Page 2 of As You Wish


  “I’ve been to the chapel.” Sierra twirled dramatically. She spun around to Katie’s beanbag chair and lowered herself with a poof.

  “I take it you saw Paul.” Katie pulled up a chair. “What happened? Did you guys have a chance to talk?”

  “Yes. Everything is wonderful now.” Sierra fiddled with the dangling silver earring in her left ear.

  “Details, please,” Katie said. “Don’t leave anything out.”

  “Well,” Sierra began, “you both know how everything was so disastrous with Paul a few hours ago.”

  “Slightly,” Katie answered for both of them.

  “Everything is perfect now. We talked and prayed together in the chapel, and it’s like we’re starting our relationship all over. We both have the same understanding and expectations, and it’s just right. Not too fast, not too slow. Just right.”

  Christy smiled. I remember a few brief seasons when I felt that way about Todd. As much as I said I didn’t like it at the time, those stretches—when we knew our relationship was in a holding pattern while we figured out who we were and what we were going to do with our lives—were comforting and settling. So why am I nervous about making the next round of decisions in our relationship? I wish I could figure out why I feel this way.

  Sierra pulled Katie’s beanbag chair closer to Christy’s bed and wiggled herself into a comfortable position. “After a whole year of Paul’s being in Scotland, now he’s less than an hour away. And we’re both in the same place in our understanding of our relationship. Finally! No unrealistic expectations. I can’t believe how I was starting to make everything so complicated.”

  “Did you hear that?” Katie gave Christy a motherly look. “Why would you want to complicate things with Todd when it’s all finally coming together so naturally?”

  “And did you hear what Sierra just said about unrealistic expectations?” Christy countered.

  Sierra’s expression turned somber. “Everything is okay between you and Todd, isn’t it?”

  Katie answered for Christy, “She’s afraid of the future.”

  “I am not,” Christy snapped. “I’m just not ready to talk about getting married.”

  “Who’s talking about getting married?” Sierra asked.

  Katie raised her hand. “I am.”

  Sierra’s eyes opened wide. “You, Katie? Who are you planning to marry?”

  Katie laughed. “I’m not talking about my getting married. I was talking about Todd and Christy getting married. It was the topic du jour right before you knocked on the door. It’s the next step for Todd and Christy, and she’s afraid to make such a huge decision.”

  “Katie, that is not what I said, and you know it.”

  “Okay. What did you say?”

  Christy sighed. Part of her didn’t want to discuss this with Katie and Sierra right now. However, another part of her had longed for the closeness of good friends while she was in Switzerland. She had even written in her diary how much she was looking forward to settling into Rancho Corona University so she could spill her guts to Katie and be open to her best friend’s advice. Having Sierra to talk to, as well, was a bonus.

  “Okay, this is the whole thing. Just listen, please. Both of you. I promise I’ll listen to your advice, but first let me say what I’m thinking.”

  Katie and Sierra leaned forward, their expressions open and warm.

  “This is what I know for sure. I know I love Todd.”

  “But you haven’t told him,” Katie jumped in.

  “I said let me say everything first.”

  “Oops.” Katie covered her mouth. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

  “I know I love Todd, and yes, I haven’t been able to tell him yet. I know he loves me. He has told me he loves me at least a dozen times since that first time in Switzerland this summer. But, you see, to me there’s something really deep and final about telling him I love him. It’s only a tiny step away from saying I promise to be committed to him. Forever.”

  “And you don’t feel ready to say that to Todd?” Katie surmised.

  Christy looked at her hands. The overhead light in their room caught the corner of the gold ID bracelet Todd had given her years ago when he had promised that, no matter what happened, he would always be her friend. She ran her finger over the word “Forever” engraved on the bracelet.

  Sierra jumped in. “Does it feel too final to you? Are you thinking that the moment you tell Todd you love him he’ll say, ‘Then let’s get married’?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “He’s not going to propose to you on the spot,” Katie said.

  “And what if he does? Why wouldn’t you want to marry him?” Sierra asked. “Haven’t you been thinking that was the direction your relationship was going all along?”

  “Yes and no. Sometimes I think I’m ready to marry him right then and there and never look back or have any regrets. Then other times I look at him and I think, ‘Who is this guy?’ There’s so much I don’t know about him.”

  “So? Give yourself some time to get to know Todd better,” Sierra said. “That’s what Paul and I are doing. Not that we’re even thinking about marriage. Neither of us is. We have plenty of time to get to know each other as friends without any pressure to make it more than that.”

  “Right,” Katie said. “But Christy and Todd have already been through that phase for . . . what? The last five years?”

  Christy nodded.

  “It’s time for them to make decisions, and sorry, Chris, but I have to say this. Todd is right. Decision making has never been your favorite thing.”

  Christy didn’t feel as wounded when Katie said it. She actually found it easier to agree and slowly nodded her head. But something more lay behind her uncertainty over Todd, and she felt she was on the edge of formulating that very important thought.

