did. I only knew him for a few years, and we barely dated for half of that."

"That's all?"

"I hoped it would be longer."

"Can you ever forgive me? For the things I said? And did?"

"Matthew 6:15."

"I haven't been to church lately."

"It means that by forgiving you, I find forgiveness for myself."

"Do you have so many sins to atone for?"

Rachel lowered her head and sipped her soup, not answering the question.

"We have photo albums. Would you like to see them?" William asked.

"I would like that very much," Rachel answered.

William searched under the cabinets, finding three large scrapbooks, and sat on the couch next to her. Rachel let him do the reminiscing.

"Grandma Benson made these. She passed away about five years ago."

"I recognize Daniel and Pam when they were younger."

"Mom and Dad went to Yale together," William said, showing more photos. "Dad was on the football team. Played quarterback. Mom played tennis. He got a business degree. Mom got a law degree from Columbia. The Bensons and the Marburys have known each other for generations. They were robber barons, whatever that means."

"I would have liked a degree," Rachel said, touching the pages.

"Aunt Hattie said you can go back to Harvard."

"That would have been nice. John decided to go to Stanford instead of Yale?"

"He wanted to stand on his own. He got good grades, too."

"John is very intelligent. Rory?"

"Ro? Hell, she was worse than I am. Total party girl. Barely made it through UCLA. Always causing scandals. Went into rehab. Then she got religion. Went back to school. Became the perfect daughter."

"And the perfect friend," Rachel said, leaning over to put her head against his shoulder. William sensed she was drifting.

"You've had many adventures. You like boats," Rachel said.

"It's great being out on the ocean. The water. The wind. Have you done much sailing?"

"I can't. When I get seasick, the numbers take over."

"What are these numbers everyone talks about? They sound terrible."

"They're a blessing, and a curse. When the numbers fill my head, they make it hard to communicate, but they also help me solve puzzles."

"Is it a disease?"

"No, it's a mental disorder. The night ... Did you see that TV show? With Kattie and Gresley?"

"Everybody did."

"I left out some information. After my father tried to-- do what he tried to do, I ran into the woods. Something happened. I fell down and couldn't move. Ants crawled on me. Bugs were biting. It was awful. But I was paralyzed. The despair was so bad, I just wanted to die. That was the night the numbers took over for the first time. If neighbors hadn't found me the next morning, I don't know what would have happened."

"Is there a treatment?"

"Not really. Nothing that can be relied on."

"What if my boat stays docked? Could you visit me at the marina?"

"I would like that very much. Have you considered making boats? Or designing boats?"

"God, that would be fun. But I wouldn't know where to start."

"That's the easy part," Rachel said. "Can we see the next album?"

* * * * * *

Just after sunset, the rented SUV pulled into the driveway.

"The house is dark. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew it!" Rory said, leaping from the car and running up the porch steps. She tested the door, which was unlatched. Everything was quiet.

"Oh, God," Rory muttered, wondering if she should wait for John. But she couldn't wait.

She crept forward. The foyer was murky. Appliances dimly lit the kitchen. She turned toward the living room where twisting shadows from the fireplace reflected off the dark walls. Someone was in the room. Sitting on the couch. In silence.

"Who's there?" she said.

"Be quiet. You'll wake her," William whispered.

He was resting back on the cushions, Rachel curled in his lap. Rory moved closer, kneeling on the floor. Rachel was fast asleep.

"She's really out. How did you do it?"

"We were looking at the albums. She just snuggled close and went to sleep."

"How long have you been sitting here?"

"I don't know. I'm afraid to move."

"Have you been crying?" Rory noticed.

"What if I have?"

"Nothing. No big deal," Rory said. "Let me help."

Rory lifted Rachel so William could slide free, then tucked the blanket tighter. She brought William into the kitchen.

"Thanks, my legs were falling asleep," William said. "How were the slopes?"

"Can't ask for better weather. How was the weather here?"

"Calm."

Rory paused to give her wayward little brother an appraisal. He seemed relaxed. Accepting. She wasn't feeling the anger anymore.

"You should get out tomorrow," Rory said, shedding her jacket.

"I should stay. Rachel might need me."

