Girl in the Song

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Girl in the Song Page 8

by Chrissy Cymbala Toledo


  “Okay,” he replied, not questioning me at all. I walked briskly back toward the church offices, wondering if my parents would notice my disappearing act. Moving past security and the secretaries, I reached my dad’s office door, knocking twice, and then opening it. “Do you have a sec, Dad?”

  “Sure, Chris.” He had just finished preaching and was about to go back in for the second service. Dad looked up at me. “You look beautiful, Chris. I love that dress, too.” Although my mind was on Jaye waiting around the corner, my heart skipped a beat. In moments like this, it was as if everything stopped and I was transported to the special times my dad and I had shared. He always made me feel like I was a treasure.

  I quickly refocused on the reason I was there. “Dad, I was going to get lunch after the service and I need some money.”

  His smile began to turn into a slight look of concern, which was unusual. Did he know something? But I was relieved when he took his billfold out of his back pocket. “Sure,” he said, putting some money on his desk.

  His head remained down. “Who are you going with, Chris?”

  I was momentarily alarmed; he had never asked me that before.

  “I’m going with some of my friends.” Dad looked up and our eyes met. I could tell that he was trying to read me. I looked away.

  “Is everything okay?” It was as if his eyes were piercing right through me. He reached out to hand me the cash. “Chris . . .”

  Walking backwards toward the door, I grabbed the doorknob, “Yes, Dad?”

  “Be careful, honey.”

  Jaye and I had lunch at a nice place in Brooklyn Heights near the promenade, but the entire time I was uneasy, thinking about my dad. Not because I lied to him about who I was with, but because of how he looked at me when he handed me the money. It was the first time he had looked at me that way—ever. It was as if his eyes were saying the last thing I wanted to hear—“What are you really doing, Chrissy?” I had done a good job keeping my cover, and my parents trusted me too much to have anyone spy on me. What could he possibly know?

  We all got home from church pretty late that night. I was in my room getting ready for bed when I heard Dad calling me. I ran up the stairs and into the living room. Both of my parents were there, still in their church clothes, waiting for me. My blood rushed to my toes and I thought I was going to faint. Dad was sitting on the chair with his suit jacket on his lap and his tie undone. Mom was sitting on the couch with her feet on the coffee table, her high heels on the floor.

  My dad’s expression was serious. “Sit down. Mom and I want to talk to you.” When he said “Sit down,” the blood rushed back up to my head, flushing my face; the wheels in my mind started to spin. Someone saw me with Jaye today and told them. I just know it.

  I slowly took a seat, anticipating the worst. Dad’s a very discerning man. I’ve seen him read people’s hearts all the time. Or maybe God told him.

  Mom’s eyebrows were knitted with concern as she looked at me. “Chris . . . are you okay?”

  Pasting a smile on my face, I responded without hesitation. “What do you mean, Mom?”

  She paused a second and said, “I mean, how are you doing?”

  I tried to be nonchalant, reaching down and pulling up my socks. “Fine. Why?”

  I could see her looking at Dad, giving him a cue to chime in. The way she’s looking at him . . . this is not good. They are on to me.

  Dad let out a long sigh and waited. “Your mom and I have just been seeing a change in you, and we can’t put our finger on it. It seems like you’ve distanced yourself, and we’re concerned.”

  Whew! They don’t know. I acted surprised and disappointed. “But Dad, I’m in church every Sunday and every Tuesday! Shouldn’t that be enough?”

  “Look, Chrissy, your mom and I have always known God’s hand is on your life. He’s truly gifted you in music. And we believe He wants to use you in a special way.”

  Mom’s voice cracked with emotion. “We’re so proud of you, Chrissy.”

  Dad stood up, leaned on the chair, and looked at me, “I’ve heard great things about a Bible college in Louisiana, and we’ve been thinking that it might be a great place for you to go when you graduate. A place to develop your gifts and prepare for your future.”

  The tension I was trying to hide lifted off of my shoulders. They are completely clueless. What a relief! I was just so thankful they didn’t know that I responded with the answer that made the most sense in the moment.

