"Are you coming or not, Chrissy?" Hillman asked referring to the annual hike through Rock Canyon on the weekend, A clear, late fall weekend in November, "It's supposed to be warm and you should probably relax before finals, any way."
"I'm not sure. I feel so behind in Biology, and there is that voice recital that Connie want's me to sing in." She was trying ever so hard to make excuses as she stood between her living room and kitchen, waiting for the timer on her cookies.
"You are singing in a voice concert?" Everett asked. Everett and Hillman were assigned to be the home teachers of these three friends. Angela and Suzy weren't home from class yet. "I would love to come hear you." He had a genuine smile on his face as he said this and pierced her soul with his eyes.
"Yeah," she said, glancing at the oven as she sat down, "my teacher is having a student recital next Saturday." Chrissy sighed. "I just don't know if I'm ready."
"Come on, Everett," Hillman said dramatically, "you're supposed to be on my side. You know, get her to come hiking."
"I suppose you're right, Hillman," Everett conceded. "it is only a few days from now, you sing for this Connie, when? Saturday?" he asked. "And you are a natural at your Biology." He smiled at her and she nearly didn't hear the timer on the oven through his accent.
"That's right, Chrissy," Hillman chimed in as she stood and went to the kitchen. "You're a natural."
"The recital is Saturday, Everett," Chrissy shouted from the kitchen. "And Hillman Sinclair!"
"Yes, Chrissy MacDallan?" He said in a sing-songy voice.
"Just because biology is a natural part of everyone's lives, doesn't mean it's a natural thing for everyone. Duh!" She emerged from the kitchen with a plate of warm cookies and two glasses of milk. Because everyone knows you can't eat warm cookies without milk to wash them down. "Here." She offered the plate to the two men sitting on her couch, "you'd better take these now, before the bopsy twins get home in five minutes." They accepted the goodies and without pause, began to eat them.
"This canyon sounds beautiful. You should go on the hike." Everett said as he lifted a cookie to his mouth and slightly raised an eyebrow at her. She watched as he took a bite, then nearly fell to pieces laughing when his face rolled in some wierd contortions. "What do you call this kind of cookie?" He asked as he impatiently stuffed the rest into his mouth and reached for another.
"This," interjected Hillman, through a stifled laugh, "is a snicker doodle." He took a bite of his followed by a generous gulp of milk.
"Snicker doodle. Mmm." he said, just as Angela and Suzy walked through the door.
"I told you they'd be here when we got home." She looked at them, locking eyes momentarily with Hillman. "We shouldn't have stopped at the book store." Angela said to Suzy, as she slapped her on the back. "Hillman's always early."
"Yes, yes. I relent." Upon seeing that Chrissy made cookies while they were out, at the book store--so they say, Suzy said, "But it's a good thing Chrissy was home to let them in, and make us some snacks." They continued on inside and sat with the others in the living room. "Can I have a cookie, Chrissy?" She asked, almost over-eagerly as she reached to the plate.
"We were just trying to convince Chrissy to come on the hike on Saturday," Hillman said, as he leaned over and nudged Angela on the shoulder.
"Yea?" Angela asked looking from Hillman to Chrissy, with a hopeful look on her face.
"Good luck with that," Suzy shot back, "we've been trying for almost two weeks to convince her."
"Does she need more encouragement?" Everett asked as everyone ate cookies and tried to hold back their giggles.
"Let me put it this way, " Angela started.
"Angela!"Chrissy said, loudly and firmly.
"Chrissy needs a lot of encouragement," finished Angela with a snort and a guffaw.
Without missing a beat, Suzie followed with, "If'n you catch my drift," she winked at Everett, then narrowly dodged a flying pillow from Chrissy's direction.
Everett smiled. He was catching on to silly American customs quicker than he thought he would. Hillman sat back and smiled at the whole thing.
"I have to practice!" Chrissy insisted.
"Practice what?" Angela and Hillman asked at the same time.
"You people are insufferable!" She smirked as she tried to look angry. "Connie wants me to sing 'Queen of the Night' next week." Her face took a more serious gaze, and she wrinkled her lips and her nose.
Everyone grew silent, instantly. They had all heard her talk about Mozart's "Magic Flute" opera and this "Queen of the Night" aria is listed among one of the most difficult in the world even for some of the most seasoned sopranos.
"So it's not biology. You're not really behind." Hillman said. "I knew it! I knew I would get to the bottom of this sooner or later." He had a deep look of sympathy for Chrissy right now because he knew how she talked about how hard and intimidating this song was. "You used biology as a decoy, didn't you?"
"Sure did," Chrissy said, expelling a gigantic sigh and plunging a cookie into her mouth. Whole.
"Queen of the Night!" Everett exclaimed, "I have heard it performed by Natalie Dessay. And she is very good," he said, breathlessly, "but she even struggles."
"You've seen Dessay? Wow!" Chrissy momentarily looked at Everett in amazement, like a little kid who just saw Santa Claus. She quickly gained back her composure and resumed her explanation. "I have my notes down, even the super-high ones everyone mashes" she paused for dramatic effect. It worked. Everyone leaned in to her next words. "I guess it's all down. It's solid. I'm just not confident yet." She watched her toes draw lines and circles in the carpet. "It's just so intimidating!" Chrissy let out a big sigh.
That was the end of it. Since it was no secret that Chrissy wished she could be Natalie Dessay, with her beautiful blonde hair and silky voice, instead of her wavy hot mess of red hair and what she considered a sub-par amateurs voice, and Everett had actually seen her perform, she was completely sunk.
"From my experience,"Hillman offered, "I've seen you perform many, many times," he continued, "you just have to go for it." He really was trying to be helpful. They had known each other since Hillman had come home from his mission three years ago, right before Chrissy went away as an international student, and had become quick friends.
"You really think so?"
"Yeah." He was quick to add. "I think you should stay home and rest those golden pipes of yours. Don't come hiking. Rest and drink lot's of water." Hillman was thoughtful. He knew how important it was for a singer to stay hydrated, and get lots of rest.
"Yes."Everett nodded in agreement. "Drink a lot of water." As far as he was concerned, the others believed he was being thoughtful no one knew of his occupation back home, except for Chrissy, and he liked to believe he could trust her.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
Chrissy's Biology test
When she stopped her car in front of her mom and dads cottage-style home in Provo, Chrissy saw her mom watching for her out the living room window. She jumped out of her car, bounded to the back seat and grabbed her laundry basked, still laden with a backpack and toiletries bag. She bumped the doors shut with her hip and her dad came out to meet her.
"When we got your message, we thought you'd be here sooner," her dad said. "What's wrong, Pumpkin'," Ian MacDallan asked his little girl as he scooped her into his arms. At 5'11", he pretty much towered over her 5'5" inches. "It's not every day that you come home in the middle of the night." His voice was filled with concern and love for his daughter.
Marylin MacDallan was close on his heals. She grabbed the laundry basket from her and kissed her on the forehead. "What's going on?" She echoed the love in her voice that she and her husband have for their daughter. Marylin's hair was the same shade of red as Chrissy's but cut to her shoulders in an age-appropriate hairstyle for a woman in her mid-fifties.
"It's been a weird night. Can we go in first?" Chrissy asked, trying to fight the fatigue in her voice. "Do you have any hot chocolate?"
Her mother looked at her father and said, "It's going to be a long night, if she's asking for hot cocoa at midnight." They both sighed as they watched their daughter walk into the house. She clicked the auto lock on her car and waited for her mom and dad to follow her with her things.
Chrissy took the laundry basket and walked through the front entry way towards the kitchen in the back of the house, but not before she kicked off her shoes at the door. She made it to the laundry area that flanked the inside wall of the mud room near the garage. She grabbed one load of dirty clothes, stuffed it in the washer and started it as though she had never left home. Chrissy grabbed her backpack and make up bag and headed towards the living room to the left of the kitchen, which really was just an extension of the living area the kitchen provided, and sat between her mother and father on the couch.
"I just talked to Brad." She said with trepidation as she came out of the mud room.
"How is that good man?" Ian asked her daughter.
"Well, enough, I suppose." She started to cry. "Mom, I cleaned my house after the bonfire."
"Oh, honey what's the matter?" Marylin asked her. Her whole family knew that when she was upset about something, Chrissy cleaned.
"Do you remember when I went to Las Vegas with Angela to see that concert about 6 before I went to Germany?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember how I obsessed for weeks over that German singer?"
"You? Obsessed? Really?" Her dad teased. He was great at teasing, and that's what made his relationship with his daughter so great. She could dish it as well as take it.
Chrissy rolled her eyes, "Dad. A little less, oh, I don't know."
"Yes, honey. You're still obsessed."
"Not really, but that's not the point." She didn't know how to bring up the rest to her mom and dad, but they have always said they had an open-door policy when it comes to anything their children wanted to talk about. This was no exception, and for this, reason alone, Chrissy believed she had the best parents in the world. Right now, Chrissy was just embarrassed. "' Hawkeye' is in my ward." Chrissy rested her head on her mothers shoulder and put her feet over her fathers knees as he sat down with his daughters mug of hot cocoa and handed it to her.
"What?" Ian said, stunned.
"Oh, really," Kathryn said. Her eyes, wide in amazement.
"Yes, really," Chrissy said. "He's a member, and to make matters worse, I never let on that I knew who he was until tonight when Hillman twisted my arm into singing something, and Angela twisted my arm about singing something new, and it was one of his songs I was learning, but I didn't know he'd be in my ward when I printed the guitar tabs, and I didn't know he'd be there tonight, and Angela doesn't really remember who he is and certainly didn't know it was one of his, and he was sitting next to me, and..." She just ran with her sentence.
"Oh, honey. Slow down," empathy filled Kathryn's voice.
"To make things worse, he complimented me like I'd never been complimented before and basically, I got embarrassed because I completely butchered a song that no one knew, but the original singer was sitting right next to me and I couldn't stop myself and then I completely embarrassed me and made a fool out of myself."Chrissy leaned into her mother and her father brought her some more hot chocolate. Tonight, it was extra dark. Just like his eyes. If you didn't know him, or he wasn't smiling, you'd always think he was angry, but he wasn't angry. He had the look of love and concern over his little girl and wanted nothing more than for her to feel better, and not wake up with a headache, because crying this late at night causes headaches in the morning.
"How is it embarrassing if he complimented you," Kathryn asked her daughter as she combed her fingers in Chrissy's hair.
