Departures (10 page)

Grandpa had stopped guffawing and was wagging his finger at Christy. “The real way you know if it’s the right person is to evaluate his background. Do you come from the same place? Then you have a much better chance of making it through the hard times when they come. That’s how you know if it’s a match.”

Grandma let out a low chuckle. “Oh really, dear. You and I both know plenty of couples with opposite backgrounds that have made it through lots of hard times.” She gave Christy’s hands a pat and said, “The real answer, Christina dear, is that when it’s right, you’ll know.”

hristy wrote as much as she could remember of her grandparents’ advice in her diary that night. The group had been at the church cleaning up until nearly midnight. Uncle Bob and Aunt Marti hung around until almost nine before Marti felt one of her headaches coming on, and they left.

Matt and Christy were assigned to kitchen duty, where they washed every pot, pan, cup, and dish the kitchen owned. First Christy washed, and Matt dried. Then, when she complained that her fingers were too wrinkled up, Matt washed, and she dried. Matt used way too much soap when he refilled the sink, and a rollicking soap bubble war broke out between the two of them.

Christy had dollops of foamy bubbles on the top of her head, and Matt’s back was covered when his mom stepped into the kitchen. She scolded them as if they were six-year-olds and left the kitchen shaking her head.

Matt and Christy went back to their soapsuds war until they were both laughing so hard that they called a truce. Handing Christy a dry dishtowel, Matt said, “So what else can you tell me about Rancho Corona? Do you think I’d like it there?”

They talked seriously about college and moving away from home
for the first time. Matt admitted he was a lot more interested in Rancho now that he knew it was close to Christy’s home. “If I went there, do you think you would be willing to hang out with me sometimes on weekends?” Matt asked. “You could show me the sights. I’ve never been to California.”

Christy gave him a rundown of some of her favorite spots and how she made the adjustment when her family moved to California. When Matt walked Christy to the car in the church parking lot, he said, “I wish it weren’t so late. We could go somewhere and talk some more.”

“We have tomorrow,” Christy reminded him. Then she remembered she had invited Melissa to come along. She wished she were going to have him all to herself tomorrow.

Matt must have been feeling the same way, because the last thing he said to her was, “Maybe we can have some time to talk tomorrow, just the two of us.”

When Christy’s family arrived at her grandparents’, everyone headed right to bed. David tried to convince Christy to play another midnight round of Monopoly, but she turned him down. He decided to sleep on the enclosed porch since it was the coolest place in the house. Mom and Dad told him that was fine, and Christy was glad. That meant she had the bedroom to herself, and she could use the time to write in her diary.

After putting down her impressions of the evening, Christy chewed on the end of her pen and leaned back against the bed’s pillows. The soft light from the lamp on the nightstand cast a buttery glow about the room. She felt content. Tomorrow she would see Matt again, and that would be nice. She didn’t know for sure if there was something between them, but she didn’t feel as if she had to decide that yet.

Then, remembering the thoughts she had had about love at the reception, Christy wrote,

A thought came to her. She wrote quickly before it slipped away.

Suddenly Christy had such a clear thought that she held her breath. For one sacred moment, everything was still. If her guardian angel had even slightly fluttered one wing in that moment, Christy was certain she would have heard it.

She felt astounded that Almighty God had chosen to be committed and intimate in His relationship with her. Love was a choice, just like Grandma had said. And God chose to love her. Not just one time, but over and over again He made that choice, even when she did things He couldn’t stand.

As Christy scribbled that last thought in her diary, her eyes misted with tears. She closed her diary, turned off the light, and slid between the cool sheets. Outside the open window the crickets performed their nightly symphony. In the upstairs hallway the grandfather clock
tick-tocked
with unfailing rhythm, sounding its whole notes at the quarter hour.

Through the bedroom window came a welcome breeze. Christy turned her face toward the window and noticed the moonglow tiptoeing into her room. The summer moon spilled a filtered trail of thin, ivory light across the edge of her bed.

