As You Wish (26 page)

Christy quickly jumped in. She wanted to preserve dear ol' Gus's memory as positively as she could. “It's wonderful, Uncle Bob. Thank you. You really didn't have to do this. Thank you so much.”

Christy wasn't sure if Todd caught all that was going on. He had been much more alert the past two days, but Christy knew he still was on pain-killers. That was why she hadn't attempted to tell him again that she loved him. She wanted to wait until he settled into Bob and Marti's house and things calmed down some. Then he would be able to hear her and to understand.

Leaning over and making eye contact with Todd, who sat patiently in the wheelchair, Marti said, “Well? You haven't said anything, Todd. What do you think?”

“Thank you,” Todd said flatly. “Thank you, Marti, Bob. You didn't have to do this. I'll pay you guys back.”

“You will do no such thing,” Marti said. “If you had any idea how much fun Robert had this week trying to find a car for you, you wouldn't dare rob him of his happiness. Or my happiness, either. I had a small hand in making this choice. It was either this blue one or a drab, olive green one. I said buy the blue one. Don't you think blue is much better than olive green?”

“It's perfect,” Todd said. He raised his hand and gave Marti's arm a squeeze. “Thank you.”

“Enough of all the thank-yous,” Marti said. “Let's get you in the car. We have the den all made up for you, and the sooner you get home, the better.”

Christy was amazed at her aunt's caring and efficiency as
she gave directions on how to get Todd into the car as painlessly as possible and where the flowers should be situated in the back of the station wagon. She even insisted Todd sit in the front seat while she and Christy took the backseat. Christy couldn't remember a time when her aunt had given up the front seat to anyone.

The hour and a half drive to Newport Beach went by quickly as Bob told the story of how he had searched for the right car. He had researched the Internet for cars ranked highest in safety ratings. Then he checked for the best year for Volvo station wagons and hunted for one with low miles and in good condition. He was proud of his accomplishment in finding this beauty. Todd and Christy both showered him with their exclamations of appreciation.

Christy felt pretty excited about having a car. She liked this one. In high school she and her mom had shared a car. She didn't need one in Basel, and the way her savings were going, she wouldn't have been able to buy her own for a long time. She smiled as she thought about how she and Todd now shared two possessions: a camp stove and a car. All they needed was a grungy dog, and they could get married and hit the road like a modern American gypsy couple.

Marti was right about having the den all fixed up for Todd. She had moved the leather couch back and set up a rented hospital bed in front of the wide-screen TV. Stacks of videos, magazines, and snack food were arranged on the coffee table, waiting for Todd. She had purchased several new T-shirts and surf shorts and had them folded on the end of the bed with the top sheet turned down, the way a fancy hotel would prepare a bed.

Christy knew Todd wasn't himself yet because he passed by all the food and extras. Instead, he crawled right into bed
and fell asleep within minutes.

“I'm going to keep his medication right here.” Marti showed Christy a tray she had placed on the end table. A pitcher of water sat ready with a glass and a straw and a thermometer.

Marti, you would have made such an efficient mother. It's really too bad you never had children. Although, what am I saying? After the way Marti always tried to make me into the daughter she never had, how could I wish on her unborn children what I had forced on me for so many years?

“Come see what I've done to your room,” Marti said. She led Christy upstairs in their modern beach-front house to the room Marti originally had fixed up for Christy when she came to stay with them the summer she turned fifteen. The decor had been a feminine combination of white eyelet curtains, pink ruffles, and flowers.

When Marti opened the door, Christy couldn't believe she was viewing the same room in which she had spent so many hours during her teen years. Now the motif was southwestern, complete with a stenciled desert landscape painted on the walls. The wall on the far left was covered with a blazing orange-and-pink sunset behind what looked like an actual wooden vegetable cart, complete with strings of red chilies hanging from the top. The mission-style bed was raised from the ground by adobe bricks. Dozens of tiny white twinkling lights were strung from the four wooden bedposts, and a sheer swath of ivory fabric draped the entire ensemble. In front of the window sat an antique table with a brightly painted ceramic water pitcher and washbowl.

