I Promise (25 page)

Matt and Sierra left, and Katie stood with her hand on her hip looking around the apartment. “This is a bit bleak, isn't it?”

“It'll cheer up once I put some pictures on the wall,” Christy said.

“Or maybe add a stick or two of furniture.”

A tear trickled down Christy's cheek.

“Oh, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings,” Katie said. “You guys will fix it up. You'll get a bunch of wedding presents, and you'll find a real couch and a kitchen table. It'll be wonderful. You're just starting out.”

Christy sniffed. “I need flowers, Katie.”

“Flowers?”

“Yes, flowers in a pot by the front door. And maybe a welcome mat. That's what I need.”

“Say no more. I was wondering what I could buy you for a housewarming present, and now I know. Come on, let's buy a flower and a welcome mat.”

An hour later, Katie and Christy returned to the apartment all smiles with a bright, cheery potted daisy and a welcome mat. They also had a box of tissues, six homemade chocolate-chip cookies from the bakery, a
bottle of liquid soap, and a bottle of lotion to put by the kitchen sink.

“Now it's home,” Christy said, arranging her new treasures.

“You certainly are easy to please,” Katie said.

“Todd is the minimalist. I don't require much, but the few necessities I do need are paramount.”

“I wish I could stay and help you put pictures on the wall, but I have to run. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes, I'll be fine. When Todd gets home, he's going to drive me down to my parents'.”

“Did you hear what you just said?” Katie asked. “You said when Todd gets home. It worked. You do see this as your new home.”

Christy reminded herself of Katie's comment as she unpacked her boxes and checked out the kitchen cupboards. She found three paper cups, one coffee mug, and a stack of paper plates. She rinsed out the coffee mug, filled it with water, heated it in the microwave, and made herself a comforting cup of tea.

Looking for the tissue to blow her nose, she found Katie had put the box in the bathroom. Christy stood there blowing her nose and noticed a big glob of toothpaste in the sink. The towel was on the floor instead of on the towel rack. Todd had been living here.

Continuing her tour into the bedroom, she was relieved to see their new bed had arrived. Todd had slept on the floor in a sleeping bag when he first had moved in. His dad offered to buy a bed as his wedding present to them, and they both gratefully accepted.

The comfy-looking bed was set up in the small bedroom, but it didn't have a headboard or any sheets on it. One rather worn wool army blanket lay at the foot of the bed. The blanket looked like a World War II relic, which was depressing. But noticing it was folded, Christy felt hopeful Todd might be a little tidier than the evidence in the bathroom suggested.

Todd had a dresser; Christy had a bookcase and a chair.

This is more pathetic than I realized. We are really poor.

Christy went to work unpacking her boxes and deciding on which empty wall she should hang her few pictures and posters. She worked quickly and had all her boxes unpacked in short order. She filled up the bookshelf, put her small rug in front of the kitchen sink, and hung the poster of the waterfall with the memorable bridge on the wall in the kitchen. The splash of color did the apartment a world of good. She dusted off the top of Todd's dresser and placed her framed pictures of the two of them next to the only item Todd had on the dresser, the picture she had given him for his birthday.

All that was left to unpack was the box with her yellow patchwork blanket, a useless set of twin sheets, two bath towels, her pillow, and a treasure she knew she wanted to keep with her always. It was her old pal Pooh, the stuffed Winnie the Pooh Todd had bought her at Disneyland. Pooh had held her secrets and wiped her tears for too many years to be left in a box
in her parents' closet. She hoped Todd would understand.

Christy carried her yellow quilt into the bedroom. The bed looked so inviting. She stretched out, tucked Pooh under her arm, and pulled her blanket up over both of them. Settling in on the right side of the bed, Christy wondered if Todd preferred the right side. Or would they sleep together in the middle every night, wrapped in each other's arms?

Through her fuzzy head floated puffy, fluffy, happy dreams like summer clouds coasting through a deep blue sky. And that was the last thing she remembered.

