Rick reached over and took her hand. She felt close to him, warm and secure. She wanted that feeling to last all evening. She wanted him to hold her hand all the way home.
Driving with one hand, Rick put a CD in the player, and for an hour, mellow saxophone music rolled all around them. They didn't speak the whole time. They just held hands and let the music lull them. Christy closed her eyes and rested her head against the seat.
So this is what it feels like to have a boyfriend who adores me. I love it. I never knew it could feel this wonderful. Don't ever end, sweet night. Don't stop driving, Rick. Don't stop the music. Don't ever stop being my boyfriend.
Rick's car came to a stop, rousing Christy from her half- dream state.
"Where are we?" She looked around at the darkness outside the car window.
"Look out there." Rick pointed over the hood of the car. "The beautiful lights of downtown Escondido."
"I thought we were going to my house," Christy said, stretching the kink in her neck and trying to hide the nervous feelings creeping into her voice. "We really should get going."
"Is your neck sore? Here, turn around. I'll get the knot out."
Christy turned, and Rick's strong hands massaged her neck, then her shoulders. She felt herself beginning to relax beneath his touch. He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the neck, then again on the cheek. When he turned her face to kiss her on the lips, she pulled away and put up her hands in defense.
"Wait." It was all she could think to say. "Just wait."
Rick sat silently waiting, while she collected her thoughts. "What is it, Christy? What's wrong?" His voice sounded gentle and patient.
"This is coming at me too fast, that's all. I'm just not ready for this."
Rick let out a low chuckle. "Ready for what? I was only going to kiss you. Honest."
Christy remained on guard, with her back pressed against the passenger door, frantically trying to evaluate her colliding emotions.
"Hey," Rick said, "don't look so frightened. It's only me, remember? Your boyfriend. I'm not going to hurt you. Come here." He opened his arms and drew her to him in a gentle hug.
His hand stroked the back of her hair, and in her ear, he whispered, "You smell so good. You feel so good in my arms. Do you know how long I've waited to hold you like this?"
He tilted up her chin, and this time she let him kiss her. As soon as he did, the panic feeling in the pit of her stomach returned.
She pulled away, more slowly this time.
"I'm sorry, Rick. I'm not feeling well. My stomach kind of hurts, and well, I'm just not ready for all of this."
Rick pulled back and let out a huge puff of air. Folding his arms across his chest, he said, "It's that surfer guy, isn't it?"
"No." Christy shook her head and looked Rick in the eye. "Todd and I were never like this. I told you. He and I were very close friends. That's all. You're my first real boyfriend, and well, maybe I don't know how to act like the perfect girlfriend. But if you take it slow and give me a chance, I'm sure I'll get used to all these feelings rumbling around inside my stomach right now."
"So," Rick said with a slow grin returning to his face, "I make you sick to your stomach, do I?"
Christy let her smile return. "You know what I mean."
He reached over, grasped her hand, and squeezed it. All her fearful, overpowering feelings gave way to the more comfortable, warm, close feelings.
"Come on, Killer. I'll take you home."
Several minutes later, when Rick and Christy pulled up in front of her house, Christy wondered what time it was and if her parents were still up. Rick carried her luggage and extra shopping bags to the front door, while all Christy carried was her purse, her bouquet, and her new vase.
The minute they stepped on the porch, the front door swung open, and Christy's dad stood behind the screen door looking like a grizzly bear. He didn't say a word, only opened the screen door and grabbed Christy's suitcase out of Rick's hand.
"Well, good night, Christy," Rick said quickly. "Good night, Mr. Miller." Then he vanished, leaving Christy to face her parents alone.
She stepped inside, her bouquet cradled in one arm, the ceramic vase in the other. "I'll put these in water," she said, feeling her mother's glare following her into the kitchen.
11:47 blazed out from the digital clock on the microwave.
It can't be that late! No wonder my parents are in a nuclear meltdown! I'm supposed to be home by ten o'clock except for special occasions. If I explain carefully, maybe they'll consider this a special occasion. Then again, maybe I'm in big trouble.
Haphazardly cramming the roses into the vase, Christy decided to leave them on the kitchen counter. Plopping them in the middle of the kitchen table would not add a festive touch.