"I don't understand what any of this has to do with Brad," Ian said. "What happened with Brad?"
"I went to see Brad afterward, after I cleaned my house and made brownies. I took him some and asked him when he had changed his feelings for me." By now, Chrissy had chosen not to keep her calm, her face was red and the tears weren't stopping now.
"Oh," Said Marylin, shortly. "I don't understand what any of this has to do with that German singer in your ward."
"Everett commented that it was probably the best he's ever heard a cover of anything he's sung before and he doesn't sing like that, ever. Then he touched my arm, and I felt something that I haven't felt with Brad for months. Basically, Bradley Wayne Johansen has been lying to me and himself about how he feels for months." Her mother was holding her gently now and her father had brought back the cocoa for her and set it on the coffee table. He sat down next to her again and picked up her feet and started rubbing them.
"Oh," Ian said, "Brad is a liar now, is he?"
"Yes Dad! He's a liar," Chrissy blubbered. "He lied to himself that he thought he could work through this funk he's gotten himself into." Chrissy grabbed some tissue from the box on the coffee table. "He said he wanted to break it off gradually so I wouldn't get hurt. That he couldn't lie to himself any more, so I said, 'so it's okay to lie to me about it?' I just don't like being lied to."
"Gradually, huh?" Ian acknowledged .
"Dad, don't be mad at him. I already made him feel pretty bad."
"I'll bet you did, kiddo," Kathryn said. "What did you do?"
"Nothing. I just said that I forgave him and left."
"Oh," said Kathryn. "That's pretty heavy."
Chrissy sat on the couch with her parents until 12:30, when her dad said, "Well, Chrissy, I'm glad you're home."
"Thanks Dad."
"Do you want to sleep in your room tonight?" Kathryn said.
"No, it's a couch kind of night. I have a test in the morning and then I have to go to the music store and work. No bank tomorrow. It's my week off from that place."
"Well, Pumpkin'," Ian said to her, "if there's anything you need, let us know." He stood and kissed his daughter on the forehead and went to bed.
"I will, Dad." she said as she rose to change her laundry to the dryer and start the next load. She walked to the adjoining bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. As she pulled the blanket over her from the back of the couch, she drifted into a heavy sleep. One that was dreamless, yet subduing. She began to feel truly rested.
It was six-thirty in the morning when Chrissy woke up. Without thinking about it too hard, she filed herself into the laundry room and found both loads of her laundry had been folded and her mom was in the kitchen making orange juice. She grabbed some clean clothes from the pile and changed in the adjoining bath room and got ready for the day. Since she had to work at the music store after her test this morning, she picked something a little nicer than her yoga pants and her hoodie. She had to look semi-casual for a Saturday morning at the Piano Gallery.
"I thought you had enough to worry about last night," Kathryn said. "Don't worry, I hung up your sweater so it won't shrink."
"Thanks Mom," Chrissy smiled at her mother and kissed her on the cheek, "you're the greatest." And Chrissy meant it.
"So, now tell me," Kathryn said. "What is this test of yours?"
"Bio-informatics and Molecular Evolution." Chrissy smiled a sly one".
"Sounds interesting." she said, as she raised her eyebrows, and a cup of orange juice to her lips. "Are you ready for it? I mean after last night?"
"Yes, mom. I think I'm ready for this one."
"Well, I for one don't understand why you couldn't pick a normal major, like computer engineering, or something."
"You don't have to understand it Mom, just know that I like it." Chrissy found a bagel and toasted it.
"I'm glad you do." She kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Good luck."
"Thanks. No one has any idea how hard this one is going to be. Not even Hillman thinks he knows, and he's the smartest in class."
"Hillman has nothing on you, dear."Kathryn liked to hear about Chrissy's friends, but she found Hillman Sinclair to be sort of...annoying.
"I know you don't like him, Mom, but he's smart and he helped me pass lab last semester". She kissed her mom on her way out the door, but not before she grabbed a cup of juice and her backpack and purse.
"It's not that I don't like him," Kathryn said carefully. "Hillman is kooky. He's just a little young at heart, that's all."
By the time she got to the testing center, it was already 7:45. She gave her I.D. to the attendant and they took her purse and backpack and left her with a number two pencil and a calculator. When she walked into the testing room, she immediately picked out Hillman. It was easy since he was the tallest, even sitting down. He had probably been there for an hour already. When she sat, she found herself facing a 150-question test.
"Ugh," she said quietly to herself. Hillman must have heard her, because he looked up at her and through a roll of his eyes, he smiled and stealthily gave her a "thumbs up" . "That's a good sign," she thought. Chrissy looked closer and what she thought was 150 questions of pure misery was really just everything she had been studying for the last two weeks. She knew this stuff. Completely. There was no question in her mind that she knew what was staring her back from the paper. Her involuntary body functions took over now and she was more than half-way finished by the time Hillman got up and hurriedly left. She smiled at him and raised her right eyebrow as he smiled back, again, thumbs-upping her. Chrissy leaned back in her chair, rolled her neck, stretched out her arms and took a couple of deep yoga breaths to get her focus again. The next 15 minutes were a blur. Her auto-pilot took over and she really had little recollection of what the events which transpired next.
She didn't have ignore flowers and balloons walking past the window. She didn't even see them, but by the time they went by a third time, when she had finished her test, handed it in and retrieved her belongings, the testing center attendant said, "Can you believe someone spent all that money on flowers?" One of the attendants said, looking out the window.
"Yeah," said the other attendant. "Whomever did that must really be in the doghouse." Chrissy tried not to pay attention as she walked out of the testing center.
Then she saw him. Bradley Wayne Johansen.
"What are you doing here. Brad?" She nearly hissed as she pulled her backpack onto her back. By now, Chrissy sounded really peeved. All she could think about was her test, to try to evaluate how she did. What she really wanted to do was talk to Hillman about it. To see how he thought he did, and to compare notes. But now she couldn't. Now she could afford to get all emotional. Again. But she wouldn't let it happen. She had to be the strong one, and not cry in front of Brad.
"I want to apologize for last night." Brad said with a touch of remorse in his voice. "What I did was unacceptable and uncalled for. I'm sorry."
"It's not just last night, Brad. At least three months." Chrissy had an air of annoyance in her voice, "anyway, how did you know to find me here, and more importantly, It's only nine-twenty in the morning. Where did you get all this at this hour?" She asked pointing to the gifts he was trying to proffer to her. "No one is open yet."
"I called your apartment. Your roommates told me to find you here. Since I know you like to get your tests out of the way, I thought 9 in the morning would be a good time to start, so I went to the photo counter at the grocery store." Brad had a hopeful look on his face. "I was wondering if we could go get breakfast," his voice sounded soft. like he was trying to court her. He was still wearing the clothes he wore to work last night, which told Chrissy that he hadn't been home yet. She was annoyed.
Chrissy smiled, even though she was annoyed. "Brad," shook her head and matter-of-factually stated, "I'll have breakfast with you, but I will not take you back."
"So," he hesitated, and looked around him. "It's really over then?"
"Yes, Bradley." Chrissy said as she clung to the straps of her back pack and leaned on one foot. "It's really over. You said last night that you lied to me for three months. You basically admitted that you were the source of my hurt. I don't need to keep that kind of thing around. I really don't need that." Chrissy shook her head as she stretched out the word need. "I'm not going to make myself wonder on a daily basis like that."
Brad looked stunned. As if his best friend ran in front of a semi truck. Figuratively , he had pushed her there. He gazed around the hallway at the students who were passing by, "Can we be friends at least?"
"You're very noble, Brad." She paused." Possibly." She wanted to give him a hug, but instead said,"If we're going to have breakfast, I need to do it right now. I have to go to work."
"When we got your message, we thought you'd be here sooner," her dad said. "What's wrong, Pumpkin'," Ian MacDallan asked his little girl as he scooped her into his arms. At 5'11", he pretty much towered over her 5'5" inches. "It's not every day that you come home in the middle of the night." His voice was filled with concern and love for his daughter.
Marylin MacDallan was close on his heals. She grabbed the laundry basket from her and kissed her on the forehead. "What's going on?" She echoed the love in her voice that she and her husband have for their daughter. Marylin's hair was the same shade of red as Chrissy's but cut to her shoulders in an age-appropriate hairstyle for a woman in her mid-fifties.
"It's been a weird night. Can we go in first?" Chrissy asked, trying to fight the fatigue in her voice. "Do you have any hot chocolate?"
Her mother looked at her father and said, "It's going to be a long night, if she's asking for hot cocoa at midnight." They both sighed as they watched their daughter walk into the house. She clicked the auto lock on her car and waited for her mom and dad to follow her with her things.
Chrissy took the laundry basket and walked through the front entry way towards the kitchen in the back of the house, but not before she kicked off her shoes at the door. She made it to the laundry area that flanked the inside wall of the mud room near the garage. She grabbed one load of dirty clothes, stuffed it in the washer and started it as though she had never left home. Chrissy grabbed her backpack and make up bag and headed towards the living room to the left of the kitchen, which really was just an extension of the living area the kitchen provided, and sat between her mother and father on the couch.
"I just talked to Brad." She said with trepidation as she came out of the mud room.
"How is that good man?" Ian asked her daughter.
"Well, enough, I suppose." She started to cry. "Mom, I cleaned my house after the bonfire."
"Oh, honey what's the matter?" Marylin asked her. Her whole family knew that when she was upset about something, Chrissy cleaned.
"Do you remember when I went to Las Vegas with Angela to see that concert about 6 before I went to Germany?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember how I obsessed for weeks over that German singer?"
"You? Obsessed? Really?" Her dad teased. He was great at teasing, and that's what made his relationship with his daughter so great. She could dish it as well as take it.
Chrissy rolled her eyes, "Dad. A little less, oh, I don't know."
"Yes, honey. You're still obsessed."
"Not really, but that's not the point." She didn't know how to bring up the rest to her mom and dad, but they have always said they had an open-door policy when it comes to anything their children wanted to talk about. This was no exception, and for this, reason alone, Chrissy believed she had the best parents in the world. Right now, Chrissy was just embarrassed. "' Hawkeye' is in my ward." Chrissy rested her head on her mothers shoulder and put her feet over her fathers knees as he sat down with his daughters mug of hot cocoa and handed it to her.
"What?" Ian said, stunned.
"Oh, really," Kathryn said. Her eyes, wide in amazement.