Many hours later, Christy woke. She didn't recall where she was at first. Then it all came tumbling over her. She looked toward the bedroom doorway and gave a startled gasp when she saw Todd standing there, watching her as she slept.

He was leaning against the doorjamb, arms folded across his chest, a gentle smile on his face.

“Hey, how's it going?” That phrase, that voice, had echoed for half a decade through Christy's waking hours and in her dreams. For a moment she wasn't sure if she was awake or if this was part of her dream.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Awhile. I took a shower. The noise didn't wake you?”

“No.”

“You have no idea how beautiful you are when you're sleeping, Kilikina.”

Christy wanted to hold out her arms to her beloved,
inviting Todd to come to her and hold her. But she didn't move.

Todd didn't move, either. It was as if they were once again at an intersection in their lives. In the early years, the red lights had been there to give Todd and Christy a quick chance for a kiss and a memory. Today an invisible red light did the opposite. It kept them from kissing. Christy knew Todd felt what she was feeling. God was controlling the traffic lights at the intersections. He would change the light to green in eight short days. Until then, it would be foolish to run a red light.

“How are you feeling?”

“I'm okay.” Christy tossed back the comforter, and Pooh tumbled to the floor. Christy didn't know if Todd noticed. “We have to be sure to thank your dad a thousand times. This is the most comfortable bed I've slept on in two years.”

“The delivery guys came this morning,” Todd said. “I see you brought your own blankie.”

Christy folded her patchwork comforter. “My grandma made this. I've had it since elementary school.”

“I never knew that,” Todd said.

“I never knew you left your towel on the floor.” Christy walked toward him.

“Uh-oh. Is that one of those issues they talked about in our premarital counseling? Should I hang up towels so that you feel more loved?”

“It wouldn't hurt,” Christy said. “But I should confess
that my last roommate never made her bed or hung up her towel, so perhaps Katie prepared me for you.”

“How do those vows go, now? For better or worse? Richer or poorer?”

Christy stepped out of the bedroom. As soon as she stepped over the invisible line and stood on Todd's side, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close.

“I think we have the poorer part figured out,” Christy said.

“Hey, I like all the Christy touches you added to our home. The flowers by the front door and the welcome mat are especially nice,” Todd murmured. “Do you want to head out for your parents' house?”

“Yes, I think we better.”

They both stayed at her parents' that night. Once again the allergy medication made Christy konk out. She woke in a Saturday-morning sort of daze and padded out to the kitchen in her pj's, robe, and slippers.

The house was silent. Pouring herself a bowl of cereal, she sat down at the kitchen table. A moment later Todd and David walked into the kitchen. Christy instinctively clutched the top of her robe. She knew she looked awful. Her hair was going in every direction, and she needed a shower.

“Morning, beautiful,” Todd said.

“I look terrible!” Christy squeaked. She could tell by the expression on David's face he agreed with her evaluation.

If you can call me beautiful when I look like this, my soon-to-be husband, then you'll be in for a nice surprise next Saturday.

“We're going to the skate park for an hour or so,” Todd said. “When I get back, you can give me the final to-do list.”

“Okay.” Christy tried to tuck her stringy hair behind her ears.

“See ya,” David said as they marched past her.

The door to the garage closed. A moment later it opened, and Todd's face appeared around the corner, wearing a boyish grin. “Hey, you in the bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, if you're not doing anything next Saturday, what do you think? You want to get married?”

Christy grinned and held out her arms to provide Todd a full view of her frumpy robe, flannel pj's, and disheveled hair. “For better or worse,” she said.

“From where I'm standing, I'm thinking it can only get better by next Saturday. At least I'm hopin'.”

Christy took off one of her fuzzy slippers and heaved it at him. He shut the door just in time for the slipper to miss its target.

Christy returned to her bowl of cereal, laughing to herself. She thought back to their first date to Disneyland when she had thrown her sandal at him.