With cautious steps, she returned to the living room and sat on the couch at the opposite end from her mother. This was not Bob and Marti's, where she could excuse herself and retreat to her room. She was about to receive the lecture of her life.
Mom went into the kitchen; Christy could hear her making coffee. Apparently, this was going to be a long night.
Alone in the living room with her dad, Christy broke the ice by asking, "Did Uncle Bob call to tell you Rick was bringing me home?"
"No. I called him several times." Dad's voice had a low growl to it that caused Christy's heart to beat faster. "I finally reached him at ten o'clock. He said you'd been out to dinner and that you left his house around nine-thirty. It is now almost midnight. Where have you been?"
"We stopped for a while and talked. Then Rick brought me home. We didn't stop for long."
"Just talked?" Dad's face was beginning to turn a shade of red that clashed with his red hair.
Mom stepped in just then and delivered a steaming cup of coffee to Dad. With a concerned look, Mom said, "Christina, we had absolutely no idea where you were. I had dinner prepared here for Bob and Marti, and when you didn't show up, and no one called us, and no one answered the phone there..." Mom choked up. "We thought the worst. Do you have any idea what you put your father and me through tonight?"
Christy lowered her head. "No. I'm sorry. I thought Bob called you."
"You should have called us," Dad said. "Just because you're old enough to date doesn't mean you can take off anytime you want with anybody you want! You still have to ask us before you go out or make arrangements to do things. Is that understood?"
"Yes."
Dad drew in a deep, steamy sip of coffee before coming down hard. "You want freedom. You want to drive the car whenever you want. You want to date whomever you want, and you want to wear whatever you want. If you want freedom, then you have to show your mother and me that you are responsible."
Christy glanced at her round-faced mother, who gave her a stern look and quietly went back to drinking her coffee.
"First, you drove the car to your babysitting job three days last week, and when your mother went to the grocery store today, she nearly ran out of gas. When you drive the car, you are responsible to fill it with gas."
"But that job ended last week," Christy reasoned. "I've already spent the little I made, and when school starts next week, I won't have any money for gas."
"Yes, you will. You're going to find a job. Your mother and I talked about it, and if you want to drive the car, you need to find a job that will provide you with at least enough for gas money each week.
"Second," he continued without leaving any space for Christy to protest, "you will have to have approval from your mother or me before you go on any more dates. You'll have to tell us where you are going; you must be home by ten o'clock, even on weekends; and we must approve of the boy you're going out with. Understand?"
"Yes," Christy answered, relieved that he hadn't taken away her privilege to date. She and Rick could be home by ten if they started out early enough. It really wouldn't change a thing.
"Next, where did you get that outfit? Those are not the kind of jeans I want my daughter wearing."
"But they're brand new. Marti just bought them for me today. They're in style, Dad."
"Fine. If everyone is wearing them, you'll have no trouble giving away yours. You are not wearing them. Is that clear?"
Christy nodded and looked down at her jeans, thinking of how a few hours earlier she had felt like a model in this trendy outfit. Now she felt ridiculous. It was one thing for Rick to notice her outfits and another for her dad to.
"Final point is, you're grounded for two weeks for your irresponsibility tonight."
"Norm?" Mom said softly. "I thought we decided on one week."
He tilted his coffee mug up for one last swig. "Any girl who comes home dressed like that needs two weeks' restriction."
Mom looked down at her coffee mug, which Christy knew meant her mom wouldn't press the issue anymore.
"We love you, Christy," Dad concluded. "You know that. But we can't say we're real happy with the choices you seem to be making lately. We care about you too much to let you toss away your virtue so easily."
His last line, "toss away your virtue," haunted Christy through her long and fitful night of sleep.
What does he mean by virtue? Does he think I'm doing something wrong with Rick? Or that my clothes aren't modest enough? I'm totally conservative compared to my friends. He'd die if he saw some of their outfits! Just what is virtue, and how am I tossing it away?
The next day when Christy's family arrived home from church, Rick called to apologize for not meeting her at the service. He said his family had taken him out to brunch as a farewell before college. Christy quickly explained she was on restriction and needed to get off the phone.