The beauty of the moment caused Christy to think of a verse in Psalm 68 that was a line in a song Doug had been teaching her.
Sing to the one who rides across the ancient heavens, his mighty voice thundering from the sky.… God is awesome in his sanctuary
.

As she watched the moon slowly shift its shimmering pathway toward the foot of her bed, Christy tried to remember the tune and hum it. God wasn’t thundering from the sky in His mighty voice tonight. He was murmuring. Or maybe He was humming the way she was, humming contentedly as He rode across the ancient heavens.

e’re ready to go, Christy! Dad said to tell you to hurry up,” David called out, pounding on the closed bedroom door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Christy hollered back. She couldn’t believe they had let her sleep in while everyone else was preparing for the picnic. She didn’t have time to shower or anything. In five minutes she pulled on her bathing suit, shorts, and T-shirt and frantically stuffed a few essentials in her backpack while trying to slip on her sandals at the same time. “Tell them I’ll be right there!”

Like a whirlwind, Christy grabbed her sweatshirt, a brush, and a clip for her hair. She flew from the bedroom and bounded down the stairs only to find Aunt Marti standing at the entryway wearing one her expressions of disapproval.

“Really, Christy, you should try to be a little more ladylike. This is your grandmother’s home, you know.”

“I know,” Christy muttered, not in the mood for any criticism this morning, especially from Aunt Marti. Christy slipped past her aunt and stalked out to the car, where Mom was loading the trunk.

“Why didn’t anyone wake me?” Christy asked, jamming her bag into an open spot in the trunk.

“I suppose we all had a lot going on,” Mom said, giving Christy a startled look. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, I would have appreciated having a little time to take a shower and eat something. It didn’t help that David kept coming up and banging on the door while I was trying to dress.”

“We’re only going on a picnic,” Dad said, entering into the conversation. He was lugging a big ice chest to the back of the car. “It would have been nice, Christy, if you would have gotten up and helped to make some of this food.”

“I would have been glad to, but no one woke me!”

“Seems to me a girl who’s almost eighteen years old can figure out how to set an alarm clock and get herself up in the morning,” Dad said gruffly. He hoisted the heavy ice chest onto the trunk’s edge, and with a bark in his voice he said, “You’ll have to make more room than that, Margaret. I told you the ice chest needed to go in first. Whose bag is that?”

“Mine,” Christy said, snatching her bag and sliding into the car’s backseat with a huff. She held her bag on her lap and sat there fuming.
I can’t believe I went to sleep with all those dreamy, spiritual thoughts. Then I woke up this morning ready to bite the next person I see!

Christy’s brother came over to her open door and said, “Scoot over. I want to sit on that side.”

“You can sit on the other side. I’m already here.”

“You always get to sit there.”

“So?”

“So it’s behind Mom’s seat, and there’s more legroom. Dad pushes his seat back so far it gives me leg cramps.”

“Oh, David, you don’t get leg cramps.”

“I do too!”

“Well, my legs are longer than yours, and I’m already sitting here, so you go sit on the other side. The drive’s not that far anyway.”

Their mom called from behind the car where she and Dad were still trying to fit everything in the trunk. “David and Christy, stop your arguing. I’ll sit in the backseat. You can sit in the front, David.”

He gave Christy a smirk, which she thought was about the worst thing anyone could have done to her at the moment. Christy pursed her lips together, working very hard not to let the words she wanted to say slip out. She drew in a deep breath and tried to calm down. It took her a minute before she felt as if her rampaging emotions had subsided. She prayed silently. Then she murmured, “David, I’m sorry. I’ll try to be nice.”

He turned around in the seat and looked at her as if trying to make sure she was serious. “Me too,” he mumbled after a moment.

Christy pulled her brush and hair clip from her bag and worked on her hair, getting it off her neck. The day was already hot. Too hot to be sitting in the car in the sunshine.

When her parents finally were settled in the car and her dad had backed the vehicle out of the driveway, it seemed to grow hotter before the air conditioning finally kicked in. At last, coolness could be felt in the backseat.