As You Wish (9 page)

Todd's expression told her he most certainly didn't know that. “I thought he was friends with Wes and Sierra and that you just met him today in the lunch line.”

Christy laughed. “No, our families have been friends since before either of us was born.”

Todd looked out the window and then at Christy. “Did I know that?”

“I thought you did. Didn't I tell you that I saw him the other night when Katie and I were in The Java Jungle?”

Todd shook his head.

Christy filled Todd in on Matt being the same Matt number fourteen Katie had told them about on the train in Europe.

Now Todd looked even more surprised. “And neither you nor Katie knew that until today?”

“No, and the worst part was that Matt didn't remember Katie.”

“Ouch,” Todd said.

“Yeah, ouch. That's why Katie didn't join us for lunch.”

“He's a great guy,” Todd said. “I appreciate his servant's heart.”

“He is a great guy,” Christy agreed.
But not the guy for me, that's for sure.

Todd shifted in the driver's seat and turned toward Christy. “What did he mean about you having dinner with him?”

Christy wondered if she should explain to Todd her crazy little jaunt to the land of if only that morning and how she had let herself wonder what would have happened if she had gone out with Matt. But it all seemed like nothing to her now, so she decided not to mention it.

“Matt and I were going to meet at the cafeteria last night, but I forgot all about it. That's why I asked you what time it was when we were having pizza with Katie.”

It occurred to Christy that, although her fleeting thoughts about Matt had left her, she didn't know if their long-ago, unexplored interest in each other was a closed
subject for Matt. Perhaps the reason he wanted to finish their conversation was because he also had taken a jaunt to the land of if only and was possibly still there.

Did I say or do anything to make Matt think I would be interested in going out with him? I didn't mean to. He knows Todd and I are together, doesn't he?

Christy realized that she and Todd hadn't done or said anything while they were around Matt to lead him to believe they were a couple. If Todd had thought that Matt was one of Sierra's friends whom Christy had just met at lunch, perhaps Matt thought the same about Todd.

Christy realized the parked van was becoming uncomfortably hot. Todd opened his door and asked, in what sounded more like a statement, “Do you want to walk?”

“Sure.” Christy was glad to climb out of the hot van and off the uncomfortable seat. She had complained a week ago that the passenger seat was “decomposing” since the springs were poking through. Todd had fixed it by covering the seat with a piece of cardboard and then placing a folded beach towel on top of the cardboard. The whole contraption slid as she got out.

Todd reached for her hand, and they walked along a cement pathway around the park's perimeter. The playground to the left was filled with noisy children who were busy swinging, climbing, and sifting sand in the sandbox.

Christy and Todd headed away from the noise.

“I wanted to talk about something you said at the church,” Todd said. “You said I was ‘at home' there. I think you're right. And you know why that's so hard for me to comprehend? I don't know that I've ever been ‘at home' before. Not completely. Except with you, Kilikina.”

Whenever Todd called Christy by her Hawaiian name,
she melted. This afternoon was no exception.

“I feel at home with you, too,” Christy said. “Completely at home.”

“Do you?” Todd asked.

“Yes, I really do.” Christy put aside her unsettled thoughts about Matt and concentrated on Todd. If she had miscommunicated anything to Matt, she could talk to him later and clear it up. Right now, this is where she wanted to be, and Todd was the one she wanted to be with.

“The thing is, I don't know what a normal family is supposed to act like,” Todd continued. “I have an idea of what I want for my future family and what I consider to be normal, but I've never had that. I have few role models. When I came to the Lord, church became really important to me. I wonder if that's why it seems I'm at home, as you said, in a youth ministry situation. Church, and particularly youth groups, are the most stable, positive model I've ever had for anything.”

“Was your childhood pretty awful?” Christy asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“I've wanted to ask you lots of times before, but it didn't seem as if you liked to talk about that part of your life. I want to hear more,” Christy said. “Especially about your childhood.”

“You knew my parents were both on drugs when they met,” Todd said.

Christy wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a joke. She waited for Todd to explain. He led her off the trail to the shade of two old trees. Todd sat with his back against a broad tree trunk and Christy to his side, facing him.

“They really were on drugs. I never told you this, but my mom was pregnant with me when they got married.”

“She was?” Christy wished she didn't sound so surprised.

“She was only seventeen.”

Christy realized for the first time why Todd had cared so much about Alissa, a teenage friend of theirs who had become pregnant a number of years ago. Alissa had decided to have the baby and give it up for adoption. At the time, Christy thought it strange Todd was so involved and enthusiastic about Alissa's decision. Now it made sense. Todd had been an unplanned baby of a teenage mother.

A shiver ran up Christy's spine.
What if Todd's mother had decided he was an inconvenience to her life? What if she had believed twenty-three years ago that what she carried in her body was only a mass of tissue? What if . . .

Christy stopped. She found herself breathing deeply and almost in tears. But she didn't want to tell Todd what she had been thinking. That morning, her thoughts of Matthew had taught her it didn't do any good to take a trip to the land of if only and spend a lot of time there.

The reality is that Todd's mom didn't choose to end her son's life. She gave birth to him. One day I'll thank her for that. And if I never thanked you, Father God, for giving Todd life, I thank you now.

“My parents got married because I think both my mom and dad wanted to do the right thing,” Todd said. “I know they both tried to straighten out their lives after I was born. My mom told me once that the day she found out she was pregnant with me, she vowed never to do drugs again, and she didn't. It took my dad a little longer to sober up. When I was little . . . I don't know, maybe three . . . my parents had a fight over something, and my dad was stoned, and he hurt my mom.”

“Todd, that's awful.” Christy reached for Todd's hand and gave it a squeeze. The tears she had been trying to hold back were about to trickle down her cheeks.

