The family gathered around the kitchen table for soup and salad.
“I planned a light dinner,” Marti explained as they sipped their French onion soup. “We have so much snack food around here, I knew we’d be nibbling all night. So many of our friends gave us food this year. And some store must have had a sale on cheese because we’ve been given three boxes of international cheeses!”
Dad tried to suppress a choking laugh, but he couldn’t do it. He sprayed his spoonful of soup into his napkin and then tilted his head back and roared a contagious laugh. David laughed wildly and fell off his chair for added attention. Christy giggled uncontrollably. Poor Mom looked as though she were about to cry. Then, slowly, she began to chuckle along with the rest of them.
“Was it something I said?” Marti looked bewildered, not sure if they were laughing at her or at something she had accidentally said. She looked to Bob for support.
Gentle, wise Bob calmly sipped his soup and said, “Perhaps we’ll understand when we open their gift tonight.” He winked at Christy’s mom. “I like the Brie, myself.”
Marti still looked confused, but as soon as everyone stopped laughing, she carried on as if she were still completely in control of the situation. “I thought we’d open all the gifts tonight. That way we can sleep in tomorrow morning, and we’ll have a lovely Christmas dinner at one o’clock. What time do you need to get back to Escondido?”
“We both have to work the next day, so we should try to leave by five or six,” Mom said.
“Which reminds me,” Dad said, leaning across the table and wagging his soup spoon at Christy and David. “You two keep in mind that you’re guests of your aunt and uncle this next week. They didn’t have to invite you, you know. You need to make sure you do your best to fit into their plans, all right?”
They both nodded.
“Good,” Dad said, and he stuck his spoon back into his soup.
Christy’s mind left the family conversation and constructed elaborate dreams of when she would see Todd and what it would be like.
That evening the family gathered by the fire in the living room. Before they dove into the mound of presents, Christy’s dad offered to read the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke. He had done this every year since Christy could remember, and she nearly had the passage memorized. This year it was different. Not just because they were at Bob and Marti’s, but because this year she really knew Jesus. To her, He wasn’t just a little baby in a manger anymore. Last summer she had surrendered her life to Him and promised Him her whole heart. Jesus was real to Christy. His Spirit lived inside her.
“That was lovely,” Marti said when Dad finished reading. “It’s good for us to remember the true meaning of Christmas.” Instantly, she sat upright and pointed to a small package in the front. “David, you open that one first, all right, dear? We looked all over town for this one,” she confided to Christy’s mom. “I couldn’t believe how the price had gone up since three years ago when I got Bob’s, but I knew David would want one.”
David tore open the box and pulled out his own flashing bow tie. “All right!” he cheered. “How do you hook it up, Uncle Bob?”
And that’s how it began: over two hours of wrapping paper flying and expensive gifts emerging, one right after the other. Next to Christy on the couch sat a pile of wonderful gifts—clothes, perfume, makeup, a CD player, and an iPod. Although she thought it was all very nice, something felt hollow. She had been through all this money-and-clothes thing with her aunt and uncle in the past, and she never felt really good about it. Right now she wished her dad would read the part about the angels and shepherds again.
She felt kind of bad too, because nobody seemed overly excited about the T-shirts she gave them. She and another friend from Escondido, Janelle, had gone to a craft store and bought the paint, stencils, and T-shirts. It cost every penny she had just for the supplies. For three days she and Janelle had worked on designing and painting the shirts. They had a great time working on them, and Christy had felt pleased at how they had turned out.
But now, watching Marti hold up the T-shirt with the large yellow sunflower carefully painted on the front, Christy knew it was a waste. Her aunt would never wear it. David liked his shirt, though, with the neon-colored surfer splashed across the front.
Then Bob lifted an envelope off one of the flocked branches of the tree and handed it to Christy. “Merry Christmas to our favorite niece,” he said.
It was a bankbook for a savings account in her name, and printed in the ledger was the amount: “$10,000.00.” Christy swallowed hard and showed the bankbook to her parents.
“Bob,” Dad said in gruff voice, “this is going too far. We can’t accept this.” He looked hurt and angry at the same time.
“Let me explain,” Bob said smoothly. “One of my real estate investments out in Rancho California paid off exceptionally well this year. I thought it would be profitable for me to reinvest the money into a very promising, worthwhile cause, namely, Christy’s future. I set this up as a college fund. She can’t touch the money until she’s eighteen. I don’t see how any kid can get into a decent college these days without some little nest egg stored away.”
Mom looked as though she might cry.
Dad still looked angry.
“Believe me,” Bob said, “you’re doing me a favor. It’s either a scholarship account or else I have to pay exorbitant taxes on it.”
Mom smiled at her husband.
He said in a hoarse voice, “Thanks, Bob.”
Christy rose and kissed Uncle Bob on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said with a smile.
“What a rip!” David said. “All that money, and she can’t even touch it until she’s eighteen!”
“David!” Mom scolded.
Bob laughed and pulled another envelope from the tree. “This ‘rip’ is for you, David. You can’t touch yours until you’re eighteen either! I figure during the next decade this will pull in some favorable interest for you.”
