“Definitely. I think you should, Mom. There are probably plenty of churches waiting for your next release. Do it!”
Mom paused for a moment and then the cadence of her voice changed. “Chris, I really miss you.” In that split second, her words carried me to the warm feeling of home.
My mom’s presence was what had always made our house a home. It was going to be weird not hearing her voice every day, calling through the house. I would miss the way she laughed, the way she’d run back and forth to the piano while preparing dinner, filling every room with the most beautiful music.
“I miss you, too, Mom. It’s going to be strange living so far away from home.”
“Well, we can really look forward to Thanksgiving, then! I’m making your favorite meal.”
“Yes! I can’t wait. So how’s Dad? Is he there?” I asked as I straightened the new textbooks on my shelf.
“No, he’s still at the office with a few counseling appointments. Chris, I have to tell you. Dad took it really hard when you left. He’s doing better now, but he didn’t sleep very much the first few nights.”
“Are you serious, Mom?”
“Yes, the first night I got up to see where he was, and I heard him downstairs. Chris, he was crying.”
“He was crying? Why?”
“I was at the top of the stairs on the landing and heard him. It sounded like he was praying for you. He was crying out to God for you. I heard him say, ‘Please be with her, Lord.’ For us, you being gone . . . it’s just something we’ve never experienced before.”
My eyes began to tear up. I loved my parents so much. “Mom . . .” I paused. What I was about to say was long overdue. “I just want to thank you both for everything. I really think this is going to be a good place for me, and I appreciate all you’ve done—setting me up, buying me a car, and paying all of this tuition. I know I could’ve done better in high school, but I really want to make you proud now.”
Without hesitation, she replied, “Chris, we’ve always been proud of you. You know that.”
“Oh, Mom, I meant to tell you. They have a music department here at the school, and it has lots of pianos with practice rooms! I know I haven’t been playing lately, but I want to start practicing again.”
“Chrissy, I told you that you could be the best pianist in the world if you wanted to. You have a special gift.”
“I know you’ve always said that, and I’m serious about getting back at it again. Well, I’d better hang up. I need to run down to the cafeteria before dinner ends. I’ll try to call tomorrow so I can say hi to Dad. Love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, honey. Be careful.” I hung up the phone and surveyed my dorm room once again, content with how organized and pretty it looked. Wow, I can’t believe how hungry I am. I checked my watch—only a half hour left before the cafeteria line closed. Hmm, I should get a sweater. I hate when the AC is blowing on me. I put on my sweater, tucked my clutch under my arm, stepped into some pointy-toed flats, and headed for the door.
As I reached to grab the doorknob, I did a quick about-face. My perfume. I went over to the dresser and picked up the bottle, pointed it toward the bottom of my neck and squirted. As soon as the scent was released, I froze, unable to move. I took a deep breath. All of a sudden, a feeling as though somebody had died came over me. God, please—I can’t take this. Not now.
A rush of tension hit me and my heart began to sting with each whiff of the fragrance. I broke down and wept, gripping the dresser for support. I just hate this. I hate this! My sadness turned into anger. I’ve lost all control. My heart was suffocating me, telling me that if I didn’t see Jaye at that very moment, I couldn’t make it. I thought about every possible place he could be tonight and couldn’t shake the horrible thought of him with someone else. Jaye had me now. “I thought it would be okay. I thought everything was okay,” I said through my bitter tears.
My appetite was gone. Dinner was no longer on my mind, but calling Jaye was. If he didn’t pick up the phone, I would be tormented by questions about everything. I tried to calm myself down, since we had talked a few days ago and things were just fine then. Perhaps I’m having a premonition, I thought. Maybe . . . girl too far away + free time = find another one. The possibility was gnawing at me, and I needed to find out.
I dialed his number, bracing myself for bad news. After the first ring, he picked up. “Hello?”
Thank goodness, he’s there. “Hi. It’s Chrissy.”
