Christy Miller Collection, Vol 1

by Robin Jones Gunn

  Suddenly the guy on her right pressed a quarter into her open palm. Christy quickly passed it to her left hand, then moved her hand toward Rick to pass it on to him. At the same moment that she touched Rick’s hand, ready to give him the quarter, he pushed the other quarter into her hand.

  “Stop,” Katie yelled, and ten fists went up on the table. Christy squeezed her hand tightly as she pounded the table with the others.

  “Stop.”

  All the guys laid their hands flat. Christy fumbled a bit, trying to get her fingers out and the quarters to lie flat. It didn’t work. One quarter stuck out through her middle fingers, and the other one slid off the table and onto the floor.

  Christy burst into laughter, and Katie said, “Now, let me guess. Could it be Christy?”

  “That was a trial run,” Rick said quickly. “Practice only. It doesn’t count.”

  “Okay,” Katie said, retrieving the quarter and placing it on the table. “This one counts for real. Okay, guys?” Her bright jade eyes scanned each player as the quarters made their rounds.

  “Stop.”

  They pounded the table.

  “Stop.”

  All fists lay flat. Katie picked two hands, but neither had the quarters. Rick had one of them, and he laughed when Christy said, “That’s no fair! Your hand is twice the size of mine.”

  “Here,” Rick said, poking his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a dime and handed it to Christy. “Is this more your size?”

  They all laughed.

  “Come on,” Katie said. “Quarters only. Let’s get going.”

  They played round after round, and Christy spent most of the time as the “spotter” since she got caught nearly every time she had the quarter. She didn’t mind. She was having a great time.

  “I’ve got to get going,” one of the guys said.

  Christy didn’t want to leave. This was too much fun. She wanted to sit next to Rick and laugh and have a good time all afternoon. But everyone else got up and walked out to the parking lot.

  Christy slipped into the backseat with Katie again, and Rick asked, “You guys going to church tonight?”

  “I don’t know,” Christy answered. She wasn’t sure her parents would let her, and she had some homework she hadn’t done yet.

  “I probably am,” Katie answered, “but I don’t think you were asking me, were you?”

  Rick didn’t answer. He had turned on the radio, and the guy in the front seat began drumming the dashboard in time with the music.

  When Rick pulled into Christy’s driveway she was surprised to see the car there. She thought her family would still be out shopping. Their car looked so old and junky compared with Rick’s polished red Mustang.

  “Thanks for the ride, Rick,” Christy said when she slipped out.

  “Anytime,” he returned.

  “I’ll see you guys later.” Christy waved good-bye and swung open the front door, her heart singing.

  “Where have you been?” Christy’s mom jumped up from the couch.

  “At church. I told you I was going to church.”

  “Church? From eight-thirty in the morning until two-thirty in the afternoon? You’ve been at church this whole time?”

  “No, I mean yes, I mean …” Her dad walked in from the back of the house, and Christy caught her breath. “I was at church until noon, and then I went out to lunch.”

  “You didn’t ask us if you could go out to lunch.”

  “I didn’t know until after church.”

  “You should have called, Christy,” her dad said firmly. “We’ve been worried sick. We had absolutely no idea where you were. We didn’t even remember what church you were going to.”

  “I thought you were going to run errands. I didn’t call because I didn’t think you’d be home,” Christy said.

  “We did run errands,” Mom said. “But we got back before noon. We had no idea where you were.”

  David burst through the front door. “Who was that guy in the red car, Christy? Did you see his car, Dad? I tried to race him to the corner on my bike, but he beat me.”

  Dad’s eyebrows rose as he looked his daughter in the eye. “You went out to lunch with a young man?”

  “Yes, well, sort of. A bunch of us went, guys and girls, all from church. Rick just gave me a ride home. Two other people were in the car. Katie was in the car.” Christy talked fast, afraid that she was in big trouble.

