Christy Miller Collection, Vol 1
Page 36
“Let me give it some thought, Christy. We don’t know your friends here or what their home situations are like.”
Christy’s heart sank deeper and deeper. He might really say no, and then what am I going to do?
“We can talk about this later, Christy,” Mom said. “Would you do me a favor and see if Marti needs help getting dinner going?”
“From the looks of it, it’s all ready,” Dad said.
“All ready? What are we having?” Mom asked.
“Judging by what I saw on the counter, we’re having a buffet of international cheeses.”
Mom groaned and shook her head.
“Oh, please,” Christy said, “anything but that!”
Actually, they had chicken for dinner. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that Christy was a chicken at dinner. She intended to bring up the subject of Heather’s party again, with a sneaky, back-door approach. She thought that if Uncle Bob heard about the invitation, he might talk her dad into letting her go. But she chickened out.
After dinner the three “boys” went out front to play with David’s remote-control car. Christy cleared the table by herself and loaded the dishwasher while her mom and Aunt Marti talked in the living room. Marti had barely looked Christy in the eye since their conflict the day before, and that bothered Christy a lot. She didn’t know if she should apologize again or let it rest.
The solitude of the kitchen helped Christy think through some of the heavy thoughts that relentlessly pounded her. It seemed as though every relationship she had was on “hold” right now. Sprinkling the dish soap into the dishwasher, she closed the door and snapped the “On” switch. The machine whirred, and Christy leaned against the counter, wishing she could wash away the uncomfortable events of the past week as easily as the dishwasher cleaned the dishes.
The phone rang. It rang two more times, and Christy answered it.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Christy. How’s it going?”
“Todd?”
“Yeah. How’s it going?”
Christy leaned against the counter. After all her schemes to talk to him, now she couldn’t think of what to say. “It’s going okay, I guess.”
“You sure?” Todd asked, his voice calm and even.
Christy hesitated. What should I say? The truth?
“Actually, things have been better.” There. That was truthful.
One of those terrible pauses followed—a pause that made Christy feel completely insecure, thinking that Todd must be sitting there on the other end wishing he’d never called in the first place.
“Tracy said you wanted me to call you,” Todd said.
“Tracy?”
“Actually, she said that Heather said that you told her that you wanted me to call you.”
Oh, no! Not another one of these triangles!
Christy carried the cordless phone over to the kitchen table and sat down, her free hand supporting her forehead. “Not really, Todd. I mean, I wanted to talk to you. As a matter of fact, I’ve wanted to talk to you all week. I guess it just hasn’t worked out. I didn’t tell anyone to relay any message to you, though. At least, not the way it sounds like I did.”
Todd didn’t say anything.
Christy felt like she needed to speak up and tell him how she felt. “Todd? I want you to know that …”
Just then Aunt Marti bustled into the kitchen, and Christy instantly silenced her heart and her words.
“Yes?” Todd prodded.
Christy turned away from her aunt, who was retrieving a diet soda from the refrigerator. Calmly getting up from the table and moving over to the window, Christy pretended to be watching her dad maneuver the remote-control car around the driveway. With her voice lowered she continued. “It’s just that this week hasn’t exactly gone the way I hoped it would. I thought we’d have more time together.”
“I know.”
That’s all you’re going to say, Todd? “I know”? I’m pouring my heart out here, and all you say is “I know”?
Another awkward pause. Then Todd spoke as if he had worked hard and long at choosing the right words.
“This week didn’t exactly go the way I thought it would either. But you know what? It’s okay. Everything is going to work out. As far as I’m concerned, nothing’s changed.”
That was all he said. She kept waiting for him to go on, to explain how everything was going to work out. Would he set a time and say that he was coming over so they could work everything out? No, he wasn’t saying anything or committing to anything. Aunt Marti slid a glass into the ice cube dispenser in the door of the refrigerator. The ice clanged loudly.
“Sounds as though I’d better let you go,” Todd said.
“Oh, no, that’s okay.” Christy watched her aunt leave the kitchen. “It’s all right. What were you going to say?”
“I don’t want to keep you from your family or anything.”
“It’s okay, really, Todd. You’re not keeping me from anything.”
“We can talk more when I see you. I think I’d better let you go. Later, Christy.”
“When?” Christy demanded. “When are we going to talk more?”
But Todd didn’t answer. All she got was the dial tone buzzing in her ear. What do you mean, “Later”? Todd! What did you mean, “Nothing’s changed”? Todd!
Christy marched across the kitchen floor, returned the phone to its cradle, and then bustled into the dining room. There she suddenly came face-to-face with her aunt, each of them looking the other in the eye. Neither of them said anything at first.
Then Aunt Marti lowered her head, her glass of soda in her hand, and mumbled, “Excuse me, dear.”
Christy couldn’t stand the alienation—the icy distance between them. “Wait a minute, Aunt Marti.”
Marti turned.
