A picture came to Christy’s mind, something she had seen while shopping the other day with Aunt Marti. A darling little girl in pink tennies was shopping with her mommy. She had blond hair and pudgy cheeks and was just learning to walk. The mother put the toddler down while she looked through a rack of clothes. The toddler took about five wobbly steps before falling down, nose first. The mom scooped up her little angel, who was wailing loud enough for all to hear, kissed her on the nose, and then put her back down.
Christy thought the little girl would have stayed seated where the mom put her. But no, she stopped crying, stood up, and took six or seven more awkward steps until she touched her mommy. There she stood, smiling and holding on to her mother’s leg.
Now Christy saw herself as that little girl, trying so hard to walk yet falling every time. “Time for me to get up and try again, isn’t it, God?”
Feeling renewed enough to face the family, she sprang into action and showered and dressed in record time. The only really nice dress she had with her was a black one Aunt Marti had bought for her in Palm Springs last fall. It was definitely a party dress, even if the only party she would be going to was downstairs with a bunch of “old raisin” friends of Bob and Marti’s.
The dress made her look older than fifteen—all her friends said so. Her dad, who was always telling her to “slow down,” didn’t approve of dresses that made her look older than she was—like the blue one Aunt Marti had bought her last summer. Christy had worn it a few months ago to church and then out to lunch with Rick and some of his friends, and her dad had not been happy. Well, the black one was the only nice dress she had with her, and her father had said, “Put on your best dress.”
At six o’clock David knocked on her bedroom door. “I’m supposed to come get you,” he said.
Christy swung the door open, and the first thing, the only thing, she saw was David’s blinking bow tie. “David, you can’t wear that!”
“Why not? I’ll turn it off. Nobody will even know it blinks. Look, I even wore this dumb pink shirt.” He opened his jacket to give the full view of the shirt, but all Christy noticed were the tie wires.
“Come here,” Christy said, shaking her head. “If you’re going to be rigged, at least hide your wires.”
In a few minutes she had David completely rewired. As she tucked his collar down in the back, David squeezed the button in his pocket, causing his tie to blink twice.
Christy smiled. “I’m sorry about earlier, David. I shouldn’t have shoved you. You are my favorite hamster, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” David said with a smirk on his face. “Well, you’re my favorite beetle.”
“Beetle?” She scrunched up her nose.
“You look like a beetle—a black beetle. You’re all dressed in black with all that dark stuff on your eyes. You look like a beetle.”
Christy rushed over to the mirror in the hallway. Maybe he was right about the eye liner. She never could figure out how to put it on without it getting smeared or globby. Why did it always look good on the girls in the magazines? She quickly dabbed it off her eyelids.
“Come on,” David said. “I can hear music down there. Real music.”
David was right. As they swept down the stairs together, Christy was certain that the song “Greensleeves” came from a real instrument, not the stereo. And it sounded like a mandolin.
Christy and David saw their mom and dad, dressed nicely but not too formally, seated by the Christmas tree; the hundreds of twinkling lights in the dimly lit room played fancifully across Mom’s dark sweater. Uncle Bob, dressed in a black tuxedo with a sapphire blue cummerbund, stood by the fire with a glass of eggnog in his hand. The three adults turned when they saw David and Christy approach the entryway, and Aunt Marti stepped around the corner, dazzling in a sapphire blue gown with silver sequins.
“Don’t you two look marvelous! Look, Bob, Christy has on the dress I got for her in Palm Springs. Doesn’t she look wonderful?”
Christy looked to her dad to see if he approved. He didn’t. She could tell. But he smiled and said, “You sure these two are my kids? I don’t ever remember my kids looking like that.”
Everyone chuckled, and the music kept playing. Christy stepped into the living room, curious to see where the sweet melody was coming from. A musician, dressed in a black tux, sat in the dimly lit corner by the window, his head down, playing a mandolin.