She hadn't realized her mother had stepped into the living room and was watching the scene. Mom looked surprised, as if she hadn't seen this side of her daughter before.

“Don't worry, Mom. He was laughing.”

Mom shook her head. “I shouldn't wonder, dear. You really should have a look in the mirror.”

One very short week later, Christy heard her mother once again say, “You really should have a look in the mirror.”

Only this time, no one was laughing at how Christy looked.

She was wearing her wedding dress and was standing in the middle of the living room of a hotel suite that Marti had rented close to Rancho Corona. At Marti's insistence, Bob and she had stayed overnight close to the college and then turned over the suite as a dressing room for Christy on the morning of May 22. Marti also had insisted Christy allow Marti's favorite hair and makeup artist to come at eleven so that, after Christy showered, she could have two hours set aside for what Marti called “beautification.”

It was now one-thirty. The wedding was at three o'clock. Christy was ready. In every way, she was ready.

“Your gown turned out perfect.” Katie adjusted the train in the back. “I'll make sure it's smoothed out like this when you stand under the arch.”

Christy inched her way to the bedroom in the suite so she could have a look in the full-length mirror on the closet. Katie followed her, adjusting the train as Christy walked.

“Wait! Don't look until we put on your veil!” Marti bustled over to the refrigerator, where they had stored the flower wreath that arrived from Maui that morning.

“Close your eyes.” Tracy came up alongside Christy and took her by the hand. “It will be better if you wait and have a look once your veil is on. Then you'll see for the first time what Todd is going to see when you come down the aisle toward him.”

Christy closed her eyes and felt at peace. All the extra planning had paid off. Everything was coming together perfectly. Marti's extravagant pampering had been a blessing, and Christy had told her so several times.

At the rehearsal dinner the night before, Todd had stood beside his father and praised him in a kind and generous way. Todd's mother couldn't “work out the details” to come to the wedding. Everyone knew it was a last-minute letdown and silently had sympathized with Todd, but he seemed to handle the disappointment well.

After honoring his dad, Todd had turned to Bob and Marti and thanked them for being his honorary parents. He called Marti the “mom I never had,” listing how she had been there at many key moments in his life as a teenager and a young adult. He told her he loved her and always would. He kissed her, and Marti cried.

Christy let Tracy lead her into the bedroom and position her in front of the mirror. She smelled her wreath of flowers before she felt Marti place it on her head. The sweet fragrance of the island tuberose filled her with exotic memories. She knew Todd would recognize the fragrance, as well. It would circle both of
them as they repeated their vows.

“Bend down, Christy, dear. You're too tall for me,” Marti said. “I don't want to ruin your hair. It's perfect. Absolutely perfect. That's it. A little lower.”

Christy's grandmother spoke up. “Why don't you let Margaret help you with that?”

“I've got it,” Marti stated firmly.

“Don't start an argument here,” Katie teased.

Behind her closed eyes, Christy thought back on the argument she and Todd had two days ago. It was one of the worst they had ever had. More than five months ago, when they had decided they were going to say “I promise” instead of “I do,” Christy and Todd had agreed they would write their own vows. Christy had worked on hers off and on for months and had finalized them before their last meeting with Pastor Ross, who was performing their ceremony.

Todd, however, as of two days ago, hadn't begun to work on his. When Christy found out, she fell apart. She said some awful things, Todd said some awful things, and for one frantic moment, Christy feared the whole wedding would be called off.

But they found their heads. Cleared their hearts. Talked calmly. Then they called Pastor Ross, and he made some helpful suggestions. In the end, they decided to repeat the traditional vows so that neither of them would go blank at the last minute while under the pressure of the ceremony. Christy decided she would place her personally created vows on a beautiful piece of stationery and make it her final entry into the
shoebox of letters for her future husband.

That collection of letters, complete with her written-out vows, was wrapped with a white satin ribbon and tucked into the bottom of her honeymoon luggage, directly under her white lingerie. A smile played across her lips as Christy thought about all that this very special day and night would hold for her and her beloved.