Christy Miller Collection Vol 2 Part 39

"Come here, girlfriend," Rick said in the mall parking lot after he had walked Christy to her car. "I've waited all week to give you this."

He opened his arms and wrapped Christy in a warm hug. "Sorry about getting mad earlier. It won't be so bad spending a few Friday nights helping you sell out the store. And once you're off restriction, we can still take in a late movie."

Christy pulled back from his soft voice in her ear and decided to let him have all the bad news at one time. "Rick, even after I'm off restriction, I still have to be home by ten o'clock. And I didn't get a chance to talk to Jon about changing my hours. I'm also scheduled for eleven to six on Sat.u.r.days."

Rick released his hold and looked at her in disbelief. "You agreed to work Sat.u.r.days too? All day? What were you thinking, Christy?"

"I needed the job. I told you that."

"Fine, fine!" Rick held up his hands as though he didn't want to touch this topic any longer. "You go ahead and have your job and have your two weeks' restriction. That should give you enough time to figure out where I fit in your life. I've waited too long for us to be together to end up jumping all these hurdles you keep putting in my way."

"Rick..." Christy began, trying to reason with him, but he'd already stalked off, leaving her alone by her car.

She drove home, refusing to cry, and went right to bed. What a mess her life had turned into.

The next morning she showed up at work at ten-thirty, hoping her early arrival would help make up for the extended break the night before.

"Good morning, Jon," she said cheerfully. She had on some of the new clothes Marti had bought her-shorts and a flowered T-s.h.i.+rt. She had taken extra care with her hair and makeup, hoping Rick would come in to see her and that his anger would have evaporated.

"Check out the delivery that came in this morning." Jon motioned toward the back.

Christy found a large wire cage on the floor in the back room holding three adorable c.o.c.ker spaniel puppies. She unlatched the door and reached for the one with the caramel-colored fur. He eagerly tried to lick her face while his flying tail beat the air like a high-speed wire whisk.

"You are the cutest little thing I've ever seen!" she said. "You look exactly like our old dog Taffy."

"You had a c.o.c.ker?" Jon asked.

"When I was a kid. She was the sweetest dog. She used to run between the cows' legs when they were being milked. It's a miracle she never got kicked."

"These three are all males. They have their papers, and they should sell pretty fast. Why don't you get the front window ready for them?"

Christy went to work preparing the front window case for the puppies and scooting them into the display one by one. They drew a crowd right away, and Christy's favorite one sold before noon.

"You take good care of this puppy, okay?" Christy said to the little girl squirming with glee as her dad attached the collar and leash. "I had a puppy just like this when I was your age."

"What did you name him?" the girl asked, with a grin that revealed a gap where her two front teeth had been.

"Taffy, because our dog was this color too, and we thought she looked like taffy."

"Can we name our dog Taffy? Please, Daddy? Could we?"

"Whatever you want, Rachel." The dad smiled his approval. "He's all yours now."

"Come here, Taffy." She patted her open palms on her thighs. "Come here."

The c.o.c.ker jumped up and licked her face before the dad tugged on the leash to get him down.

"He likes me, Daddy!" she squealed. "Taffy likes me. Come on, Taffy."

They made a cute procession-the little girl running ahead, patting her legs, and calling out "Taffy" as the dog scampered toward her, pulling the dad with him.

"Another satisfied customer, I see," Jon said, checking the register's subtotal. "Looks good," he noted, reading the figures. "Why don't you stay on the register until Beverly comes back from lunch, and then it'll be your turn to go."

It seemed the customers came in nonstop. All the business helped Christy keep her mind off Rick.

But during her lunch hour, the loneliness crept back. She went to the mall food court and stood in line to buy a corn dog and lemonade. While she ate, she kept looking around, hoping to see Rick. She saw some girls from school and a family from church, but no Rick.

The rest of the afternoon went by more slowly. When work ended at six, she felt tired and discouraged.

After dinner Mom reminded her it was her turn to do the dishes and fold the laundry. Christy completed her ch.o.r.es silently and with a sour att.i.tude.

Finally, at eight o'clock she had time to herself. She rummaged around in her room for a packet of Victorian Rose bath powder and treated herself to a long, luxurious soak in the tub.

Life is so brutal, she thought, rubbing the animal smells off her tired arms. Men are so strange. In some ways I wish my parents wouldn't have let me date until I turned seventeen. No, eighteen. My life was so much simpler before I could drive and date. It's terrible being allowed to do both at the same age. Only one more week of restriction, and then when Rick and I date again, hopefully things will be okay with us. We can start fresh. Everything can be dating again.

The next week seemed gobbled up by the homework monster. Christy's junior year was definitely going to be harder than her soph.o.m.ore year. Thursday night she stayed up until eleven reading for her literature cla.s.s.