"Yes, really," Chrissy said. "He's a member, and to make matters worse, I never let on that I knew who he was until tonight when Hillman twisted my arm into singing something, and Angela twisted my arm about singing something new, and it was one of his songs I was learning, but I didn't know he'd be in my ward when I printed the guitar tabs, and I didn't know he'd be there tonight, and Angela doesn't really remember who he is and certainly didn't know it was one of his, and he was sitting next to me, and..." She just ran with her sentence.
"Oh, honey. Slow down," empathy filled Kathryn's voice.
"To make things worse, he complimented me like I'd never been complimented before and basically, I got embarrassed because I completely butchered a song that no one knew, but the original singer was sitting right next to me and I couldn't stop myself and then I completely embarrassed me and made a fool out of myself."Chrissy leaned into her mother and her father brought her some more hot chocolate. Tonight, it was extra dark. Just like his eyes. If you didn't know him, or he wasn't smiling, you'd always think he was angry, but he wasn't angry. He had the look of love and concern over his little girl and wanted nothing more than for her to feel better, and not wake up with a headache, because crying this late at night causes headaches in the morning.
"How is it embarrassing if he complimented you," Kathryn asked her daughter as she combed her fingers in Chrissy's hair.
"I don't understand what any of this has to do with Brad," Ian said. "What happened with Brad?"
"I went to see Brad afterward, after I cleaned my house and made brownies. I took him some and asked him when he had changed his feelings for me." By now, Chrissy had chosen not to keep her calm, her face was red and the tears weren't stopping now.
"Oh," Said Marylin, shortly. "I don't understand what any of this has to do with that German singer in your ward."
"Everett commented that it was probably the best he's ever heard a cover of anything he's sung before and he doesn't sing like that, ever. Then he touched my arm, and I felt something that I haven't felt with Brad for months. Basically, Bradley Wayne Johansen has been lying to me and himself about how he feels for months." Her mother was holding her gently now and her father had brought back the cocoa for her and set it on the coffee table. He sat down next to her again and picked up her feet and started rubbing them.
"Oh," Ian said, "Brad is a liar now, is he?"
"Yes Dad! He's a liar," Chrissy blubbered. "He lied to himself that he thought he could work through this funk he's gotten himself into." Chrissy grabbed some tissue from the box on the coffee table. "He said he wanted to break it off gradually so I wouldn't get hurt. That he couldn't lie to himself any more, so I said, 'so it's okay to lie to me about it?' I just don't like being lied to."
"Gradually, huh?" Ian acknowledged .
"Dad, don't be mad at him. I already made him feel pretty bad."
"I'll bet you did, kiddo," Kathryn said. "What did you do?"
"Nothing. I just said that I forgave him and left."
"Oh," said Kathryn. "That's pretty heavy."
Chrissy sat on the couch with her parents until 12:30, when her dad said, "Well, Chrissy, I'm glad you're home."
"Thanks Dad."
"Do you want to sleep in your room tonight?" Kathryn said.
"No, it's a couch kind of night. I have a test in the morning and then I have to go to the music store and work. No bank tomorrow. It's my week off from that place."
"Well, Pumpkin'," Ian said to her, "if there's anything you need, let us know." He stood and kissed his daughter on the forehead and went to bed.
"I will, Dad." she said as she rose to change her laundry to the dryer and start the next load. She walked to the adjoining bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. As she pulled the blanket over her from the back of the couch, she drifted into a heavy sleep. One that was dreamless, yet subduing. She began to feel truly rested.
It was six-thirty in the morning when Chrissy woke up. Without thinking about it too hard, she filed herself into the laundry room and found both loads of her laundry had been folded and her mom was in the kitchen making orange juice. She grabbed some clean clothes from the pile and changed in the adjoining bath room and got ready for the day. Since she had to work at the music store after her test this morning, she picked something a little nicer than her yoga pants and her hoodie. She had to look semi-casual for a Saturday morning at the Piano Gallery.
"I thought you had enough to worry about last night," Kathryn said. "Don't worry, I hung up your sweater so it won't shrink."
"Thanks Mom," Chrissy smiled at her mother and kissed her on the cheek, "you're the greatest." And Chrissy meant it.
"So, now tell me," Kathryn said. "What is this test of yours?"
"Bio-informatics and Molecular Evolution." Chrissy smiled a sly one".
"Sounds interesting." she said, as she raised her eyebrows, and a cup of orange juice to her lips. "Are you ready for it? I mean after last night?"
"Yes, mom. I think I'm ready for this one."
"Well, I for one don't understand why you couldn't pick a normal major, like computer engineering, or something."
"You don't have to understand it Mom, just know that I like it." Chrissy found a bagel and toasted it.
"I'm glad you do." She kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Good luck."
"Thanks. No one has any idea how hard this one is going to be. Not even Hillman thinks he knows, and he's the smartest in class."
"Hillman has nothing on you, dear."Kathryn liked to hear about Chrissy's friends, but she found Hillman Sinclair to be sort of...annoying.
"I know you don't like him, Mom, but he's smart and he helped me pass lab last semester". She kissed her mom on her way out the door, but not before she grabbed a cup of juice and her backpack and purse.
"It's not that I don't like him," Kathryn said carefully. "Hillman is kooky. He's just a little young at heart, that's all."
By the time she got to the testing center, it was already 7:45. She gave her I.D. to the attendant and they took her purse and backpack and left her with a number two pencil and a calculator. When she walked into the testing room, she immediately picked out Hillman. It was easy since he was the tallest, even sitting down. He had probably been there for an hour already. When she sat, she found herself facing a 150-question test.
"Ugh," she said quietly to herself. Hillman must have heard her, because he looked up at her and through a roll of his eyes, he smiled and stealthily gave her a "thumbs up" . "That's a good sign," she thought. Chrissy looked closer and what she thought was 150 questions of pure misery was really just everything she had been studying for the last two weeks. She knew this stuff. Completely. There was no question in her mind that she knew what was staring her back from the paper. Her involuntary body functions took over now and she was more than half-way finished by the time Hillman got up and hurriedly left. She smiled at him and raised her right eyebrow as he smiled back, again, thumbs-upping her. Chrissy leaned back in her chair, rolled her neck, stretched out her arms and took a couple of deep yoga breaths to get her focus again. The next 15 minutes were a blur. Her auto-pilot took over and she really had little recollection of what the events which transpired next.
She didn't have ignore flowers and balloons walking past the window. She didn't even see them, but by the time they went by a third time, when she had finished her test, handed it in and retrieved her belongings, the testing center attendant said, "Can you believe someone spent all that money on flowers?" One of the attendants said, looking out the window.
"Yeah," said the other attendant. "Whomever did that must really be in the doghouse." Chrissy tried not to pay attention as she walked out of the testing center.
Then she saw him. Bradley Wayne Johansen.
"What are you doing here. Brad?" She nearly hissed as she pulled her backpack onto her back. By now, Chrissy sounded really peeved. All she could think about was her test, to try to evaluate how she did. What she really wanted to do was talk to Hillman about it. To see how he thought he did, and to compare notes. But now she couldn't. Now she could afford to get all emotional. Again. But she wouldn't let it happen. She had to be the strong one, and not cry in front of Brad.
"I want to apologize for last night." Brad said with a touch of remorse in his voice. "What I did was unacceptable and uncalled for. I'm sorry."
"It's not just last night, Brad. At least three months." Chrissy had an air of annoyance in her voice, "anyway, how did you know to find me here, and more importantly, It's only nine-twenty in the morning. Where did you get all this at this hour?" She asked pointing to the gifts he was trying to proffer to her. "No one is open yet."
"I called your apartment. Your roommates told me to find you here. Since I know you like to get your tests out of the way, I thought 9 in the morning would be a good time to start, so I went to the photo counter at the grocery store." Brad had a hopeful look on his face. "I was wondering if we could go get breakfast," his voice sounded soft. like he was trying to court her. He was still wearing the clothes he wore to work last night, which told Chrissy that he hadn't been home yet. She was annoyed.
Chrissy smiled, even though she was annoyed. "Brad," shook her head and matter-of-factually stated, "I'll have breakfast with you, but I will not take you back."
"So," he hesitated, and looked around him. "It's really over then?"
"Yes, Bradley." Chrissy said as she clung to the straps of her back pack and leaned on one foot. "It's really over. You said last night that you lied to me for three months. You basically admitted that you were the source of my hurt. I don't need to keep that kind of thing around. I really don't need that." Chrissy shook her head as she stretched out the word need. "I'm not going to make myself wonder on a daily basis like that."
Brad looked stunned. As if his best friend ran in front of a semi truck. Figuratively , he had pushed her there. He gazed around the hallway at the students who were passing by, "Can we be friends at least?"
"You're very noble, Brad." She paused." Possibly." She wanted to give him a hug, but instead said,"If we're going to have breakfast, I need to do it right now. I have to go to work."
After the Cookout. The Roommates.
The house was completely dark when Angela and Suzy got home.
"That's odd," Angela said. "Chrissy has a test tomorrow and she usually stays up late to review everything." She noted the dark windows from the exterior of their basement apartment. "I wonder where her car is. This can't be good."
Suzy got out of the car and bounced up the side walk. She opened the door and immediately smelled chocolate. "Maybe it 's not good for Chrissy, but it's certainly good for us." She said as she turned the lights on. She came from the kitchen with the note, just as Angela came through the door. "Look, she left us some treats!"
"Mmmm. Brownies. But why would she go home this late?" Angela asked after she read the note:
Gone to my mom and dads.
Pleas eat the rest of these.
I'll be back Monday after classes.
Thanks. Chrissy.
"It's not like she's gone to Idaho. Her parents only live in Provo, remember." Maybe she wanted someone to bounce off her ideas and quiz her and didn't want to wait for us to get home."
"O think it's worse than that." Angela said as she looked through the kitchen door to the living room. "She cleaned the house."
"Uh-oh."
The only reason Chrissy cleaned the whole house was if something was terribly wrong. That's how she thought through her troubles. Her friends started to worry, but no matter how much they tried to call, Chrissy never picked up her phone. She had left it in her car.
"It's not like Chrissy to not answer her phone. " Angela said to Suzy.
"Yeah, but maybe she turned it off, or it ran out of battery."
"You really think so? I mean, it didn't go straight to voice mail. It rang first. And she's not answering any texts." Angela said.
"Maybe she's studying." She doesn't answer when she's studying.
"That's odd," Angela said. "Chrissy has a test tomorrow and she usually stays up late to review everything." She noted the dark windows from the exterior of their basement apartment. "I wonder where her car is. This can't be good."
