Sierra nodded with the rest of them. The truth was, she rarely drank coffee. Her idea of a good hot beverage was herbal tea, especially the fruit herbal teas. Apparently, everyone in Germany liked coffee. Her dad would definitely fit in here.
Dark, strong coffee served in small china cups arrived on a tray carried by the disgruntled Frau Weber. She let the tray down with a clang on the small coffee table and turned with a huff.
“So,” Mr. Pratt said, regaining his composure, “please help yourselves, and Alex, do tell me how your family is doing.”
Sierra enjoyed sitting back and listening to Alex talk. She held her cup of coffee carefully in her lap and took one tiny sip. Even with all the milk and sugar she had added, it was still too strong for her to stomach.
The warm August afternoon sun pouring through the open window soon made the living room feel small as Sierra sat wedged between Christy and Alex. She liked hearing about Alex’s family, but she would have given anything for a glass of ice water and a seat by the window.
Alex spoke fondly of his mother and father to Mr. Pratt. Whenever he didn’t know a word in English, he slipped in a German one, and Mr. Pratt would repeat the word in English for Marti, Christy, and Sierra’s benefit.
Marti had recovered her charming self and even laughed at one of Alex’s stories about his six-year-old sister. Sierra gave Christy a poke, and Christy poked her back. Marti’s opinion of Alex had been transformed—and that could only mean good things for Sierra.
six
LATER THAT NIGHT, back at the hotel, Marti put Sierra’s romantic hopes in check.
“Don’t think for one minute,” Marti said, “that I approve of you nurturing a romance with this Russian, Sierra. What would your parents think?”
Sierra knew what her parents would think. She was sure they would think she was old enough and mature enough to manage her own relationships. They always liked her friends. All of them. They would like Alex, too.
Before Sierra could defend herself to Marti, Christy stepped out of the bathroom. She was wearing her pajamas and had a toothbrush in her hand. “You saw for yourself what a great guy he is, Aunt Marti. He drove us back from the school, took us to dinner, and even paid for it himself. The guy is a gem! What’s wrong with Sierra developing a new friendship? I’m all for it,” she said.
“Go brush your teeth, Christina. This is between Sierra and me,” Marti snapped back.
Christy stepped forward and stood next to where Sierra was seated on the bed. Marti was standing in front of Sierra, which meant Christy formed a sort of human buffer between them.
“Actually, this is among all three of us,” Christy said firmly. “Sierra is my friend. She’s my guest on this trip. I’m enjoying Alex’s company as much as she is. And when he picks us up and takes us to the orphanage tomorrow, this will be among the four of us.”
Christy’s toothbrush appeared to be shaking slightly in her hand. Sierra wondered if Christy stood up to her aunt like this very often, or if she was merely appearing brave and confident.
“If it’s all right with you, Aunt Marti,” Christy continued, “I’d like it if the three of us could come to a mutual agreement about Alexander now, so that there won’t be any awkward situations tomorrow. He’s a wonderful Christian guy. He enjoys being with us and doesn’t seem to mind being our tour guide. I’d like it if you would approve of Sierra’s and my friendship with Alex. Please trust us, and please be nice to him.”
“I’ve been extremely nice,” Marti said defensively.
“After you found out that Mr. Pratt approved of him,” Sierra said, sliding her comment in carefully. The minute she said it, Sierra knew that she should have kept quiet and let Christy calm Marti.
Marti snapped back at Sierra, “You’ve missed the point entirely. You met him on the train, for goodness’ sake. How did you know it would be safe to spend time with him?”
Sierra paused a moment before stating calmly, “Because he’s a Christian.”
Marti threw up her hands and turned her face to the ceiling. “Why can’t I make you two innocent young dreamers understand what men are really like? It doesn’t matter what they say. They can’t be trusted. The sooner you grow up and realize that, the better off we’ll all be.” She shook her head and pursed her lips together. It seemed she had something more to say but was trying hard to hold it in. “You just don’t know,” she finally sputtered. “You two girls simply don’t understand.”
