Departures (9 page)

As Grandpa whispered to Grandma, Christy could see her grandmother’s face soften into the sweetest expression of love. With Grandma’s face glowing, she whispered something back to him.

The scene brought tears to Christy’s eyes, to think that her grandparents shared such sweet intimacy after all these years. Christy silently added “intimacy” next to “commitment” in her mental list of requirements for a lasting, meaningful relationship. She realized that intimacy was so much more than the physical part of a relationship. To her, intimacy meant knowing the soul of the other person and having access to that individual’s secret places in the heart.

These ideas were revelations to Christy. She never had thought through any of this so clearly before and wasn’t sure why it was so important that she do so now. She liked to record these kinds of thoughts so she could go back and look at them later and think them through some more. Remembering that her diary was in the bottom of her suitcase at her grandparents’ house, she promised herself that before she went to bed that night, she would write down all this information.
Looking at it on paper would help her to understand how she truly felt and what was going on in her life, especially with Matt.

Turning to face the entrance to the fellowship hall, as she had fifty times that night, Christy realized she might have to decide how she felt about Matt before she had a chance to write out all her feelings. Matt had just entered and was heading her direction with deliberate strides.

And Melissa was right behind him.

hat have we missed?” Matt said casually, pulling up a chair next to Christy. Melissa sat down beside him and politely ignored Christy, scanning the room to see who else was there.

“Hi. What are you guys doing?” Christy heard an edge to her voice when she asked the question but hoped Matt and Melissa hadn’t noticed. She suddenly felt as if the situation had changed, and she was now the one asking the same kinds of questions Melissa had asked at the Dairy Queen.

“I want to go to the movies,” Melissa said. “But Matt said he had to clean up here. I thought maybe the cleanup was almost done and we could go to a late show.”

Melissa wasn’t excluding Christy in her plans, but she wasn’t including her, either.

“Looks like the cleanup hasn’t begun yet,” Matt said.

“No. And there’s lots to do,” Christy said.

“Guess I better stay,” Matt said to Melissa. “You can stick around and help too, if you want.”

Melissa hesitated only a moment before saying, “I don’t think so, but thanks anyway.” She looked hurt.

“Hey, don’t say I didn’t offer,” Matt said.

Christy caught the teasing tone in his voice. She guessed that if he really wanted to, Matt could have gone to the movies and gotten out of his commitment to clean up. Christy liked to believe he was sticking around so he could be with her instead of with Melissa.

“I suppose you have big plans already for tomorrow too,” Melissa said to Matt while casting a quick glance at Christy.

“We’re going to the Dells,” Matt said.

Christy noticed that he didn’t explain both families were going. It sounded as if just Matt and Christy had made plans to go to the Dells.

“I’m not doing anything,” Melissa said with a sigh. “Ever since Paula left, I’ve been trying to find somebody to do stuff with, but everybody always has plans that don’t include me.”

Christy couldn’t decide if she felt sorry for Melissa. Christy certainly knew what it was like to lose a best friend, and oddly enough, she and Melissa had both lost the same best friend.

Rather slowly Christy said, “Do you want to come tomorrow, Melissa?”

Melissa gave Christy a startled look. “Are you sure?” Melissa turned to Matt.

Matt nodded. “Sure. You’re welcome to come. It’s just a big family picnic like we do every year.”

“What time?” Melissa asked casually.

“Around ten.”

“Okay.”

Christy didn’t know if she should be pleased with herself for being kind and generous or mad at herself for including Melissa in her last day with Matt.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Melissa said, rising to go.

Christy and Matt both said good-bye, then sat in silence for a few minutes. Christy wondered if Matt was upset that she had invited Melissa. It was hard to know since he hadn’t volunteered any information on how he felt about either Melissa or Christy. Perhaps the interest Christy felt toward him was as one-sided as it always had been.

“It sure was hot today, wasn’t it?” Matt finally said.

“Yes. It’s cooler in here now than it was a few hours ago.” Christy reached over to touch one of the daisies in the centerpiece. “I’m surprised any of these flowers are still alive.”

“It’s supposed to be hot tomorrow too,” Matt said.

“Oh,” Christy said. The last thing she wanted to talk about was the weather. “Hey!” Christy said, brightening. “Your mom said you were offered a scholarship to Rancho Corona. Why didn’t you tell me? I have some friends who want to go there.”

“Have you ever been there?” Matt asked.

“No, but it’s only about an hour from my house.”

Matt’s expression lit up considerably. “Really? I didn’t know Rancho was so close to where you live. Where are you going to school in the fall?”

Christy plucked a sprig of baby’s breath from the centerpiece and twirled it between her fingers. “I’m going to live at home and take classes at Palomar, the local community college. It seemed the best route for my first year since it’s the least expensive way to get my general ed classes taken care of.”

“I thought of doing that too,” Matt said, “until these full scholarships came in. They were both a surprise.”

“What were the scholarships offered for?”

“Baseball,” Matt said with a smile. “You didn’t think they were for academic excellence, did you?”

Christy shrugged and smiled, looking down at the flowers in her hand. “Some people have a burst of A’s their last few years of high school.”

“Were you one of those people?”

“No,” Christy answered with a laugh. “I earned every measly A I got. And believe me, there wasn’t a bumper crop of them, especially this past year.”