"She's tougher than she looks."

"You don't need to tell me that," William confirmed.

"We've still got a week of vacation left. Let's get her out on the bunny slope. Between the two of us, she'll do fine."

"Am I forgiven?"

Rory used a kitchen towel to wipe her brother's damp cheeks.

"She's magic, isn't she?" Rory whispered.

"Rachel is so brave. I know now why you love her so much. And after what she said about the numbers--"

"What? What did she say?" Rory asked.

"You know, about that night. In the woods. When she got sick and wanted to die."

"No, I don't know. What are you talking about?"

"The night her father attacked her, she ran into the woods and fell down. She couldn't move, and there were bugs. It was really bad. She thinks that's when the numbers took over."

"My God, she told you that?"

"She never told you?"

"No, Rach would never talk about it. With me, or anybody. I think we'll finally be able to help her now. I still can't believe she told you."

"Maybe it's because we're both screwed up," William said.

John entered the kitchen, sensing the tension.

"Is everything all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, everything's great," Rory answered.

"How's Rachel doing?" John asked.

William noticed Rory's subtle expression. It wasn't their place to discuss Rachel's secrets.

"Rachel ate soup, heated at exactly the right temperature, for exactly the right amount of time," William said. "Two cups of Earl Grey, half a bottle of Alpine water, two generic aspirin, and her medication. No mistakes were allowed."

Rory and John were still laughing when Pamela and Oliver entered carrying groceries.

"What's the joke?" Pamela asked.

"Billy made lunch for Rachel," John said.

"That sounds dangerous," Oliver mused.

"She said she'd cut me some slack this time," William said. "Did you bring the pasta? Rachel's looking forward to making dinner. She said I could help."

"Rachel said you could help? In the kitchen?" Rory asked.

"Are we talking about the same Rachel?" Pamela said.

"She said I should learn a trade," William replied.

After dispensing with their ski clothes, they gathered around the kitchen table. With Rachel still sleeping in the living room, their voices were kept low.

"I'm going back to school," William said. "Rachel says with my interest in boats, I could learn to build them. She says there's a program that makes design specifications more efficient."

"Is this something you would do, or something Rachel would do for you?" John asked.

"She said I could learn it myself, and it's not that hard," William said.

"It would be worth trying, dear," Pamela said. "But remember, what doesn't seem hard for Rachel may be harder for others."

"She looked at me. Real close. Her eyes were very brown, and then less brown, and then brown again. It was kind of creepy. And then she said I could do it. She wouldn't lie. I don't think she knows how."

Everyone exchanged glances. There were subtle smiles.

"If Rachel says you can do it, you can take that to the bank," Oliver said. "But are you ready for so much effort? It won't be easy."

William grew quiet. Wanting to say something but not sure how.

"Want me to make you a drink?" John asked.

"No. I won't be drinking for a while," William answered.

"Are you trying to tell us you've reformed?" Oliver asked.

"When Rachel went off the balcony, I was so scared. I thought my life was over. I'd be arrested for murder. Spend twenty years in prison. I saw everything. Dad's disappointment. Mom's. And I'll never forget Rachel's expression. How sorry she felt for me. I've got to change. I don't want to be that person anymore."

"It looks like all of my children are grown up now," Pamela said.

"What about your fourth child?" Rory asked.

"I still don't know how two of my current children feel about that," Pamela said. "When I first thought of adopting Rachel, it was impulsive. Selfish. I wasn't thinking how it would affect any of you."

"How would it affect Rachel?" William asked.

"You've seen how she is," Pamela replied. "She's never had a loving family. She's never had close friends. She needs us."

"Then make her say yes," William insisted.

"It's going to take time," John cautioned. "Rachel will never agree unless she's sure it's what everyone wants."

"What do you think, Ollie?" Rory asked.

"Your father worked hard to get Rachel out of her shell, but it was a struggle. You and Pam have done much better. I think you're the best thing that's ever happened to her."

"She'll make the right decision," Pamela said. "In the meantime, we're in Aspen for the holidays. We'll get Rachel all made up for Shadow's party, get her out on the bunny slope, take her shopping, and make sure she has a wonderful time. I think she's earned it."