  “Yes. I’ll think about going to Bible college. I’d love to hear more about it.” I walked over and gave them each a kiss and went downstairs to bed.

  THE CLOSE CALL WITH MY MOM AND DAD made me realize that I was slipping in terms of keeping up the appearance that their “little princess” was doing just fine. I decided to step up my efforts to make sure that no one in church would suspect that something was wrong.

  “Dad, can I come in?” I peeked through his church office door.

  “Yes, honey, come in!” Dad had that look of sweet excitement as I walked into a room filled with people. He came over and stood next to me. “Have you all met my daughter Chrissy?” he asked, as he gently touched the back of my hair. “Of course, you know Nicky, Chris.”

  “How is my beautiful girl?” Dad’s good friend and special guest speaker, Nicky Cruz, embraced me as if I were his own child.

  “Jim, the first time I came here to preach, Chrissy was probably . . . she couldn’t have been more than six or seven!” I sensed Dad smiling behind me as Nicky held my hands in his.

  I warmly replied, “Oh, it’s good to see you. I’m graduating high school this year.”

  Nicky reached over to a few friends who were with him and told them in Spanish, “Esta chica es igualita a su mamá. Le encanta la música, y se mueve y se ve justo como ella también. Lo verán cuando la conozcan a Carol.” Growing up around so many Latinos, I was able to make out enough to know that he was talking about me being like my mom as well as something about music.

  I turned to his friends and smiled, making the flawless impression that I always did. “Dad, would you like me to walk your guests into the service and seat them?”

  “That would be great, honey.”

  “Jim, is she coming with us to Junior’s tonight? I want her to sit by me. She needs to tell me about her boyfriend.”

  Looking down, I responded shyly, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  Dad joined in the lighthearted banter. “Hey, Nicky, watch it. Let’s leave well enough alone, okay? Chrissy can get married when she’s thirty-five as far as I’m concerned. Let’s not rush things.” Everyone laughed as we left Dad’s office and made our way to the sanctuary.

  I sat on the end of the pew with Dad’s guests beside me. As a kid, I always loved the evening services. They were charged with so much energy, and without fail, Mom had the choir sing a few extra songs. But this night, I was more of a bystander, simply going through the motions. When it was time to worship, I sang with my eyes closed and my hands lifted high, while inside I was very anxious to leave. When it was time to greet one another, I shook hands and hugged the people surrounding me, while inside I felt pretty indifferent toward everyone.

  Over the years, we had lots of guest speakers on Sunday nights, many who were well known, such as Nicky Cruz. Dad handed the mic to Nicky, and everyone cheered with great admiration. Inside, I wasn’t interested in what he had to say. He began to preach, and although his English was broken, people were so locked-in to him that the sanctuary was absolutely silent.

  At the end, he invited anyone who wanted to receive Christ as Savior to come forward. Within a few minutes, the altar was completely packed with people, streaming down from the main level, the balcony, and even the lobby where they had been listening to his message. I was done. I couldn’t bear being in there anymore. I slipped out and went into Dad’s office until the service was over. Afterwards I went out to eat with Dad, Mom, and the guests, putting on a pleasant façade to make my pa
rents proud, while inside, I was very upset that I had to sacrifice a Sunday evening. It was the price I had to pay to keep everyone off of my trail.

  Jaye and I were sneaking around often now. We were so good at it that our friends at church didn’t even know. I was so driven to see him that lying to my parents had now become routine. I’d use both their car and their money, telling them that I was going out with friends when I was always going out with Jaye alone. Stealing from my parents to “attain the look” also became a regular affair. Since I knew when Dad paid the bills, I methodically chose a different credit card than the last time to throw him off. He’ll just have the impression that Mom used it for things we all needed.

  As risky as it was for a senior in high school, I cut classes a couple of times a week so that I could meet Jaye. My grades were rapidly plummeting, and I was in jeopardy of not graduating even if I went to summer school. I never let my parents catch on, not even once. I’d tenaciously find ways to intercept any communication from the school, carefully covering my tracks.