  “What happened to Janelle?” Mom asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

  “Janelle had to go home after church, but Katie and I went to lunch with everybody because Rick offered to give us a ride.”

  “Why didn’t you come home when Janelle did?” Mom asked.

  “I-I don’t know. I guess I wanted to go out to lunch with everybody.”

  Christy’s dad looked at her mom; then they both looked at Christy.

  “Listen carefully, young lady,” Dad said in his sternest voice. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to worry us like this, but you should have used better judgment. You should have come home with Janelle or at least called and asked about going out to lunch. You’re not allowed to date yet, and that includes accepting rides with people we’ve never met—especially teenage guys. Actually, I don’t want you riding in a car with a bunch of teenagers at all. Is that understood?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry,” Christy said. It was the first time she’d ever heard him actually say she wasn’t allowed to date. The question had never come up when they lived in Wisconsin. “I didn’t think it would be a problem since it was with a bunch of people from church.”

  His expression softened. “Well, too many kids don’t think, and that’s the problem.”

  “You’ve got to be more responsible, Christy,” her mom said, sitting back down on the couch. “You can’t take off for hours without us knowing where you are. Don’t you see?”

  “Yes, I see,” Christy said. She didn’t like this thick, heavy, sick feeling she always got in the pit of her stomach whenever her parents “counseled” her like this. She always ended up feeling miserable and foolish for not thinking things through ahead of time. She turned to go to her room.

  “One more thing,” her dad added. “Where in the world did you get that dress?”

  “From Aunt Marti. She bought it for me in San Francisco.”

  Her dad shook his head. “You kids always want to jump ahead and try to look older than you are—try to use up your youth. Don’t you realize that once it’s gone you can never get it back?”

  He stepped closer to Christy; his eyes looked misty. “Slow down, honey,” he said in a tender, hoarse voice. “Just slow down, will you?”

  Her father’s words plagued her all week long. At home, walking down the hall at school, playing volleyball in P.E. class—everywhere she went she could hear him saying, “Slow down, honey.”

  After about three days of sloshing that phrase around in her brain, she wrote in her diary:

  The thing is, I’m not really trying to grow up too fast. All these things are happening to me, and I’m just trying to keep up with them. I think it would be different if I were rebelling or something. But I’m trying to do the right thing. Well, at least most of the time.

  I’m sure Dad’s right, that I don’t always think things through. But he doesn’t know all the good choices I’ve made or all the stuff I’ve already said no to.

  I’ve been trying to figure out what God wants me to do. I think He wants me to try really hard to do the right thing and say no to everything that looks like it wouldn’t be good for me.

  No, no, no, no. There, my daily practice in saying no.

  The week zoomed by. Christy’s mom got the job at Mr. Taylor’s real estate office. David fell off his bike and had to get four stitches in his chin. Christy’s dad planted some bushes and fixed the screen door.

  Although Christy scanned the halls every day for Rick, she never saw him. By Thursday afternoon she hardly gave him a thought. She was going to Palm Springs with he
r friends, and the three of them were brimming with excitement.

  “You girls all ready to go?” Uncle Bob asked as he tightened down a suitcase on the trunk rack of his Mercedes convertible. The luggage for the five of them had been more than the trunk of his car could handle.

  He checked his pockets for his keys and said, “Oh, here, Christy. A couple of letters for you. The one I told you about over the phone last week,” he said, handing her an envelope addressed in Paula’s handwriting. “And here’s another one that came yesterday.”

  For one hopeful moment, Christy thought, Todd! He finally wrote to me!

  She reached for the envelope and looked at the return address. It was from Tracy. Tracy, the girl from the beach whom Christy had tried so hard to not like. But sweet Tracy had always been kind to Christy. Why would Tracy be writing to me? She and Todd are close friends. Maybe there’s some news about Todd.

  The three girls settled snugly in the backseat of the comfortable car. Aunt Marti’s perfume filled the air around them since Bob had left the top up on the car. With one last wave to Christy’s mom and a dejected-looking David, they were on their way.