Christy stood by the couch, listening and enjoying the end of the song. When the mandolin player plucked the last chord, he lifted his head. The gaze from his screaming silver-blue eyes shot across the room and sliced Christy right through the heart.
“Todd?” she whispered.
Todd stood and playfully gave a bow, then fixed his gaze back on Christy. She froze.
“Um, Mom, Dad? Have you met Todd?”
“Yes, we did earlier,” Mom said.
“Hey, dude!” David greeted Todd and rushed over to give him a high five.
“Surprised?” Aunt Marti asked, sidling up next to Christy; her expression, her hair, and her dress all shimmered.
Christy nodded, fixing her attention back on Todd. He looked incredibly handsome.
“Good,” Aunt Marti stated, apparently quite pleased with her prearranged New Year’s surprise. Or had Uncle Bob set this up?
A tiny crystal bell sounded from the dining room.
“Ah!” Aunt Marti looked even more pleased with herself. “Dinner is served. Shall we?”
Then, as if this were some royal ball, Marti offered her hand to Bob, and he graciously escorted her to the dining room. Dad hoisted his wife from her chair with about as much grace as a dairyman lifting a lame calf. They both laughed, and David picked up the crutches and held them for his mother.
Without saying anything, Todd stepped forward and offered Christy his arm as he played along with the “escorting to dinner” game. She slipped her arm through his hesitantly.
“You okay?” Todd asked softly.
She nodded. “Todd? About today on the phone, I’m sorry.”
“Hey. Don’t worry about it.”
But she did worry about it. She had completely given up on their relationship. In her imagination, Todd had been practically engaged to some other girl whom he was going to have dinner with tonight. She never guessed that she was the girl or that this was the dinner he was going to. She felt completely humbled.
At the dining room table, Todd pulled out her chair, and Christy seated herself. Then he sat next to her, swishing the white cloth napkin into his lap as if he dined like this every night.
Christy tried very hard to relax. Todd seemed fully himself, quite at home in a tux at a formal dinner. She never would have imagined it. There was so much she didn’t know about Todd.
A maid or some kind of caterer brought in bowls of steaming soup: cream of broccoli. Bob and Marti both eased their spoons into their soup, then noticed that no one else followed.
“Ah, yes!” Bob declared, setting down his spoon. “Would you offer thanks for us, Norm?”
Dad stood and prayed for the food and for the coming year, gave thanks for the past year, and prayed one by one for each person around the table. Christy had never heard him pray so eloquently.
Ever since they had moved to Escondido and become involved in their church as a family, a lot of things had seemed to come alive for them.
“Well, Norman, you’ve certainly become the preacher,” Marti exclaimed after he said, “Amen.”
Dad sipped his soup. His bushy eyebrows pushed together like two caterpillars in a head-on collision. “Anyone can pray, Martha. And there certainly is plenty to pray about these days.”
Marti didn’t reply.
“ ’Course,” Dad continued, “even if you’re a little rusty at it, it never hurts to give it another try.”
Marti slowly lowered her spoon. She didn’t look offended, merely determined to have the last word. “Some of us have given prayer and God a second try and a third. But then we w
ise up.” She lifted her spoon for emphasis. “And give up!”
Oh no! Christy thought. Not now, you guys! Don’t get into an argument over spiritual stuff now. Not in front of Todd!
Christy had seen standoffs like this between her parents and aunt and uncle before. She had had her own conflicts with them whenever she talked about her commitment to the Lord. But then Todd changed everything.
“That’s what I like about God,” he said in his matter-of-fact way, crushing a cracker into his soup. “We might give up on God, but He never gives up on us.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Bob said.
“You remember King David?” Todd asked. “In the Bible? He was called ‘a man after God’s own heart.’ But he blew it big time: adultery, murder. Still, God didn’t give up on him.”
No one said anything. They kept eating, politely listening.
“And Moses,” Todd continued. “Remember him? Great leader, right? Well, he killed an Egyptian. Then there’s Abraham. He lied—said his wife was his sister so that some king would spare him and take his wife instead.”