At last she crumpled into bed, thinking, I wish Rick could have called this week-even though I don't know when I would have had the time to talk to him. I miss him so much. I hope he comes to work tomorrow night.

By four o'clock Friday afternoon, the last thing Christy wanted to do was go to work. She felt exhausted and wished she could just take a nap. Having slept too late that morning, she hadn't had time to wash her hair and had pulled it back in a ponytail. Her white embroidered cotton s.h.i.+rt got a stain on it at lunch when she spilled some orange juice down the front. She wished she had time to go home and change.

Few customers came to the pet store, so Jon had Christy work in the back, marking prices on cans of cat food. She didn't mind, since she was able to sit on the floor while she worked. But it concerned her that she was hidden from view and wouldn't be able to spot Rick if he came by.

During her break, she sat out in front of the shop and ate a granola bar from the health food store next door. Rick never showed up.

Am I crazy, sitting around waiting for Rick like this? Katie was right Six months ago, I never would have done this. What changed in me? Whatever it was, I'm not sure I like it. I don't think I've ever felt this lonely or depressed before in my life. I wonder if Rick misses me too, or if he's getting into college life and isn't even thinking about me.

The Sat.u.r.day s.h.i.+ft turned out to be a repeat of the previous Sat.u.r.day-busy all day. Christy consoled herself by thinking that Rick probably hadn't come home from college that weekend since he knew she would still be on restriction. Tomorrow restriction would end, and then everything would change.

Monday afternoon Rick called about five minutes after she walked in the door from school.

"You're off restriction, right?" were his first words.

"Rick!" Christy headed straight for her bedroom and lowered her voice. "I've missed you so much!"

"I can take care of that. Do I have clearance from headquarters to come over?"

"Now? Where are you?"

"About three blocks away. I tried to catch you at school, but I wasn't fast enough."

"Hang on a minute. I'll ask my mom if it's okay." Christy left the phone in her room and approached Mom cautiously. "Rick's on the phone. Would it be all right if he came over? I'm off restriction, and I don't have much homework. Could he even stay for dinner, maybe?"

"I suppose it would be all right. We're having spaghetti for dinner. Nothing fancy. Does he like spaghetti?"

"Rick loves Italian food. Thanks, Mom!" Christy felt as if she were flying as she raced back to her room to retrieve the phone. "Sure, Rick. My mom said that would be fine. And can you stay for dinner?"

"Probably not. I have a seven o'clock cla.s.s tonight, so I'll have to leave by five-thirty to make it back in time. I'll be right over."

"I'll see you in a few minutes." She hung up and raced to her closet. She changed into her favorite pair of shorts and a clean T-s.h.i.+rt. It wasn't her nicest outfit, but it was definitely her most comfortable.

With lightning speed, she did a quick fix on her makeup and hair. Rick, if I'd known you were coming, I would have spent a lot more time on my hair this morning. Look at me! I'm just thrown together. I look awful! Maybe I should change. These shorts are really old.

"Christy," Mom called through the bathroom door, "Rick's here."

"I'll be right there." She decided to go as she was and grabbed some perfume from the basket on the counter, then stopped before giving herself a squirt. It was a new bottle of Midnight Gardenia. She used to wear it around Todd, and he had said it reminded him of Hawaii. No, she definitely could not wear Midnight Gardenia with Rick. Scrounging in the bottom of her makeup bag, she found a tiny sample she had picked up some time ago at the mall. Snapping open the vial, Christy rubbed the heavy, musky fragrance onto her wrists. Phew! What is this stuff? It's not me at all Anxiously trying to dab it off with a tissue, Christy gave up. I don't want to make Rick mad by having him wait too long. I'll have to go like this. My hair is a disaster!

With her heart pounding but a wide smile on her face, Christy made her entrance into the living room. Rick rose from the couch when he saw her and gave one of his I-bet-you're-glad-to-see-me grins.

Did Christy notice a slight twinge of disappointment on his face? Was it because of what she had on? Her hair? She scolded herself for being so paranoid. "Would you like something to drink, Rick?"

"No, actually, I was planning on making a run to 7 Eleven. I already asked your mom, and she said it was fine for us to go as long as I had you back in time for dinner. Shall we?" He offered her his arm and escorted her to the car.

When they pulled into the 7-Eleven parking lot, Christy recognized eight guys out front who were sitting on the hoods of their cars. They were all on the football team and old buddies of Rick's.

Christy felt self-conscious and out of place as the casual introductions were made. The guys all started to joke and talk about things that made no sense to Christy. She was the only girl there.

After about five minutes, Rick pulled some money out of his pocket and turned to Christy. "You want to go buy me a Big Gulp? Cherry c.o.ke."