Epilogue

REVELATIONS

"Friends, associates, ladies and gentlemen of the press, thank you for attending," Oliver said, holding his hands up for attention.

The crowded auditorium was noisy. Rumor had it that history was being made. Film crews lined the perimeter. Interpreters were present to translate for foreign dignitaries. Oliver stood center stage, waiting for the audience to quiet down. It was taking time for everyone to settle in. Big Bob had his security team keeping rowdies from causing too much trouble.

"Are you ready for this?" Pamela asked backstage, brushing down Rachel's navy-blue suit with its knee-length skirt. She wore a white scarf around her neck and a yellow daisy in the lapel.

"I don't know. Everything is happening so fast," Rachel replied.

"I realize this has been a busy year."

"And whose fault is that? You keep taking me to the theater. Playing golf. Bridge at the club. Tennis. You made me start dating again, even if that part has been a disaster. I'm not even allowed to work overtime anymore."

"I won't apologize for keeping you engaged. Didn't you like Mardi Gras? Wasn't it fun sitting on the sidelines at the Superbowl? And Rory's graduation cruise. I know you liked the Everglades."

"It's been a wonderful year," Rachel conceded.

"There are going to be many more."

"Is my makeup okay?"

"You look perfect."

"I'll be so glad when this is over," Rachel sighed.

"All you have to do is smile and look pretty. If reporters ask you questions, try to keep your answers under an hour."

"That's asking a lot."

"If you can't, it will teach them a lesson," Pamela replied. Rachel smiled, her shoulders relaxing.

"Christmas is only two weeks away. Is the family going to be okay with the adoption?" Rachel asked.

"Now that it's official, I can be patient about the announcement. Though we should tell Johnny and Billy before Rory does. Are you still going to be Rachel Montgomery, or will you become Rachel Benson?"

"Neither. I'm going to be Rachel Marbury."

"My maiden name?"

"I'm your daughter now, not anyone else's. Should we wait until I get back from school before telling the family?"

"It can be whenever you want, dear. For myself, I don't want to wait another minute. I want the whole world to know."

"Thank you, Mother," Rachel said, tearing up.

Sheila Marbury rushed over carrying her briefing notes.

"Isn't this exciting?" she said. "The business world hasn't been rocked like this since Henry Ford invented the Model T. Everybody is here. The press. Politicians. Diplomats. Titans of industry. No one is calling this a hoax anymore."

"I hope the presentation isn't premature," Rachel worried.

"There was no keeping a lid on it once the patents were approved," Sheila replied. "We need to strike while the iron is hot."

"Don't worry, honey, it's been vetted by our lawyers," Pamela added.

"It's scary," Rachel said.

"Changing the world should be scary. Thank you for letting me be part of it," Sheila said.

"You're not part of this, Sheba," Rachel said, taking her hands. "You're in charge of this. Daniel believed in you, and so do I. This is what you were meant for."

"I love you, little cousin. I will never let you down," Sheila said, rushing off.

"I know you still don't like her," Rachel mentioned.

"That's not important, dear. Sheila has made room for you in her cold, black, mercenary heart, and she lifts huge burdens off your shoulders. Even if I hated her, I would still love her for loving you."

"I know. I did the math," Rachel said.

Rory and William arrived, looking their best. Like Rachel, they weren't scheduled to speak, just appear on stage. Rachel hugged them, giving William special attention.

"Your classes?" Rachel asked.

"Never late. Doing all my homework," William said, offering a nautical salute.

"The women's shelter?"

"I like volunteering. I've even met a charming young lady."

"Keep up the good work, sailor," Rachel said, returning the salute. "Is that John with the famous Alicia?"

John approached with a graceful young woman. She looked like a Boston aristocrat, though Rachel didn't hold it against her.

"Congratulations, Rachel," Alicia said.

"Thank you for coming," Rachel replied. "And thank you again for a lovely Thanksgiving. I'd never been to Martha's Vineyard before."

"My folks want you back soon," Alicia said.

"Didn't my ramblings about quantum mechanics bore them to tears?" Rachel asked.

"I don't know that they paid much attention, but Dad was listening when you said to buy Drexel at 17."

