Read Christy Miller Collection, Vol 3 Page 19


  “Another one for Aunt Marti.” David handed Marti a small, long, narrow box tied with a gold ribbon.

  “Bob, you shouldn't have,” Marti protested. “I told you all I wanted this year was a white Christmas. You already gave me that.”

  Bob grinned and said in his good-natured way, “I thought you needed a few snowflakes to keep with you all year long.”

  “Oh, Robert, you are the most wonderful husband in the world.” Marti's long manicured nails slit the gold ribbon on the box and snapped it open.

  With a gasp she exclaimed, “Oh, Robert, it's absolutely beautiful!”

  Christy felt as though she were watching a commercial as Marti removed the sparkling diamond bracelet from the box and held it in the light of the red Christmas tree bulbs so everyone could see the glistening bracelet.

  Bob looked at Marti proudly, pleased with his wife's reaction. “Am I forgiven for the snowball ambush?” he asked with a grin.

  “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Christy caught the expression on her dad's face. Dad was a dairyman, not a self-made real estate millionaire like Uncle Bob. When her parents married, they were so poor that Dad had given her mom a simple gold wedding band. Mom never even had an engagement ringf.

  How could her mom handle this so graciously? Mom had never received a diamond in her life. Yet here she sat, watching her sister ooh and aah over a bracelet filled with diamonds.

  Christy's mother leaned over to Dad, placed her hand, the one with the simple gold band on her finger, on his leg and whispered something in his ear. Dad turned and looked at Mom. It was as if they each sent a love letter to the other with their eyes. It was beautiful.

  No one else had noticed what had passed between Christy's parents because Bob, Marti, and David were busy trying to close the bracelet's clasp around Marti's slim wrist. Christy felt a little embarrassed, as if she shouldn't have been watching the intimate moment between her parents. At the same time, it made her feel warm and secure.

  “Go ahead!” Marti said eagerly. “Someone else open a gift now.”

  “I will!” David dove for the largest box, which did indeed hold the video game set he had been hinting to Uncle Bob for. Another round of squeals and more hugs were lavished on Uncle Bob.

  After all the gifts were opened, the wrapping paper crammed into garbage bags, and one last round of cocoa had been poured, everyone headed off to bed.

  Christy carried upstairs her new ballet-style slippers and thick peach-colored robe from Mom and Dad. Bob had already been in her room, and a crackling fire filled the room with its amber glow.

  After putting on her pajamas, Christy slipped into the new robe. She felt cozy and surrounded with warmth, ready to stretch out on her window seat.

  Tonight no snow fell outside her treetop window. The sky had cleared, and she could see the stars. Tucking her legs under her and pulling the new robe tight around her middle, Christy undid the lock on the double windows and pushed them open.

  The brisk night air ran in to greet her. She stuck her head out the open window, gazing up at the stars.

  Those stars are Your diamonds, aren't they, God? They're beautiful— like diamonds scattered on black velvet Why are they scattered? They should be gathered together to fill Your crown, not spilled out on heaven's floor.

  For a long time she sat before the open window, watching the stars, breathing in the cold night air, and burrowing her hands in the large pockets of her plush robe. She felt small compared with the vastness before her. All her feelings from the past few days seemed to level out and, in a way, became insignificant when held up against thoughts of eternity.

  When You were a baby, did You see that bright star over Bethlehem? Could You see it from Your manger bed? Did you know that star was shining for You?

  In the stillness, something stirred in Christy's heart, something stronger than she had ever felt before. She felt deeply loved, as if Someone were calling her name without using a voice. It was an invisible communication of love, like her parents using only their eyes to speak to each other.

  “I'm here,” she whispered back.

  That was it. There were no angels, no big celestial experience. Only the stars in the sky and the firm assurance deep within her that God loved her. It was Christmas Eve, and just like the shepherds, Christy felt she'd been included in a great, eternal secret. God is with us!