Suzy got out of the car and bounced up the side walk. She opened the door and immediately smelled chocolate. "Maybe it 's not good for Chrissy, but it's certainly good for us." She said as she turned the lights on. She came from the kitchen with the note, just as Angela came through the door. "Look, she left us some treats!"
"Mmmm. Brownies. But why would she go home this late?" Angela asked after she read the note:
Gone to my mom and dads.
Pleas eat the rest of these.
I'll be back Monday after classes.
Thanks. Chrissy.
"It's not like she's gone to Idaho. Her parents only live in Provo, remember." Maybe she wanted someone to bounce off her ideas and quiz her and didn't want to wait for us to get home."
"O think it's worse than that." Angela said as she looked through the kitchen door to the living room. "She cleaned the house."
"Uh-oh."
The only reason Chrissy cleaned the whole house was if something was terribly wrong. That's how she thought through her troubles. Her friends started to worry, but no matter how much they tried to call, Chrissy never picked up her phone. She had left it in her car.
"It's not like Chrissy to not answer her phone. " Angela said to Suzy.
"Yeah, but maybe she turned it off, or it ran out of battery."
"You really think so? I mean, it didn't go straight to voice mail. It rang first. And she's not answering any texts." Angela said.
"Maybe she's studying." She doesn't answer when she's studying.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Reveal: Part 2
~~~~~
Chrissy turned on her car radio and tuned it to her local classical station. The classics always helped her calm down. As she drove home, she stopped at the grocery store and picked up some Castelvetrano olives. In her opinion, the best of the best. She usually only ate those when she had a lot of hard thinking to do. When she pulled up to her house, she was relieved to know only the upstairs neighbors, who were a cute, older couple who's children were all grown, were home. Her roommates were still, thankfully, out. She reached over to the passenger seat and gripped the olives, grabbed her purse, and got out of her car. While she walked down the sidewalk to her door, she clicked the auto-lock to her car then carefully unlocked her front door.
After she turned on the light to the living room, she opened her olives, drained them in the sink, grabbed a dish out of the cupboard and dumped them in. To her credit, she didn't have mind enough to take them with her and left them on the kitchen counter, next to the empty jar. As she did that, Chrissy decided to make brownies. She grabbed a box mix, because she was to tired to think about how much better scratch brownies are better than box brownies. Hastily, she poured them from the bowl into the pan after she mixed them up and put them straight into the oven. Sure, it was hot enough. She headed to her bedroom instead, to grab some clean clothes and a towel so she could take a shower and get rid of the campfire smell. It was only 9:30 in the evening.
Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, not having thought anything through yet, really, but trying to numb her thoughts. With this lack of development, Chrissy decided it was time to catch up on her laundry. She gathered what little dirty clothing she had, sorted them and decided two loads was sufficient. Darks and whites. Before she could load the washer, she decided a visit to her mom and dads house this weekend would be in order so she stuffed the clothes back into her basket and brought them out to the living room and put them by the front door.
At least she was clean and her hair didn't smell like smoke any more. Smoke. Campfire. Guitar. Hillman sang. Hillman had talked her into singing, and she did the dumbest thing ever and sang some famous persons song right in front of him. Boy did she feel stupid. But what happened afterward was even more weird. He hit on her. At least she thought that's what happened. Then it got even weirder. She thought about Brad and how he had been acting these last few months. How non complaisant he had been. While she was thinking about that, she moved to the kitchen and put the dishes away. Brad just had to be busy, thought Chrissy. She wiped down the counters and table. He just had to be. There was no reason he wouldn't talk to her about any changes in his life. He loved her. They had been talking about marriage. Between the two of them.
When she noticed there were only about ten minutes left on baking time, she gathered her backpack, laundry and make up and set them by the door. She made sure to grab two pairs of shoes, a pair of pumps and her favorite sneakers. Chrissy grabbed the vacuum out of the closet and cleaned up the hall carpet and living room. Why didn't she have the same feelings when Brad touched her as when Phillipe did tonight? At this hour, she hoped her upstairs neighbors wouldn't get mad at her for vacuuming. It was kind of a noisy vacuum, but she made it quick. The timer buzzed on the oven. The brownies were done. She wrapped up the chord quickly and put the vacuum away. Chrissy removed the brownies out of the oven and turned it off. Hastily, while she waited for them to cool, she cleaned up her wet mess in the bathroom, dusted and picked up the living room, then made her way back to the kitchen to clean up her dishes. Chrissy took out a knife from the utensil drawer, found a paper-plate and cut half the pan of brownies onto it. She quickly scribbled a note to her roommates.
Chrissy finished gathering her things up, namely her phone and charger and stuffed them into her backpack. Everything was resting in her laundry basket and she grabbed her keys out of her purse. Laundry, check. Backpack, check. Toiletries, check. Phone, check. All she needed was the plate of brownies from the kitchen and some clean clothes for church. She grabbed those too and rested them on top of the laundry, balanced the basket on her hip as she turned out the lights and locked the door behind her.
When she got to her car and threw everything into the back seat but the brownies, which she placed on the passenger seat, Chrissy grabbed her phone to call her parents. The phone at their home rang five times before she left a message, "I'm coming home for the weekend. I'll be there soon," was all she said after she identified herself. She tried to make her voice sound in-involved. . .after all, she had been thinking about the last five months of her life with Brad, and the last two months she had known Everett, and how odd she had been feeling over the last three or four hours. She called her dads cell and it tripped to voice male right away, so Chrissy left the same message as she started her car and began to drive, then tossed the phone in the back, landing in the laundry basket.
Chrissy didn't immediately make the 10 minute drive to her parents house, but instead, went to Brads workplace. The Cotton Tree Inn. When she parked her car, she turned the key to off and sat for a minute. She offered a little prayer that she could be calm and not a nervous wreck, because things like she was about to do had a tendency to go horribly wrong and turn awfully ugly. Neither of which she wanted to do.
Without thinking about it much more, she knew how things would turn out. She flicked her still damp hair behind her and picked up the plate of brownies. They were still warm. She got out of her car, carefully locked it and walked into the hotel lobby. She wished she'd have worn something else besides her yoga pants and a ratty old hoodie, but it was too late for that. She had made her resolve and that was one of the things Brad had said he found endearing in her. She didn't let circumstance dictate her fashion tonight. She had always been beautiful to Brad.
The bells of the door caught his attention for the fourth time tonight. Brad looked up from his computer screen, "Chrissy," he exclaimed! "I thought yow were at the cookout." He smiled warmly and cam around the desk to give her a hug and a kiss. . .on the forehead.
Chrissy forced a smile. Why did he have to be so good looking. He was wearing a tan oxford shirt with a silver tie. He bought that tie when she wouldn't relent on a date some time ago. He was still wearing it. That was a good sign. "Hi Brad," she said. "I brought you some brownies." She put them down on the counter. This wasn't a busy night at all. She'd been there before when guest after guest kept showing up or there had been a line to check in. Tonight, there had only been three check-ins since nine o'clock.
"And they've all been reservations. Let's go sit down," he said as he picked up the plate of goodies and let Chrissy to the continental breakfast area. She noticed that the microwaves had been moved and the coffee makers were in a different place too. Brad asked as they sat at a table close to the front desk, "Why did you come so late? I thought you had a test in the morning?"
"I do." She said. "I just wanted to see you, that's all." She smiled and shrugged her shoulders as she looked around.
Chrissy pushed the goodies over to Brad and he took a bite of one. "Box brownies," he said. "You must have been tired. You usually make them from scratch."
She notice that he paid close attention to the way he chose his words. More selectively than usual. "Brad, I was wondering, "she started.
"What?"
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and sighed, and counted in her head really fast, one,two,three, "when were you going to tell me your feelings changed?"
He stopped, mid bite. She could only assume so he could formulate his words more carefully, because as he stopped, he looked into her eyes. Just as he took a big breath, the bells of the front door rang and he sighed a big sigh of relief, got out of his chair and went to check in the person waiting at the counter. It only took two minutes. Not long enough to him. He walked back, trying not to act suspicious, but knowing he failed anyway. Anxiously, he sat.
"Um, well," he paused, hoping to be saved by the bell again, but it didn't happen. "I promised Jake I'd watch out for you." He almost sounded like he was trying to defend himself in an argument.
"Sure. No need to be cranky about it. I only asked a question, but when did your feelings change?" Chrissy asked, her voice sounding more urgent now.
"I can't pinpoint it," he started.
"When?" Chrissy pressed again. "Two weeks ago? A month, Two months?" She was trying to keep control, but her voice obviously was getting frustrated. She like to think the man she was so taken with was honest with her, but now, she could see differently.
There was nothing Brad hated more about Chrissy than to see her get hurt, and now, he was the cause of her hurt. He had been her protector, her champion, her friend. He couldn't say anything. Plenty was going through his head, but he just couldn't say it.
"And furthermore, Bradley Wayne Johansen, when were you going to tell me? Don't you owe it to yourself to be honest with your fellow human beings? You're an Eagle Scout. I'm not, but I do know that a scout is honest. Be honest with yourself, let alone me." She felt two tears come out of her eyes and pool in the rims, and surprisingly, she was able to keep her voice cool and collected.
Brad was breathing deeper now and looking past her out the window. Chrissy wasn't crying as much as he would have expected her to when he would have gotten around to telling her he no longer loved her. She was merely sitting calmly, with her hands in her lap. Even though her eyes were nearly closed from exhaustion, he noticed she was amazingly calm. It was almost eerie, he thought. And unnerving.
"About three months ago." He looked into her eyes, then looked at the plate of brownies, trying not to notice how beautiful she was with damp, wavy hair. Her red hair shined in the light. He always did have weakness for a gorgeous red-head. But for some reason or another, he failed to identify why he held no interest in her any more. Actually, there was no reason. No other woman. He simply didn't love her any more.
"Three. . .Oh." She raised her eyebrows and looked down to her lap. "and you thought it was a good idea to lead me on?" Chrissy maintained perfect control throughout the dialogue they were sharing.
Brad could have done a better job though. "I couldn't lie to myself about how I felt any more."
"So you thought it was a good idea to lie to me? The person whom you were supposedly in a relationship with? The one who you've been talking about getting married with?"
"Oh," was all he could say. Objection came over his face. "Listen Chrissy," He started. "I thought if I cut things off gradually--"
"You'd what, Brad?" She let annoyance fill every syllable, but never raised her voice. It nearly made him sick to see all the control she displayed. He knew she was really hurt but the next thing she said stung. "It's too little, too late." She said as she wrinkled her nose and looked straight into his eyes. Another tear fell from her eye.