“Wow! Five thousand bucks!” David said, looking at the total. “Couldn’t I just take a little bit of it out to buy a new bike?”
“No!” his parents said in unison.
“Bob,” Marti said brightly, “why don’t you give David his last gift?”
Bob pulled a small wrapped box off a top branch and handed it to David. David tore it open and pulled out a piece of paper, then read the note aloud. “Go to the closet in the hallway and see what Santa left for you.”
They all followed David to the hall closet. He opened it up, and on the floor was a big bow with a long ribbon attached. The ribbon ran up and over the doorway and across the kitchen floor.
“This is cool!” David shouted. They all followed him through the kitchen, in and out of the dining room, back through the kitchen, through the laundry room, and into the garage. There, in the center of the garage, stood a new bike with a big, white bow on it. David whooped and hollered, and there was so much commotion that when Bob turned to Christy and said, “Would you get the phone for me? It’s probably your grandmother,” Christy strained to hear if it was really ringing. She grabbed it in the kitchen and answered full of cheer: “Merry Christmas!”
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Todd?”
“Yeah, hi. How’s it going?”
“Hi! Are you at your dad’s house?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you having a merry Christmas?” That sounded so dumb!
“Pretty good. Hey, you want to have breakfast on the beach tomorrow morning?”
“On Christmas morning?”
“Sure. Unless you have family plans in the morning. I thought I’d give it a shot.”
“Yeah, I mean, no. Everyone was going to sleep in. Let me ask my parents real quick, okay? Hold on.”
Christy scurried to the garage, breathless. How was she going to ask this? Would her parents understand how much this meant to her?
“Mom?” Christy broke into the group of adults as t
hey watched David ride around in circles in the cleared garage. “Mom, one of my friends from the summer is on the phone, and they want to know if I could have breakfast with them tomorrow morning.”
“On Christmas morning?”
“Well, I thought you guys were going to sleep in tomorrow.”
Marti nudged her way into the conversation. “That’s right. That’s what we planned. I don’t see why you couldn’t go.”
“Where are you going to eat breakfast?” Mom asked.
“On the beach. We were going to cook it out on the beach.”
“I don’t know, Christy.” Mom hesitated.
Bob stuck his head over and said in a calm voice, “It’s perfectly safe. You can see the fire pits from our living room window.”
“I suppose it’s all right; I’ll have to ask your father. Norm?” Mom turned to get her husband’s attention. “Christy wants to go out on the beach in the morning with some of her friends—for breakfast. Is that all right with you?”
“Why in the world do you want to do that?” Dad turned to look at Christy.
She glanced at her mom and Bob and Marti. They all were looking at her dad with favorable expressions on their faces. Bob was nodding his okay.
“Oh, I don’t care,” Dad said. “Whatever your mother says.”
Christy dashed back to the phone. “Todd? Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“It’s okay. I can do it. What time, and what do you want me to bring?”
“Is seven o’clock too early?”
“No. That’s fine. What should I bring?”
“I went to the store already and got bacon and eggs and orange juice, and we’ve got plenty of firewood here. I guess all you need to bring is yourself.”
Christy smiled. “Okay. I’m really looking forward to seeing you, Todd.”
“It’ll be good to see you too. I’d better let you get back to your family. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
“You didn’t. That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Later,” Todd said and hung up.
Christy held the receiver to her ear, listening to the dial tone. She whispered into the mouthpiece, “Good-bye, Todd. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“What do you mean I have to take David with me?” Christy squawked.
“Your father and I thought it would be good for David to meet some of your friends. He doesn’t know anyone here, and since you’re both spending the week with Bob and Marti, we thought he should have a chance to make some friends.”
“But, Mom,” Christy said cautiously, “there won’t be anybody there his age. I don’t think he would have a good time. Really!”
“Then it’s up to you to see to it that he does have a good time. Our decision is final. Either you both go to this crazy breakfast on the beach, or neither of you goes! What’s your choice, Christina?”
“I guess David will go with me,” Christy said slowly.
“Fine,” her mom said, squeezing her arm and heading for the bedroom door. “Sweet dreams. And have fun in the morning.”
Mom closed the door, leaving Christy alone in the bedroom that had been hers during her summer stay with Bob and Marti. She slipped under the flannel sheets and gave her pillow a few well-aimed karate chops.
“This is so unfair!” she muttered. “David is going to ruin everything! This was supposed to be just for Todd and me. I’ve waited weeks and weeks for this breakfast, and now David is going to ruin everything!”
Deep down she knew it was her fault. She had stretched the truth with her parents by making it sound as though the breakfast was with a bunch of friends, not with just Todd. If they knew it was only Todd they wouldn’t let her go. Or would they? Rather than coming right out and asking, she had covered up the real plan, and now she was facing the consequences.
Nevertheless, she was going to see Todd in only a few hours. She couldn’t let anything ruin that. Not even David. Why did Todd wait until the last minute to call her? Why was he always so easygoing and noncommittal?