  The next morning, when Christy awoke, she realized it was Christmas, and she was in her charming mountain bedroom. Then she remembered all the warm, close-to-God feelings she had experienced the night before.

  She tried to put the feelings into words, as if she were writing a report to document the event. But she couldn't describe it. Besides, no one else needed to know. It was between her and God—something rare and sacred. Last night God had called her by name, and she had echoed back the love.

  She could hear someone moving around downstairs and decided to pull on her robe and slippers and join whoever it was. She found Uncle Bob in the kitchen, making breakfast.

  “Merry Christmas!” Christy greeted him. “Do you need some help?”

  “Sure do, Bright Eyes. The pan on the stove is hot. Can you slide the bacon in there?” Bob placed a tray of homemade cinnamon rolls in the oven.

  Within minutes, the cabin filled with the smells of bacon and cinnamon rolls.

  “Better start some coffee,” Bob advised. “These breakfast smells are sure to rouse the rest of the house in no time. Coffee's over there in the white bag. Can you hand it to mer

  Christy reached for the bag of gourmet coffee and drew in its rich fragrance before handing it to Bob. She loved the smell of coffee but had never liked its taste.

  “It's Jesus' birthday,” she said suddenly to her uncle.

  He had typically slipped out of any conversation she ever tried to have with him about God. This morning she couldn't help but say something, still feeling God's presence.

  Bob didn't respond.

  “Did you ever think about how amazing it is that God laid down all His power and came to us on our level? He was God, and He let Himself become a baby.”

  Bob busily measured the freshly ground beans and pressed the coffeemaker's “On” button.

  “I mean, that kind of love amazes me. To have it all and lay it aside so you can go undercover into enemy territory and rescue the ones you love. That's incredible, isn't it?”

  Christy didn't care that her uncle wasn't responding. She was on a roll. God's love seemed so clear to her. “Especially because most of the ones God loved and came to rescue didn't even like Him. But He did it anyway because He loved them. He loves us. He never gives up. He never stops loving us.”

  Bob turned to face Christy with a tight grin on his face. “You make it sound pretty romantic, young lady.”

  “I think it is romantic. Jesus is like the ultimate Prince on a white horse coming to the rescue!”

  “And I suppose you're the princess.”

  “Yes.” Christy held her head high, “I am. And He saved me.”

  “What about her?” Bob said, taking several steps into the living room and reaching for a newspaper in the bin of fire-starter material. He held it up so Christy could see a picture of a small girl with huge eyes and a swollen stomach. The newspaper headlines gave statistics of how many had died of starvation that week in the little girl's wartorn country.

  “Why didn't your Jesus ride in and save this little princess?” Bob asked.

  Christy could feel tears come to her eyes—tears for the little girl and for herself. Bob's question had spoiled the aura of love she had been basking in.

  Apparently recognizing how harsh his question had seemed to Christy, Bob tossed the paper down on the hearth and moved close to her.

  “Don't get me wrong, Christy. There's your sweet fantasy, and then there's reality. I don't want you to get the two mixed up.”

  “God isn't a fantasy. His love is more real than anything,” Ch
risty stated.

  Bob shook his head and gingerly flipped the popping bacon. “If your God is so full of love, then why would He allow that innocent child to suffer?”

  Christy drew in a deep breath and answered honestly, “I…I don't know.”

  Dad called out as he carried suitcases to the car for the trip home.

  Christy emerged from the cabin carrying a bottle of shampoo and said to Marti, already seated in her car, “I found this in your shower.”

  “Oh, toss it for me, will you? The bottle is wet, and I've already closed my suitcase.”

  Since the bottle was nearly full of expensive shampoo available only at salons, Christy made sure the lid was on tight and “tossed it” into the trunk of her uncle's car.

  Bob carried the last suitcase over and swung it into the car trunk. “That should be it,” he said, shaking Dad's hand.

  Turning to give Christy a kiss on the cheek, he asked, “When are you going to come up and see us?”

  “When do you want me to come?” Christy responded.