  Katie turned to Sierra and continued her analysis of Christy as if she weren’t sitting there. “Christy likes things to be planned and in a logical order. You know, ‘First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage.’ ”

  Sierra chuckled. “That is the way it works best.”

  “If only a detailed tour book for relationships existed!” Katie spouted. “Todd and I discovered when we were traveling with Christy in Europe this summer that the best way to travel is with a plan and a tour book to guide you. You miss too much along the way otherwise.”

  “Oh, so are you now admitting publicly that having a plan is a good thing?” Christy said.

  “I told you that in Europe.” Katie raised her voice.

  Sierra jumped in. “But I don’t know if love can always be planned and logical.”

  “Right,” Katie agreed. “Nobody can make guarantees about the future. We have to take what we know and act on it at the moment, trusting God for the outcome.”

  “I don’t know if I agree with that,” Christy said. “I think we’re responsible for our actions all the time, including the possible results of our actions.”

  “Yes, but,” Sierra spoke in a firm tone, “there has to be a balance because we’re not in control of our own lives. God is.”

  “And we shouldn’t be afraid of the future,” Katie added.

  “It’s like that verse in Proverbs 31,” Sierra said. “You know, the one that says, ‘Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.’ ”

  “I memorized that one last year,” Katie said. “Only my version said, ‘She can laugh at the days to come.’ ”

  Christy pulled back and became somber. The important thought she had been formulating was rising to the surface and bringing sadness with it.

  “What are you thinking right now?” Katie asked. “Your face clouded over like a thunderstorm.”

  “You and Sierra think of laughing and rejoicing at the future part of that verse, but I worry about the strength and honor part of it. Committing myself to Todd is a huge decision. If I marry him, we’ll be together for the rest of our lives.
I don’t want to let him think I’m ready to make such a major commitment until I’m sure I’m ready.”

  “But you do know that you love him,” Katie reminded her.

  “I think I know that.”

  Katie dramatically grabbed her hair with both her hands and acted as if she were going to pull it out. “You said a few minutes ago that you knew you loved him!”

  “I know. But try to understand what I’m saying—”

  “I do. I get it.” Sierra stepped in. “I think I get it, anyway. You’re saying that you know you love Todd, but you don’t know if it’s the same kind of love, or a deep enough love, to be certain you’re ready to commit yourself to him for the rest of your life.”

  “Exactly,” Christy said.

  Katie burrowed her head in her hands and seemed to be taking it all in.

  Sierra’s summary of what Christy was trying to say had somehow allowed the important thought she had been formulating to become clear. “That’s it! This is what I’ve been trying to figure out.” Christy leaned forward and paused, making sure she had Katie’s full attention. “I want you both to tell me the truth. Tell me your honest opinion.”

  Sierra and Katie both waited.

  “Do you think it’s possible to finally decide that you really, truly love someone but not end up marrying him?”

  The room went still for a moment while the three friends exchanged glances.

  “Yes,” Katie said, her expression completely serious for the first time all evening. “I think it’s possible to realize you love someone as deeply as you know how to love and not end up spending the rest of your life with him.”

  Sierra slowly nodded. “I think so, too.”

  Christy felt her vision blur with uninvited tears. “So do I,” she said in a whisper. “And that’s what I’m afraid of.”

  2 Christy stayed up until after two in the morning talking with Sierra and Katie. When Katie rose shortly before noon and said she was going into town to get something to eat, Christy told her to go on without her. Then she did something she didn’t think she had ever done before—she slept all day and all night.

  On Thursday morning Christy woke with a horrible headache. She ate a soggy breakfast burrito Katie had left for her with a note saying that Katie was shopping with Sierra. After a hot shower that did her little good, Christy went back to bed, where she fell into a deep sleep for the rest of the day.

  When she woke, it was almost dusk, and she felt more coherent than she had in weeks. Maybe even in months, as if she had broken through the exhaustion barrier.

  Christy had just pulled herself out of bed and was stretching, when Katie came in holding a bag from the deli in town. “Hey,” Katie said, “she lives! She breathes! Does she want to eat?”

  “Yes, I’m starving. Thank you so much. Thanks for leaving the burrito for me this morning, too.”

  “No problem. You must be feeling better.”

  “I do. I feel normal again. No, better than normal.”

  “That’s good to hear. I was beginning to worry about you.”

  Christy reached in the bag and took out one of the turkey sandwiches. She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer of thanks before taking a bite.

  “You look better,” Katie said. “I think those extra weeks at the orphanage in Switzerland really did you in.”

  Christy knew Katie was right. Her year in Switzerland had been good in many ways, but her life had been nonstop, requiring a great deal of her physically and emotionally. She gave of herself to the children at the orphanage, often for more than thirty hours a week, as well as maintaining a full schedule of classes.

  “I know,” Christy agreed, settling cross-legged on her bed. “You’re right about the orphanage. Those kids broke my heart every day. I really felt empty by my last few weeks there.”