"Everyone will be seeing a lot more of us from now on," John said. "It's good to be back with the family."

"Nothing is more important than family," Rachel said, taking Rory's arm.

"How are you doing? Engaged?" Rory asked.

"Pretty much. I think," Rachel replied. "Am I invited to Aspen this year?"

"We wouldn't go without you," Rory said.

"Will you let me ski Devil's Run?"

"Maybe not yet, little hurricane," Rory answered. "Let's try a few days on the bunny slopes first."

Rachel pretended to pout, making everyone laugh.

"I've got to say, Rachel, you're looking great," John said.

"I feel so alive. It's wonderful," she replied.

"Will you be able to make plans now? Stop living day to day," Rory asked.

"I'll be able to enjoy my friends. And my family. It's all because of you, Ro. All of it. I love you so much."

Rory began to tear up. Rachel found a tissue for her.

There was noise from beyond the curtains. The crowd was getting restless.

"Before we do this, there is something I must say," Rachel announced. "I realize I'm very strange. My parents called me a freak. Classmates at Harvard called me a robot. Parts of my brain depart for other locations, which can leave me confused. And distant. This family has given me strength. Thank you. Thank you all so much."

"Is it true you've been boxing up your office at M & B?" Alicia asked.

"Yes, my contribution to the project is almost finished," Rachel said.

"Finished? No, that can't be right. No one knows the database better than you," John said.

"I'm not the only one doing fractal engineering anymore," Rachel replied. "The kids in my department are already doing most of the work, and more are coming into the field. A few years from now, they'll be laughing at how primitive my techniques were."

"Will you be laughing?" Rory asked.

"I hope so," Rachel replied.

"You can't retire. You're only twenty-five years old," John said.

"I'm not retiring. I'm going back to Harvard."

"Finishing your degree? That's wonderful!" Alicia said.

"We'll help you find an apartment in Cambridge," John offered.

"I'll sail my boat to Boston," William promised.

Oliver suddenly walked up, looking grim.

"Speaking of new business, I have an announcement to make," he said. "Notice came in this morning. Daniel's will has finally been probated. And Rachel? I'm afraid it didn't turn out like you expected."

"What does that mean?" William said. "Rachel's being cheated out of her inheritance? No way! We'll fight this! We'll fight it all the way!"

"No, Billy," Oliver said. "Rachel has said all along that the house, and the money, and the business don't belong to her. But the probate judge disagreed. I'm sorry, lass, you're stuck with all of it."

They looked for Rachel's reaction. She seemed mildly surprised, as if it really couldn't be true.

"I'm not going to miss riding the bus," Rachel decided.

Sheila waved at them from the curtain.

"It's show time," Pamela said, catching her breath.

"Let's hold hands," Rachel suggested, Rory on one side, William on the other. They emerged on stage to steady applause, the audience numbering better than two thousand. Oliver went to the podium asking for silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce the Benson family, who have been the force behind this effort. And the young lady who has made it possible, Miss Rachel Montgomery."

The audience rose, many cheering. Rachel noticed business types, doctors, veterans, and school children, all wanting to witness the important event. Dr. Belcher was there, a few rows back, sitting next to Sister Louise. That was a conversation Rachel would have liked to hear.

"Thank you, thank you," Pamela said, taking over the podium. "For you on Wall Street, you know what this means. And though this project was started under the auspices of Marbury & Benson, we always knew it would be too big for such a small firm. Miss Montgomery and I have chosen to form a new corporation, for which there will be an IPO early next year. Miss Marbury?"

Sheila took center stage, sharply attired. She acknowledged the applause, pointing to friends and associates. No one doubted she had become a formidable power.

"Today, we are proud to officially announce World Health Database," Sheila said. "WHD's mission is to coordinate medical advisory systems all over the world, providing instant and accurate information to cure diseases, prevent diseases, and enhance the healthcare of every person on this planet. We're not announcing a theoretical model. The program is already tested and awaiting implementation."

Video screens around the hall showed timelines, maps, and projections. There was another round of applause.