  And my dad’s dreams of me using my musical talents in the ministry? That was the last thing on my mind these days. I didn’t touch the piano anymore. Actually I started to resent the instrument, as though it were a person who was holding me to a standard that I wasn’t wanting to live up to right now. Nicky Cruz may have thought I resembled my mom, and as much as I would have liked to think I did, I didn’t anymore. I resembled less and less the woman she was. I’d watch her lead the choir and I knew better than anyone in the pews that it wasn’t just her musical ability that made her great—it was her great love for God. Although I still believed in God, I knew my heart was far from Him.

  Jaye was becoming, as Dad would say in his sermons, an idol in my life. I was fully aware of that. The problem was, I needed him. I was on a journey to discern whether or not I could be good enough to be his one and only choice.

  I started to detect greater concern welling up inside of my parents. Even though they couldn’t see anything wrong, their parental alarm was sounding off. It was starting to worry me and made my sneaking around more intense, which was wearing on me. They were not the type of people who would just accuse a person of doing something wrong, but they knew something was not right. I couldn’t stand how it seemed like every time they looked at me, they were trying to read me. Sometimes, I’d even say, “What’s the matter, Mom? Are you okay?” to try and throw them off by diversion.

  It was 11 p.m. when we finally said good-bye to the guests at Junior’s that night. They praised me to my parents for the way I hosted them. “Pastor, send this lovely girl to us anytime.”

  As we walked outside, I told my parents that I would see them at home and then drove off. I couldn’t let the day go by without seeing Jaye, so I drove a few streets away from the restaurant and stopped at a phone booth to call him.

  “I’m close by. Can you come downstairs for a little while so I can see you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right over.” As soon as I pulled up, Jaye got in the car. We drove up the block and parked in the shadows. We talked for a few minutes but immediately started kissing.

  All of a sudden I thought, This is so stupid—my dad has already been home for fifteen or twenty minutes now! “I can’t do this. I have to go.”

  “What are you going to say? You’re definitely late now,” Jaye said. “Don’t tell him we were together or I’ll probably never see you again.” I told him to get out and walk back because I needed to get home as quickly as I could.

  Speeding along the highway, I felt angry with Jaye for the very first time. It seemed like he really didn’t care much about all of this and that he hadn’t really looked out for me tonight. He wasn’t the one who was going to have to face my father. He wasn’t the one who had to tell the lies. He just helped me with suggestions on how we could sneak around and get together. Tonight, this whole thing was probably going to explode in my face.

  I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest as I drove up the hill to our house. I knew Dad was going to be waiting for me. When I pulled into the driveway, I could see him looking out the living room window. He met me at the front door, looking concerned and angry. “Chrissy, where have you been?”

  I looked at him calmly. “Dad, I’ve been driving around, thinking about my life, and um . . . I’ve decided that I’ll go. . . . I’ve decided that I’ll go to Bible school.”

  It was 3:42 a.m. when I finally sat up in bed after tossing and turning for more than four hours. I never had trouble sleeping, but tonight I had reason to. Over and over, my words replayed in my head. I’ll go. I’ll go. I’ll go. My eyes darted around the bedroom in a state of panic. What did I just commit to? Bible school?

  Reaching for my radio, I raised the volume to try to drown out the noise in my brain, but it didn’t help. An internal debate ensued. Chrissy, what about Jaye? Have you taken into consideration even once that you are leaving him? You’d be leaving the thing you want most right now. Then again, Daddy—how can you let him down . . . again? All he’s ever wanted is for you to do well and be happy, hasn’t he?

  Memories flooded my mind as I recalled how kind my dad had been to me throughout my life. Chrissy, what if he really knew what you were doing and what’s making you happy right now? What if he knew how deceitful you’re being?