The frustration with Todd filled Christy with boldness, although the words tumbled out without much finesse. “Aunt Marti, Mom told me about Johanna, and I’m really sorry. I never knew.”
Marti’s expression grew pinched and fierce. “She what!”
Christy stood her ground and tried to soften her approach. “Mom told me about your baby girl and how—”
“She had no right to tell you that!”
“Well, I’m glad she did because it helped me understand why you do so much for me and why you—”
Marti sharply drew up her index finger and wagged it inches from Christy’s nose, growling through clenched teeth. “You don’t understand a thing, Christina. Not a thing!”
Then she pivoted on her heels and marched off to her bedroom, leaving Christy alone in the dining room. She could hear the back door open and her dad’s voice filling the kitchen. Christy fled upstairs to her room, shattered to the core and determined to stay away from everyone.
Wasn’t talking supposed to clear up conflicts? Weren’t people supposed to get their feelings out in the open? Then why did it become more of a mess when she talked to her aunt? And why, oh why did she feel more confused and frustrated after talking to Todd?
What am I doing wrong? Christy thought in despair. Throwing herself on the bed and curling up in an angry ball, she let all her thoughts go racing around and around. When they slowed long enough for her to recognize them as more than blurs and flashes, she carefully tried to sort them all out. The quiet helped her calm down.
After a long while, Christy reached for her Bible. She turned to the book of 1 John, since Tracy had suggested they all read it that week. That obviously wasn’t going to happen, but Christy thought maybe she should try reading the short book. About halfway through the first chapter she remembered a verse she had seen in Doug’s truck. It was written out on a three-by-five card and attached to his visor. It was something about God knowing our thoughts, and she remembered it being in Psalm 130-something.
Christy found Psalm 130 and started reading verse one: “ ‘Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.’ ”
Boy, that’s sure how I feel tonight.
Closing her Bible, she lay back with her hands behind her head and stared at the ceiling. “Lord, if You already know what I’m thinking and what I’m going to say, then why do You let me blow it all the time? Why can’t You control my life a little better? Every day I have to keep coming back and coming back and telling You how I messed up. Don’t You get tired of it? Couldn’t I just do things right for once, so I wouldn’t have to keep asking You for a second chance? I don’t want all this agony with my friends and family. I want everything to work out smoothly. And I want You to be happy with me.”
She meant that prayer. She meant it with all her heart. And she knew God had heard her. After all, He knew all her thoughts, didn’t He?
Then why was everything the same the next morning? Nothing seemed to have changed. Aunt Marti ignored Christy at breakfast. The subject of the party didn’t come up on its own, and Dad didn’t seem overly approachable, so Christy bit her tongue and waited.
Then, when she had a moment alone with her mom, she told her how she had mentioned Johanna to Aunt Marti the night before and how much it had angered Marti. She was hoping to open the door to a deep, meaningful talk with her mom again.
Mom only groaned and shook her head. “Why, oh why did you say anything, Christy? I didn’t tell you so that you could throw it back at Martha.”
“I didn’t throw it at her. I mean, I wasn’t trying to. I wanted her to know that I knew.”
“Why?”
“Because it changed everything for me. Now I understand her a lot better, and I know why she treats me the way she does. You said that I could ask her about it.”
“No, no, no, no, no. What I said was that if Marti ever opens up the topic that she could tell you the details because I don’t feel I have the liberty to do that. For now, we’d be better off dropping the whole subject.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“I know you didn’t,” Mom said softly. “Would you mind handing me that pillow over there?”
She pointed to a throw pillow on the corner chair in the living room. Christy picked it up and handed it to her mom, who stuffed it under her cast.
“Mom?” Christy ventured. “Do you think I’ll be able to go to the party at Heather’s tonight?”
“I don’t think so, Christy. Maybe next year, when you’re older.”
“But, Mom, I really need to see my friends and talk to them like I told you.” Surely her mom would sympathize and see how important this was to Christy. She could talk her dad into it, couldn’t she?
“I know it’ll be disappointing, Christy. But there will be other New Year’s parties. I’d say the best thing you could do would be to call Tracy and Todd and try to work things out over the phone.”
What a crushing blow! What had Uncle Bob said about her parents being teenagers once? Well, maybe they were, once. But at this moment, Christy could not believe her mother or father ever had been typical teens. If they had been, they would see the importance of the whole situation.
The more Christy thought about it, the more she realized she had better take her mom’s advice or else she’d go back home tomorrow and have missed the opportunity to talk to either of them.
But why did she have to be the one to call them? Why couldn’t Todd just call and have a normal conversation? Why did he have to be so confusing?
Christy finally decided that maybe she should go ahead and call Tracy and Todd. It would be better than going back to Escondido with everything completely unresolved. It couldn’t hurt. Slipping upstairs, she drew in a breath of courage and dialed Tracy’s number.
“Hello?” It was Tracy’s mom.
“Is Tracy there?”
“No, she’s out with some friends. Would you like to leave a message?”
“Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“This afternoon sometime.”
“I guess I’ll try calling her then. Thanks. Bye.”
Christy hung up and stared at the phone. It was now or never. She had to call Todd. He answered on the first ring, and she bravely said, “Hi, Todd?”
“Yeah?”
“Hi, it’s Christy.”
“I know.”
“Could I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.”
What is all that noise in the background? “Todd, I was wondering if you were going to Heather’s party tonight.”
“Maybe.”
“Well, I’d really like to have a chance to talk to you. I’m going home tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
Come on, Todd! Can’t you answer in more than one-word sentences? And what is all the commotion in the background? “So, when can we talk?”
He answered with half a laugh, “Later.”
Christy lost it. “What do you mean, ‘Later’? Is it too much to ask you for a straight answer? What is all this, ‘Yeah, okay, maybe’? Why can’t you ever commit to anything?”
Todd didn’t respond. She had never yelled at him before. She could hear him breathing, and then she clearly heard Doug’s voice in the background say, “Come on, Todd! You going to sit on the phone all day?”
So Doug was there. That meant Tracy must be too. All the “all-time friends” got together at Todd’s, except no one thought to invite her. That hurt!
Suddenly she realized that she had told herself for months that her relationship with Todd was unchanging, but that wasn’t true. She didn’t know where she stood with him. Ever!
“Hey, Christy—” Todd began, but she cut him off with words she didn’t plan on saying and regretted as soon as she let them spill out.
“Oh, excuse me,” she said, sounding bitter and cold. “I must have the wrong number. I thought you were somebody else.”
She slammed down the receiver and burst into tears. An instant later the phone rang. She let it ring twice before controlling her shaking voice and answering.
“What’s going on?” Todd asked.
She couldn’t answer.
“Christy?” His voice softened and cut through to her heart. “I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever I did to tick you off like this, hey, I’m sorry, all right?”
“It’s not your fault, Todd.” She blinked and swallowed the tears. “It’s just me. Really. I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“You didn’t ‘bother’ me.” Todd sounded irritated; then he mellowed out and said, “Listen, let’s just let it go for now. We’ll talk some more later, okay?” It was a statement. One of Todd’s “this is how it is” factual statements. It left Christy feeling even more empty.
“Okay,” she said hoarsely. Then, flippantly, she used Todd’s own word back at him: “Later,” and she slammed down the receiver.
So just when are we going to talk, Todd? You have all your friends over today, and tonight you have some big date. And even if, by some miracle, my parents let me go to Heather’s party, would we even be able to talk then? Or are you going to bring your date with you—if you even show up, that is!
Suddenly David burst into the bedroom. “Christy? Oh there you are. You want to go out and play volleyball on the beach?”
“No.”
“You want to ride bikes?”
“No!”
“Come on! Let’s go out on the beach.”
“I don’t want to, David. Just leave me alone, okay?”
“I bet you’d go out if Todd were there!”
Christy sprang to her feet and shoved David out of her way. “Don’t ever say that name to me again!”
She stormed from the room as David chanted after her,
“Toddy, Toddy, Toddy, Toddy-Woddy, Toddy!”
“Christy?” Uncle Bob’s voice was extra gentle through her closed door. “I wanted to let you know we’re having some company for dinner tonight. It’s sort of a tradition. We have a formal dinner every New Year’s Eve. You’ll need to dress up.”
She didn’t want to dress up. She didn’t want to eat dinner. And she certainly didn’t want to go to Heather’s party. She was convinced that she had no true friends in Newport Beach. She would be better off going home, although things weren’t much better there, were they? Every time she was around people, she made them and herself miserable. Why couldn’t her life be nice and calm and simple and uncomplicated?
A few minutes later her dad’s thick hand pounded on the door. “Christy?”
She sat up straight and cleared her throat. “Yes?”
Dad opened the door and came over and sat next to her on the bed. “About this party at your girlfriend’s house tonight. I’ve given it some thought and talked it over with your mother. We’ve decided that you can go.”
“Well, I don’t really want to go now,” Christy said in a mousy voice.
Her dad looked at her in disbelief, then shook his head. “You might change your mind later. Just make sure you put your best dress on and join us for dinner at six, all right?”
Christy nodded. She made no attempt to go enjoy her last day of Christmas vacation. Instead she stayed in her room, struggling with herself, her dreamlike approach to life, her anger and frustration, and the way she felt like she was always failing God, no matter how hard she tried.
This week had turned out to be a great disappointment. Her Christian friends had let her down, Todd had left her completely disillusioned, and the whole thing with Alissa’s and Marti’s secrets left her weak and empty. That’s how she felt. Empty. Completely empty.
At 5:15 she glanced at the clock and decided the battle needed to come to an end. Honestly, openly, she prayed, “You know what I’m thinking, don’t You, God? You know everything I’m feeling. So why does it have to be like this? I hate falling flat on my face all the time.”