They were making direct eye contact now. Chrissy seemed to be relaxed, despite the threatening water works, her hands in the pocket of her hoodie , head slightly tilted to the side. Brad was leaning on his elbows on the table, trying to plead with her for forgiveness without saying anything.
Chrissy picked up on this rather quickly. "Usually Brad, to get forgiveness, one usually has to say 'sorry' first, but I forgive you." Chrissy hesitated for a few moments and then asked, "why?"
"I don't have an answer."
"So you figured it was okay to lie to me instead." Chrissy said. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Brad just looked into the air with no focus. He had no answer.
"Good bye, Bradly Johansen." Chrissy said as she stood up, "I'll see you around." She pulled her keys out of her pocket, turned and left the building, not looking back, and he let her go.
Chrissy turned on her car radio and tuned it to her local classical station. The classics always helped her calm down. As she drove home, she stopped at the grocery store and picked up some Castelvetrano olives. In her opinion, the best of the best. She usually only ate those when she had a lot of hard thinking to do. When she pulled up to her house, she was relieved to know only the upstairs neighbors, who were a cute, older couple who's children were all grown, were home. Her roommates were still, thankfully, out. She reached over to the passenger seat and gripped the olives, grabbed her purse, and got out of her car. While she walked down the sidewalk to her door, she clicked the auto-lock to her car then carefully unlocked her front door.
After she turned on the light to the living room, she opened her olives, drained them in the sink, grabbed a dish out of the cupboard and dumped them in. To her credit, she didn't have mind enough to take them with her and left them on the kitchen counter, next to the empty jar. As she did that, Chrissy decided to make brownies. She grabbed a box mix, because she was to tired to think about how much better scratch brownies are better than box brownies. Hastily, she poured them from the bowl into the pan after she mixed them up and put them straight into the oven. Sure, it was hot enough. She headed to her bedroom instead, to grab some clean clothes and a towel so she could take a shower and get rid of the campfire smell. It was only 9:30 in the evening.
Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, not having thought anything through yet, really, but trying to numb her thoughts. With this lack of development, Chrissy decided it was time to catch up on her laundry. She gathered what little dirty clothing she had, sorted them and decided two loads was sufficient. Darks and whites. Before she could load the washer, she decided a visit to her mom and dads house this weekend would be in order so she stuffed the clothes back into her basket and brought them out to the living room and put them by the front door.
At least she was clean and her hair didn't smell like smoke any more. Smoke. Campfire. Guitar. Hillman sang. Hillman had talked her into singing, and she did the dumbest thing ever and sang some famous persons song right in front of him. Boy did she feel stupid. But what happened afterward was even more weird. He hit on her. At least she thought that's what happened. Then it got even weirder. She thought about Brad and how he had been acting these last few months. How non complaisant he had been. While she was thinking about that, she moved to the kitchen and put the dishes away. Brad just had to be busy, thought Chrissy. She wiped down the counters and table. He just had to be. There was no reason he wouldn't talk to her about any changes in his life. He loved her. They had been talking about marriage. Between the two of them.
When she noticed there were only about ten minutes left on baking time, she gathered her backpack, laundry and make up and set them by the door. She made sure to grab two pairs of shoes, a pair of pumps and her favorite sneakers. Chrissy grabbed the vacuum out of the closet and cleaned up the hall carpet and living room. Why didn't she have the same feelings when Brad touched her as when Phillipe did tonight? At this hour, she hoped her upstairs neighbors wouldn't get mad at her for vacuuming. It was kind of a noisy vacuum, but she made it quick. The timer buzzed on the oven. The brownies were done. She wrapped up the chord quickly and put the vacuum away. Chrissy removed the brownies out of the oven and turned it off. Hastily, while she waited for them to cool, she cleaned up her wet mess in the bathroom, dusted and picked up the living room, then made her way back to the kitchen to clean up her dishes. Chrissy took out a knife from the utensil drawer, found a paper-plate and cut half the pan of brownies onto it. She quickly scribbled a note to her roommates.
Chrissy finished gathering her things up, namely her phone and charger and stuffed them into her backpack. Everything was resting in her laundry basket and she grabbed her keys out of her purse. Laundry, check. Backpack, check. Toiletries, check. Phone, check. All she needed was the plate of brownies from the kitchen and some clean clothes for church. She grabbed those too and rested them on top of the laundry, balanced the basket on her hip as she turned out the lights and locked the door behind her.
When she got to her car and threw everything into the back seat but the brownies, which she placed on the passenger seat, Chrissy grabbed her phone to call her parents. The phone at their home rang five times before she left a message, "I'm coming home for the weekend. I'll be there soon," was all she said after she identified herself. She tried to make her voice sound in-involved. . .after all, she had been thinking about the last five months of her life with Brad, and the last two months she had known Everett, and how odd she had been feeling over the last three or four hours. She called her dads cell and it tripped to voice male right away, so Chrissy left the same message as she started her car and began to drive, then tossed the phone in the back, landing in the laundry basket.
Chrissy didn't immediately make the 10 minute drive to her parents house, but instead, went to Brads workplace. The Cotton Tree Inn. When she parked her car, she turned the key to off and sat for a minute. She offered a little prayer that she could be calm and not a nervous wreck, because things like she was about to do had a tendency to go horribly wrong and turn awfully ugly. Neither of which she wanted to do.
Without thinking about it much more, she knew how things would turn out. She flicked her still damp hair behind her and picked up the plate of brownies. They were still warm. She got out of her car, carefully locked it and walked into the hotel lobby. She wished she'd have worn something else besides her yoga pants and a ratty old hoodie, but it was too late for that. She had made her resolve and that was one of the things Brad had said he found endearing in her. She didn't let circumstance dictate her fashion tonight. She had always been beautiful to Brad.
The bells of the door caught his attention for the fourth time tonight. Brad looked up from his computer screen, "Chrissy," he exclaimed! "I thought yow were at the cookout." He smiled warmly and cam around the desk to give her a hug and a kiss. . .on the forehead.
Chrissy forced a smile. Why did he have to be so good looking. He was wearing a tan oxford shirt with a silver tie. He bought that tie when she wouldn't relent on a date some time ago. He was still wearing it. That was a good sign. "Hi Brad," she said. "I brought you some brownies." She put them down on the counter. This wasn't a busy night at all. She'd been there before when guest after guest kept showing up or there had been a line to check in. Tonight, there had only been three check-ins since nine o'clock.
"And they've all been reservations. Let's go sit down," he said as he picked up the plate of goodies and let Chrissy to the continental breakfast area. She noticed that the microwaves had been moved and the coffee makers were in a different place too. Brad asked as they sat at a table close to the front desk, "Why did you come so late? I thought you had a test in the morning?"
"I do." She said. "I just wanted to see you, that's all." She smiled and shrugged her shoulders as she looked around.
Chrissy pushed the goodies over to Brad and he took a bite of one. "Box brownies," he said. "You must have been tired. You usually make them from scratch."
She notice that he paid close attention to the way he chose his words. More selectively than usual. "Brad, I was wondering, "she started.
"What?"
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and sighed, and counted in her head really fast, one,two,three, "when were you going to tell me your feelings changed?"
He stopped, mid bite. She could only assume so he could formulate his words more carefully, because as he stopped, he looked into her eyes. Just as he took a big breath, the bells of the front door rang and he sighed a big sigh of relief, got out of his chair and went to check in the person waiting at the counter. It only took two minutes. Not long enough to him. He walked back, trying not to act suspicious, but knowing he failed anyway. Anxiously, he sat.
"Um, well," he paused, hoping to be saved by the bell again, but it didn't happen. "I promised Jake I'd watch out for you." He almost sounded like he was trying to defend himself in an argument.
"Sure. No need to be cranky about it. I only asked a question, but when did your feelings change?" Chrissy asked, her voice sounding more urgent now.
"I can't pinpoint it," he started.
"When?" Chrissy pressed again. "Two weeks ago? A month, Two months?" She was trying to keep control, but her voice obviously was getting frustrated. She like to think the man she was so taken with was honest with her, but now, she could see differently.
There was nothing Brad hated more about Chrissy than to see her get hurt, and now, he was the cause of her hurt. He had been her protector, her champion, her friend. He couldn't say anything. Plenty was going through his head, but he just couldn't say it.
"And furthermore, Bradley Wayne Johansen, when were you going to tell me? Don't you owe it to yourself to be honest with your fellow human beings? You're an Eagle Scout. I'm not, but I do know that a scout is honest. Be honest with yourself, let alone me." She felt two tears come out of her eyes and pool in the rims, and surprisingly, she was able to keep her voice cool and collected.
Brad was breathing deeper now and looking past her out the window. Chrissy wasn't crying as much as he would have expected her to when he would have gotten around to telling her he no longer loved her. She was merely sitting calmly, with her hands in her lap. Even though her eyes were nearly closed from exhaustion, he noticed she was amazingly calm. It was almost eerie, he thought. And unnerving.
"About three months ago." He looked into her eyes, then looked at the plate of brownies, trying not to notice how beautiful she was with damp, wavy hair. Her red hair shined in the light. He always did have weakness for a gorgeous red-head. But for some reason or another, he failed to identify why he held no interest in her any more. Actually, there was no reason. No other woman. He simply didn't love her any more.
"Three. . .Oh." She raised her eyebrows and looked down to her lap. "and you thought it was a good idea to lead me on?" Chrissy maintained perfect control throughout the dialogue they were sharing.
Brad could have done a better job though. "I couldn't lie to myself about how I felt any more."
"So you thought it was a good idea to lie to me? The person whom you were supposedly in a relationship with? The one who you've been talking about getting married with?"
"Oh," was all he could say. Objection came over his face. "Listen Chrissy," He started. "I thought if I cut things off gradually--"
"You'd what, Brad?" She let annoyance fill every syllable, but never raised her voice. It nearly made him sick to see all the control she displayed. He knew she was really hurt but the next thing she said stung. "It's too little, too late." She said as she wrinkled her nose and looked straight into his eyes. Another tear fell from her eye.
They were making direct eye contact now. Chrissy seemed to be relaxed, despite the threatening water works, her hands in the pocket of her hoodie , head slightly tilted to the side. Brad was leaning on his elbows on the table, trying to plead with her for forgiveness without saying anything.
