Hi Janie, It's Rachel

“Hi Janie, it’s Rachel. I just left ballet class and I was hoping to catch you before your shift started. I wanted to let you know how much I love you. You’re so thoughtful, kind, and smart. I am so lucky to be your girlfriend. Can’t wait to see you tonight! Love ya.”

The voicemail arrived in Felicity’s inbox mid-morning on a Tuesday from a number she did not recognize. Felicity was busy and gave the voicemail a single courtesy listen before carrying on with her day. She didn’t delete it, though. Perhaps she planned to text the number that had left the message, to let Rachel know her call didn’t reach Janie. But as Felicity became inundated with work meetings and picking her daughter up from school, she never returned to the voicemail.

In fact, Felicity forgot entirely about the message until she received another voicemail, this one from her car insurance office, a week later. She listened to the new message and called her agent back right away, but then paused for a moment to listen to Rachel’s message again. She was waiting in the pick-up line at Elmwood Elementary and had a few moments to herself. In the solitude of her sedan, she noticed how soft and tender Rachel’s voice was. Though the mystery woman said how much she loved her girlfriend Janie, it was her tone of voice that really conveyed the message.

“Hi Momma!” Kailey chirped as she opened the car door and slid into the backseat.

“Hi baby,” Felicity replied. She hoped her voice contained even a fraction of the tenderness Rachel’s voice had. It was something to aspire to, she decided. It didn’t matter how fatigued she was after work. Her daughter deserved to feel as loved as Rachel made Janie feel.

But once again, Felicity moved on from the voicemail without ever letting Rachel know that it had been delivered to the wrong number. A week had gone by. Surely Rachel and Janie had talked and laughed at Rachel’s folly for calling someone else by mistake. Yet, Felicity didn’t delete the message. Something compelled her to hold onto it for reasons she didn’t quite understand.

Another few weeks passed and the voicemail continued to linger in Felicity’s inbox.

“My lawyer just needs to take one final look at everything and we’ll be good to go,” Nathan said over the phone on a Friday afternoon. “Thanks for signing the papers, Feli.”

“Don’t call me that,” Felicity snapped. Of course her ex-husband was being sweet to her after she’d signed the divorce papers. “I’ll bring Kailey to see you next weekend.”

“No need to be bitchy,” he sneered. Ah, there was the man she was divorcing.

“Next Friday at three,” she reminded him. “Don’t be late this time.”

He sighed deeply, the same resentful, you’re-asking-way-too-much-of-me sigh that she’d heard countless times. Before he could say whatever awful thing he was going to say next, Felicity ended the call.

She sat alone on the end of her bed, just holding her phone in her hand for a moment before returning to the living room to watch a movie with Kailey. She tried not to burden her daughter with the emotional turmoil of the divorce and wanted to settle her emotions before leaving the privacy of her bedroom. As she wiped away the angry, bitter tears forming in her eyes, she pulled up her voicemail again and listened to Rachel’s message.

Nathan had never spoken to her like that. He never called her just to say he loved her or doted on her with compliments. He certainly never indicated that he felt lucky to be her husband. Yet these kinds of conversations seemed to be commonplace between Rachel and Janie. Felicity was jealous of them, of these two women she’d never met, and the bond they shared. She was envious of a love so pure and genuine. A love she’d never experienced herself, not from Nathan anyway.

Months passed. The divorce was finalized. A visitation schedule was set. Felicity could finally move on from her disastrous marriage and focus on her new life with her daughter. She put her head down and got a promotion at work. She threw Kailey an exceptionally amazing 9th birthday party. Life seemed to be going swimmingly. And all the while, she kept Rachel’s voicemail saved in her inbox. On really hard days she’d pull out her phone and listen to the message again. Maybe she imagined a new partner talking to her like that. Maybe she imagined Rachel, whoever she was, wrapping her up into a hug and telling her that everything would be okay.

It wasn’t just Rachel’s sweet voice or the love she had for her girlfriend. There was something about it being queer love between two women that pulled deeply at Felicity’s heartstrings. She dated women before she met her husband and somehow convinced herself that being with a man was best. But now that he was gone, she was lost and adrift. She wasn’t sure where she belonged anymore.