  “Are you glad you stayed through the term?” Katie asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When Todd and I were there in June, you had that big breakthrough revelation about how you weren’t suited for crisis maintenance-type work. You know, all that stuff you were talking about when we were in Amsterdam. How you were going to change your major but you still thought you should stay in Switzerland to finish the program. Are you glad you stayed?”

  Christy nodded, her mouth full.

  “I know you felt you needed to keep your promise to the orphanage and to the university in Basel,” Katie said. “I never told you, but I admired you for making that decision.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ve been thinking about all the stuff we talked about the other night. You’re good for me, Chris. You cause me to think things through rather than impulsively run ahead. Sierra and I were just saying how we both have a problem with being too spontaneous.”

  “That’s why you’re both good for me. I need you guys to tell me to lighten up sometimes. I wish I’d gone shopping with you. I haven’t been to a mall in more than a year.”

  “I think getting some sleep was more important for you,” Katie said. “You honestly look a whole lot better.”

  “I feel better about everything, too. It really helped to talk with you and Sierra the other night. I think the most important thing I can do right now is to take each day as it comes and resolve each decision as it comes.”

  “The Sunday school decision was the final phone book, wasn’t it?” Katie asked.

  “The final phone book? What does that mean?”

  “It’s my new theory. You know how I told you that one of my many fascinating summer jobs was delivering phone books door to door?”

  Christy nodded.

  “Well, I learned the very first day that I could only carry eight phone books at a time. If I tried to pick up one more, I ended up dropping all of them.”

  Christy didn’t see Katie’s point.

  “You were already carrying a lot when Todd dropped the Sunday school question on you. Think about it. You had jet lag, you had decisions to make about your major, you were worried about finding a job, you were confused about why you didn’t feel ready to rush into a lifetime commitment with Todd, and then—bam!—the Sunday school decision was the final phone book.”

  “Kind of like that saying about the straw that broke the camel’s back,” Christy said.

  “Exactly. Only, the things you’re carrying aren’t little straws. They’re all heavy like phone books. You can carry a couple of them at a time, but when you hit your limit, it feels as if you’re going to drop all of them.”

  Christy leaned back and felt herself breathing more easily than she had for several weeks. “You just described perfectly what I was feeling.”

  Katie beamed like a proud sunflower. “No extra charge for the advice. I wondered if you were going to have a meltdown a couple of nights ago when we went to the store and you were about to cry because you couldn’t decide which laundry soap to buy. I’m glad to hear you say that you’re going to take each decision separately, one at a time.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?” Katie had gotten up to turn on her stereo and pulled a stick of gum from an old Muppet Babies lunch box she kept on the corner of her desk.

  “Didn’t you have an appointment with the counselor today?” Christy asked. “Or did you have to reschedule it?”

  “No. I went into town to get breakfast with a bunch of people, and then I met with the counselor at ten. Sierra had an appointment with financial aid, and we went shopping after that.”

  “Did you end up changing any classes around?”

  “No, I’m sticking with botany for my major. I told the counselor my goal in life was to create herbal teas, and he came close to laughing aloud.”

  “Didn’t you tell him about the herb garden you started on campus last semester and the experiments you did?”

  “No, I’ll wait to tell him about that after I complete a successful experiment.”

  Christy grinned. She remembered an e-mail Katie had sent last spring with the h
ilarious account of her first attempt to serve herbal tea she had grown and mixed herself. The experiment resulted in two out of five students in her chemistry class breaking out in hives. The other three complained of stomach pains. Apparently Katie was the only one in the class who didn’t suffer any kind of reaction.

  “By the way,” Katie said, “your aunt called this morning while you were dead to the world and wanted to take you to lunch. I told her you weren’t available today.”

  “Very kind of you, Katie. And true. Thanks.”

  “You might not thank me when you hear this part. She said she would be here at noon tomorrow to pick you up for lunch, and if you had anything on your schedule, you needed to change it because that was the only time she was available.”

  “Oh. Did she say what she wanted?”

  Katie laughed. “Does she ever? I mean, does she need a reason to step into your life at any moment and take over?”

  “She’s probably upset that I haven’t called her since I got back. When I asked my mom about Bob and Marti last weekend, she said she hadn’t seen them or talked to them since the Fourth of July.”

  “That’s a little unusual, isn’t it?”

  Christy shrugged. “My mom and Marti aren’t exactly the closest sisters that ever lived.”

  “They’re certainly the most opposite,” Katie commented.

  “You know, maybe one of the good things about Switzerland was that my aunt was thousands of miles away instead of an hour-and-a-half drive.”

  “Do you want me to come to lunch with you tomorrow?” Katie asked.

  “Yes! Would you?”

  “Of course. Free food. Why wouldn’t I come to offer my moral support?”

  Christy thought a moment and added, “It’s not because I’m intimidated by my aunt, you know.”

  “Oh no,” Katie said with a sly grin. “Never.”

  “It’s because your being there will take off the edge, if you know what I mean. I want you to come because then I know it will be fun.”