Chrissy picked up on this rather quickly. "Usually Brad, to get forgiveness, one usually has to say 'sorry' first, but I forgive you." Chrissy hesitated for a few moments and then asked, "why?"
"I don't have an answer."
"So you figured it was okay to lie to me instead." Chrissy said. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Brad just looked into the air with no focus. He had no answer.
"Good bye, Bradly Johansen." Chrissy said as she stood up, "I'll see you around." She pulled her keys out of her pocket, turned and left the building, not looking back, and he let her go.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Chrissy Reveals, She knows who Everett is.
As they sat around the campfire as the rest of the group sang and roasted marshmallows, Chrissy knew in her head she liked Everett and so did most of the other girls there. They could tell by just the way she bent her neck when they talked. He got up from his comfortable rock and went around to sit next to her, on the ground. On the way around he couldn't help noticing out of the corner of his eye the hopeful looks from some of the other girls as he passed them all to sit next to Chrissy, then they all turned back to what they were doing with little pouts on their lips. She stopped her conversation with Angela long enough to say "Hi, Everett", because she had always been a polite person. No one mentioned that she wasn't exactly available. That was obvious too, she thought. She was with Brad, who was at work that night.
Being with Brad was the natural thing to do, since Brad was her brothers best friend. Her brother, Jacob, or Jake, as everyone called him, was on a mission. He was older, by 24 minutes, but at 19, he knew he wasn't quite ready, or willing to serve. "It's a waste to go on a mission if you're not ready", he'd say. "I know it's true, but I just don't think I can do it right now." He had decided to finish playing college baseball first, and he was really good. Good enough to be courted by two or three professional teams at the time. By the time they were 22, their bishop had told Jake to stop waiting around for things. "Jacob," he said, "Either you're going or you're not. Make up your mind. You've reached your goals, but I think you shouldn't waste any more time. You can play ball when you get back." So he went to the doctor and the dentist and ultimately the Missionary Training Center headed for Japan, and Brad, his best friend had promised to look out for Chrissy.
Though he usually came to the activities because of Chrissy, Brad wasn't at this activity or even in this ward. He had to be at work as the night clerk at the Cotton Tree Inn. He tried to trade his shift but wasn't very successful, or more than likely, hadn't tried very hard. These things came up more and more lately. Something was really off about her relationship with Brad. They had grown up together. He was James' best friend and they did everything together...the three of them, and Angela. He went to all her recitals and even wrote, faithfully, when she went on a mission, right after he came home. It all turned around when she had been home for a month or two, right after Jake left. They had stepped backwards somehow. Now, he was acting like they were "just friends" and it was bugging her. Badly.
Chrissy was happy to flirt tonight, because it had been so long since she had, even with Brad. Even in the company of 25 others, including her best friend Angela Wilson and her other roommate, Suzy Masterson. It was nice to talk to Everett. It was already out of the way that he was from Garmisch-Partenkirchen, A small town in Southern Germany where the Olympic games had once been held. Quite a few of the freshmen girls fawned over him, but he intentionally left out the part where he had been living in Switzerland and singing for Europa Records. Chrissy knew this already because she saw him sing in a show about a year ago, in Las Vegas, right after she returned from a semester abroad in Munich. Only when he performed, he went by a stage name: Hawkeye.
"How is your semester going for you?" she asked Everett as he situated himself on the ground beside her? She always tried to disguise the fact that she knew who he was. It had gotten easier, to act it, but so much harder not to say anything.
"It is well enough," he said, his thick accent almost getting in the way of his words. "My astronomy class is hard though. I fall asleep."
"I've heard that can be a problem." Everyone at UVU who took astronomy knew they had signed up for nap-time. "Have you tried any heavily caffeinated drinks?" They both chuckled. Everett looked at the ground and Chrissy sized up his sideways smile he threw at her.
Everett scooted a little closer to Chrissy right as he remembered they were in a crowd of other young single adults from the ward, eating s'mores, and sitting next to Angela and Suzy.
Ah! Angela. Her brown hair whipped around at the very instant she saw Everett inch closer to Chrissy. She smiled, devilishly and quickly stood to grab the guitar off the picnic table behind her. She proffered it to Hillman Sinclair. "Here, Hill, I think you should play us a rousing chorus of some S & G. Or Beatles. Or something." She only did this because she knew he would never pass up an opportunity to show off, or "share his talents," as he liked to put it, and he usually always made Chrissy sing too.
Hillman tried to look surprised, which shifted the guilty look away from Angela. One would have thought it was because she was embarrassed to ask Hill to sing, Angela was happy that Chrissy was flirting again.
"Nah," said Hillman. "Though I love a good show, or rather, to put on a good show,
not this time." He offered no excuse. He was just playing to the crowd.
"Hill, Hill, Hill Hill," chanted Angela, Chrissy, Suzy and a few others including Everett. "Hill, Hill, Hill, Hill."
Hillman rose out of his camp chair, waving his hands like some kind of happy dictator hushing the crowd to address his constituents. "Fine," he sighed loudly, but they all saw the smile on his face that told them he wasn't opposed in any way to show off. And why not? He really was pretty good, but he didn't sing Simon and Garfunkel, or the Who, or The Beatles. He played some Adele. And he sang it like he meant it.
So did everyone else. "and you played it to the deep." roars and hoots came from the meager crowd, and Hillman was beaming. He loved a good show, and he loved to be the good show. He reached up to his neck for the guitar strap and addressed the crowd. "While we're all in such a good mood," he said as he looked over everyone and rested his eyes on Chrissy, "CHRISSY!"
She knew it was coming, it always did. She threw her head fall back and rolled her eyes and sighed out loud in a way Everett couldn't not notice sitting right next to her. Nor did anyone else close not notice, which stirred them more.
"Chrissy. Chrissy." He couldn't help but make it sound like she was a 6 year-old who just got her hand caught in the cookie jar. "We all know you are pretty darn good at what you do."
"You know it," said Suzy, the vile betrayer of trust, who rats out your talent at the first moment she can.
Hillman continued, "And everyone should know you look fantastic in a lab coat...I know," he announced with confidence, to the general population of the campfire, "she's my lab partner." Hillman winked at her. "Chrissy, Chrissy, Chrissy."
"Yes, Hillman?" she matched his tone, shaking her head.
"Would you do us the honor of gifting us with your voice? Right here? Right now?" He raised his eyebrows and waited.
"No, Hillman," she continued in the same tone.
"Chrissy." His eyebrows were raised and he continued to hold out the guitar. It was cheep wood, but got him dates, so he loved it.
"Um," she tease the crowd, "I'm really not sure," she said with a sly smile, "I couldn't possibly know anything for a campfire." Which obviously wasn't true because most of the people there gave her silly looks and a few cat-calls.. She knew plenty, but to sing in front of Everett would be different. This wasn't like her. She usually would love to share her talents. She wasn't one to hide her gifts in the bushes, but tonight was different. Previously she had told herself, "the next time, I'm going to sing one of Hawkeye's songs." Tonight, Hawkeye was there, and she had turned into a ball of bumbling nerves.
"It mattereth not, Chrissy," Said Angela. "You've been playing that new song for months. It's perfect and you know it," she said, steeling a small glance at Everett, who looked at the two friends with a hint of confusion.
And almost like she knew what Chrissy was thinking, Suzy said "you shouldn't hide your talents under the bushes."
"With roommates like you, I sure don't need enemies." She sighed a big sigh, knowing she'd never get out of it, unless, somehow she died in the next 10 seconds.
"What ever! I know you've been taking guitar lessons, Chrissy, and you've got that new song down well enough you could sing in in your sleep." Angela said, quietly. But did she know the significance of the particular song Chrissy thought about considering.? Angela really knew how to get to her, and it was working. She could sing this one in her sleep, and play it too.
Chrissy bit her bottom lip and wrinkled her nose.
"Come on," Hillman said, "do it for me." His arm started to shake and the guitar wavered.
She stared at the sideways smile he gave her and wrinkled her nose. "I don't know..." Chrissy hesitated in her words as she took the guitar from Hillman.
He let out a loud "WHOOP!" as everyone clapped for her. They all loved a good show, and they all knew she was good. "Thanks. I don't think I could have held onto that much longer." as he let go of his ax.
She played a few chords and started, "Please, Story Smurf, tell us a story...Um, I don't know. Come on, Please? oh, all right then...." The crowd laughed. She laughed too, "no, really though."
"Is she good?" Everett asked Suzy, quietly.
"Why don't you wait and see for yourself." Suzy was always one to talk up her friends talents and let others discover them too.
Taking a deep breath in the midst of hot dogs and s'mores, she turned to her roommate and said, "Angela, I don't know if I can do this."
Her friend smiled at her, "Sure you can. What's stopping you?" She really was the best to give kind, encouraging words. She had faith in everyone. For everything. She had no idea why her friend whom she had known for most of her life couldn't do something she loved to do all of the sudden.
First Chrissy looked apprehensive as her best friend said those words. She raised her right eyebrow, and scrunched up her lips to show her protest. In the end, her nerves lost and she gave in to the pressure. "Okay," Chrissy whispered and let out a big breath as the ruckus died down. "I don't know if I can play this one with you here, Everett," she said quietly to him. She wanted to add "because I've been in love with you for at least two years, since I saw you perform in Las Vegas as Caesars Palace with 'Hawkeye'," but she resisted the urge.
"Why not? I'm sure you'll do fine. Give it a shot." He ignored that last part she said. For once he was grateful it wasn't him everyone was trying to coax a song out of, but smiled suspiciously, as if things like this happened to Hillman and Chrissy quite a bit. He sounded so encouraging, that Chrissy forgot he was a native German speaker.
As she readied the guitar strap over her shoulder and neck, Chrissy half smiled as her nerves were nearly overcome by calm. She made sure the capo was in the right key, and as she played the first notes with confidence, Everett understood immediately why she said "with you here." It was one of his songs. One from his bands English CD. Not a ballad, but not a fast, rock tempo either. So steady and sure was the pop-ish tune coming out of the instrument by her hands, he looked and noticed that she had closed her eyes for concentration.
At that single moment, Everett Vogel realized Chrissy knew who he really was. She was singing his song so perfectly, soulfully and so full of emotion that he hoped it was only because she like music so much and had heard it somewhere, maybe it passed by on Pandora while she surfed the Internet, but something inside him told him that was unlikely. As he watched her wrap her hands and fingers around the strings and the body of the instrument, and her hair fell into her face, he knew it didn't matter because she didn't need her eyes to play this song. During the process, while everyone mostly listened with appreciation and as her face softened with the melody and the tempo of the music was perfect, while the words came out effortlessly and so beautifully, he knew then that she knew who he really was.