Felicity thought sometimes about calling Rachel’s number or even just sending a text. But she wasn’t sure what she’d say to her. Her parasocial relationship with the mistakenly left voicemail was difficult to explain after all this time had passed. So perhaps it was best kept to herself.

And then her phone died. Well, smashed is probably a better word. It was a particularly busy mid-winter morning and Felicity was juggling too many things in her hands, trying to get Kailey out the door and to school on time. The phone slipped out of her pocket and skidded under her car without her even noticing. It wasn’t until she arrived at work that she realized it was missing. Retracing her steps, she found the device reduced to shattered glass and pulverized metal in her driveway.

Felicity knelt down in the frost and picked up the remains of her phone, tears coming to her eyes. Rachel’s voicemail was gone, along with her number. The phone could be replaced, but not the message mistakenly left by a stranger.

Felicity’s new phone was fancy. She’d sprung for the upgraded model as a present for yet another promotion at work. Yet the expensive new gadget did not please her like a new toy ought to. She kept opening the voicemail inbox, hoping that maybe the universe had somehow transferred Rachel’s message to the new phone. But it did not. Rachel’s voice was gone.

More time passed. Spring came and left. Kailey was out of school on summer vacation. Felicity took her daughter to the pool one Saturday afternoon and lounged under a big umbrella. She mindlessly played sudoku as the kids played and splashed. All in all, she’d survived without her emotional support voicemail from Rachel. Perhaps it was for the best that the message had been lost with the old phone. It was weird to rely on a stranger’s comforting voice and sweet words to someone that was not her.

But as Felicity typed numbers into her sudoku app, a call came through on her phone. It was a number not saved to her contacts, but one she recognized. A number she’d stared at countless times on her old phone. It was Rachel. Felicity’s mouth went dry and the blood drained from her face. She let the call ring twice before sliding her finger across the screen to answer.

“Hello?” she said, her voice cracking.

“Hi!” Rachel said. “Janie?”

“No,” Felicity said, desperately hoping Rachel wouldn’t immediately hang up on her.

“Sorry,” Rachel apologized, “I think I have the wrong number again.”

“No, wait,” Felicity pleaded. “Is this Rachel?”

“Yes?” Rachel responded uncertainly. “Who is this?”

“My name is Felicity. You left a voicemail on my phone last year for Janie,” Felicity tried to explain.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rachel said. “I’m using a landline and I have to dial the number each time I call. Sometimes my finger slips and–”

“No, no,” Felicity protested. “I really liked your message.” She paused awkwardly, unsure how to communicate what she was feeling without coming across as a total creep. “I had just gone through a bad divorce and hearing how much love you have for your girlfriend inspired me to, I don’t know, want to find my own love like that. Not to settle, you know? It brought me a lot of comfort to know that someone could love their girlfriend as much as you love Janie. It made me think that maybe someone could love like that too.”

“Oh,” Rachel said, obviously embarrassed. “You’re welcome?”

“I’m sorry, I sound like a complete weirdo,” Felicity stammered.

“It’s okay,” Rachel said. Her voice took on the same comforting tone of the lost voicemail. “I’m glad it helped you.”

“Thank you, Rachel,” Felicity said. “Seriously.”

Kailey waved to her mother from across the pool, signaling that she wanted her to watch her go down the waterslide. Felicity cleared her throat uncomfortably, trying not to cry.

“Hey,” Rachel said, somehow picking up on the emotion welling up in Felicity’s voice. “Janie and I host a ladies trivia night down at the Junebug Bar on 8th street. If you ever wanted to join us, we’re always looking to get more folks involved. I can’t promise it’ll find you a partner, unless you’re into women,” she added with a laugh. “But maybe you’ll find some cool gal pals.”

“I’d like that very much,” Felicity said with a smile. “I dated women before I met my ex-husband. Maybe I ought to get back to my roots and where I really belong.” Suddenly all the pieces were falling into place.

“Wonderful,” Rachel said. “Janie and I look forward to seeing you there. Uh, what was your name again?”

“Felicity.”

“I’m Rachel.”

“I know.”

Both women burst into laughter.