Christy Miller Collection Vol 2 Part 15

"No, Christy," Dad said, the laughter evaporating, "don't blame me, and don't blame yourself either. That's why they're called accidents. Come on." He headed back to the pa.s.senger side of the car. "Let's give it another try."

They went through the same seat-belting motions as before. Dad looked quite serious again. When Christy put the car in drive, she noticed Dad's right foot automatically hit the floorboard as if he were going for his invisible brakes.

Christy looked straight ahead. "Can I just ask you one little question?"

"Yes?" Dad faced forward, right arm braced against the door and left hand on his seat belt.

Christy playfully leaned forward, gripping the steering wheel like a race car driver, and said with a giggle, "You sure your life insurance is paid up, Dad?"

"Now, don't get silly. Driving is serious business."

She could see the smile he suppressed, so she added in her best Disneyland ride attendant voice, "Please keep hands and arms inside the moving vehicle at all times, and remember there is no flash photography."

Then smooth as can be, she began her driving exercises around the parking lot.

"Let's hope there are no flashes of any kind," Dad said in a low voice. "Pay attention to what you're doing now. Turn right up here, and go down to the end."

Greatly relieved and feeling more relaxed than before, Christy did what she considered to be a very good job of navigating the parking lot, and she told her mother so when they got home. She left out the part about the b.u.mper, and thankfully, Dad was still outside so he couldn't fill in any of the missing details.

Christy flopped into the well-used recliner and hung her legs over the armrest, waiting for Mom's encouraging comments.

"That's good, dear," Mom said, folding clothes and stacking them in neat piles on the couch. "Don't be disappointed, though, if you're not fully ready or able to get your license exactly on your birthday."

"I will be. Besides, it's a big deal here. I mean, maybe it wasn't back in Wisconsin when you were growing up, but everyone I know in California who is sixteen has a license. I'd be embarra.s.sed if I didn't."

Mom placed a folded T-s.h.i.+rt on Christy's pile of clean laundry and tossed her a mound of bath towels, still warm from the dryer, which Christy snuggled into like a kitten in a feather bed.

"Those are for you to fold, not make a nest out of," Mom said. "All I'm saying is you shouldn't try to take the test until you're completely ready."

Christy dropped the first folded towel to the floor beside the recliner. "Mom, do you think Uncle Bob really meant it when he said he'd pay for my insurance the first year?"

"Certainly. You do remember the condition though. You must pa.s.s your test the first time you take it. He was very firm about that. Which is why I'm saying don't take the test until you're absolutely certain you'll pa.s.s. Oh, I almost forgot."

Mom handed Christy a letter that had been underneath the mound of laundry. "This came for you today."

Christy folded the last towel and took the letter from her mom. She didn't recognize the handwriting. The letter, written on a single piece of notebook paper, read: Dear Christy, I've thought about what you said, and I think you're right I'll tell you more about my decision when I see That was all. The last sentence wasn't finished, and the letter wasn't signed.

"Who's this from?" Christy asked, scanning it again before trying to decipher the smeared postmark on the envelope.

Who wrote this? What did I say? And what kind of decision did somebody make based on something I said? This is strange!

Mom hadn't heard her. She stood by the screen door, a load of folded clothes in her arms, looking at Dad, who was bent over the back of the car in the driveway.

Christy decided to check the handwriting against some of Paula's old letters and started down the hall to her bedroom.

"Christy, what is your father doing to the car? He has a hammer in his hand. Christy?"

Christy quickly slipped into her bedroom and quietly closed the door.

"This family sure doesn't know how to keep secrets," Christy complained to her mother the next morning in the car.

"Why do you say that?" Mom changed into the fast lane on the freeway and glanced at her watch.

"When Aunt Marti called this morning, she knew all about what happened in the church parking lot yesterday."

"That's 'cuz I told her," David piped up from the backseat.

"Why?" Christy turned around and scolded her nine-year-old brother. "You don't have to always tell everybody everything."

David, a compact version of their dad, had a silly smile on his face. His funny look was exaggerated by his gla.s.ses sliding down his nose.

He ignored her by returning his attention to the miniature cars on the seat beside him. Rolling one of the cars along the vinyl seat, he spoke in tiny cartoon voices. "Look out! There's a telephone pole up ahead! Don't worry, it's over a mile away. Doesn't matter! Christy's driving! Oh no! Aaaaayyee! Cras.h.!.+ Bang! Boom!"