Everett looked into the fire, mesmerized by the sound of the red-haired beauty's voice sitting next to him, singing his own words . He tucked his knees up to his chest and held his legs as she finished and everyone cheered. He sat, staring into the fire, not cheering, or even looking in her direction, and never having heard one of his songs with such passion before.
"I can't understand it, but I do.
That stranger I saw yesterday,
As he smiled at me,
he reminded me of you
And I knew my life would look up
From the next time I see you.
Looking towards you,
Looking towards you."
She smiled and bit her bottom lip a little as she stood and handed Hillman back his guitar. "That's new." Hillman said, "It was really nice!" He smiled as he retrieved his guitar. No one here had heard that song before, she'd never sung it for anyone but her roommates before, but Everett knew it by heart. Louder, Hillman said, "Give it up everyone for my lab partner, Chrissy MacDallan!"
The applause grew and fell just as quickly as he said that, taking his guitar back. She sat back down and pursed her lips together, looking around her. Angela and Suzy were smiling huge smiles at her in approval, "You were great!" They both said. Then turned to talk talk to someone else. Hillman started playing something by The Beatles and some of the others sang along as others talked and roasted marshmallows. From what she could see of Everett, he had a glazed look on the side of his face. She couldn't tell if he was pleased or not. He was still staring into the fire.
"I'm sorry if I ruined it," she said quietly in his direction, without looking at him, and with the most respect she could rally. He continued to look into the fire as if she had said nothing. She looked at him quickly, and then, annoyed, she swiftly pushed herself off the ground, dusted the dirt off her back side and shook her hair out of her face. She turned to the picnic tables full of chips and dogs and drinks, made it to the other side and grabbed herself a bag of marshmallows. "I should have played something else," she muttered under her breath as she furrowed her eyebrows and scrunched her nose.
"No," the voice came from behind. It was thickly laced with a German accent which made her turn on her heals to see Everett less than two steps behind her. He had a dazed look on his face, "that was beautiful."
"I thought you might be a little wierded out." She said. "I thought, maybe I'd ruined a perfectly wonderful song. When you didn't say anyth--."
"I couldn't. Listen, Chrissy, I have heard heard my music performed so many ways so many times, but never that way before. Even I've never sung it that way before. It was beautiful, just like your friends over there said," he said as he nodded towards the crowd at the bon fire. He stepped closer to her and raised his hand gently to her elbow. She could fell the sincerity in his words. And there was a soft, nearly a magical feeling in his touch. They locked eye contact and instantly, she knew automatically what she had to do next.
"I have to go home Everett," She told him, looking away and trying to ignore the flutter she was feeling in her chest . He still held her arm. "I have a bio test tomorrow that I need to wrap up some loose ends for." She hoped he didn't see her breathing change, or the color rise in her cheeks.
"Can I come over after your test?" He never broke eye contact. He intensified his gaze and somehow managed to lead him to the far side of the picnic table and leaned against it. More relaxed now, he followed it with, "I'd really like to run something by you."
"I don't know. I've got to work for a few hours and I really need to talk to Brad about something." She could still feel her heart beating really heavily.
"Oh. Sure, okay." He sounded distracted at this revelation. There always seemed to be this Brad, whom he had never met.
"How about another time." Chrissy didn't really know what had just happened. She couldn't quite read the look on Everett's face, but she couldn't ignore what she just felt. It had been several months since Brad made her feel like that. Probably since before her time in Germany as an exchange student. She couldn't be sure any more. She turned away from him and went back to the fire. She found Angela and Suzy and told them she was going home to study.
"You sure?" Suzy asked.
"You're going to miss ou-out!" Angela said, a little sing-songy.
"Yeah, I've got to study some more."
"Okay bye," Angela said.
"Yeah, bye," Suzy said too, "You study waaayyy too much". The girls hugged and wished her luck on her test.
Chrissy smiled, forced a laugh and said, "that's why my GPA is 3.875. What's yours?" She giggled and got a friendly scowl out of her roommate. "I'll see you tomorrow." Chrissy left the group, looked over at Everett one more time to see him still looking at her, "See you later," was all she could convince herself to say, but she just couldn't break eye contact as she walked away. He smiled at her and looked down, at which point Chrissy looked in the direction of her car. She made the last fifty or sixty feet by herself with only her bag of marshmallows to keep her company, climbed into her car and drove away in silence. Neither one of them noticed her roommates sizing them up, with devilish grins.
As soon as Chrissy was in her car, her two best friend in the world bounced over to Everett.
"What was that all about, Everett?" Angela asked him as she pulled some gooey marshmallows off a roasting stick and sandwiched it between to graham crackers and chocolate pieces. In her opinion, this was the only way to eat marshmallows, because in their own right, they are disgusting.
"I really don't know," he said, still following the trail of Chrissy's footprints with his eyes.
"You know what I think? I think you like her." Angela was playing the adversary right now as she dusted the dirt from her jeans. She could see it, Suzy could see it, and every one else was pretty suspicious. Sure, there were the few hold outs in the ward. Probably three or four freshman girls who relished in the thought of going out with a foreigner with a hot accent. They refused to see it. But he couldn't argue. He couldn't accept or deny the accusations either so he returned the campfire and rejoined the revelry.
"I think he was leaning," Angela nodded into the direction of Suzy's ear as soon as he was out of range.
"Yeah." Suzy said. "Me too." They both smiled, then at the same time, both said,
"Brad."
The party didn't wrap up until nearly 10:30, when the bishop declared it over and he had to leave, but not before he began clean up. Those who were left got clean up duty, and Everett and a couple other of the guys helped put out the fire with Hillman after everything else was finished.
Being with Brad was the natural thing to do, since Brad was her brothers best friend. Her brother, Jacob, or Jake, as everyone called him, was on a mission. He was older, by 24 minutes, but at 19, he knew he wasn't quite ready, or willing to serve. "It's a waste to go on a mission if you're not ready", he'd say. "I know it's true, but I just don't think I can do it right now." He had decided to finish playing college baseball first, and he was really good. Good enough to be courted by two or three professional teams at the time. By the time they were 22, their bishop had told Jake to stop waiting around for things. "Jacob," he said, "Either you're going or you're not. Make up your mind. You've reached your goals, but I think you shouldn't waste any more time. You can play ball when you get back." So he went to the doctor and the dentist and ultimately the Missionary Training Center headed for Japan, and Brad, his best friend had promised to look out for Chrissy.
Though he usually came to the activities because of Chrissy, Brad wasn't at this activity or even in this ward. He had to be at work as the night clerk at the Cotton Tree Inn. He tried to trade his shift but wasn't very successful, or more than likely, hadn't tried very hard. These things came up more and more lately. Something was really off about her relationship with Brad. They had grown up together. He was James' best friend and they did everything together...the three of them, and Angela. He went to all her recitals and even wrote, faithfully, when she went on a mission, right after he came home. It all turned around when she had been home for a month or two, right after Jake left. They had stepped backwards somehow. Now, he was acting like they were "just friends" and it was bugging her. Badly.
Chrissy was happy to flirt tonight, because it had been so long since she had, even with Brad. Even in the company of 25 others, including her best friend Angela Wilson and her other roommate, Suzy Masterson. It was nice to talk to Everett. It was already out of the way that he was from Garmisch-Partenkirchen, A small town in Southern Germany where the Olympic games had once been held. Quite a few of the freshmen girls fawned over him, but he intentionally left out the part where he had been living in Switzerland and singing for Europa Records. Chrissy knew this already because she saw him sing in a show about a year ago, in Las Vegas, right after she returned from a semester abroad in Munich. Only when he performed, he went by a stage name: Hawkeye.
"How is your semester going for you?" she asked Everett as he situated himself on the ground beside her? She always tried to disguise the fact that she knew who he was. It had gotten easier, to act it, but so much harder not to say anything.
"It is well enough," he said, his thick accent almost getting in the way of his words. "My astronomy class is hard though. I fall asleep."
"I've heard that can be a problem." Everyone at UVU who took astronomy knew they had signed up for nap-time. "Have you tried any heavily caffeinated drinks?" They both chuckled. Everett looked at the ground and Chrissy sized up his sideways smile he threw at her.
Everett scooted a little closer to Chrissy right as he remembered they were in a crowd of other young single adults from the ward, eating s'mores, and sitting next to Angela and Suzy.
Ah! Angela. Her brown hair whipped around at the very instant she saw Everett inch closer to Chrissy. She smiled, devilishly and quickly stood to grab the guitar off the picnic table behind her. She proffered it to Hillman Sinclair. "Here, Hill, I think you should play us a rousing chorus of some S & G. Or Beatles. Or something." She only did this because she knew he would never pass up an opportunity to show off, or "share his talents," as he liked to put it, and he usually always made Chrissy sing too.
Hillman tried to look surprised, which shifted the guilty look away from Angela. One would have thought it was because she was embarrassed to ask Hill to sing, Angela was happy that Chrissy was flirting again.
"Nah," said Hillman. "Though I love a good show, or rather, to put on a good show,
not this time." He offered no excuse. He was just playing to the crowd.
"Hill, Hill, Hill Hill," chanted Angela, Chrissy, Suzy and a few others including Everett. "Hill, Hill, Hill, Hill."
Hillman rose out of his camp chair, waving his hands like some kind of happy dictator hushing the crowd to address his constituents. "Fine," he sighed loudly, but they all saw the smile on his face that told them he wasn't opposed in any way to show off. And why not? He really was pretty good, but he didn't sing Simon and Garfunkel, or the Who, or The Beatles. He played some Adele. And he sang it like he meant it.
So did everyone else. "and you played it to the deep." roars and hoots came from the meager crowd, and Hillman was beaming. He loved a good show, and he loved to be the good show. He reached up to his neck for the guitar strap and addressed the crowd. "While we're all in such a good mood," he said as he looked over everyone and rested his eyes on Chrissy, "CHRISSY!"
She knew it was coming, it always did. She threw her head fall back and rolled her eyes and sighed out loud in a way Everett couldn't not notice sitting right next to her. Nor did anyone else close not notice, which stirred them more.
"Chrissy. Chrissy." He couldn't help but make it sound like she was a 6 year-old who just got her hand caught in the cookie jar. "We all know you are pretty darn good at what you do."