“Hey! I was hoping it was you.”
“Well, I was hoping it was going to be you! What are you up to tonight?”
“Nothing much. I don’t really have anything to do and thought about taking a walk, but then decided to just stay home, hoping you would call me.”
Wow. How could I even doubt him? My heart was overjoyed and so relieved. “How’s it going there?” he asked.
“I miss you.”
Jaye and I stayed on the phone for well over an hour. He told me about an incident at work that had me laughing so hard, I could barely breathe. His sense of humor made me fall for him all over again. We talked about all kinds of things, and I didn’t want to hang up the phone even when we ran out of things to say.
As I got ready for bed, I couldn’t stop smiling. Jaye loved me and my parents were as proud of me as ever; there was nothing more in the world that I wanted. I was actually looking forward to going to classes the next day. What was there not to like about this school? It was a totally perfect situation for me.
The next morning, the heavy, humid air that set Baton Rouge apart from New York greeted me as I exited through the dorm’s glass door leading to the courtyard. I can barely breathe. I wasn’t about to run to class, but my stride definitely picked up speed because I didn’t want to be embarrassed walking in late to a classroom full of strangers. All the way to class, I noticed people glancing at me, taking in my clothing, heavy makeup, and the way I wore my hair. I suppose it was probably a bit much, me looking more like I was getting ready for a photo shoot than for an Introduction to the Old Testament class, but I liked the attention. I fed off of it, assuring myself that I was attractive and stood out from the rest of the students.
My first day of classes couldn’t have gone better. Each class and professor was more interesting than the one before, and since I was totally dialed in, I started to feel like a real student for the first time in a long while.
By the fourth day, I became distracted. I loved the school and was making new friends, but with every chance to become more involved in campus life, to hang out and have a good time, I would start thinking of Jaye, and everything would be spoiled.
After the second week, my anxiety was becoming unbearable, and I knew I needed to see him. Talking to him on the phone wasn’t enough; it was getting old. When I posed the idea of him making a quick trip to come see me, he agreed without hesitation. Two days later I picked Jaye up from the New Orleans airport. But from the moment he arrived, I was already dreading his departure. We made the eighty-mile trip back to campus, and the whole time, I debated in my mind what my friends were going to think about him being there. Classes were in full session, and it was definitely an odd time of year to have a visitor.
When we arrived on campus, I thought everyone was looking at us but figured it was just because I was especially dolled up with this handsome man by my side. I introduced Jaye to a few people, but I was extra careful to let them know that he was just a “friend” visiting me. I didn’t want any word of this to get back to my parents. Things felt a little awkward that day on campus, and I told Jaye that it might be better for us to stay low-key and hang out elsewhere. I cut all my classes for the rest of the day and tried not to think about the work I’d have to somehow make up. After a day and a half of doing pretty much nothing, it was time for me to drive him back to the airport.
“Are you sure you have to leave?” Desperation started to well up inside of me, growing more intense by the minute. “Stay for just one more day . . . plea
se?”
Fortunately, I didn’t have to work too hard convincing him to stay another day . . . then another. When he finally left, I had cut four days of classes, and I had about as much interest in getting back to my studies as I did in joining the campus prayer team. A few weeks later I called Jaye and persuaded him to come back down to see me again.
The couple of friends that I had could probably tell something wasn’t right, but they knew that there was this “private side” to me, and they didn’t dare pry. By now I was holding my grades together with Scotch tape, and they were steadily declining. One day I happened to walk by a group of girls who were talking to each other, and when they saw me they immediately stopped, looked up, and stared at me in silence. I had made myself an outcast, facilitating gossip at this great school, but there was nothing I could do about it. When I wasn’t with Jaye, I was extremely insecure and lost. Nobody was going to understand what I was going through, and the risk of talking to someone was just too great. Walking through the corridors on the rare occasion when I would go to class, I looked around me thinking how awesome the school was and how stupid I was for blowing this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
On a Wednesday morning in November I woke up in my room, realizing how late it was. If I don’t get to class today, it is going to be ugly. The semester was going to end soon, revealing how poorly I had done. I lugged myself over to the window, lifted it up, and stuck my arm out. Louisiana humidity could be brutal—even in the autumn—and I wanted to see how bad it was. I pulled my arm in—it was wet and it wasn’t even raining! “Oh, c’mon. Is this for real? Whose hairstyle can possibly hold up in this?” I mumbled to myself.