With that, she turned and went into her room, firmly closing the door. Sierra and Christy gave each other long, silent looks.
“What do you think she’s trying to tell us?” Sierra asked. “Maybe she was burned by some guy when she was our age, and now she thinks it’s her role in life to protect you and your friends from the same mistakes she made.”
“Wow.” Christy plopped down on the bed and stared at the closed door between the rooms. She was silent a moment, then said, “You could be right. I never thought of that.”
“Your uncle seems so great,” Sierra said. “I can’t imagine that he would ever hurt her. Must have been some guy before Bob. Maybe some gorgeous football player broke her heart in high school.”
“You have quite an imagination,” Christy said.
“It could have happened. Has she ever told you anything?”
Tucking her legs under her, Christy said, “For a long time I thought Marti was hiding something from me, and then I found out that she’d had a baby right before I was born.”
“You’re kidding,” Sierra said, getting comfortable on the fluffy, white coverlet. “What happened?”
“The baby was premature and had brain damage or something. She died the day before I was born.”
“How awful,” Sierra said softly.
“I know. That’s why my aunt treats me the way she does. My mom told me years ago that everything Marti would have done for her own daughter she tries to do for me.”
“Has Marti ever talked to you about any of this?” Sierra asked.
“Never. My mom says Marti doesn’t talk about it to anyone. Mom told me something about Bob and Marti’s not being able to have any more children, but I don’t remember what she said. We’ve only talked about it once.” Christy tilted her head and pulled her silky hair over her shoulder. “I never thought of what you said tonight. What if she did have her heart broken by a guy when she was young and then lost her only baby? Something like that would explain why she’s so resistant to God.”
“Exactly,” Sierra said. “I think it would be pretty hard to trust a God who lets horrible things like that happen in your life.”
Christy nodded thoughtfully. “But how much of what happens in our lives is because God lets horrible things happen, and how much of it is due to our reaping the consequences of our actions?”
“Is that what you think happened with your aunt?” Sierra asked, surprised at Christy’s comment.
“Well, we’ve all blown it,” Christy said. Her clear blue-green eyes carried a soft glow of understanding. “Even after we surrender our lives to the Lord, we still have that tendency to go our own way. And if Marti had a really wild past, a lot of her hurt and anger today probably comes from the consequences of her choices—not random acts of God.”
Sierra propped her pillow against the headboard and leaned back. “I’d sure be curious to know,” she said.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Christy warned as she stood up, her toothbrush still in hand. “My aunt doesn’t open up to anyone. Ever.”
As Christy brushed her teeth, Sierra stared at the textured plaster on the ceiling. It was hard not to take Christy’s warning as a personal challenge. There were ways of getting a person to open up. Badgering them sometimes worked. And if Sierra had the opportunity, she could try her relentless debating skills on Marti. No one should spend her life acting so guarded. Marti needed to unwind.
A self-righteous thought entered Sierra’s mind: What if the reason she had come on this trip was to crack open Marti and make her br
eak down some of her walls? What if Sierra was supposed to help Marti experience God’s love? Sierra liked the thought that God might have chosen her for such an important task.
“You know what?” Christy said, returning from the bathroom and slipping into her bed. “I kind of like the school.”
Sierra left all her Joan of Arc feelings to float on the plastered ceiling and came down to earth to join Christy. After all, the obvious reason they had come on this trip was so Christy could check out the school. The least Sierra could do was support her friend in this gigantic decision.
“Tell me your impressions of the place while I get ready for bed,” Sierra said. She rummaged in her bag for her nightshirt and toothbrush.
Christy ran through a list of all the logical pluses of the school. She gave all the reasons she should go there as Sierra washed her face and brushed her teeth.
“Obviously, you think it’s a great school,” Sierra commented. “So why do I hear you hesitating about it?” She crawled into bed and fluffed up her pillow. “Man, this is a comfortable bed!”
