He spoke the command in a lighthearted way, but the message was clear. Rick needed to be in control.

Does he have any idea how insulting he sounds? Is he doing this to me on purpose? Or is Doug right, and Rick really cares about me but can't show it because we broke up?

Christy obediently opened the door and slid into the comfortable, familiar pa.s.senger seat of Rick's red Mustang. She put his keys in the ignition and watched out the front windshield as Rick hugged Heather and Tracy good-bye. Then he hugged Katie.

The three girls hopped over to Christy's window and motioned for her to roll it down. She had been so absorbed with her confrontation with Rick that she hadn't even said good-bye to them.

Tracy reached her arms inside the open window and squeezed in to give Christy a hug around the neck. "Call me, okay?"

Heather waved and said, "I can't wait to see you on New Year's Day! We'll get all caught up then."

Christy waved as Heather and Tracy left. Katie opened the door, "Scoot forward. I'll get in the back."

Like a wildcat protecting her territory, Christy didn't move an inch. She stared at her clueless friend and in a low growl said, "Why can't you go with Doug and Mike?"

Katie looked amazed. Then, appearing to have caught on, she said, "You know, I love sitting in the front seat of that four-wheel-drive truck, sandwiched between two good-looking men, my legs all squished in such a dainty fashion. I much prefer it to riding in the backseat of this old clunker."

Katie called out to the guys who were saying good-bye to each other, "Hey, Doug, wait for me. I'm the peanut b.u.t.ter!" Rick turned and walked toward his Mustang with long strides, his expression stern. Christy felt her heart pounding. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

He lowered his large frame into the front seat and slammed his door. Without a word he reached for the keys. He seemed to know that Christy had put them in the ignition, as she had done on several occasions when they were dating.

The car roared to life, and Christy held on while Rick peeled out of his parking spot. He turned to look at Doug out of his side window and honked and waved while the car accelerated past Doug's truck.

Christy noticed a small car pulling into the parking lot. She yelled, "Lookout!"

The other car swerved to the left. Rick jerked the steering wheel to the right. The tires squealed. With another jerk, he turned the car and kept accelerating out of the parking lot. He changed lanes twice before coming to an abrupt stop at the red light by the mall.

Christy didn't dare say a word. She could hear Rick breathing heavily, and she knew he was mad. He drove to the section of the parking lot where Christy usually parked and found her car without saying anything. Conveniently, there was an empty s.p.a.ce next to Christy's car. Rick turned in with a squeal of the tires, slammed on the brakes, and cut the engine, all in one motion.

Suddenly, it was quiet. Very quiet. Miserably quiet.

Christy wanted to scramble out the door and escape to the safety of her own car. Then she'd show him that she could squeal her own tires as she peeled out of the parking lot and away from him.

She couldn't do that though, because she knew this was what she had wanted for months: a chance to talk to Rick. She didn't think it would happen like this or that both their emotions would be at full throttle when they finally connected. Maybe it was a bad idea. The timing was off. She should wait for a better time.

"You wanted to talk," Rick said. "What did you want to talk about?"

Christy felt awful. "About us," she said softly. "But not like this. I don't want to talk when we're both so upset."

"I'm not upset," Rick said gruffly. "You wanted to talk, so talk."

"IaI'm not sure I cana" Her throat swelled shut, and she couldn't say a word. It took a gigantic effort to keep back the sudden deluge of hot, p.r.i.c.kly tears.

They sat in silence for several minutes. Christy didn't dare move, lest the tears find a crack to slip through and spill down her cheeks.

Rick let out a deep sigh and in a calmer voice said, "I saw the car coming, Christy. I wasn't going to hit it."

"I know. I'm sorry."

'You don't trust me," Rick said. "You've never trusted me."

"That's not true."

'Yes it is. You don't trust me, and you've been afraid of me since the day we met. You never gave our relationship a chance." Christy tried to think of how to answer that. In some ways it was true. Rick overpowered her just because he was Rick. How could she explain that to him?

"Go ahead," Rick urged. "Admit that you never really made room in your heart for me."

Christy shook her head, trying to find the right words. Rick came on so strong. He made her feel things she had never felt with Todd. Todd would never push her like this. Why couldn't she talk to Rick the way she talked to Todd? Todd would understand her feelings.