I quickly got ready, grabbed my stylish, lightly-used book bag, and headed to the elevator. My room was on the fifth floor, and I was getting off on the first floor. That was where the common area was located, a place between the girls’ dorms and the boys’ dorms where students could hang out together. The common area stayed open until our strictly enforced curfew at 11 p.m.
“You have a nice day too,” I said waving to the two girls who were in some of my classes and had ridden down in the elevator with me. The student at the security desk said hi and gave me a warm smile as I passed by. It was crazy; despite the distance I put between myself and the students, there really didn’t seem to be any pretense in them—they were genuinely kind. As I walked outside, I felt a slight breeze. Maybe we’ll finally get some real fall weather after all.
My first class was in the farthest building from my dorm, and I hurried as fast as I could. I didn’t want to be tardy because I knew I was going to create a spectacle just by showing up. Dropping my bag next to my seat, I sat in the back of the classroom and strained to focus on the lecture since I had been so disengaged for the last few months. Daydreaming was about all I could do for the fifty minutes, but I kept my eyes on the professor in an attempt to look engaged in what he was saying.
As I shuffled to my second class, I was pretty much in a stupor until I heard some guys talking about football and their plans for Thanksgiving. Wow, I haven’t even thought about Thanksgiving break yet. I’m sure Dad’s going to call me any day now to try to arrange my flight. When is it, anyway? I reached in my purse and pulled out a folded up piece of paper with the school calendar printed on it. I stretched it out and looked for the shaded dates. Great. It starts a week from Monday. I think I’ll get a flight for next Friday after my last class and . . .
Suddenly, halfway through my thought, another idea popped into my head, an idea that made perfect sense. Maybe it would be better if I didn’t go home for Thanksgiving. Chances are, if I go home I won’t get much time to be with Jaye. And even worse, I’ll have the stress of making up stories to go see him anyway. He should come down here again, but this time for a whole week. I’m gonna call him. I know he’ll come.
The rest of the day was a real drag, and I spent most of my time thinking of an excuse I could give my parents for wanting to stay on campus for the holiday. My first thought was to say that I wanted to save them some money since Christmas would be a few weeks later. But knowing my Dad, he would probably insist and tell me not to worry about the expense.
Then I remembered hearing some students talking over lunch about not being able to go home for the holidays because money was tight.
That’s it, I thought. I’ll just tell them that my heart really goes out to the students who can’t go home and that I think I should stay here with them. They’d only respect me for that.
I called home that evening and gave Dad my pseudo heartfelt story about how I could really be a blessing on campus over Thanksgiving. He completely bought it, saying that they would really miss me.
“And Dad . . . one more thing. Since I’m going to be staying down here, I was wondering if you could send me some extra money.”
“Sure, honey, how much do you need?”
“Well, whatever you can send will be fine, but I thought I could maybe treat some students to a meal or two at a restaurant.”
“I’ll put a check in the mail tomorrow.” He paused, then said, “Wow, I know this change in plans is really going to disappoint your mom, but if you really feel you want to do this . . .”
“Yeah, Dad, I think it’s a good thing.”
“Well, all right. I love you. Call me soon, okay?”
“I will, Dad. Love you too.”
I didn’t even set the receiver down; I pushed the button to get a new dial tone. The phone rang a few times and Jaye’s sister answered. “Hello?”
“Hi, this is Chrissy. Is Jaye home?”