“I know. Like snuggling into a cloud,” Christy agreed. “Anyway, I’m just not sure because …”
“Don’t tell me,” Sierra said. “It’s Todd.”
“Of course.”
“How does he feel about your coming here? Last week he said it was totally up to you. Did he ever give you his true opinion?”
“That is his true opinion,” Christy said, resting her head on her arm. “The night before we left, Todd told me that if we’re meant to be together—which I took to mean if we’re supposed to get married—then this year away at school won’t change things between us. He says it will only make us appreciate each other more—the way we fell more in love when he went to Spain.”
“I think you two appreciate each other plenty. Why don’t you just go ahead and get married? You know you’re right for each other. At least, that’s what everyone else thinks. Don’t you two feel the same way?”
Christy’s face took on a contemplative, glowing look. To Sierra, it was the look of a woman in love. “You see, Todd has always been slow,” Christy explained. “Or maybe I should say ‘cautious.’ His parents divorced, and he wants to be careful about his commitments and about making sure he means to keep all his promises. We’ve never really talked about marriage. I thought maybe we would after Doug and Tracy’s wedding.”
“I wish I had a picture of you and Todd when you walked out of the church arm in arm after the wedding ceremony,” Sierra said. “You both had that Romeo-and-Juliet look down pretty well. I think Todd’s hopelessly in love with you, but he isn’t ready to admit it yet.”
Christy smiled. “I know. And I love him. I know that. But I don’t know if either of us is ready for marriage yet. Having me go away for a year might be the best thing for us. And like you said last week, we could start to write letters, which would be a whole new way to communicate for us.”
“A very romantic way, too,” Sierra said. “I’ve always dreamed of what it would be like to carry on a passionate correspondence with a guy I was crazy about.”
“With Alexander, maybe?”
Christy’s comment surprised Sierra. Actually, Sierra had been thinking of a correspondence with Paul. Ever since his brother, Jeremy, told Sierra a few days ago that he thought Sierra should write to Paul in Scotland, Sierra had let the idea build in her mind. Her reaction to Paul’s brother had been, “If he wants to correspond, then let him write me first.” She knew Paul would get the message exactly as she stated it. And somehow she also knew that Paul was just like her, and he wouldn’t let go of a challenge.
“Yeah,” Sierra finally said, “with Alexander.”
“Wait a minute,” Christy said. “You didn’t sound too excited there. You weren’t thinking of Alexander, were you?”
“No. Isn’t that weird? After all the happened today, you would think Alex would be the only guy on my mind. I was thinking of Paul.” Sierra had told Christy all about Paul, but she had never admitted to Christy or anyone else how stuck she was on him.
A slow grin spread across Christy’s lips. “I didn’t realize,” Christy stated with an air of satisfaction.
“Realize what?”
“Paul is your Philippians 1:7 guy, isn’t he?”
“My what?”
“Your Philippians 1:7 guy. Todd sent that verse to me once on a coconut from Hawaii. The verse says, ‘I hold you in my heart.’ ”
Christy sat halfway up and leaned toward Sierra. Then, as if Christy were revealing a great secret, she whispered, “Sierra, you hold Paul in your heart, don’t you?”
seven
WHEN SIERRA AWOKE the next morning, she felt as though she hadn’t slept at all. Her dreams kept waking her through the night—and her dreams had been about Alex. When Sierra woke to the alarm, she only wanted to go back to sleep.
“Want me to shower first?” Christy mumbled.
“Be my guest. Take as much time as you want. Don’t bother to wake me when you get out.” Sierra turned on her side and pulled the comforter over her face to block out the brightness of the sun breaking through the window.
“Sierra,” Christy said, plopping on Sierra’s bed and gently shaking her shoulder, “wake up. We’re in Switzerland! Alex is going to be waiting for us.”
“I thought you were going to take a shower,” Sierra said.
“I did. You fell back asleep. Come on. We need to get going. My aunt wants us to have breakfast downstairs with her in fifteen minutes.”