The swirl of color and commotion overwhelmed Christy. She didn't know how anyone could be expected to actually sleep in such a room. All it needed was the piped-in sounds
of a coyote howling under the moon, and it could be the prototype of an attraction at a theme park.

“What do you think?” Marti asked eagerly. Bob had joined them, and Christy caught his glance before she spoke. He seemed to be cautioning her to think carefully before she answered.

“It's really something,” Christy said slowly. It was the most honest phrase she could come up with. She added, “You must have worked very hard on this.”

“Yes, I did, thank you. Come see my pottery.” Marti marched to the dresser near the adjoining bathroom and told Christy about each bowl, vase, and painted plate that was displayed on the dresser top as well as on hooks on the wall behind the dresser.

“They're really beautiful, Aunt Marti.” Christy meant it. The colors and shapes of Marti's pottery were stunning.

“Do you really think so?” Marti asked.

“Yes. I love this small dish, and the way you did the edges in blue.”

“I made that as a ring dish. You know, for when you take off your rings at night or to wash your hands. It's a nice place to put them. I'd like you to have that ring dish.”

“Oh, I like it, but you don't have to give it to me. I don't want to break up your collection. Besides, I don't have any rings.” Christy showed Marti her bare hands. “I mean, I don't usually wear any rings.”

“Then use it for your bracelet, Christina.” Marti nodded toward the gold ID bracelet Todd had given her, which Christy always wore on her right wrist. “At least until he gives you a ring to wear.” Aunt Marti's grin was cunning.

“Thank you.” Christy took the small blue dish her aunt had been holding. “I appreciate this very much. I also appreciate
all that both of you are doing for Todd. It's really nice of you to let him stay here.”

“No problem at all. You know he's like a son to us,” Bob said.

Marti looked at Bob over her shoulder and seemed to be softening. She turned to Christy. “There isn't anything we wouldn't do for either of you. You know that.”

Before Christy could stop herself, she blurted out, “Then don't leave, Aunt Marti. Don't go to Santa Fe. Stay here where you belong.”

White-hot anger flared on Marti's face. But no words spewed from her mouth. Christy pulled back, expecting the lava to come at any moment.

“I already knew.” Bob touched Marti gingerly on the shoulder.

She jerked away, as if his touch hurt her. “You told!” she hissed at Christy.

“No, I didn't tell anyone. I promised I would keep your secret, and I did.”

“Cheyenne told me,” Bob said.

Marti spun around. “Cheyenne? When?”

“Several weeks ago. He came by when you weren't home. I guess he thought you and I had discussed the situation, and he spoke to me about his plans for the art colony and how you were involved.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Marti spat the words at Bob.

Bob paused before answering softly, “Why didn't you tell me?”

“You know what?” Christy said. “I'm going to check on Todd. I'm sorry I said what I did.” She hurried to leave the southwestern guest room and paused before closing the door behind her. “But I meant what I said, Aunt Marti. I did
keep your secret. And I don't want you to go. I love you.”

As soon as Christy shut the door behind her, she heard her aunt yell at her uncle. Christy felt awful as she descended the stairs.

Why did I have to open my mouth? Where did that come from? It just popped right out. I didn't mean to start this war between Bob and Marti.

Christy knew she hadn't actually started anything between her aunt and uncle. Their problems existed long before Christy opened her mouth. She just wished she hadn't said anything. She wished she and Todd weren't here right now. She wished . . .

Suddenly Christy remembered Todd's phrase,
“As you wish.”
She stopped at the foot of the stairs. She could hear her aunt and uncle's muffled voices as they argued. Christy sat on the bottom step and prayed for them, concluding with, “And, Lord, I know what matters isn't what I wish would happen. I want things to turn out the way you wish. As you wish. Let it be so.”