What else could she do? Christy took the money and stood in line to buy Rick's Cherry c.o.ke. She felt funny about getting anything for herself, so she didn't. For another half hour they stood by the cars out front. Christy said a total of about seven words. Rick's friends treated her as if she were a nameless, personality-less devoted admirer of his. Last year at school she had avoided this group like the flu. Now she was stuck in the middle of them.

"We have to go," Rick suddenly announced, tossing his cup into the trash and making a perfect shot. "Two points," he said. "See you guys around."

"Bye," Christy said meekly and followed Rick to the car.

"How was your week?" Christy asked, anxious to turn the conversation in her direction after being ignored for so long. "How's school going?"

"Good."

"Do you like your cla.s.ses and everything?" she ventured, hoping for a more detailed answer.

Rick turned a corner sharply, causing his wheels to squeal. "You sound like my mother, Christy."

"I'm sorry. I've been thinking about you all week and wondered how you were doing, that's all."

"I've been thinking about you too. That's why I came all the way up here this afternoon. I've missed you."

Turning another corner, Rick stopped by a park and shut off the engine. "Here we are. We're going to do number eight on my date list. Play on the swings at the park."

He jogged around, opened her door, and escorted her to the children's play area.

"Rick, this is crazy!" Christy noticed five or six children on the swings. "We can't take the swings away from those little kids."

"Hey, I'm not going to bully them. We'll wait our turn. Look. The merry-go-round is open. Come on, I'll give you a spin."

Those zany, dazzling feelings were beginning to return to Christy. She jumped on the merry-go-round, held on tight, and teased, "Don't go too fast."

"Don't worry. I'll go really slow. Slow as a snail."

Before he had finished his last word, Rick grabbed the metal bar and took off running a tight circle in the sand.

Christy laughed into the wind. "Not so fast!"

Three kids suddenly appeared. "Let us on!" they cried. "Stop. We want a ride."

Rick obliged, bringing the spinning merry-go-round to a halt. Christy took advantage of the opportunity to hop off while the little kids climbed on. She stepped back a few feet, brus.h.i.+ng her hair out of her face, and admired Rick's playful nature with the screaming kids as he spun them around and around.

That's my boyfriend. Look at him. What a great guy, playing with the kids like that. Why is it I can feel both wonderful and terrible around him in such a short time? Does he have any idea how much control he has over my feelings?

Christy noticed that the swings were now empty. She positioned herself in the middle one, facing Rick. Slowly she swayed back and forth, watching him and listening to the happy sounds emerging from his spinning fan club.

The September afternoon was clear and sunny, still warm but with a soft breeze blowing in from the ocean, which was about fifteen miles west of them. Fall was tiptoeing in on ballet slippers, trying not to disturb the last few days of summer. Even the air already smelled like autumn.

Rick left the merry-go-round and the band of dizzy riders and walked toward Christy. With his hand clutching his chest, he said, "That's my workout for the day."

"You're not done yet," Christy said playfully. "You still have to push me in the swing. Remember? Number eight on your list?"

Rick came around behind her and clutched the two long chains in his strong arms. "Okay, baby. You asked for it!" He drew her back like a human arrow in a bow and let her go.

"Whoa!" she shrieked, holding on and feeling herself take flight.

Rick's push turned gentle when her swing returned to him. He pressed his hands against her back, and Christy stretched her legs out in front of her, pointing her toes toward the blue sky.

She felt silly and carefree. This is how she always imagined it would be to have a boyfriend, and this is how she wanted it to always be with Rick. Feeling happy and having fun like this was so much better than the gloom and depression she had battled all week when she wasn't with him.

"This is so much fun, Rick!" she called over her shoulder. "I haven't been on a swing for ages."

"Neither have I," Rick said, leaving his post and confiscating the vacant swing next to her. "Let's have a race."

They both pushed toward the sky, higher and higher, laughing and shouting like kids. Christy's swing chain began to tug and jerk each time she went up.

She slowed down and said, "Okay, okay, you win."

"As usual," Rick said, slowing to keep pace with her back-to-earth level. "I moved into the apartment with Doug and two other guys."

"Really? How's that working out?" Christy asked as they slowly swung back and forth and caught their breath.

"Okay. Beats the dorms any day. None of us knows how to cook, and we're pretty low on furniture. Other than that, it's fine."

Christy still didn't know how she felt about Rick slipping so easily into Doug's life and taking Todd's place in some ways.

"You haven't told me yet what you've decided," Rick said.

"About what?"

"About work. Have you changed your hours yet?"

Christy swallowed and hoped her answer would satisfy him. "I have to stay on Fridays for at least another month. There's another girl who said she'd work my Sat.u.r.days whenever I wanted, because she needs the extra money. I can't give up too many Sat.u.r.days, though, because I wouldn't be getting paid enough."