“All right, all right. I’m coming.” Sierra sat up and tried to open her eyes. “Do I look as wiped out as I feel?”
“You’ll feel better after a shower, that’s for sure,” Christy said. “You’ll see. It’s a great shower. Lots of warm water. This is going to be a wonderful day!” Christy rose from the bed and began to sort through her stack of clean clothes as she hummed a little tune.
“I can’t stand perky people in the morning,” Sierra blurted out as she stumbled to the shower. “You’ll remember that, Christina, if you know what’s good for you.”
“A shower will be good for you,” Christy called out after her.
Sierra never would have believed it, but Christy was right. Sierra emerged from the shower feeling much more coherent than she had been ten minutes earlier. She wrapped herself in a towel, stepped into the bedroom and saw Christy sitting at the small corner desk, talking on the phone. She was wearing a short summer dress, and her hair was twisted on top of her head in a smooth roll, styled like many Swiss teenagers were doing. It was an elegant look, and it made Christy look five years older.
Christy looked up and smiled, still holding the phone to her ear. “So far I do. We’re going to the orphanage this morning.… Okay, I will. You, too.… Okay.… Yeah, I promise I’ll call you tomorrow at this time.… I miss you, too. ’Bye.” She lowered the receiver and gazed at the silent black phone.
“Todd?” Sierra guessed.
Christy nodded. “He called me. I was going to ask Marti if I could call him in a few days, but he called me. He said he missed me and was praying for me. And he said to tell you hi, too. I told him about Alex.”
“You did? What did he say?”
“He said he hopes you go for it.”
“Go for what?” Sierra laughed, pulling on her shorts.
“You know, the relationship. The adventure. The chance to grow by giving a little part of yourself to someone special.”
Sierra pulled her wrinkled T-shirt over her head and wrapped the bath towel around her wet hair. One uncooperative blond curl dangled down the right side of her face. “What are you telling me? Todd calls you all the way from California, and you spend his money discussing my love life—or rather, lack thereof?”
“Something like that,” Christy said. “Remember how you told me what your dad said when he gave you your purity ring?”
Sierra glanced down at the simple gold band on her right hand. “What? That he was proud of me for s
etting such high standards or something?”
“No, remember after you left the restaurant? You told me your dad said to have fun while you were a teenager. Well, I agree with him. Take every relationship God brings your way, and enjoy what that person has to offer and what you can offer him. It’s not all serious soul-searching when it comes to guys, you know.”
Sierra put her hand on her hip. “You and Todd discussed all this while I was in the shower? Maybe we should have had a conference call so I could have received this advice right from the Big Kahuna’s mouth.”
“No,” Christy said with a laugh, “we didn’t discuss all this. I’ve just been thinking about it ever since you told me what your dad said, and I think he’s right. You have to take a chance and open your heart to people, Sierra.”
“You don’t think I do?”
Before Christy could answer, Marti called through their closed door, “Are you two ready?”
“Almost,” Christy called back.
Marti opened the door. She looked fully rested and ready to go in her straight denim skirt and freshly pressed white blouse. Her eyebrows crashed together when she saw Sierra with a towel wrapped like a turban around her head.
“You’re not ready,” she stated.
“We almost are,” Christy said. “Can we meet you downstairs in a few minutes?”
“Do hurry,” Marti said with a drawn-out sigh. “I’ll be waiting for you in the dining room.”
As the day proceeded, Marti’s patience was tried half a dozen more times. It seemed she spent most of the day waiting for Sierra and Christy. First, they were late for breakfast, and then when Alex arrived, the girls had to run up to their room to pick up their backpacks.
When they met Alex and Marti at the car, Marti was planted in the front passenger seat. Alex opened the back door for Sierra.
As she climbed inside, Alex leaned toward her and said softly, “It is wonderful to see you again, See-hair-a.”
Before she could respond, he gently brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. It was the most tender, affectionate gesture she had ever experienced, and it almost made her heart stop.
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