Tiptoeing into the den, Christy was glad to see Todd still was asleep and couldn't hear Bob and Marti fighting upstairs. Christy smiled when she saw the peaceful expression on Todd's face. All over again she wanted to tell him she loved him. She wanted to kiss him and hold him and tell him that she would love him forever as intensely and sweetly as she loved him at this moment.

“I love you,” she said aloud, her voice low and steady. “The whole world and everyone around us might go completely mad, but that won't change my love for you, Todd.”

He didn't respond.

Christy padded off into the kitchen and found some apple juice and string cheese in the well-stocked refrigerator.
She saw the menu for the weekend written in Bob's handwriting and stuck on the refrigerator door by a magnet in the shape of a sailboat. He had listed lasagna for Friday night. If Christy knew her uncle and his interest in cooking, he already had made the lasagna, and it was waiting to be baked.

Her guess was right. The glass casserole dish was on the refrigerator's bottom shelf. Christy glanced at the clock. It was almost five o'clock. She decided to take the initiative, pop the lasagna in the oven, and put together a salad so dinner would be ready when everyone felt hungry.

As it turned out, Christy ate alone. Todd said he was just thirsty but thought he might eat some toast later. Lasagna didn't sound good to him.

Uncle Bob and Aunt Marti hadn't come downstairs yet, and Christy certainly didn't feel comfortable going upstairs.

Choosing to sit alone in the kitchen, Christy thought of all the meals she had eaten in this house and all the emotions she had gone through in front of her aunt and uncle. She wasn't frightened by the high-pitched level of their emotions she had seen today, as long as everything ended up settled between them.

“Please let them work things out, Father God,” Christy prayed. She ate and prayed and then put away the huge quantity of leftovers. She decided to make the toast for Todd, even if he wasn't awake yet. Spreading some butter on the bread, she then drizzled it with honey, the way her mom used to make toast whenever Christy was sick.

For a fleeting moment, Christy wondered if she would make a good mom. She thought she would. She hoped she would. But first of all and above all, she hoped she would make a good wife.

With her heart full of warm thoughts, Christy carried the toast into the den and found Todd sitting up with a handful of tissues over his nose.

“Are you okay?” Christy put down the plate. She noticed blood on the sheets and reached for more tissues.

Todd nodded. “Bloody nose,” he garbled. Pulling away his hand, Christy could see his nose had stopped bleeding.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No,” Todd leaned back. “Man, all this medicine is messing me up.”

“I'll get you a washcloth.” Christy returned with a damp cloth and a hand towel.

“I keep thinking one of these times when I wake up, I'll feel normal again, but I don't,” Todd said.

“You will,” Christy assured him. “One of these times. I'm amazed at how much you're sleeping.”

“It's the drugs,” Todd said. “I'd take myself off of them if I weren't still hurting so much.” He pressed his hand against his side, above his right hip, where the incision had been made for the surgery. He had mentioned before that the area was sore and that he could feel the sutures tugging any time he moved the wrong way.

“I could call the doctor.” Christy glanced at the clock. “I don't know if he's still at the hospital, but he might prescribe a different medication. When you were in the hospital, they had to change your pain-killer because you were seeing spiders.”

“Oh yeah,” Todd said slowly. He wiped his face with the washcloth. “I think I remember that. It's all so fuzzy. They were crawling across my bed, weren't they?”

“I wouldn't know,” Christy teased. “I didn't see the spiders.
But you certainly did. The nurse said it was common to hallucinate like that.”

“Will you call the doctor for me? Ask him if I can take something that won't knock me out or make my nose bleed.”

“Okay.” Christy turned to go back to the kitchen and then realized she was still holding the plate in her hand. “I brought you some toast with honey.”

“Thank you, honey,” he said with a teasing grin.

Christy grinned back. That was the first time Todd had called her honey. She liked it.

He called her honey again on Saturday morning when she brought him more toast and orange juice a little after nine o'clock. Todd had turned on the TV and was watching Saturday-morning cartoons. Christy returned to the kitchen, prepared herself a bowl of Cheerios, and made herself comfortable on the couch.

“How did you sleep?” Todd turned to watch Christy instead of the cartoons.