"You never even gave me a chance, did you? Come on!" Rick raised his voice. "You don't trust me. Say it!". "That's not true. I do trust you, Todd."

Everything froze.

Todd! Oh no! I called him Todd! What have I done? Rick will never understand.

Rick stuck out his jaw and slowly turned his head away from Christy as if he had been slapped in the face. Calmly, he opened his car door and with even steps walked to Christy's side and opened her door.

She followed his unspoken instructions, still in shock that she had done such a thing.

He stood firm, a few inches from her, and calmly stated. "I'm not Todd. I'm Rick."

"IaI know, Rick. I'm sorry. I almost called a customer Mr. Grouch at work today," Christy began, but nothing she could say right now would make things better. "I don't know why I'm so mixed up with names today."

Rick acted like he hadn't heard her. With composure he said, "There will never be room for me or any other guy in your life until you've put him away."

He shut Christy's door, walked to his side of the car with deliberate steps, got in, and started up the engine. Before she could think of a way to stop him, he lurched the car from its parking spot and, with screeching wheels, sped away.

Christy's mind raced with thoughts of what to do. Part of her wanted to speed off after him and make him pull over his car and listen to her. She would find a way to make him understand and forgive her blunder. Another part of her wanted to give up on Rick forever and be done with running from him or chasing after him.

With trembling hands, she unlocked her car door and drove home cautiously, afraid of her own emotions. The most frightening thing was that she couldn't cry. She hurt too much to shed a single tear.

Maybe Rick was right. Maybe she had held on to the dream of Todd for too long. How could she move forward when her life was filled with memories of him? Before she reached home, Christy knew what she had to do.

She walked in the front door, said h.e.l.lo to her parents, and then rummaged in the garage until she found just the right size box. With another smile and a "good night" to her parents, she locked herself in her bedroom and began by tearing the poster from the back of her door.

It was a poster from Hawaiia"a certain memorable bridge over a waterfall. She tossed the gift from Todd in the box and went straight for her dresser, scooping up the Folgers coffee can, which held a dozen very dead carnationsa"the first flowers she had ever been given by a guy. The coconut he had mailed her from Hawaii was the next victim tossed into the open box. Then the cable car music box from San Francisco, which always made her think of Todd. Next, another gift from Todda"a tiny, blown-gla.s.s Tinkerbell figurine from Disneylanda"and then a T-shirt from her drawer that said "I Survived the Road to Hana."

Christy s.n.a.t.c.hed her Winnie the Pooh bear off her bed and was about to plunge him into the box when she stopped. Holding the pudgy stuffed animal at arm's length, she told him, "I'm sorry, but you have to go too."

She looked at the Todd mementos in the box and then explained to Pooh, "I can't have all of you whispering to me in my sleep, telling me fairy tales about Todd. I'm a big girl now. I can't believe in fairy tales anymore." Christy tightly hugged Pooh. "Don't you see? What happened tonight with Rick was my fault. I should have sent you all away long ago."

With one last kiss, Christy stuffed Pooh into the box and closed the lid. As a hot tear escaped, she slid the box under her bed and out of her heart.

feeling sad and alone. She ate some breakfast and then returned to her room to pack for the family's trip to the mountains. When the mail came, Mom brought three cards in for Christy. Christy examined the return addresses and opened the one postmarked Escondido.

It was a Christmas card from Teri Moreno, a girl from school Christy had met last year during the cheerleading tryouts. Teri wrote at the bottom of the card, "May your celebration of our Savior's birth be filled with joy."

Christy set it aside, feeling guilty for being in such an emotional slump. She opened the next card, which was from Alissa, an older girl she had met on the beach two summers ago. A long note on a separate sheet of paper fell out. Christy sat down to read it.

Dear Christy, I'm having so much fun preparing for Christmas here in Boston! Since this is the first Christmas since I became a Christian, everything means so much more than it ever did. My mom is doing pretty well She's gone without a drink for about three months. And she and my grandmother have been coming to church with me! I sent a present to baby Shawna yesterday. I think about her all the time and miss her so much. I know she belongs with her adoptive parents, and I know they love her as much as I do. Whenever I start to feel really bad about her, G.o.d gives me this unexplainable peace, and I feel like I can keep going. I pray for you all the time, Christy. I hope your Christmas is full of love, and joy, and peace.

