“Oh, right,” Rick said, reaching for another piece of pizza. “And you three girls weren't a bunch of little maniacs yourselves on your run through the trees?”
Wispy, blond Heather giggled and described to Christy the run the three girls had taken. They had bounced off the slick path and headed into a clump of trees. Somehow they managed to maneuver through the obstacle course and ended up at the bottom of the hill without a tumble or a scratch.
The group chattered between bites of pizza, comparing wild stories and reliving the day's events. It was clear they'd all had a wonderful time.
Christy felt left out. The pizza she and Doug ordered finally arrived. She listened to everyone else laugh while she mechanically bit into the hot, gooey cheese, which burned the roof of her mouth.
Reaching for a glass of water, she guzzled it down. It only helped a little. The roof of her mouth still felt red hot. No one had noticed her emergency, which made her feel even worse. If she weren't there, the party would have gone on without her.
Then the teasing began. Rick called Katie “Speed,” and everyone laughed. Christy had no idea why that was funny. When he called Katie “Speed” a second time, she seemed to blush.
Christy could tell Katie loved the attention. The name had something to do with a run Rick and Katie had taken together on an inner tube.
Now Christy was really hurting. Rick had called her “Killer Eyes” for more than a year. That was his nickname for her, and nobody else called her that. It had seemed so sacred and special to have a name placed on her by Rick Doyle. Not anymore. Now Katie had a Rick nickname.
The conversation switched to plans for the Rose Parade. Rick announced that he was bringing a hibachi to barbecue their dinner, an ice chest, and his down sleeping bag.
“The girls should be responsible for the extra blankets and all the junk food,” Rick said.
“Cookies!” Doug agreed. “You girls can bring lots and lots of cookies.”
“How about it, Speed?” Rick asked Katie with one of his big smiles. “Think you can make us some more of those killer cookies?”
Oh, great! Christy thought. My nickname has now been reassigned to a batch of cookies, and Speed over there is getting the credit for the last batch we made, which would have been chocolate-chip-less if I hadn't been there!
The more the group talked, the more exciting the plans sounded. Christy really wanted to go. She would have to find a way to talk her parents into it.
Doug leaned over and asked Christy if she thought she would need a ride.
“I don't know. First I have to convince my parents to let me go.” She smiled at Doug, appreciating his interest.
“Do you want me to talk to them?” Doug offered. “I can tell them about how things were the last time we went.”
“Thanks, Doug. I'd better try first. I'll let you know what they say. We're going to be up in the mountains at a cabin for the next week. I'll call you when we get back.”
“A cabin? That sounds pretty awesome.”
“I guess.”
Seeing Doug's sincerity made her realize how grumpy she must seem to him.
You're being a baby, Christy. Snap out of it Join the fun instead of feeling sorry for yourself
Christy was beginning to pull herself out of her dismal mood when Heather said, “I hate to be the one to break this up. It's been such a fun day. But Tracy and I have a long ride home, and we need to get going.”
Everyone slowly slid out, and Doug said, “Mike, why don't you come in my truck with me? And Rick, would you mind dropping Christy off at the mall? Her car is still there.”
Christy didn't look at Rick. She heard him say “Okay” in a casual way.
Rick positioned himself by the door, holding it open in such a way that all the girls had to pass under his arm. The first three girls played along, sliding past Rick with smiles and giggles.
But Christy froze. She couldn't play along. A clear memory made her motionless.
She had been to this same pizza place before with Rick and Katie, about a year ago on a Sunday after church. Katie had been the center of attention that time too. And Christy remembered being quiet and thoroughly absorbed with Rick. That time she had passed under Rick's arm at the door and looked up into his brown eyes. She had thought she might melt. He had overwhelmed her with his charm.
She felt afraid to pass under his imaginary bridge tonight, lest he drop an invisible net over her heart and she became captured by him again. Her silent refusal must have come across loud and clear to him because he looked at her hard and then let the door go. It closed in Christy's face.