  While Janelle and Brittany discussed different kinds of perms with Aunt Marti, Christy quietly read her letter from Paula. Paula wrote with strong emotion, saying how much she missed Christy and that she couldn’t wait until June, when she would come out to California. She said she would never find another friend like Christy. Her birthday party this Saturday night would be the first time since kindergarten that Christy had missed celebrating with Paula.

  Christy faced the window. The dry scenery rolled past as she blinked back the tears. I wish you were here now, Paula. I wish you were going to Palm Springs with us. I miss you too.

  Christy realized that her relationship with Paula had become something different. Still friends, still close, even though apart. Still a part of each other’s lives. Yet they had definitely stepped into a different season of their friendship. What really hurt was that Paula didn’t understand Christy’s summer promise. She didn’t see that to have a relationship with Jesus you must first make a commitment to Him. It took me awhile to understand it, Paula. I’ll keep praying for you the way Todd and Tracy prayed for me.

  She tucked Paula’s letter into the side pocket of her purse and then quickly scanned Tracy’s note card. It was short and sweet, just like Tracy.

  Dear Christy,

  I read this verse today, and I thought about you, so I decided to send it your way:

  “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged” (Deuteronomy 31:8).

  I hope everything is going well for you and that you’re making lots of friends at your new school. Let us know whenever you’re up here at the beach again. We all miss you.

  Love,

  Tracy

  Of all the girls Christy had met at the beach last summer, Tracy was the friendliest. She had gone out of her way more than once to be kind to Christy.

  I’d like to be more like Tracy, Christy thought. She thinks about her friends and their needs more than she thinks of herself.

  “Do you girls mind listening to one of my oldie-moldy favorites?” Bob asked. Before they answered, he popped a CD into the stereo and cranked it up.

  “Really, Robert!” Marti scolded. “Must you turn it up so loud?”

  Janelle and Brittany were already singing along. Bob respectfully turned it down a bit and slipped his sunglasses up on top of his head, looking his wife in the eye. “Come on, babe! Tell me this doesn’t bring back memories!”

  She smiled and reached across the seat, giving his arm a squeeze. “You haven’t changed a bit, Bobby. Always Mr. Fun, Fun, Fun …”

  Janelle knew the words to every song. “My brothers have this CD. I love it!”

  Bob really got into it, drumming on the steering wheel, bopping his head back and forth. “Think your hair can take the breeze if I put the top down?” he asked Marti.

  “Yes! Let’s put the top down!” Janelle said enthusiastically.

  “Oh, no, dear. I don’t have a scarf with me. I’d prefer you left it up. Besides, the air conditioning feels so refreshing.”

  “What are we going to do tonight?” Christy asked sometime later, after the song fest died down.

  “We’ll go straight to the hotel and check in; then we’ll change and go out for dinner,” Marti announced.

  Aunt Marti, you would have made a great cruise director on a luxury liner, Christy thought with a smile.

  “You girls like Italian or Chinese?” Bob asked, turning off the stereo.

  “What?” Janelle asked. “Guys or food?”

  Bob laughed. “Either.”

  “Both!” Janelle giggled.

  “I see I’ve met my match in your friend, Christy,” Bob said, pulling off the freeway onto a long road that appeared to be heading straight for a high range of mountains. The car traveled in the shade now; everything looked different—purple-tinted.

  “How much farther?” Christy asked.

  “A few miles. You can almost see the aerial tramway from here.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The Palm Springs tram runs from the desert floor to the top of Mount San Jacinto there. It’s about eight thousand feet up, and in the winter it’s covered with snow.”

  Bob bent his head forward, looking out the windshield. “I’ve got a great story about that mountain. A few years ago I went up in November with some of my golf buddies to go hiking. When we got on the tram it was cloudy, but by the time we got to the top it was freezing. After we ate lunch at the restaurant up there, we were all set to go on our hike when it started snowing. The crazy part was I got sunburned golfing the day before!”