  “Well, when do you have some time off work?”

  “This week. I don't work again until the day after New Year's.”

  “Is that so?” Bob looked back at Christy's dad. “Why don't we take her home with us today? You folks can come up for New Year's Day, and we'll watch football on my new home theater system. What do you think, Norm?”

  Dad thoughtfully scrunched his eyebrows together. “I don't know, Bob. You sure Marti doesn't mind?”

  “Not a bit,” Bob said. “We love having you any time. And you know how Marti feels about Christy. She's the daughter Marti never had.”

  “I suppose it would work out. You'd think we could have discussed this before the last minute when we're ready to leave.”

  Bob and Dad settled the details as if Christy weren't standing there. Not that she minded them making plans for her, especially since the plans were to go to Newport Beach. The problem was the Rose Parade. She hadn't brought it up with her parents yet, and she needed their permission before she could make any plans with her Newport Beach friends.

  “Dad,” she said. “I need to ask you something.”

  Dad looked surprised, as if he had just noticed she was standing there. At that moment Mom joined them.

  'Would it be all right with you and Mom if I went to the Rose Parade with Katie and some other friends?”

  Dad looked amazed. 'WTien did you dream this up?”

  “My friends started to make plans last week, but I was waiting for the right time to ask you.”

  Bob gave his approval. “Sounds like a great idea! The Rose Parade is a lot of fun for teenagers. They camp out on the street all night. It's quite a tradition with Southern California kids.”

  “They sleep on the streets?” Mom asked in disbelief.

  “Sure. It's fairly safe. Sort of an all-night New Year's Eve party,” Bob explained.

  Marti, apparently noticing that she was missing out on something, left her warm spot in the car to join the rest of them.

  “Sorry, Christy,” Dad said firmly. “Tradition or no, you're not sleeping on the street to watch some parade.”

  Christy's face showed her full disappointment, and she blurted out, “I knew it. I don't know why I bothered to ask. Katie's going. She went sledding too. I had to work that day, remember? Katie wanted to go to the Bible study in San Diego at Rick and Doug's, and her parents said it was okay. But I didn't even ask you guys because I knew you'd say no. You always say no.” Christy stopped to catch her breath.

  “I think she should go,” Marti spoke up. “After all, she is sixteen and very dependable. And I know most of her friends, and they are all to be trusted. If you're too strict with a child of this age, that child will rebel, you know.”

  Christy thought her aunt was kind of funny, spouting off her untried child-rearing ideas to Mom and Dad.

  Dad looked at Mom, and Mom looked back at him. They seemed to have reached the same conclusion without saying a word to each other.

  “We'll compromise on this one, Christy,” her dad said, his eyebrows together again, this time with sternness. “You can go to the Rose Parade, but you can't sleep overnight. Either your mother and I will drive you up there early on the morning of the parade, or if Bob wants to, he can drive you.

  “No problem,” Bob said. “I'd be glad to take her.”

  “But she'll miss all the fun with the rest of the young people,” Marti protested. “The party the night before is what it's all about.”

  Christy felt like saying, “Hush, Aunt Marti! Let's settle for what we got out of the bargain.”

  “It's too risky,” Mom said. “Maybe when you're a little older, Christy.”

  “That's fine!” Christy jumped in before Marti had a chance to say anything. “I really appreciate your letting me go. You know it's something I've wanted to do since I was a little kid back in Wisconsin.”

  “Yes, I know,” Dad said. “I'm glad you have the chance to go. Maybe we should plan on all going together as a family next year.”

  “Oh, Norm,” Marti scolded, “what teenager wants to be seen with her parents at a place like that? It's strictly a teen party.” Turning to Christy, she added enthusiastically, “Speaking of teen parties, I have the perfect solution. Why don't you invite all your friends to come over to our house after the parade to watch football with your uncle? I'll order some food, and we'll make up for you not being able to. sleep over at the parade.”

  Dad had already lifted Christy's suitcase from the trunk and was walking with it over to Uncle Bob's car.