Jerking the door open for herself, Christy bustled through and joined the others in the parking lot. She would not let Rick get to her like this.
Why can't Rick agree to a middle ground for us? Why does it have to be all or nothing?
“So you'll take Christy back to the mall to get her car?” Doug repeated his question to Rick.
“Sure,” Rick agreed, glancing over his shoulder at Christy and tossing her the car keys. “Get in.”
He spoke the command in a lighthearted way, but the message was clear. Rick needed to be in control.
Does he have any idea how insulting he sounds? Is he doing this to me on purpose? Or is Doug right, and Rick really cares about me but can't show it because we broke up?
Christy obediently opened the door and slid into the comfortable, familiar passenger seat of Rick's red Mustang. She put his keys in the ignition and watched out the front windshield as Rick hugged Heather and Tracy good-bye. Then he hugged Katie.
The three girls hopped over to Christy's window and motioned for her to roll it down. She had been so absorbed with her confrontation with Rick that she hadn't even said good-bye to them.
Tracy reached her arms inside the open window and squeezed in to give Christy a hug around the neck. “Call me, okay?”
Heather waved and said, “I can't wait to see you on New Year's Day! We'll get all caught up then.”
Christy waved as Heather and Tracy left. Katie opened the door, “Scoot forward. I'll get in the back.”
Like a wildcat protecting her territory, Christy didn't move an inch. She stared at her clueless friend and in a low growl said, “Why can't you go with Doug and Mike?”
Katie looked amazed. Then, appearing to have caught on, she said, “You know, I love sitting in the front seat of that four-wheel-drive truck, sandwiched between two good-looking men, my legs all squished in such a dainty fashion. I much prefer it to riding in the backseat of this old clunker.”
Katie called out to the guys who were saying good-bye to each other, “Hey, Doug, wait for me. I'm the peanut butter!” Rick turned and walked toward his Mustang with long strides, his expression stern. Christy felt her heart pounding. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
He lowered his large frame into the front seat and slammed his door. Without a word he reached for the keys. He seemed to know that Christy had put them in the ignition, as she had done on several occasions when they were dating.
The car roared to life, and Christy held on while Rick peeled out of his parking spot. He turned to look at Doug out of his side window and honked and waved while the car accelerated past Doug's truck.
Christy noticed a small car pulling into the parking lot. She yelled, “Lookout!”
The other car swerved to the left. Rick jerked the steering wheel to the right. The tires squealed. With another jerk, he turned the car and kept accelerating out of the parking lot. He changed lanes twice before coming to an abrupt stop at the red light by the mall.
Christy didn't dare say a word. She could hear Rick breathing heavily, and she knew he was mad. He drove to the section of the parking lot where Christy usually parked and found her car without saying anything. Conveniently, there was an empty space next to Christy's car. Rick turned in with a squeal of the tires, slammed on the brakes, and cut the engine, all in one motion.
Suddenly, it was quiet. Very qui
et. Miserably quiet.
Christy wanted to scramble out the door and escape to the safety of her own car. Then she'd show him that she could squeal her own tires as she peeled out of the parking lot and away from him.
She couldn't do that though, because she knew this was what she had wanted for months: a chance to talk to Rick. She didn't think it would happen like this or that both their emotions would be at full throttle when they finally connected. Maybe it was a bad idea. The timing was off. She should wait for a better time.
“You wanted to talk,” Rick said. “What did you want to talk about?”
Christy felt awful. “About us,” she said softly. “But not like this. I don't want to talk when we're both so upset.”
“I'm not upset,” Rick said gruffly. “You wanted to talk, so talk.”
“I…I'm not sure I can…” Her throat swelled shut, and she couldn't say a word. It took a gigantic effort to keep back the sudden deluge of hot, prickly tears.
They sat in silence for several minutes. Christy didn't dare move, lest the tears find a crack to slip through and spill down her cheeks.