"You know it," said Suzy, the vile betrayer of trust, who rats out your talent at the first moment she can.
Hillman continued, "And everyone should know you look fantastic in a lab coat...I know," he announced with confidence, to the general population of the campfire, "she's my lab partner." Hillman winked at her. "Chrissy, Chrissy, Chrissy."
"Yes, Hillman?" she matched his tone, shaking her head.
"Would you do us the honor of gifting us with your voice? Right here? Right now?" He raised his eyebrows and waited.
"No, Hillman," she continued in the same tone.
"Chrissy." His eyebrows were raised and he continued to hold out the guitar. It was cheep wood, but got him dates, so he loved it.
"Um," she tease the crowd, "I'm really not sure," she said with a sly smile, "I couldn't possibly know anything for a campfire." Which obviously wasn't true because most of the people there gave her silly looks and a few cat-calls.. She knew plenty, but to sing in front of Everett would be different. This wasn't like her. She usually would love to share her talents. She wasn't one to hide her gifts in the bushes, but tonight was different. Previously she had told herself, "the next time, I'm going to sing one of Hawkeye's songs." Tonight, Hawkeye was there, and she had turned into a ball of bumbling nerves.
"It mattereth not, Chrissy," Said Angela. "You've been playing that new song for months. It's perfect and you know it," she said, steeling a small glance at Everett, who looked at the two friends with a hint of confusion.
And almost like she knew what Chrissy was thinking, Suzy said "you shouldn't hide your talents under the bushes."
"With roommates like you, I sure don't need enemies." She sighed a big sigh, knowing she'd never get out of it, unless, somehow she died in the next 10 seconds.
"What ever! I know you've been taking guitar lessons, Chrissy, and you've got that new song down well enough you could sing in in your sleep." Angela said, quietly. But did she know the significance of the particular song Chrissy thought about considering.? Angela really knew how to get to her, and it was working. She could sing this one in her sleep, and play it too.
Chrissy bit her bottom lip and wrinkled her nose.
"Come on," Hillman said, "do it for me." His arm started to shake and the guitar wavered.
She stared at the sideways smile he gave her and wrinkled her nose. "I don't know..." Chrissy hesitated in her words as she took the guitar from Hillman.
He let out a loud "WHOOP!" as everyone clapped for her. They all loved a good show, and they all knew she was good. "Thanks. I don't think I could have held onto that much longer." as he let go of his ax.
She played a few chords and started, "Please, Story Smurf, tell us a story...Um, I don't know. Come on, Please? oh, all right then...." The crowd laughed. She laughed too, "no, really though."
"Is she good?" Everett asked Suzy, quietly.
"Why don't you wait and see for yourself." Suzy was always one to talk up her friends talents and let others discover them too.
Taking a deep breath in the midst of hot dogs and s'mores, she turned to her roommate and said, "Angela, I don't know if I can do this."
Her friend smiled at her, "Sure you can. What's stopping you?" She really was the best to give kind, encouraging words. She had faith in everyone. For everything. She had no idea why her friend whom she had known for most of her life couldn't do something she loved to do all of the sudden.
First Chrissy looked apprehensive as her best friend said those words. She raised her right eyebrow, and scrunched up her lips to show her protest. In the end, her nerves lost and she gave in to the pressure. "Okay," Chrissy whispered and let out a big breath as the ruckus died down. "I don't know if I can play this one with you here, Everett," she said quietly to him. She wanted to add "because I've been in love with you for at least two years, since I saw you perform in Las Vegas as Caesars Palace with 'Hawkeye'," but she resisted the urge.
"Why not? I'm sure you'll do fine. Give it a shot." He ignored that last part she said. For once he was grateful it wasn't him everyone was trying to coax a song out of, but smiled suspiciously, as if things like this happened to Hillman and Chrissy quite a bit. He sounded so encouraging, that Chrissy forgot he was a native German speaker.
As she readied the guitar strap over her shoulder and neck, Chrissy half smiled as her nerves were nearly overcome by calm. She made sure the capo was in the right key, and as she played the first notes with confidence, Everett understood immediately why she said "with you here." It was one of his songs. One from his bands English CD. Not a ballad, but not a fast, rock tempo either. So steady and sure was the pop-ish tune coming out of the instrument by her hands, he looked and noticed that she had closed her eyes for concentration.
At that single moment, Everett Vogel realized Chrissy knew who he really was. She was singing his song so perfectly, soulfully and so full of emotion that he hoped it was only because she like music so much and had heard it somewhere, maybe it passed by on Pandora while she surfed the Internet, but something inside him told him that was unlikely. As he watched her wrap her hands and fingers around the strings and the body of the instrument, and her hair fell into her face, he knew it didn't matter because she didn't need her eyes to play this song. During the process, while everyone mostly listened with appreciation and as her face softened with the melody and the tempo of the music was perfect, while the words came out effortlessly and so beautifully, he knew then that she knew who he really was.
Everett looked into the fire, mesmerized by the sound of the red-haired beauty's voice sitting next to him, singing his own words . He tucked his knees up to his chest and held his legs as she finished and everyone cheered. He sat, staring into the fire, not cheering, or even looking in her direction, and never having heard one of his songs with such passion before.
"I can't understand it, but I do.
That stranger I saw yesterday,
As he smiled at me,
he reminded me of you
And I knew my life would look up
From the next time I see you.
Looking towards you,
Looking towards you."
She smiled and bit her bottom lip a little as she stood and handed Hillman back his guitar. "That's new." Hillman said, "It was really nice!" He smiled as he retrieved his guitar. No one here had heard that song before, she'd never sung it for anyone but her roommates before, but Everett knew it by heart. Louder, Hillman said, "Give it up everyone for my lab partner, Chrissy MacDallan!"
The applause grew and fell just as quickly as he said that, taking his guitar back. She sat back down and pursed her lips together, looking around her. Angela and Suzy were smiling huge smiles at her in approval, "You were great!" They both said. Then turned to talk talk to someone else. Hillman started playing something by The Beatles and some of the others sang along as others talked and roasted marshmallows. From what she could see of Everett, he had a glazed look on the side of his face. She couldn't tell if he was pleased or not. He was still staring into the fire.
"I'm sorry if I ruined it," she said quietly in his direction, without looking at him, and with the most respect she could rally. He continued to look into the fire as if she had said nothing. She looked at him quickly, and then, annoyed, she swiftly pushed herself off the ground, dusted the dirt off her back side and shook her hair out of her face. She turned to the picnic tables full of chips and dogs and drinks, made it to the other side and grabbed herself a bag of marshmallows. "I should have played something else," she muttered under her breath as she furrowed her eyebrows and scrunched her nose.
"No," the voice came from behind. It was thickly laced with a German accent which made her turn on her heals to see Everett less than two steps behind her. He had a dazed look on his face, "that was beautiful."
"I thought you might be a little wierded out." She said. "I thought, maybe I'd ruined a perfectly wonderful song. When you didn't say anyth--."
"I couldn't. Listen, Chrissy, I have heard heard my music performed so many ways so many times, but never that way before. Even I've never sung it that way before. It was beautiful, just like your friends over there said," he said as he nodded towards the crowd at the bon fire. He stepped closer to her and raised his hand gently to her elbow. She could fell the sincerity in his words. And there was a soft, nearly a magical feeling in his touch. They locked eye contact and instantly, she knew automatically what she had to do next.
"I have to go home Everett," She told him, looking away and trying to ignore the flutter she was feeling in her chest . He still held her arm. "I have a bio test tomorrow that I need to wrap up some loose ends for." She hoped he didn't see her breathing change, or the color rise in her cheeks.
"Can I come over after your test?" He never broke eye contact. He intensified his gaze and somehow managed to lead him to the far side of the picnic table and leaned against it. More relaxed now, he followed it with, "I'd really like to run something by you."
"I don't know. I've got to work for a few hours and I really need to talk to Brad about something." She could still feel her heart beating really heavily.
"Oh. Sure, okay." He sounded distracted at this revelation. There always seemed to be this Brad, whom he had never met.
"How about another time." Chrissy didn't really know what had just happened. She couldn't quite read the look on Everett's face, but she couldn't ignore what she just felt. It had been several months since Brad made her feel like that. Probably since before her time in Germany as an exchange student. She couldn't be sure any more. She turned away from him and went back to the fire. She found Angela and Suzy and told them she was going home to study.
"You sure?" Suzy asked.
"You're going to miss ou-out!" Angela said, a little sing-songy.
"Yeah, I've got to study some more."
"Okay bye," Angela said.
"Yeah, bye," Suzy said too, "You study waaayyy too much". The girls hugged and wished her luck on her test.
Chrissy smiled, forced a laugh and said, "that's why my GPA is 3.875. What's yours?" She giggled and got a friendly scowl out of her roommate. "I'll see you tomorrow." Chrissy left the group, looked over at Everett one more time to see him still looking at her, "See you later," was all she could convince herself to say, but she just couldn't break eye contact as she walked away. He smiled at her and looked down, at which point Chrissy looked in the direction of her car. She made the last fifty or sixty feet by herself with only her bag of marshmallows to keep her company, climbed into her car and drove away in silence. Neither one of them noticed her roommates sizing them up, with devilish grins.
As soon as Chrissy was in her car, her two best friend in the world bounced over to Everett.
"What was that all about, Everett?" Angela asked him as she pulled some gooey marshmallows off a roasting stick and sandwiched it between to graham crackers and chocolate pieces. In her opinion, this was the only way to eat marshmallows, because in their own right, they are disgusting.
"I really don't know," he said, still following the trail of Chrissy's footprints with his eyes.
"You know what I think? I think you like her." Angela was playing the adversary right now as she dusted the dirt from her jeans. She could see it, Suzy could see it, and every one else was pretty suspicious. Sure, there were the few hold outs in the ward. Probably three or four freshman girls who relished in the thought of going out with a foreigner with a hot accent. They refused to see it. But he couldn't argue. He couldn't accept or deny the accusations either so he returned the campfire and rejoined the revelry.
"I think he was leaning," Angela nodded into the direction of Suzy's ear as soon as he was out of range.
"Yeah." Suzy said. "Me too." They both smiled, then at the same time, both said,
"Brad."
The party didn't wrap up until nearly 10:30, when the bishop declared it over and he had to leave, but not before he began clean up. Those who were left got clean up duty, and Everett and a couple other of the guys helped put out the fire with Hillman after everything else was finished.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