“Yeah, he’s home, but could you not call here so much? Every time I’m expecting a call, it’s always you calling. You’re tying up our phone!”
I heard Jaye’s voice in the background, then he was on the line. “Chrissy, hold on,” he said. Jaye must have covered the receiver because I could hear some muffled arguing.
“Hi, I’m sorry about that,” he said. “How are you?”
I hid that I was hurt by his sister’s words. “I’m doing okay. I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to see if you would come down here for Thanksgiving? We could be together for a whole week!”
“Oh, Chris, unfortunately I can’t. I’d risk losing my job, and I don’t have any money.”
I quickly cut in. “Don’t worry about the money—I’ll have some in a few days. I’m sure it’ll be enough for your ticket.” Not giving him a second to interject, I said, “And just tell your boss that you have a family emergency.”
After a few short minutes of persuasion—doing what I did best—Jaye agreed and it was settled. It would be my first Thanksgiving with Jaye and the first away from my family.
I PULLED UP OUTSIDE OF ARRIVALS at the New Orleans airport and scanned the crowd of passengers awaiting curbside pickups. Jaye didn’t see me, but I saw him immediately. His model-like physique was dressed in the colors of autumn—a soft olive-green shirt complemented by a coffee-colored leather jacket. I was really flattered. People must think he’s meeting someone very special. The joy I felt at that moment energized me and made me feel alive again.
In a flash I forgot about the last few weeks of school; the sleepy monotony of it all was shaken off like water off a dog. Just the sight of Jaye made everything better. As he threw his bags in the backseat, I jumped out of the car and ran around to greet him. “I missed you even more this time,” I softly said, as we shared a sweet kiss and tight embrace.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I had Jaye all to myself—not for just a few days, but for my entire Thanksgiving break. “It’s such a beautiful day! Let’s open the sunroof.” We drove off and I began to activate all the great features of my car. “Oh, and wait till you see what’s in my glove compartment! I bought it for us to listen to this week. Grab the cassette in there,” I said excitedly.
He recognized it immediately. “No way! You bought The Dream of the Blue Turtles? I knew I would convert you before long.” He pushed it into the cassette de
ck and turned up the volume.
“I really do love the whole album,” I said, “but found it pretty crazy that my favorite song is ‘Moon over Bourbon Street.’ I mean, you do know where we are going today, right?”
“Let me guess,” he said. “To the most famous street in this city?” He laughed, and I was thrilled that I had impressed him with my new affection for Sting’s music. Following the highway signs to New Orleans, I reached over and turned up the volume a bit more. As the car picked up speed, the wind started blowing through the sunroof a little too strong for my hairdo. I guess Jaye caught me trying to fix it in the rearview mirror and eased my mind. “Don’t worry, it looks great. Actually, you look fantastic today.” I was always elated when he complimented me.
When we finally arrived, Jaye and I strolled around the French Quarter. Being out in public with a good-looking guy like him gave me a sense of maturity and sophistication that put a sashay in my walk. I hung on to his arm as we ventured down cobblestone sidewalks, peeking into interesting art galleries and antique shops. The area was a great fit for him because he had such an incredible eye for artistic things.
I loved that he held my hand as we shared a messy but delicious beignet from Café Du Monde, spilling powdered sugar all over ourselves. I was comfortable with him; it felt almost as if we were already married, with everyone thinking that we belonged to each other. After a few hours we sat at the waterfront watching the ferry go by, and I leaned on his shoulder in quiet bliss. When the sun began to set, I broke the silence. “Are you hungry? I’m ready for dinner if you are.”
“I’m ready.”
“Well, there’s an adorable café I noticed right off of Bourbon Street. What do you think?”
“Sounds great,” he said, sneaking a kiss.
The setting sun was the perfect backdrop for the things that made New Orleans so romantic—horse-drawn carriages, street musicians, and sidewalk artists under streetlamps wherever we looked.
Girl in the Song Page 10