"That stinks! What am I supposed to do for the next two weekends?" Rick grumbled. "I'm coming over. I'm going to talk your dad out of it."
"No, Rick, don't. You don't know my dad. You'll only make it worse."
"Christy?" Mom called from the kitchen. "I need your help with lunch."
"I have to go, Rick. I'm sorry. I'll talk to you later."
"When? If I can't call you or see you, how am I going to talk to you?"
"I don't know. I'm sorry. I need to hang up. We'll figure out something. It'll work out. You'll see."
"Yeah, I'll work it out. Don't you worry about anything, Christy. I'll work it out."
About ten minutes later, as they were sitting down to a lunch of tuna melts and coleslaw, Rick showed up at the front door. Since it was so hot, the front door was open, and they could all see him standing by the screen door.
"We're eating, Rick," Christy's dad said without getting up from the table. "Christy is on restriction, so she won't be able to see you for two weeks."
Christy felt like a five-year-old whose best friend had come over to play and was shooed away.
"That's what I'd like to talk to you about, sir. You see, I'm leaving for college on Tuesday, and I wondered if you'd reconsider and allow me to take Christy out tonight."
"No."
"Well, not 'out' exactly. I thought we'd spend the evening with my parents at my house. Would that be okay?"
"No."
Rick didn't know Christy's dad the way she did, or else he would have given up after the first no. The poor guy stood outside the screen door and tried at least five different approaches before saying with a sad puppy face, "Bye, Christy. Have a good first week of school."
She felt crushed, and furious with her dad. Sometimes he didn't seem to give a rip about anybody else's feelings. What had her mother ever seen in him, anyway?
Christy picked at her lunch, eating only the cheese and a tiny pinch of coleslaw. She was about to excuse herself when another car pulled up in front of the house, and a girl with short blond hair bounded up to the door.
Oh no! It's Alissa. I completely forgot she was coming today.
"Mom, it's Alissa. I invited her to come before I knew I was on restriction, and she drove all the way from Newport Beach. She's leaving for Boston this week, and this is the only chance I'll have to see her probably ever again!"
"Hello." Alissa tapped on the wooden frame of the screen door. "Is anyone home?"
"All right," Christy's dad said. "Let her in. But you're staying here. You're not going out anywhere."
Even though he sounded gruff, Christy could tell he really didn't mind Alissa coming to see her.
"Come in, come in," Dad said, getting up to open the screen door. "You must be the one who moved to Boston."
"Yes, I'm Alissa. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Miller." She looked pretty as usual, and she was losing some of the pudginess around her middle that had come with the pregnancy.
Christy stood up and introduced Alissa to Mom and Christy's little brother, David. Up to this point, David had been quiet, taking in all the afternoon's events.
Now he piped up. "How come Christy gets to have her girlfriends come over even though she's on restriction? That's not fair!"
Alissa looked sheepishly at Christy. "Did I come at a bad time?"
"No," Mom spoke up, "it's fine, really. You girls can go on back to Christy's room."
Christy automatically began to clear the table.
"That's okay. I'll get these," Mom said.
"That's not fair either!" David whined. "When it's my turn, I always have to do the dishes."
The girls retreated into Christy's room and closed the door. Christy flopped face first onto her bed. With her arms spread out, she hollered into the patchwork bedspread, "Aughhhhhhh!"
"Bad day?" Alissa ventured, gracefully alighting on the edge of the bed.
Christy talked nonstop for twenty minutes while Alissa patiently listened to her complicated dilemma with Todd and Rick and her parents and the restriction and having to find a job.
When Christy finally paused to catch her breath, Alissa smiled. "You don't know how blessed you are."
"Blessed?" It reminded her of Todd's "blessing," and right now that didn't help.
"Yes, you are blessed," Alissa said. "When my father died about a year and a half ago, I had no boundaries. I could do whatever I wanted. And I did. Who was going to stop me? My alcoholic mother? No one ever said, 'No, I won't let you do that. I care about you too much to let you hurt your future like that.' I wish I had then what you have now."
Christy instantly sobered. "I never thought of it that way."
"What are you going to do about Rick?"