Todd, you are so unpredictable! You frustrate me to pieces. Why do I feel so many deep, strong emotions toward you? What is it going to be like to see you tomorrow? Are you going to hug me? Are we going to be able to have good, long talks like we did last summer? Do you even care about me at all?
“Of course he does,” Christy answered aloud. “He called, didn’t he? He kept his promise about the breakfast. He even bought the food already. See, he likes you. He’s been looking forward to seeing you. Don’t be so insecure!”
She coaxed herself to sleep, concentrating on Todd—what he would look like after almost five months, how she would greet him, what she would wear, what they would talk about.
She smiled. As a child she had dozed off to sleep on Christmas Eve with dreams of a new toy. Tonight she was dreaming bigger dreams—more complicated, but much more exciting. She would awaken not to Santa Claus and his gifts, but to Todd and breakfast on the beach.
At five-thirty the alarm’s shrill buzz rousted her from her sweet dreams. She wanted to sleep for ten more minutes, but she didn’t dare. It took more than an hour to shower and get ready. Then Christy put on some of the new eye shadow Marti had given her for Christmas. She tried the lavenders and browns but decided they made her look dull and groggy. Quickly washing the colors off, she went for three shades of very light green and a dark eyeliner. It was more than she usually wore, but she wanted to look her best. Older. Will Todd notice? she wondered.
Choosing what to wear was easy. Aunt Marti had given her a sweater she fell in love with the minute she pulled it out of the box. It was ivory and soft and very Christmas-y feeling. Christy slipped on her favorite pair of jeans and the new sweater. She felt snuggly and romantic—ready to see Todd.
“David, wake up!” Christy said, standing beside the hide-a-bed in the den, where her brother lay, sound asleep.
“Go away.”
“Fine.” Christy began to tiptoe away, her mind spinning with a plan. If she tried to wake David, but he wouldn’t get up, then it wouldn’t be her fault that he didn’t go out on the beach with her, would it?
Suddenly, David popped his head up. “Wait a minute! We’re supposed to go to the beach, huh?”
Rats! “Yes, David. Are you coming or not?”
“What’s that smell?”
“What smell?”
“It smells like stinky flowers.”
Christy sniffed and realized he had caught a whiff of her new Midnight Gardenia perfume. She had sprayed it in her hair and on her clothes so it would last. Maybe she had overdone it a bit.
“Just get going, David. I’m leaving in five minutes. You’d better be ready.”
He sprang from the bed and hollered, “I will, I will. Close the door.”
Christy popped her head into the kitchen. Uncle Bob was already up and was putting together a picnic basket.
“What are you doing?” Christy asked, surprised to see him up.
“Good morning, Bright Eyes. Don’t you look terrific.” He sniffed the air. “You smell pretty … ah … pretty”—he gave an impromptu cough—“pretty. That’s it. You smell pretty.”
Christy laughed. “I think most of it will blow away in the morning air, once I get outside.”
“Let’s hope so—I mean, I imagine so.” Bob winked. “I tossed a few goodies into this basket for you and your friends. Hope it’s enough. I didn’t know how many of your friends were going this morning.”
Christy felt horribly guilty. “Uncle Bob? Can I tell you something?”
Bob stopped filling the basket to give Christy his full attention. “Of course you can.”
“Well, a couple of months ago Todd called me. He was still in Florida then. He said he was moving back here to live with his dad. See, his mom was getting remarried and moving to New York. Anyway, he asked me if I wanted to have breakfast on the beach with him. Then he never called again, until last night.”
Uncle Bob
smiled. “And you were afraid your parents wouldn’t let you go alone, so you made it sound as if the whole group would be there. Am I right?”
Christy nodded.
“Somehow I thought that might be the situation.” Bob reached over and squeezed Christy’s hand. “Listen, I talked with your folks about it last night after they told you David was going with you. I put in a good word for Todd. They figured it would be okay, since David would be with you. But, Christy, you need to know that it hurt your parents. You’re making it difficult for them to trust you. I expect more from you. Your parents deserve more than you’re giving them.”
By now Christy had shed big tears that dripped down her cheeks, leaving streaks from the eyeliner. She felt awful. In barely a whisper she asked, “What should I do?”
Bob straightened up, his expression tender. “Go for it, Christy. Go have a wonderful breakfast. When you get a chance this afternoon, tell your parents the whole story. They’ll understand. They were teenagers once.”
David pushed open the kitchen door and headed for a box of candy on the counter. “When are we going?” he asked, stuffing two chocolates into his mouth.
Christy grabbed a paper towel and dried her eyes. “I’m almost ready.”
“One more spot on the side of your cheek,” Bob said as Christy dabbed the last streak of runaway eye makeup.
“There, you got it. You look great.”
Christy gave him an “Are you totally sure?” look.
He winked. “I like you better as a natural beauty anyway. The blue in your eyes needs no competition.”
She felt a little better.
“Here’s a blanket for you to sit on, and this Thermos is full of steaming cocoa. My own recipe,” Bob said. “The mugs are in the basket with the croissants and fruit.”
Christy scooped up the gear in her arms.
“Come on, David,” she called, “let’s go!”
Christy Miller Collection, Volume 1 Page 29