Rick let out a deep sigh and in a calmer voice said, “I saw the car coming, Christy. I wasn't going to hit it.”
“I know. I'm sorry.”
'You don't trust me,” Rick said. “You've never trusted me.”
“That's not true.”
'Yes it is. You don't trust me, and you've been afraid of me since the day we met. You never gave our relationship a chance.” Christy tried to think of how to answer that. In some ways it was true. Rick overpowered her just because he was Rick. How could she explain that to him?
“Go ahead,” Rick urged. “Admit that you never really made room in your heart for me.”
Christy shook her head, trying to find the right words. Rick came on so strong. He made her feel things she had never felt with Todd. Todd would never push her like this. Why couldn't she talk to Rick the way she talked to Todd? Todd would understand her feelings.
“You never even gave me a chance, did you? Come on!” Rick raised his voice. “You don't trust me. Say it!”. “That's not true. I do trust you, Todd.”
Everything froze.
Todd! Oh no! I called him Todd! What have I done? Rick will never understand.
Rick stuck out his jaw and slowly turned his head away from Christy as if he had been slapped in the face. Calmly, he opened his car door and with even steps walked to Christy's side and opened her door.
She followed his unspoken instructions, still in shock that she had done such a thing.
He stood firm, a few inches from her, and calmly stated. “I'm not Todd. I'm Rick.”
“I…I know, Rick. I'm sorry. I almost called a customer Mr. Grouch at work today,” Christy began, but nothing she could say right now would make things better. “I don't know why I'm so mixed up with names today.”
Rick acted like he hadn't heard her. With composure he said, “There will never be room for me or any other guy in your life until you've put him away.”
He shut Christy's door, walked to his side of the car with deliberate steps, got in, and started up the engine. Before she could think of a way to stop him, he lurched the car from its parking spot and, with screeching wheels, sped away.
Christy's mind raced with thoughts of what to do. Part of her wanted to speed off after him and make him pull over his car and listen to her. She would find a way to make him understand and forgive her blunder. Another part of her wanted to give up on Rick forever and be done with running from him or chasing after him.
With trembling hands, she unlocked her car door and drove home cautiously, afraid of her own emotions. The most frightening thing was that she couldn't cry. She hurt too much to shed a single tear.
Maybe Rick was right. Maybe she had held on to the dream of Todd for too long. How could she move forward when her life was filled with memories of him? Before she reached home, Christy knew what she had to do.
She walked in the front door, said hello to her parents, and then rummaged in the garage until she found just the right size box. With another smile and a “good night” to her parents, she locked herself in her bedroom and began by tearing the poster from the back of her door.
It was a poster from Hawaii—a certain memorable bridge over a waterfall. She tossed the gift from Todd in the box and went straight for her dresser, scooping up the Folgers coffee can, which held a dozen very dead carnations—the first flowers she had ever been given by a guy. The coconut he had mailed her from Hawaii was the next victim tossed into the open box. Then the cable car music box from San Francisco, which always made her think of Todd. Next, another gift from Todd—a tiny, blown-glass Tinkerbell figurine from Disneyland—and then a T-shirt from her drawer that said “I Survived the Road to Hana.”
Christy snatched her Winnie the Pooh bear off her bed and was about to plunge him into the box when she stopped. Holding the pudgy stuffed animal at arm's length, she told him, “I'm sorry, but you have to go too.”
She looked at the Todd mementos in the box and then explained to Pooh, “I can't have all of you whispering to me in my sleep, telling me fairy tales about Todd. I'm a big girl now. I can't believe in fairy tales anymore.” Christy tightly hugged Pooh. “Don't you see? What happened tonight with Rick was my fault. I should have sent you all away long ago.”
With one last kiss, Christy stuffed Pooh into the box and closed the lid. As a hot tear escaped, she slid the box under her bed and out of her heart.
feeling sad and alone. She ate some breakfast and then returned to her room to pack for the family's trip to the mountains. When the mail came, Mom brought three cards in for Christy. Christy examined the return addresses and opened the one postmarked Escondido.