“Remember when we did those science projects in second grade with the lima beans and yours was the only one in class that wouldn’t sprout?” Matt leaned back and balanced on two legs of the folding chair.

Christy cringed. How could Matt remember that? She had pushed that painful experience far from her life. “Miss Kaltzer gave me a D. It was the lowest grade in the class, because she said I watered mine too much and killed it. I watered my bean just as much as everyone else did! That bean was a dud, and I still think the whole thing was unfair. It was a conspiracy! I think the janitor came in every night and watered just my bean.”

Matt laughed.

“I still hate lima beans. I refuse to eat them. As a matter of fact, I hate anything that resembles a lima bean.” Christy suddenly wondered if that was why she hated nuts.

Matt was laughing so hard the folding chair began to buckle underneath him. Christy noticed it and said, “Matt, your chair!” When he didn’t hear her, she reached over to grab his arm. Just as she
did, the legs gave way and the chair went down, taking Matt to the floor with it.

Matt kept laughing. He was laughing even harder from the floor, which made it impossible not to join in. Christy chuckled as a crowd of concerned adults gathered around to see what all the noise was about. Matt took a moment before he gained his composure.

“Are you okay?” Christy asked, offering him a hand to help him.

Matt took her hand and pulled himself up. She noticed how rough his skin was. Her dad had rough hands like that, which Christy always had considered evidence of hard work.

“I think I can fix it,” Matt said to one of the older church gentlemen, who was more concerned about the broken chair than he was about Matt.

“No, this one’s ready for the junk heap,” the man said, carting off the pieces.

Matt’s mom and Christy’s mom had made their way over to the group surrounding their table. “Glad you could make it,” Matt’s mom said.

“I told you I’d be here in time to take down the tables,” Matt said.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d start ‘taking down’ the chairs,” his mom said with a light tone to her voice.

“Hey, I didn’t do that on purpose,” he spouted.

“I know, I know,” Mrs. Kingsley said quickly. “Your father wants to see you. He’s in the kitchen.”

“You’re in trouble now,” Christy teased.

“I’ll be back,” Matt said, giving Christy’s elbow a squeeze. Christy smiled and noticed that more than half the guests had left. Her grandparents were seated one table over, sipping ice-cold lemonade and
saying good-bye to another couple who was leaving. Christy noticed Grandma and Grandpa were holding hands. It was so cute. She didn’t remember ever seeing her grandparents hold hands before. She had seen them kiss and hug, but hand-holding seemed so sweet and innocent.

Christy slid into a chair next to her grandma and smiled at the loving couple.

“What was all the commotion?” Grandpa asked.

“It was Matthew Kingsley,” Christy said. It surprised her that she used his full name, as if she were in grade school, tattling on him. “Matthew leaned back in one of the folding chairs, and it broke.” Then, for good measure, to prove to herself she wasn’t tattling, she added, “It wasn’t his fault. Mr. Gundersen even said the chair was ready for the junk heap.”

“That’s how it is with us old relics. Comes a point when we’re all ready for the junk heap.”

“Not you, sweetheart,” Grandma said to him with one of her charming smiles. “You’re as strong as you were the day we met.”

“When did you two meet?” Christy asked.

“Oh, you know the story,” Grandma said. “It was at a church social in Baraboo. He came to my house the next week to see me and then kept coming around until I finally said I’d marry him.”

“That’s right,” Grandpa said. “Her mother told me to hurry up and marry her so I’d stop eating them out of house and home. She said if we got married she would only have to feed me on holidays and occasional Sundays.”

Christy smiled. She had heard some of these kidding lines before. “How did you know Grandpa was the right man for you and that you were ready to get married?”

“You’re not thinking of getting married, are you?” Grandpa asked.

“No, of course not. I mean, eventually, yes. But not now.”

“You’re too young,” Grandpa said.

“I’ll be eighteen on the twenty-seventh of this month,” Christy said with a wry smile. She knew her grandmother had barely turned nineteen when she and Grandpa were married.

“You have a lot of time,” Grandpa said.

“I know. But when that time comes, how will I know if he’s the right one? How did you know?” She noticed that her grandparents had done a nice job of avoiding her question.

“You tell her, dear,” Grandpa said to Grandma. “I’d like to hear your answer.” He seemed fairly serious.

“All right,” Grandma said. She let go of Grandpa’s hand and reached across the table to take both of Christy’s hands in hers. Her new position caused her orchid corsage to bunch up on her shoulder and rest against her chin. Christy felt as if she was about to be told a great secret.

“It’s a choice, you know,” Grandma said, peering through her bifocal glasses and looking steadily at Christy. “You get to know someone and then you ask yourself, ‘Would I like to spend the rest of my life with this person?’ If the answer is yes, then you wait until you have a big argument. Or until something goes wrong, or he does something you don’t like. And when things are at their lowest, you ask yourself again, ‘Would I like to spend the rest of my life with this person?’ If the answer is still yes, then you know you’re in love.”

“That’s it?” Grandpa spouted. With a hoot he leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. If he had been heavier, he probably would have crashed to the floor the way Matt had.

“No,” Grandma said defensively. “That’s only the beginning. You make one big decision and follow it up with a lifetime of little decisions that support that first one.”