Authors: Robin Jones Gunn
Tags: #Interpersonal relations—Fiction, #Decision making—Fiction, #Universities and colleges—Fiction, #Christian life Fiction
Christy was glad for the chance to begin with something
simple. She liked feeling productive and able to measure her accomplishments.
“You can't be done already,” Donna said when Christy joined her at the register a short time later. A long line of students was waiting to pay for textbooks.
“I think I finished all the boxes you pointed out.”
“Lovely,” Donna said. “You are the answer to my prayers, believe me. Why don't you watch me go through a few transactions, and then you can jump in.”
The computer and credit card system were similar to what Christy had worked with at the pet store. She stepped in to try the machine after watching Donna on three transactions and went through the motions as if she had been doing it for years.
“You've got it,” Donna said. “I'm going to shelve some of those books, and then I'll open this other register. Let me know if you get stuck on anything.”
Christy didn't know why, but the act of serving like this, of using her hands to accomplish things, gave her a sense of well-being. The world was somehow a brighter place when she could get things done. She knew she was going to like working in the bookstore.
I wonder if having a degree in literature would be useful if I ended up working full time in a bookstore?
In the back of her mind she began to imagine in the most romantic way possible how dreamy her life would be if she and Todd married and lived in a cozy little house somewhere. They would have a vegetable garden in the backyard and a woodburning fireplace. She would bake cookies for the teens in the youth group, who would hang out at their house every Friday night. Every morning Christy would hop on a bike, like the one she had
borrowed all the time in Switzerland, and she would pedal off to a charming little bookstore where, at ten o'clock, she would host a story time for toddlers. Customers would come from all over to browse in Christy's bookstore. She would serve them cookies and teaâKatie's Indian summer herbal tea, once Katie perfected the recipe.
But by two o'clock, Christy's imagination was having a difficult time glamorizing a bookstore owner's life. She hadn't eaten lunch, and her stomach was complaining loudly. The line of students hadn't diminished. The computer went down for almost half an hour, and all the credit card charges had to be done manually. As more students flocked into the store with lists of required textbooks, Christy wished she had a stool to sit on or at least a thicker rug beneath her feet.
She realized she had been daydreaming about being married to Todd. It had been a natural assumption, a logical, comfortable foundation in her daydream. Christy felt a wonderful thrill of hope.
I must love Todd enough to commit myself to him for the rest of my life if I include him in my daydreams so easily. I have to tell Katie about this.
As soon as she thought of Katie, her spirits swooped down a couple of notches.
That is, if Katie is still speaking to me.
Christy finished a transaction for a girl who wore a hearing aid. She seemed to be immensely relieved when Christy presented her with the total for all her books and it was less than she had expected. That's when Christy realized that the majority of the textbooks she was selling were the ones off the used bookshelves in the back.
Christy wished she had been more organized and had shopped for her textbooks sooner, before all the used ones were gone. That was one check she wasn't looking forward to writing because she knew it would drain her savings.
At three o'clock, Christy signed off the computer, and another student took her place. Christy went to the back of the store and scanned the used textbook shelves. She found three of the books she knew she needed. The others would have to wait until she received an updated list after she made a final decision on her major and her classes.
Christy left the bookstore with her heavy textbooks and went to the guys' dorm to see if Todd was there. She entered West Hall and asked one of the guys on the couch how to call the rooms. He pointed to the phones on the wall, and she tried to call Todd. No answer.
That was one of the things that bugged her about being at a conservative Christian college. In Switzerland she had been in a co-ed dorm, and the guys and girls were both free to come and go as they wished. That meant she didn't always have her room to herself, if one of her two roommates was already there with a boyfriend. But that had only happened once. Christy was the one who stayed in the dorm room the most; so her roommates were the ones who went to visit the guys' rooms.
And there I was again last night, alone, while my roommate went off to be with someone else.
Christy left a simple voice message for Todd, saying that she would be in her room until five, when she
planned to eat an early dinner. Then she had a class from seven o'clock until nine.
Trudging across campus, she silently moaned about how far the guys' dorms were from the girls' dorms. The books she had bought felt heavier with each step.
It was much easier in Basel with all the housing in one area. It's so ridiculous for them to separate us across campus like this and put all these restrictions on us.
Christy was hoofing it past The Java Jungle when someone came running up behind her and said, “Hey, cutie, where have you been?”
With a playful smirk, Christy turned and said, “Where have
you
been?”
Todd had a stack of books under his arm and looked red in the face, as if he had been working out. “I was hung up with the counselor. When I got to the bookstore, your manager said I just missed you.”
“It looks like you're all set with your books,” Christy said.
“I only need two more,” Todd said. He reached for Christy's arm and pulled her toward the door of The Java Jungle. “Do you have any money on you?”
“Yes, about five dollars.”
“Good. I'm broke. How about buying me something to drink?”
The booths inside the air-conditioned café were packed. Only one table remained open. They dropped their books on it and spent all but three cents of Christy's five-dollar bill on drinks and snacks.
“Did you figure out your schedule?” Christy asked.
He grinned.
“I take it that means yes.”
“I can graduate in December,” Todd said.
“Really?”
Todd nodded proudly. “You were so right about taking those two summer school classes after I got back from Europe. That's what made the difference.”