Always, Alissa Christy stared at the letter, amazed. Alissa's father was dead, her mother was a recovering alcoholic, Alissa had given up her baby girl for adoption, and the baby's father had died in a surfing accident. If anyone had a reason to be depressed, it was Alissa.

Compared with her, Christy had it easy. Yet Christy was the depressed one, and Alissa sounded full of joy and hopea"at least on paper.

Christy had to admit that last summer when she sat beside Alissa on the beach and listened to her pray and ask G.o.d to forgive her and come into her heart, Christy had wondered if it was real. Now Alissa was trusting G.o.d for more things than Christy was.

Maybe that's my problem. I haven't prayed much about all the stuff going on in my life.

Not feeling quite ready to pray, Christy opened the third card, which was from Paula, her childhood friend in Wisconsin. Out tumbled a stack of photographs. They were pictures Paula had taken last summer when she and Christy were in Hawaii with Christy's mom, David, her aunt and uncle, and Todd. The first picture was a waterfall with a bridge across the top, the same waterfall in the poster Christy had taken off her door. The next picture was of Todd on the beach with his arm around a surfboard. David stood on the other side of the surfboard trying to imitate Todd and look cool. The sky and water in the background looked pure, blue, and inviting.

Christy stared at the pictures for a long time, reliving the memories they each held.

Paula's card was signed simply, Thought you might like a copy of these. Aloha and Merry Christmas! Paula.

Christy wondered how Paula was really doing and guessed from her brief note that she was keeping her life to herself these days.

Christy set the three cards on her dresser where the mementos that reminded her of Todd had been. She decided the pictures only made her think more about him, so she pulled the box out from under her bed and added the photos to the collection.

With a heavy sigh, she whispered, "I know I'm not being very cheerful about Your birthday, Jesus. I'll try to think more about You and trust You more to work out all my relationships."

During the two-hour drive up to the mountains on Wednesday, Christy tried extra hard to be nice to her brother. She played a license-plate game with him until the road started to seriously wind, and her stomach felt a little queasy.

"Are we almost there?" David asked. "Where's the snow?"

"These directions indicate we have about a half hour before we reach the Blue Jay turnoff. We should see snow pretty soon," Mom said.

"There's some!" David exclaimed, pointing to a small patch on the side of the hill.

When they arrived at the cabin, the ground was covered with snow, and David was beside himself with glee. He was the first one out of the car. Packing a s...o...b..ll with his bare hands, he threw it at the windshield and then quickly prepared another one for Dad as he got out of the car.

"Let's take our things in first; David," Dad said. "Looks like Bob and Marti are already here."

Christy stepped inside and gaped at the fully equipped, two-story deluxe home Bob and Marti had rented. It wasn't exactly the log cabin she had envisioned. She should have known. Her wealthy aunt and uncle were accustomed to the finer things in life, which included all the comforts of home wherever they went.

Marti stood on a small stepladder beside the fireplace, gingerly placing Christmas ornaments on a tree that reached to the vaulted ceiling.

"What do you think?" Marti leaned back slightly to admire her handiwork. "It's Santas this year."

Indeed, the entire tree was trimmed in a variety of Santa ornaments. Last year, Christy remembered, it had been lambs. Marti was the only person Christy knew who had a different theme for her Christmas tree every year.

"It's nice," Christy commented. "Are you all done? Do you need any help?"

"I believe I'm finished, dear. Wait until you see it with the lights plugged in. I used red lights this year. Gives the room a wonderful, festive glow."

Dad came in, carrying in a suitcase in each hand, "Christy, could you help your mom bring in the smaller bags? Where do you want us to put all this, Marti?"

Marti descended from her decorator's loft and pointed up the stairs. "I thought you and Margaret would enjoy the morning glory room. It's the second on the right. David is in the daisy room at the far end of the hall, and Christy is next to him in the violet room."

"The rooms have names?" Christy asked, curious to know if the house really came labeled that way or if her aunt's dramatic flair had affected everything in the house.