“What a jerk!” Christy interjected.
“Yeah? Well, Abraham did the same thing twice. Still, he’s called ‘the friend of God.’ ”
“So, what you’re saying,” Bob summed up, “is that the people in the Bible were all sinners, not saints. They weren’t really heroes. Only imperfect people like the rest of us.”
“I don’t think that’s what he meant,” Mom said.
“No, that’s exactly what I meant,” Todd said. “Like Peter. The guy spent three years living with Jesus, and then the night of Christ’s trial, Peter wimps out in front of a girl and says he doesn’t even know the Lord. But Christ didn’t give up on him.”
“I certainly didn’t intend for us to have a religious discussion over dinner,” Marti said, lifting a bell and ringing it.
The maid appeared and cleared the soup bowls.
“Spinach salad with hot bacon dressing,” Marti announced as the salad was served.
“So you believe, Todd, that God doesn’t give up on people; rather, people give up on God?” Bob asked.
Christy couldn’t tell if her uncle was agreeing with Todd or trying to trap him.
Todd nodded. “Of course, it’s all in the surrender. Our surrender to God. Because even though we blow it, God will forgive us. But only if we surrender and ask Him for that forgiveness.”
“Except you have to be sorry,” David piped up. “They told us that in Sunday school. You have to be sorry for what you did, not just sorry that you got caught.” He pushed up his glasses and put a whole cracker into his mouth.
Mom and Dad exchanged looks of amazement at their little David. Christy couldn’t believe they were all talking about God and no one was stopping them or arguing.
Bob said, “Do you think, Todd, that these people you listed from the Bible deserved a second chance, or should they have been punished for what they did—the murders and everything?”
“They deserved to die. We all deserve to die.”
“But God gave them a second chance?” Bob questioned.
“And a third and fourth and so on. See, even after a person becomes a Christian, he still blows it,” Todd said.
“Then what’s the point?” Marti asked, looking irritated yet sounding sweet. “If people are no better off ‘saved’ or ‘unsaved’ because they’re all ‘sinners,’ as you say, then why do you ‘born-again’ people—and I don’t mean that offensively, really—but why do you insist that people aren’t Christians unless they’ve been, well, ‘born again’?”
Mom and Dad exchanged glances of uncertainty, Bob looked at Todd, and Christy thought, You know, Aunt Marti, that’s a pretty good question. This week it sure doesn’t seem to matter if my friends are Christians or not—especially Tracy. Everything got messed up even though we’re all Christians.
Todd leaned back in his chair, and Christy knew he was about to give one of his famous examples. She loved listening to him talk at times like this, and she loved his illustrations.
“It’s like a baby. When a baby tries to walk, he falls down.”
Christy immediately thought of the toddler she had seen while shopping with Marti.
“Babies don’t give up just because they fall. They keep trying until they get better at it. But see, a baby wouldn’t even try to walk if he were never born.”
Christy thought she saw Marti’s face flinch slightly, but she kept listening.
“That’s like becoming a Christian. At first you still fall a lot because you’re just learning to walk with the Lord. The more you grow, the better you get at it. But you have to be ‘born again,’ because the spirit side of your life can’t grow if it’s never been born.”
Christy put down her fork and stared at her plate, seeing only a blur of colors. That’s it! That’s why I’ve been falling all the time. I’m just learning. I’ll get better as I grow more. It’s okay. God understands, and He’s right there to pick me up every time I tell Him I’m sorry. She felt like jumping up and dancing around the table, saying, “I’m not a failure! God gives me second chances!”
“So, Todd, my boy,” Bob challenged, “the next question is, when do you believe a person runs out of second chances with God?”
“You don’t.” Todd looked at Marti. “You only run out of time.”
Marti gave Todd a puzzled look as he concluded, “If you die without ever surrendering your heart to the Lord, then the Bible says you’ll be separated from Him forever.”