“I don't remember telling you to take summer school classes.”
“That's right, that was Katie's idea. She convinced me on the plane on the way home. Of course, she didn't take any classes like she said she was going to.”
“She worked all summer,” Christy said. “That's why she has time for a social life this fall and why I'm working every spare minute I have.”
“How did it go your first day on the job?” Todd asked.
This time Christy was the one who answered with only a grin.
“I take it that means you liked it.”
“I like it so much that I was daydreaming about owning my own bookstore someday.” She decided to leave out the part about being married to Todd and snuggling with him in front of the woodburning fireplace. “And having a vegetable garden,” she added.
“Now, would the vegetable garden be part of the bookstore?” Todd asked. “Were you thinking the garden would be in front of the store? Out back? Inside?”
“Sure,” Christy answered in an effort to avoid giving specifics. “Any of the aforementioned is possible. Don't you think a vegetable garden sounds charming?”
Todd gave her a skeptical look.
“What about a woodburning fireplace?” Christy ventured further into her imaginary world and hoped Todd
would find part of her dream appealing. “Do you like fireplaces?”
He leaned back in his chair and asked, “Now, would this fireplace be in the garden or in the bookstore?”
“Never mind.” Christy felt as if she was getting nowhere. “Some daydreams are best left undiscussed, I guess.”
Todd gave her hand a squeeze. “I like fireplaces. And I like you. I like hearing about your daydreams. The vegetable garden, though . . . I don't know. But I know I like you.”
Christy smiled.
Go ahead. Say it. Say, “I love you, Todd.” Right here in the middle of The Java Jungle with all these people. Stand up and shout it!
Christy opened her mouth, but what came out was “I like you, too.”
Todd grinned. “I like you a lot.”
“I like you a lot, too.”
“I like you more,” Todd said.
“No, I like you more.”
Todd leaned forward and, with the warmest glow ever in his clear blue eyes, said, “I love you, Kilikina.”
Christy froze. She couldn't make her lips part. She couldn't push out the words. A single tear was all that escaped her heart and raced down her cheek.
Todd moved his chair over so that he was right next to Christy. He kept his hand in hers. With patient, gentle words he said, “You don't have to respond, Christy. I don't want you to feel pressured. Ever. In any way. Just let me love you, okay?” He leaned over and kissed the tear where it clung to the edge of her jaw. “Just let me love you.”
8
Todd and Christy spent most of the rest of the day together. They dropped off their heavy books in their dorm rooms, sat together in the cafeteria, and then Todd walked Christy to her evening class. At nine, he was there to pick her up after class. As he agreed to do earlier, Todd went to the library with Christy to review her schedule with her.
Sitting close on a couch in the library's lobby, they read the classes from the catalog and Christy began her list on a note pad. She felt good as she listed everything so she could see the schedule and figure out what worked.
“That's it,” Todd said after reading through the list of required classes for an English literature major. “Do you want to go through the classes for the humanities major now?”
Christy did some math on the side of the page. “No, more and more I like the idea of being a lit major. It's more focused than humanities, and literature fits me better. Like you said this morning at breakfast, I already have a save-the-world complex; a humanities major would only move me further in that direction. It would be like going back to the orphanage in Basel.”
Once Christy had everything written out, she stared at the paper and realized the list of classes was all that lay between her and a BA in English literature. It was bite-size, a clear road map.
“I think literature is a good major for you, especially if you want to open that bookstore someday.” Todd looked at Christy's calculations. “Is that total right? You could finish in two semesters?”
Christy nodded. “That's what the counselor told me, too. I had to see it for myself, but I could graduate next spring.”
Todd looked as if he had taken a deep breath and then dove, headfirst, someplace deep. She was certain that when he surfaced, he would hold sunken treasure in his fist.
Todd emerged after two full minutes from his underwater daydream. With a deep breath he said, “Okay.”
Okay? That's all you're going to tell me? Okay? Where did you just go? What did you see there, deep inside?
Christy knew that Todd wouldn't tell. And why should he? She hadn't yet given him the password that would allow him to open her heart's safe so he could store his fistful of treasures there. But she already knew what he was thinking because she was thinking the same thing.
We can get married, then, can't we, Todd? Katie wasn't pushing it as much as I first thought she was, was she? We are in the final stretch. The only thing missing is my commitment. I have to decide. I have to know for sure, and you understand that, don't you?
“Do you feel ready for your meeting with your counselor in the morning?” Todd asked.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
You're going to wait for me, aren't you, Todd? It doesn't matter
how long I take to make up my mind, your love for me is established.
“I better get back to my room.” Christy felt overwhelmed by her intense thoughts. “If Katie's there, I need to talk things through with her.”
Todd walked Christy to her dorm and gave her a warm hug.
“Sweet dreams,” she whispered in his ear.
“Sweet dreams to you, too.”
She watched him walk away and felt as if an invisible string were attached to her heart. With each step Todd took, that string unraveled another loop. If anything or anyone ever threatened to sever that invisible string, Christy knew she would fight with every ounce of her being to keep that thread intact. She and Todd were connected. Strongly, deeply, wonderfully connected.
Opening the door to her room, Christy found Katie plopped in the beanbag chair, tears streaming down her face.