It was a Christmas card from Teri Moreno, a girl from school Christy had met last year during the cheerleading tryouts. Teri wrote at the bottom of the card, “May your celebration of our Savior's birth be filled with joy.”
Christy set it aside, feeling guilty for being in such an emotional slump. She opened the next card, which was from Alissa, an older girl she had met on the beach two summers ago. A long note on a separate sheet of paper fell out. Christy sat down to read it.
Dear Christy,
I'm having so much fun preparing for Christmas here in Boston! Since this is the first Christmas since I became a Christian, everything means so much more than it ever did. My mom is doing pretty well She's gone without a drink for about three months. And she and my grandmother have been coming to church with me! I sent a present to baby Shawna yesterday. I think about her all the time and miss her so much. I know she belongs with her adoptive parents, and I know they love her as much as I do. Whenever I start to feel really bad about her, God gives me this unexplainable peace, and I feel like I can keep going. I pray for you all the time, Christy. I hope your Christmas is full of love, and joy, and peace.
Always,
Alissa
Christy stared at the letter, amazed. Alissa's father was dead, her mother was a recovering alcoholic, Alissa had given up her baby girl for adoption, and the baby's father had died in a surfing accident. If anyone had a reason to be depressed, it was Alissa.
Compared with her, Christy had it easy. Yet Christy was the depressed one, and Alissa sounded full of joy and hope—at least on paper.
Christy had to admit that last summer when she sat beside Alissa on the beach and listened to her pray and ask God to forgive her and come into her heart, Christy had wondered if it was real. Now Alissa was trusting God for more things than Christy was.
Maybe that's my problem. I haven't prayed much about all the stuff going on in my life.
Not feeling quite ready to pray, Christy opened the third card, which was from Paula, her childhood friend in Wisconsin. Out tumbled a stack of photographs. They were pictures Paula had taken last summer when she and Christy were in Hawaii with Christy's mom, David, her aunt and uncle, and Todd. The first picture was a waterfall with a bridge acro
ss the top, the same waterfall in the poster Christy had taken off her door. The next picture was of Todd on the beach with his arm around a surfboard. David stood on the other side of the surfboard trying to imitate Todd and look cool. The sky and water in the background looked pure, blue, and inviting.
Christy stared at the pictures for a long time, reliving the memories they each held.
Paula's card was signed simply, Thought you might like a copy of these. Aloha and Merry Christmas! Paula.
Christy wondered how Paula was really doing and guessed from her brief note that she was keeping her life to herself these days.
Christy set the three cards on her dresser where the mementos that reminded her of Todd had been. She decided the pictures only made her think more about him, so she pulled the box out from under her bed and added the photos to the collection.
With a heavy sigh, she whispered, “I know I'm not being very cheerful about Your birthday, Jesus. I'll try to think more about You and trust You more to work out all my relationships.”
During the two-hour drive up to the mountains on Wednesday, Christy tried extra hard to be nice to her brother. She played a license-plate game with him until the road started to seriously wind, and her stomach felt a little queasy.
“Are we almost there?” David asked. “Where's the snow?”
“These directions indicate we have about a half hour before we reach the Blue Jay turnoff. We should see snow pretty soon,” Mom said.
“There's some!” David exclaimed, pointing to a small patch on the side of the hill.
When they arrived at the cabin, the ground was covered with snow, and David was beside himself with glee. He was the first one out of the car. Packing a snowball with his bare hands, he threw it at the windshield and then quickly prepared another one for Dad as he got out of the car.
“Let's take our things in first; David,” Dad said. “Looks like Bob and Marti are already here.”
Christy stepped inside and gaped at the fully equipped, two-story deluxe home Bob and Marti had rented. It wasn't exactly the log cabin she had envisioned. She should have known. Her wealthy aunt and uncle were accustomed to the finer things in life, which included all the comforts of home wherever they went.