Departures (7 page)

Christy felt her heart start to pound.
I wasn’t hinting that I wanted him to kiss me! Or was I? Oh no! I can guess what he’s thinking. Should I pull away? Run inside? I don’t want to kiss him … or do I?

Matt gave her shoulder a little squeeze. He appeared as nervous at this moment as Christy felt. They both sat there, neither making the next move.

efore Christy or Matt had a chance to say anything more, the porch’s screen door squeaked open and then slammed shut. Matt pulled away his hand from Christy’s shoulder, and they both looked through the windshield to see Christy’s uncle coming toward them.

“My aunt and uncle are here,” Christy said.

“I better let you go,” Matt said. “I’ll be at the reception for your grandparents tomorrow. My parents are going early, I think. I’m coming after work so I’ll probably be late.”

“That’s okay,” Christy said, glancing at Matt and then at her uncle, who was headed for his rental car. She turned back to Matt, and with a more relaxed smile she said, “I really had a fun time, Matt. Thanks so much. I’m glad you’re coming tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay,” Matt said.

Christy couldn’t tell if he looked nervous or relieved that she was getting out of the truck. She waved as he started up the engine, and she called out, “Thanks again!”

“How’s my favorite girl?” Uncle Bob asked, walking toward Christy with a smile.

“Good! How are you guys? How was your flight?”

“Not the best. A little bumpy coming into O’Hare. Marti has a headache so I’m getting her travel bag.” Motioning over his shoulder in the direction Matt’s truck had just turned, Uncle Bob added, “I hope I didn’t cut into anything important for you.”

Christy avoided the question. “That was Matt Kingsley. His mom is good friends with my mom.”

“Sure,” Bob said, reaching in the backseat of the luxury rental car and pulling out Aunt Marti’s small suitcase. “Jane Kingsley. I’ve met her. Nice folks.”

Bob had a casual, easygoing manner that Christy appreciated. He and Marti lived in a beautiful house at Newport Beach and had welcomed Christy and her family to California with open arms. Standing here in the heart of Wisconsin, wearing his knit polo shirt and khaki slacks, Uncle Bob seemed out of place to Christy. She could guess this visit was less than comfortable for Aunt Marti, who liked things always to go her way. She came off as sophisticated and stylish, and she didn’t like people knowing that she came from such a small midwestern community.

Christy’s hunch about Marti was right, she discovered, when she entered the house with Bob and found Marti at the kitchen table, holding a cold cloth on her forehead.

“Oh, Christy dear,” she cooed. “You will forgive me if I don’t get up. I’m afraid I have one of my migraines.”

“I didn’t know you got migraines,” Christy said. Her mother gave her a look that communicated to Christy, “Don’t get her started.”

“Did you have a good time?” Mom asked.

“You’ll never guess what we did,” Christy said, pulling off her sweatshirt and leaning against the kitchen counter. “Matt took me on
a little tour of my past. We visited the Dairy Queen and all the schools, and then we went miniature golfing at Ollie’s Peewee Golf.”

“No fair,” David moaned. “I wanted to go.”

Christy ignored his comment and turned to Aunt Marti. “Do you remember my eleventh birthday when you came here and the party was at Ollie’s?”

“Oh yes,” Marti said without looking up. “That beautiful, big birthday cake I ordered nearly melted, it was so hot.”

Christy didn’t remember a thing about the birthday cake melting.

“Perhaps we should go to the hotel, Robert. I’ll be better once I get some sleep. And I’m sure the air conditioning will help as well.”

“Did you want to take one of these before we go?” Bob asked, handing Marti a bottle of pills.

“Would you like a glass of water?” Christy asked. She was standing by the sink and thought it was the least she could do for her aunt.

“Oh yes, thank you. And add some ice, will you? The humidity here is awful,” Marti moaned.

Christy didn’t mind the humidity all that much. The climate was certainly different from that at the beach in Southern California, but it wasn’t uncomfortable in Christy’s estimation. Besides, Marti had grown up in this house. Was it so hard for her to accept things the way they were here?

Christy dropped two ice cubes into Marti’s glass and then slipped it under the shiny, new kitchen faucet. Christy lifted the handy-dandy handle Grandpa had installed and turned it to the right for cold water. Suddenly the handle came off in her hand and a spray of water shot straight up like a fountain, soaking Marti and herself.

“What did you do to it?” Grandpa kept yelling.

“Nothing!” Christy tried to keep a straight face, but she burst out laughing. “I didn’t do anything!” All she could do was stand there, using her hands as a shield from the jubilant spray of water.