He looked at her cautiously. “Are you sure you want me to tell you all this?”

“Yes, of course.” Christy gave him an encouraging look and blinked back her tears. “I just didn't know how bad it had been for you. I was thinking of that night when we were talking out on the jetty at Newport Beach, and you and Shawn got in that big fight because he was so stoned. Now I can see why that upset you so much.”

Todd looked down at their hands and said, “I still miss Shawn, if you can believe that.” He stroked Christy's Forever ID bracelet with his thumb.

“That's because you really care about your friends. Forever.”

Overhead a jet streaked into the west, leaving a mark like a white chalk line across the deep blue sky.

“Are you sure you want to keep talking about all this?” Todd asked.

“Yes.”

“What else would you like to know?” Todd asked.

“What happened when your dad hurt your mom?” Christy asked in a soft voice.

“That was the day she left him. I don't know if he hit her or what. She never told me. I never asked my dad. He never hit me. He's never been violent or anything. I don't know. Maybe they just had a fight. Words can hurt for a lifetime, too, you know. For whatever reason, my mom left. She took me with her, and we lived on the road for a while, sort of hiding from my dad.”

“I wonder if that's where you get your interest in traveling
so much,” Christy said. She was trying hard to be positive.

“I don't know. Maybe. After that, I'm not sure how everything fell into place. My dad sobered up. My parents got back together for a while, but it didn't work out. They tried to patch up things, but there were so many cracks it all came crashing in. When they finally divorced, they were just taking the legal steps to put on paper what was already true in their lives. Their marriage never had much of a chance. It was all a bunch of broken pieces from the start.”

“Is that when you and your dad moved to Maui?” Christy asked. “Weren't you in third grade then?”

Todd nodded. “That was an important time in my life. My dad was trying to figure out who he was, and I was doing the same. We were more like brothers with eighteen years between us than father and son.”

“Your dad was only eighteen when you were born?” Christy asked. “I never knew that.”

“There's a lot you never knew because it didn't seem important,” Todd said. “But I think it might help you to know so you can make good decisions.”

Christy felt herself prickle slightly when Todd brought up her decision-making skills. But he was saying it in such a gentle way that she asked him, “Do you mean decisions about our future together?”

“Yes. And decisions about me. I realized I was beginning to assume a lot about us and about our future when I just figured you would want to teach Sunday school. What you said about getting more information and having a chance to think and pray about teaching also applies to us. You should have more information about me and my family so you can think things through carefully.”

Christy felt her heart softening even more toward this man who sat before her. And he was a man. Todd was no longer a teenager, hanging around the beach, waiting for the perfect wave, taking each day as it came. She had been there through that season of Todd's life. The man who sat a few inches away was thinking about the future. He was making it clear that he wanted her to consider the whole package before agreeing to sign on for the next phase in their relationship.

“For instance,” Todd continued, “I don't really know how to do stuff like birthdays and Christmas. If you and I end up together,” Todd hesitated, as if trying to decide if he should go on. “I'm not trying to assume anything here, I'm just saying you should know that all the holiday kind of stuff would be up to you, or whoever I end up with. I mean, I'd help and everything, but since I didn't grow up with any traditions, I'd be learning it all for the first time.”

“There's not much to learn.” Christy felt compassion welling up inside. “You've been around my family for birthdays and holidays. Those times are whatever you want them to be. Whatever you make them.”

“That's exactly what I mean.” Todd let go of her hand and swatted away a bug from his face. “I want so much. I want birthdays to be an event. They never were for me. And if, you know, when I end up having kids someday, I'd want them to think they were the coolest kids on the planet every year on their birthdays.”

“I think that's important, too.”

Todd plucked a blade of grass, twirled it between his fingers, then let it fall to the ground. His voice softened. “One year when I was living with my mom, she forgot my birthday. It was the year I turned five. I remember because I was
in kindergarten, and we were living in an apartment in Phoenix, I think. Or maybe that was when we were in Flagstaff. Anyway, I remember this guy from her work asked her out to dinner on my birthday.”

“And she went out with him?”

Todd nodded. “My mom is a wonderful person, really. It's just that she was excited about the attention, you know. She forgot it was my birthday. She left me a peanut butter sandwich and told me to put myself to bed by eight-thirty.”

“What did you do?”

Todd shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “I ate my sandwich and went to bed with my BB gun under the covers in case a burglar broke in while my mom was gone. I don't remember if I went to bed by eight-thirty or not.”

“Todd, I can't imagine what that must have been like for you.” Tears blurred Christy's vision.

Todd shifted his position uncomfortably. “It's not like I was some abused, neglected child locked in a closet and forced to eat dirt.” He laughed nervously at his attempt at a joke.

“In a way you were,” Christy said.

“I don't want to look at it that way,” Todd said. “I knew both my parents loved me. They wanted me, you know? They could have easily gotten rid of me either before I was born or after, but they didn't. They provided everything I needed. I think they just didn't know how to love on a very deep level. They didn't know how to love each other. Or maybe they did love each other, but only as much as they could at eighteen years old. I mean, when I think about it, my mom was only twenty-three when I had my fifth birthday. I'm going to be twenty-three in a couple months,
Christy. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a son in kindergarten right now.”

Christy felt funny. The warm feelings that had made her so compassionate toward Todd a few minutes ago were beginning to disappear. In their place, she sensed the same sort of tired, sad feelings that had drained her so much at the orphanage during the past year. She felt sad for Todd; yet she knew she couldn't do anything to change his childhood. It seemed as if she was being introduced to a different person from the blue-eyed surfer boy she had fallen in love with. This new man-version of Todd was more complex than she had expected him to be.