"We realize civil libertarians have expressed concerns over privacy issues. Miss Montgomery was the first to raise this question, and she delayed the project until safeguards could be addressed. Protocols are being established to meet those concerns. But let us be clear. This is the beginning of a new era for our families, for our veterans, for our seniors, and for our children. We're going to wage war against the illnesses of this world, and we're going to win!"

Sheila waited patiently through a round of cheers, nodding as photographers came forward to take pictures.

"Now I'm going to get myself in trouble here," she continued. "Though I'm scheduled to complete this presentation, the honor belongs to someone else. Someone on this stage who is not scheduled to speak, but I think we deserve to hear from her. No one has worked harder to bring this day about, or made greater personal sacrifices on behalf of all of us. Please give a warm welcome for this shy, courageous, and brilliant woman. My dear friend, Miss Rachel Montgomery."

The audience rose to their feet applauding. Caught off-guard, Rachel looked around for help.

"What should I do?" Rachel said.

"Sorry to spring this on you, honey, but we all agreed," Pamela said, fixing her collar. "This is your moment. Shine."

Pamela guided her to the podium, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and withdrew to stand with her children.

"Be sure to speak into the microphone," Sheila said, graciously giving way.

"Think she's going to cry?" John whispered.

"You know she will," Rory answered, showing a pocket full of tissues.

Rachel stood like a deer caught in the headlights, her big brown eyes staring at the crowd. They quieted down, taking their seats.

"Gosh, this is awkward," Rachel finally said, getting a laugh. "I don't do much public speaking. And when I do ... Can I thank somebody? Am I allowed to do that?"

"It's your stage, honey. Do whatever the hell you want!" Ruth Sparrow shouted, sitting next to Martha in the front row.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sparrow. Is Dr. Borowski here? Dr. Jacob Borowski?"

"Over here, Rachel," the grizzled professor said, waving from the center aisle.

Rachel was delighted to see him, her eyes lighting up. Borowski sat down, not seeking accolades.

"Most of you don't know this, but eight years ago, Dr. Borowski flew all the way out from Harvard to a rundown café in the California desert. He came to meet a seventeen-year-old short-order cook with no achievements to her credit. He enjoyed breakfast, as he should. It was great. And then he told that young woman that she was going to college, get a real education, and realize her dreams. She was frightened, terribly introverted, dirt-poor, and had an erratic academic history. But none of that mattered to him. He saw something in her that no one else did, and here we are today. Thank you, Doctor. Thank you so very much."

Rachel clapped. The audience rose to give him a standing ovation. Dr. Borowski acknowledged the tribute with a nod. Rachel started crying. Rory dashed up with the tissues and ran back.

"I would not be on this stage if not for the love of my family, but I won't trouble you with those thoughts now. It would take hours, and I've been warned about that," Rachel continued, glancing back at Pamela.

"We gather today to announce the interactive database, but even the best information is useless for people who can't afford to use it. Our vision doesn't include leaving anyone behind. Therefore, the Benson and Marbury families, along with our corporate investors and many friends, are proud to announce the Daniel Jefferson Benson Foundation. This foundation will support clinics, subsidize doctors, and supplement services for those in need. It won't happen overnight, but it will happen. This is our mission."

Everyone was on their feet. Most were cheering. Some chanted "Rachel, Rachel", but Rachel shut that down.

"I realize Daniel was a controversial figure. His methods didn't always win approval. But he believed in me. He made achieving my dreams possible. Now the dreams of millions will be possible. I loved him, and I'm honored to present this foundation as his legacy."

Rachel was running out of tissues, and had nothing more to say. She waved and ran off stage, wiping her nose. Pamela met her behind the curtains.

"Did I do all right?" Rachel asked.

"Honey, no one could have done better. Daniel will be remembered now. Remembered the way you wanted. He would be very proud."

"Thank you, Mother," Rachel said, her eyes getting misty again.

"Dear, you have to stop tearing up every time you call me mother," Pamela gently chastised, brushing out her hair.

"Why?" her daughter replied.

* * * * * *

Thus ends Rachel's journey. I hope the readers who stayed with this story enjoyed the ending. There are two other Rachel novels in the series; Rachel Running on Empty and Rachel the Warrior, but they are not erotic. More romance and adventure, so I don't know that they have a place on the Literotica website. I am open to suggestions.