  “You girls would enjoy going up on the tram, wouldn’t you? You could take them on Saturday, couldn’t you, Bob?” Marti said.

  “Sounds like a plan. Or we could take a ride in a hot air balloon.”

  “Really?” Christy squealed.

  “That’s something I’ve always wanted to do!” Brittany said.

  “That’d be hot!” chimed in Janelle. “Get it? Hot? Hot air balloon?”

  “We get it, Janelle,” Christy said. “That’s why we’re not laughing.”

  How fun! Christy thought. I always wanted to ride in a hot air balloon. She hummed to herself the rest of the way while the others kept discussing their plans. “And we’ll have fun, fun, fun …”

  “Here we are,” Bob said as they drove down a street lined with shops, restaurants, and office buildings. “Palm Canyon Drive.”

  Christy wasn’t impressed. After all she had heard about Palm Springs, she expected some wonderfully glamorous, fancy town. The shops and everything looked nice but not spectacular.

  Bob pulled into a hotel parking lot and stopped under a huge portico supported by white pillars. A valet opened the door, and a rush of hot desert wind engulfed them. The valet offered his hand to each of the girls as he helped them out of the car. Christy loved being pampered like this.

  Another uniformed man piled all their luggage onto a cart and followed them to the reservations desk.

  “Look at that fountain!” Janelle gasped when they entered the spacious lobby.

  Christy thought the lobby, with its adobe-style décor, looked like a movie set. It was so grand and different from anything she’d ever seen before. The floor was a pinkish-clay color, and the walls were a white tile with a lot of Native American rugs hanging on them. There was a lot of open space and light. The hallways were decorated with big clay pots holding tall cacti.

  “Look,” Janelle said, pressing one of the stickers on a cactus. “They’re fake.” The pointed needle sticker that appeared so dangerous bent beneath Janelle’s touch like an overcooked spaghetti noodle.

  They were led down the wide hallway, and Christy thought, This is like a movie. It’s not real, but it’s so fun! I love playing the part of the spoiled little rich gi
rl.

  “I trust you’ll be pleased with your rooms,” the bellhop said, opening the door to the girls’ suite.

  Their eyes swept the spacious room. It had a sliding glass door opening onto the pool and deck. The bedspreads and curtains had the mosaic look of Native American rugs, only done in softer colors. On the walls hung several pictures of blooming cacti and desert wildflowers. Christy decided she liked the old-fashioned, Victorian look of the St. Francis in San Francisco better.

  “This is totally hot!” Janelle said.

  “Then you may wish to adjust the thermostat over there,” the bellhop said with a straight face, pointing to the wall by the bathroom.

  The three girls looked at each other and burst into laughter. Bob handed the attendant some money and said, “They’re my fan club. I take them with me wherever I go. Keeps me young.”

  “Now you girls get yourselves situated,” Aunt Marti directed. “Our room is right next door. Shall we leave for dinner in, say, half an hour?”

  “Sure.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  The three of them quickly unpacked, chattering and laughing as Janelle explored the room, trying out every light switch and faucet and examining the complimentary basket filled with soap, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, and a shower cap.

  “How does it look?” Janelle asked, stepping out of the bathroom with the shower cap over her head. “Should I wear it to dinner tonight in case it rains?”

  “Quite stunning!” Christy said. “It goes so well with your tennis shoes.”

  They all laughed, and Brittany asked what they were going to wear to dinner.

  “I didn’t even bring a dress,” Christy moaned. “I just didn’t think of it when I packed last night.”

  “I brought a couple,” Brittany said. “You can wear one of mine.”

  Christy chose a turquoise knit dress of Brittany’s and slipped into the bathroom to put it on. She couldn’t get it over her hips. Jerking open the bathroom door, she hollered out, “What size is this thing?”

  “A three. Why?” Brittany said. “What size do you wear?”