"Oh, yes! This is a bed-and-breakfast. Bob knows the owners, and they went to London for the holidays. He rented it from them for a song. You'll be favorably impressed with the accommodations, I think. A fireplace in nearly every bedroom!"

"I can't wait to see my room," Christy said.

"Don't forget to help me with the bags," Mom reminded Christy.

Marti added, "Then your mother and I need to make a quick run to the grocery store to stock up on food for the week."

Christy hurried to carry in the bags and waved good-bye as Mom and Marti took off for the store. With antic.i.p.ation, Christy grabbed her luggage and headed up the stairs to find her violet room.

She decided the first room on the right must be Bob and Marti's. In the center was a four-poster bed with a sheer canopy draped over the top and down the sides. Everything was in red roses and dark cherrywood.

She ventured on down the hall, the thick carpet crushing softly under her feet. The next room turned out to be her parents' morning glory room, with bright blue morning glories painted in a border trailing up the walls. The blue bedspread, rug, towels, and curtains lent the room a cheery look, and Christy knew her mom would like it.

Closing their door, she tiptoed across the hall, feeling as though she were exploring a great castle. The door on the left opened to reveal her violet room. Christy held her breath when she saw it.

It looked like something out of a storybook. In the corner, a fire glowed in the fireplace, and against the wall was a white wrought-iron daybed with a heart in the center of the back, frosted with a deliciously thick down comforter. Little bunches of violets were everywherea"violets tied with pink ribbon on the wallpaper, pressed violets in small, narrow frames on the nightstand, a soft blanket with embroidered violets over the antique trunk at the end of the bed, and even an oval throw rug by the door with a large clump of violets in the center.

But what captured Christy's heart was the window seat beneath the large double windows. It looked too enchanting to be real. She dropped her bags and approached the seat as if it would run away if she went too fast or startled it. Gently touching the narrow, cushioned seat and fingering the lace on the violet-covered throw pillows, she decided it was indeed real and hers for the next six days.

"Is the room to your liking, miss?" Bob asked, standing in her doorway.

"Oh, you startled me!" Christy said as she turned around. "Yes, it's gorgeous. I love it!"

Just then they heard hoots and hollers outside. Christy leaned her face close to the window and could see David pelting Dad with his meager supply of s...o...b..a.l.l.s. Bob joined Christy in spying on the war about to break out.

"Come on," he said, tagging Christy on the arm. "We can go out the back through the kitchen and ambush them."

"Let me find my gloves." Christy quickly rummaged in her bag and then slipped the gloves on as she galloped down the stairs behind Bob.

Like two secret agent scouts, Bob and Christy crept along the side of the house until they saw Dad and David rapidly tossing s...o...b..a.l.l.s at each other.

"All right, here's the plan," Bob whispered. "We need a fair supply of ammo before we rush them. Let's make a dozen b.a.l.l.s each, store them here, and then we'll carry as many others as we can and still throw."

Christy gave her uncle a playful salute and set to work on her dozen s...o...b..a.l.l.s. Next, she and Bob loaded more s...o...b..a.l.l.s in the crooks of their left arms.

"On my signal." Bob held up his right hand and watched for a break in the skirmish between Dad and David. "Okay, now!" he ordered, snapping down his hand and running into the fray, hollering and throwing s...o...b..a.l.l.s as if he were a ten-year-old.

Christy followed right behind him and lobbed her first shot at Dad. He was caught off guard, and the missile hit his right ear. David and Dad's surprise allowed Bob and Christy two more excellent shots before her brother and father retaliated. The battle raged, chilly and full of laughter, as Bob and Christy each took turns returning to the side of the house for ammo.

In a bold move, David cut across their lines, found their secret stash, and used the last few s...o...b..a.l.l.s on them. Bob managed to scoop an armful of snow down David's back before Dad called a truce.

Just then the car containing Marti and Mom turned into the long driveway.

"Quick," Bob said. "Everyone hide, and let's give the ladies a surprise welcome!"

David and Dad scrambled to hide together behind the family car while Bob slipped behind a tree. Not sure where to go, Christy headed for the side of the house but felt sure Mom and Marti had spotted her. She decided to play it cool and act as if she were out for a stroll.