Todd got the same tight, watery-eyed expression Christy had seen on his face at Shawn’s funeral last summer. He looked down and said deliberately, “There are no second chances in hell.”
Marti choked on a spinach leaf, and Bob looked disappointed, as if he figured he and Todd could carry on this theological discussion with no conclusions being drawn and no feathers being ruffled. Not so. From the moments of silent munching that followed it seemed apparent that Todd had given them all something to think about.
“This salad is delicious,” Mom said cheerfully. “Did you say it’s hot bacon dressing? It’s so good.”
Marti slowly pulled back into her take-charge mode, and by the time they cut into their stuffed Cornish game hens, she led the conversation.
“How long have you played the mandolin, Todd?”
“Couple of years. I’ve played guitar since I was six or seven.”
“And where did you take lessons?”
“My dad taught me.”
“And what does your dad do?” Bob asked.
“International sales for a computer company in Irvine.”
“I thought you told me once that he was a hippie,” Christy said, and Todd laughed.
“He was, but then he discovered money.”
Here was a whole area of Todd’s life Christy knew nothing about. There was so much more she wanted to learn about him. She started to relax and feel a little less guilty about how she had talked to him on the phone earlier. Yet the nagging questions remained: Where do I stand with Todd? Exactly where is our relationship going? Did he come tonight out of courtesy to Marti, or did he really want to be with me?
“That was delicious,” Mom praised her sister as they all rose from the table.
“Shall we have coffee in the living room?” Marti suggested.
They entered the living room and found the manger scene had been moved to the side of the coffee table. In the center sat a silver tray with a silver coffee pot, sugar and creamer, and china cups and saucers. A tray of candies and little round cookies covered with powdered sugar sat next to the coffee service.
“Can I have some candy?” David asked.
“Help yourself,” Bob said.
David stuffed a whole piece of chocolate into his mouth, and for the first time during the evening he squeezed his hidden button. The tie flashed on and off, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Yum, yum!” David said, blinking the tie and enjoying all the a
ttention as they laughed at him.
Marti poured coffee, Christy nibbled on a powdered sugar cookie, and Todd played another song for them. When he finished, Dad said, “Isn’t it time you got going?”
Christy looked at Todd. He smiled and shook Dad’s hand.
“Thank you, sir. What time would you like Christy home?”
“Twelve-thirty.”
We’re going to Heather’s party? I can’t believe this! Christy thought. My parents are letting me go with Todd!
“Are you going to the party now? Can I go? Please? Can I go too?” David whined.
“No, sir,” Dad said.
“Aw, why not?”
“This is Christy’s night, son. Your chance will come soon enough.”
Slipping into the hallway, Christy smiled and thought, God, You knew about this all along, didn’t You? Why was I so paranoid about everything?
Marti followed her. “Christy, I wondered if you would like to borrow some earrings for your special night.”
“Sure,” Christy answered, eager to do whatever she could to mend her relationship with her aunt.
“Here.” Marti held out a blue velvet box and said, “These are very special earrings. Your uncle gave them to me on our tenth anniversary. We celebrated in Paris that year, and he gave them to me in a little sidewalk café on the Champs-Elysées.”
“Paris? Really?” Christy opened the box and exclaimed, “Oh, they’re beautiful!” Lifting the exquisite diamond and pearl cluster earrings, she said, “Are you sure it’s okay for me to wear these?”
“Of course, Christy. Now don’t spoil my fun by saying you won’t wear them. It’s my way of contributing something special to your memorable evening.”
“Thanks, Aunt Marti. I really appreciate it.”
The two exchanged warm smiles.
Then, as Marti helped Christy fasten the earrings, she spoke softly. “This was a difficult week for me, Christina. You have a way of getting to the core of a person; did you know that?”
Christy shook her head.
“Hold still,” Marti cautioned.
“I wanted to apologize for all the things I said that upset you,” Christy said. “I don’t know when to be quiet. Maybe I should be more like the quiet woman on the sign at that restaurant.”