“Turn off the water underneath,” Dad barked.

“I’ll get my tools,” Grandpa shouted above all the yelling and laughing. Marti was the one doing the yelling. Or perhaps shrieking was more like it. Christy was certain that if her aunt didn’t truly have a migraine before, she certainly had one now.

Christy moved aside and took the hand towel Grandma offered her. The broken handle was still in her hand. “Honest,” Christy said, looking to her mom for support. “All I did was turn the handle, and it came off.”

Grandpa appeared with some tools, which he handed to Dad, who was now on his back on the floor with his head under the sink.

As quickly as it had begun, the shooting water show was over, and all was quiet. Christy looked at her grandfather sheepishly and held out the broken handle. “Honest,” she said, “all I did was—”

“I know, I know,” Grandpa said. “I’ll fix it.” He mumbled something about how they don’t make hardware like they used to and wiped his wet face with his sleeve.

Christy turned to apologize to Aunt Marti, who was sopping wet. Christy’s mom and grandma were still chuckling softly at the mishap as they handed Marti dishtowels and tried to comfort her. Marti, however, would not be consoled.

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Marti.”

“It was an accident!” Marti kept shrieking, as if she were trying to convince herself more than excuse Christy. Marti rose from the table with her husband’s assistance, and the two of them left for their hotel.

ou and David should get to bed too,” Mom said. “You’re both upstairs in the bedroom on the left.”

Christy hid her disappointment. She had hoped she could be by herself wherever she ended up sleeping tonight. She had a lot of thinking to do and wanted to have a few things settled within herself before she saw Matt again the next day.

Once they were in their room, David convinced Christy to play a game of Monopoly with him. She wasn’t sure why she agreed. It could have been because she went miniature golfing and he didn’t. Or because, as the oldest, Christy often was allowed to go more places and do more things than David, and she was taking pity on him and realizing this was his vacation too.

Whatever the reason, they set up the old, well-worn board on her bed and began to divide up the crumpled play money. They kept their voices low and used a big flashlight David had found in the top dresser drawer instead of turning on the light. Neither of them felt tired. They argued only a little and played until after one in the morning. In the end David won, which made him gloat as if he were king of the world.

Christy fell asleep with a grin, realizing she and her brother had just spent several hours together, and they both had had fun. That
happened so rarely Christy couldn’t help but feel as if she deserved a pat on the back for being such a terrific big sister.

However, when Grandpa knocked on their door at six thirty in the morning, calling them to breakfast, Christy felt she deserved a thump on the head instead of a pat on the back. Why did she think staying up half the night was such a good idea?

Dragging themselves out of bed, Christy and David went downstairs in their pajamas and sat down to Grandma’s pancakes and warm maple syrup.

“Don’t you two look like something the cat dragged in!” Grandpa exclaimed.

David and Christy looked at each other and exchanged subtle nods and knowing grins. They shared a secret. It wasn’t a rich enough reward to make up for the lack of sleep, but it was fun.

“Maybe you two should go back to bed,” Mom suggested. “I didn’t think the time change would be this hard for you to adjust to.”

“Would it be okay if we slept for another hour or so?” Christy asked.

“Fine with me,” Grandma said. “Eat first, if you like. It will give you a nice full stomach to dream on.”

“I’ll wake you at nine thirty,” Mom said. “Do you think half an hour is enough time to get dressed? I’d like both of you to help at the church. I’m meeting Jane there to decorate the fellowship hall at ten o’clock.”

“Sure,” Christy said, pushing away her half-eaten stack of pancakes. “Wake me at nine thirty. And, Grandma, these are great, but I’m full. Can you save them for later?”

“Certainly, dear. Sweet dreams!”

Christy shuffled back upstairs with David not far behind her. She dropped right off to sleep and felt much better when Mom came in and woke her at nine thirty. David was already up. It turned out he wasn’t able to fall back asleep so he had dressed and joined Grandpa in the garage, which is where Christy and her mom found them at ten. Dad was with them, and they were all working on some kind of contraption Grandpa had spread out across his worktable.

“We’re ready to go,” Mom said.

“Christina, are you going out with your hair dripping wet like that?” Grandpa asked.

“It’ll dry on the way,” Christy told him. She had taken a long shower and didn’t want to hold up everyone else while she dried her hair. “It’s a hot day.” Christy noticed how true her statement was. It was hotter now than she remembered it being all afternoon and evening the day before. She wondered how Marti would deal with the heat.

When they arrived at the church and entered the fellowship hall, Christy noticed that Marti wasn’t there to help. Christy decided it would be better not to ask why.