Christy didn't do him the honor of turning around. She calmly said, "Mom, make him stop."

"David, don't make fun of your sister."

"I'm not, Mom. I saw this on a cartoon once. Really!"

"David!"

"Oh, all right. Can you put on some music? When are we going to get there? Are we going to stop and get something to eat?"

"We've still got another hour before we get to the airport," Mom said, checking her watch again. "And no, we're not going to stop to get something to eat. You can wait until after we pick up Paula."

"Are we going to stay overnight at Aunt Marti's?" he asked.

"No, we'll probably just stay for lunch and then come home."

"How come I have to go to the airport with you? It's boring!"

"Because last night you begged to go," Mom answered. "Or did you forget?"

"I wish I'd stayed home." David folded his arms and leaned against the door.

"You're not the only one," Christy muttered under her breath.

"Christy!" Mom snapped. "Listen, you two, I want you both to try harder to be kind to each other, especially when we go..." She stopped, and they both waited for the rest of her scolding.

"Well, especially when we go places together like this. Just try harder, all right?"

Neither of them answered, and Mom shot quick, serious glances at them. "All right?"

"Okay," came from the backseat.

"All right," Christy said with a sigh.

They did pretty well the rest of the drive into Los Angeles International Airport. The only disagreement they had came when Mom tried to hurry and David wanted to get a drink of water.

"Come on, David!" Christy yelled. "We don't have time!"

Mom had already scooted ahead of them into the flurry of people. As Christy took David by the arm, she could barely see which way Mom was going.

"Stay with me, David! It's too easy for a little kid like you to get lost in the mob."

He wiggled his arm free but stayed right by her side until they reached Mom, who was talking to somebody in the waiting area. Christy stepped up behind Mom. Since she was several inches taller than her mother, she could see over her shoulder, but she wasn't ready for what she saw.

"Paula?"

The Wisconsin farm girl with the baby-doll face and big, round blue eyes jumped up and shrieked, colliding with David as she wrapped her arms around Christy in an exuberant hug.

"I'm here! I'm here!" she announced to Christy and everyone in the waiting area.

Paula looped her big bag purse over her shoulder and breathlessly, dramatically said, "I was freaking out, you guys! I guess my plane came in early. About ten minutes early, they said. And I got off, and I didn't know anybody, and oh man, I was really worried, and I just sat down and tried to be really calm and everything, and then your mom walked up, and I almost started crying, and then I saw you, and it was like it hit me that I was really here!"

Christy laughed at her friend's enthusiastic commentary. Paula had been like that ever since Christy could remember. She seemed "more" Paula than the Paula Christy had grown up with and hadn't seen for almost a year.

"You cut your hair!" Christy exclaimed.

Paula fingered the side of her very short hair. "I had to! You got yours cut when you came here last summer, and so I thought I should get the California look before I got here, but..."

Paula seemed to notice Christy for the first time. "You're growing yours out! I can't believe it's past your shoulders already! Last time I saw you it was short!"

Then her round cheeks turned a spicy shade of pink, and in a panic she said, "Oh no! Is everybody growing their hair out this year? Am I the only one with short hair? Oh no!"

"Paula!" Christy laughed and spoke softly, hoping Paula would take the hint and lower her voice too. "You look great! This is California. You can wear your hair any way you want. Don't worry. Relax!"

Mom suggested they pick up the luggage, and Paula kept chattering. Christy watched her and thought how really good Paula did look.

She always had been a little cutie, with her long blond hair and innocent, little girl looks. Now, except for the same big baby-doll eyes, Paula looked more like a young woman than a little girl. Her figure had turned out to be much better proportioned than Christy thought her own was, and the sophisticated hairstyle and obvious makeup made Paula look much older than her fifteen years.

It felt strange walking beside Paula, listening to her ramble on, oblivious to how loud she was and how people were turning to look at her. Christy thought of how the year they'd been apart had changed both of them and how she'd waited so long to see Paula again. Now that she was here, well, for some reason Christy felt squeamish.

"You know what I mean?" Paula said, snapping Christy back into the present.

"Oh, yeah, uh-huh." Whatever you just said.