  'We'll call you once we've made our final plans,” Marti said to Mom and whisked Christy over to the car. “Bye, all!” Marti called over her shoulder, stepping out of the chill mountain air and into the warm car.

  “Now, I thought I'd order one of those deli trays,” she continued once they had settled into the car. “Those are always good for a group of hungry young men.”

  Christy waved good-bye to her parents and watched David appear from the forest, where he had been playing. David pointed at her and looked upset. She imagined he must be whining because she was going with Bob and Marti and he wasn't. Maybe there were some advantages to being the eldest.

  Bob steered the car down the narrow, winding mountain road while Marti rattled on with her big party plans. Christy wondered if the party was really for her or for her aunt.

  Two hours later they arrived at Bob and Marti's plush beachfront home, and Christy lugged her suitcase up to her familiar guest room. It was Monday afternoon, and New Year's Eve was three days away.

  She had some arrangements of her own to make. First, she would call Katie and let her know she was in Newport and that her parents said she could go to the parade. Then she would call Tracy and see if they could get together over the next few days. Maybe she would call Doug too. And if she felt really brave, she would call Rick, and try to talk things out on the phone so that when she saw him at the parade, things wouldn't be so tense.

  Marti had other plans for how Christy would spend the next few days. Before Christy could even unpack her suitcase, Marti was tapping her nails on Christy's door and asking if she could enter.

  Armed with a pad of paper and a pen, Marti planted herself on Christy's bed and said, “Let's start the guest list. How many total do you think we'll have, dear?”

  “I'm not sure. Maybe six or seven.”

  “Oh, come on! Certainly you want to invite more than that.”

  Christy felt she had no way of knowing how many would be there. So she made up a number. “Seventeen.”

  “All right, then,” Marti said, making notes. “Seventeen guests. I'll order the large deli tray and several side salads. Most people like potato salad, don't they?”

  'Yes, I'm sure they do.”

  “Now, for drinks we'll fill the ice chest with sodas and beer.”

  “Beer?” Christy questioned.

  “For the college boys,” Marti explained. “They'll want
to drink beer with their potato chips while they watch TV, won't they?”

  “Aunt Marti, you know my friends. They don't drink.”

  “None of them? Not even beer?”

  “No! Besides, I would never feel comfortable having a party where alcohol was served. I don't want any beer at this party.

  “All right,” Marti said, sounding defensive. “I was only trying to help you throw a successful party at which everyone had a good time.”

  “I know, and I appreciate it. Really. With my friends though, just getting together is all they need to have a good time.”

  “You know, Christina.” Marti put down the pencil. “You are a unique young lady. I was so different from you when I was your age. In case I haven't told you before, I have great admiration for your strong character. I believe you might make something of yourself.”

  “Thank you,” Christy said. “And thanks too for offering to have the party. I appreciate all you do for me.”

  Looking back at her notepad, Marti pressed on. “Let's see, we'll need lots of snack foods too. Do you have any preferences? Chips? Candy? We can make a list, and I'll send Bob to the store tomorrow.”

  The list-making continued for nearly half an hour. Christy was eager to finish so she could make her phone calls.

  But as soon as Marti finished with her lists, Bob joined them with a list of his own. “These are the movies playing in town tonight, and the times they start,” Bob explained, showing Christy the long list. “If none of them appeals to you, we could rent a movie. I also thought we'd go out to dinner, since we're low on groceries. That is, unless you two ladies have already made other plans for the evening.”

  “No, dinner out would be fine,” Marti said. “Why don't you make early reservations at the Five Crowns? I don't think we've taken Christy there yet.”

  “Okeydokey,” Bob said. “Can you two be ready in an hour?”

  “Certainly. And Christy, can you separate your laundry? You've probably run out of clean things to wear. Come to think of it, all you have with you are clothes for the mountains. We'll have to go shopping first thing tomorrow morning and buy you something to wear to the Rose Parade and then something to change into for the party.”