  Now even worse thoughts began bombarding me. What’s going to happen if you leave Jaye? This is extremely risky. Jaye has every chance of starting a relationship with someone else if you leave. His daughter is only two years old, and he just left a relationship before you came into the picture. What would make him stay loyal to you? What glue is there to make this relationship stick, anyway? I felt as though I were in a courtroom on trial and that the verdict was going to be awful either way.

  I lay back down, digging my head into my pillow to muffle the accusations. I felt so helpless and confused. Lying there, I wondered for a minute how it would feel to live without this constant pressure that was bottled up inside me. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to just feel free. Free to enjoy being a teenager who didn’t spend all of her energy looking in the mirror, lying and covering up her lies. I slammed off my radio, because even the music was annoying me now. Desperate for silence, I began to cry. I couldn’t take the taunting any longer.

  I stared into the darkness. All of a sudden, without invitation, a sweet presence came into my room. It was there, as real as the tears running down my face. I knew this presence from the time I was a little girl. It began to wash over me like a wave of what can only be described as love. I couldn’t help but feel surprised that God would want to be anywhere near me right now. I heard His voice speak gently to my heart, “Chrissy, I still love you. I still want you. I still have a plan for your life.”

  As I cried in that dark room, I felt my heart become tender in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. My heart broke at the thought of God saying this, knowing my life had become nothing but a lie. Things were crystal clear at that moment. I was disgusted with the way I was now living, and knew that I had gotten used to listening to every other voice except that loving voice that visited me.

  After a few hours of peaceful sleep, I was jolted awake by my alarm, feeling light and clearheaded. There was no doubt in my mind—it was settled. I was going to Bible college.

  AS SOON AS MY DECISION WAS MADE, the atmosphere at home became less stressful instantly. It was like an injection of joy and relief for Mom and Dad. Surely if I was willing to go to Bible school, things were now on an upward track. I could sense that the suspicion that had been nagging them for the last few months was now being replaced with some hope that I would be okay.

  I was truly happy to see them happy. Making my parents proud had been something I majored on my whole life. Now I was making a great decision for my future, and that made me feel good. Maybe it was self-deception, but I even started to believe that all of this could make a way for Jaye and me to finally bring our rel
ationship out into the light. I figured that if I were to get closer to God, then it was likely that Jaye would, too, and there wouldn’t be any need to keep things a secret. Maybe I’ll inspire him, I thought. Perhaps he could enroll in Bible school too, I wished. The truth was, he needed to change anyway, to be the kind of guy I’d want to spend the rest of my life with. Ultimately, I would want a guy like my dad—someone I could trust. This Bible school idea was getting better and stronger by the minute. If God still had a plan for my life, why couldn’t it include Jaye?

  I called Jaye to tell him about my decision. He seemed genuinely bothered by the news. Good, I want him to be bothered by the news. It was my first real opportunity to measure how much he valued me. But as our conversation continued, Jaye’s concern started to drift away, and he seemed to be indifferent to my leaving. “Chrissy, you need to do what you need to do. If that’s what best for you, then definitely go.”

  I started to panic. There was definitely no us in his words. He seemed to be turning away from me in a single phone call. All the time together, all the sneaking around, even the affection we shared was being wiped away in one conversation because I was finally making one good choice. I felt like he was washing me off like residue on a dinner plate. How could it be so easy to let me go like that?

  In an instant, I was crushed. Any joy I had experienced the last twenty-four hours was gone. My mind began to travel to familiar territory. Maybe there are other girls he’s thinking about . . . girls he will pursue with me so far away. Over the next several weeks, Jaye’s response to my leaving was just about all I could think about, but I really didn’t say anything. I thought about that phone conversation just about every day, even when we were together, especially the fact that it really hurt me.

  Graduation was just around the corner, and I started to feel miserable. The fear of losing Jaye was now mixed with feeling like I had disappointed my family. The big day arrived, and although I wore a cap and gown and got to throw my cap in the air with the rest of my class, I didn’t receive my diploma that day. The whole celebration was spoiled by the fact that I would have to go to summer school to make up my failed classes. As often as I had cut classes to hang out with Jaye, it was inevitable that I wouldn’t make it.

 

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