"I mean, who knows when I'm going to get back here again, so while I'm here I want to see and do everything we can, and I've been saving up my money so you won't have to pay for me for anything, and maybe I can help pay for gas and stuff when we go places."

Mom calmly turned and spoke solid words to Paula, which made Christy listen carefully. "We will all have a good time, Paula. Just keep in mind that you may get to see some things you didn't expect to see and you may not get to see some things you'd hoped to."

"Oh, I know. My mom said the same thing. I'll be fine whatever we do, really. I don't want to be a bother or anything."

"You're not a bother," Mom said as they stood at the crowded luggage carousel. "We're glad you're here."

"Oh! Look! There are my bags already. That big, ugly brown one and the two little ones next to it."

"Looks like you brought enough stuff to stay a month!" Christy teased as the girls stepped back and let Mom and David capture the moving targets.

"Oh, don't I wis.h.!.+ I had a hard enough time coming for two weeks because we have this big family reunion I have to go to right when I get back. I'm going to have the best tan of anyone there too!"

Christy laughed at Paula's innocent comments. She sounded like such a playful little girl, yet everything in her blue eyes told Christy that Paula had become very serious about her goals.

And she had a lot of goals!

The two girls shared the backseat during the hour and a half drive to Bob and Marti's. Paula went on about how her friend Melissa had gotten her a job at Dairy Queen and how she had saved all her money for the past seven months. She had more than three hundred dollars left, and that was after buying some new clothes and paying for half of her airfare.

"I have to buy a new bathing suit before we go to the beach. I'd just die if I had to wear my old one and people started to laugh at me like they did at you last summer."

"They didn't really laugh at me," Christy said defensively.

"Yes, they did. When you wrote me, you said they made fun of your green-bean bathing suit!"

"Is that right, Christy?" Mom looked in the rearview mirror. "You never told me that."

It was one of those embarra.s.sing moments Christy didn't want to repeat, especially to her mother.

"Thanks for reminding me, Paula!" Christy said, with enough sarcasm that she hoped no one could tell how much it really bothered her.

"I'm only saying that I learn from your experiences, Christy. So I wouldn't let my mom buy me a new bathing suit before I came to California because I wanted to buy one here, like you did."

"Is that why Marti bought you all those clothes last summer?" Mom asked.

"Well..." Christy had long struggled with the way her aunt so freely gave to her and yet also tried to control through the giving. "You know how Aunt Marti is, Mom. She likes things to be her way, and she's very generous." I hope that came out okay. The last thing I want is for Paula to misquote me to my aunt!

"I can't wait to meet your sister, Mrs. Miller." Paula leaned forward in the seat. "I've heard so much about Aunt Marti that I just know I'm going to like her. I can't wait to see their house. I've never known anyone who lived in a house right on the beach, and at Newport Beach too! Christy, you are so lucky! Is it very far from here? Where are we?"

"We're almost there," Christy's mom said and then asked Paula about how her mom and dad and all her family were. That filled the twenty minutes it took to arrive at Bob and Marti's.

"There's never any parking here during the summer," Mom said with a sigh and then remembered, "Bob's in Maui, so I'll park in his usual spot in the driveway."

"Your uncle is in Maui? That's in Hawaii, isn't it? What am I saying? Of course it's in Hawaii... isn't it?"

"Yeah." David spoke up for the first time in an hour. "And Todd's there, too! I wish I could've gone with them."

Mom pulled into the driveway and said to David with an unusually perky smile, "Watch what you wish for, son. You just might get it."

"Huh?" David said.

Mom turned off the ignition and was the first one out of the car, followed by Paula. Christy had to admit that watching Paula experience the aura of the California beach lifestyle really was fun. Paula approached everything with a fresh excitement and delight.

"Look at this house! Is it gorgeous or what? I can't believe this house! Is that your aunt at the front door?"

Aunt Marti, a slim, sophisticated woman who only slightly resembled Christy's mother, stepped out onto the front steps, which were decorated with painted clay pots br.i.m.m.i.n.g with bright summer flowers. The blooms spilled over the sides and down the front walkway.

"So, this must be Paula!" Marti greeted them. "Welcome to California, darling. How was your flight?"

Marti gave each of them her usual feathery kiss on the cheek without smudging her lipstick or ruffling her short, dark hair.