Until Tomorrow Read online

  They all set to work unloading and cleaning up the camping gear with the assistance of one water hose and one rough scrub brush. It took all afternoon to clean everything, dry it in the warm afternoon breeze, and repack. Christy noticed that Todd and Katie were working almost side by side. After they finished, Todd challenged Katie to a game of chess, and they sat under the shade trees, heads bent close in serious contemplation of the board.

  “Can I help your mom get dinner ready?” Christy finally asked Tonio after she got tired of watching Todd and Katie.

  “No. She is not so comfortable with someone else in her kitchen.”

  A few minutes later Antonio’s father came in from working the fields. It was nearly sunset. Christy thought Antonio’s father seemed stern, or maybe he was tired. He was shorter than Antonio and more muscular. He welcomed them to his table warmly and had Antonio ask them questions while they ate. One of the questions he directed to Christy was “Where did you get your beautiful eyes? From your father or your mother?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe from both of them,” Christy said, feeling her cheeks warm.

  “My father says they are the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen.” Antonio smiled. “And he is right.”

  Christy lowered her head and concentrated on her pasta. She felt as if everyone was watching her. Tilting her head and glancing up at Antonio’s father shyly, she said, “Molte grazie, signore.”

  “Ahh!” Antonio’s father exclaimed with surprise at the way she thanked him so politely in Italian. He rattled off more quick words and playfully swatted Antonio on the arm, pointing at Christy and swatting him again.

  “What did he say?” Christy asked cautiously.

  Tonio looked embarrassed. He answered his father in Italian, and suddenly Tonio’s parents both turned to Todd with surprised expressions.

  Todd gave Tonio a half grin and said, “What did you say? What am I missing here?”

  Looking at his plate, Antonio used his hands along with his English as he interpreted for his American friends. “My father asked why I have not proposed to Christy already. I told him she was your girlfriend.”

  Christy looked at Todd. This is it, Todd. Go ahead. Tell them you’re crazy about me. Tell them you can’t live without me. Let me hear you say it.

  Todd hesitated. Christy knew Todd was open-ended about much of life, and several times he had let her know she was free to come and go from their relationship as she pleased. And she had done that. And so had Todd. But was he ready now to publicly close at least one of those open ends? All he had to do was declare that Christy was his girlfriend.

  As everyone looked at Todd, Christy pressed her lips together and waited.

  With a trademark chin-up gesture Todd said, “Please tell your father I’m flattered by his question.”

  What is that supposed to mean?

  At first Antonio’s father looked surprised at Todd’s vague response. Then a smile grew, and he nodded his head. With a deep chuckle, he shook his finger at Todd and merrily rattled off a string of Italian words.

  Christy wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the interpretation from Antonio.

  “My father says you have learned early in life the secret, which is to always keep a woman guessing.”

  Oh yeah, that’s Todd’s specialty. Always keep a woman guessing. And where does that put our relationship? Obviously not as far along as I thought it was.

  Something inside Christy squeezed shut. The hurt in her heart pounded on that invisible shut door. It was an old, familiar hurt.

  Don’t do this, Christy. Don’t sink into this depression. He’s not rejecting you. He’s just being his usual, noncommittal self. You and Todd have been through five years of a very special kind of friendship. A forever friendship. For now, that should be enough for you.

  But deep inside, Christy wanted so much more.

  5

  Christy woke the next morning to the sound of a car horn in front of Antonio’s farmhouse. She slipped out of bed while Katie slept and padded across the rug to the halfway open window. Pulling back the white lace curtains, she peered out at the taxi that had pulled into the driveway.

  A tall, slender Italian about Antonio’s age was paying the driver. The passenger wore dark, straight jeans and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Christy stared at the handsome, dark-haired stranger.

  “Ciao!” he called out as he turned and apparently spotted Christy at the window. Then he waved with one hand, lifted his suitcase with the other, and headed toward her. She quickly pulled back, letting the curtains shade her from his view.

  “Katie!” Christy whispered, hopping over to the bed and shaking her sleeping friend. “Katie, wake up.” pbn “What?” Katie sounded grouchy, as she usually did first thing in the morning.

  “Katie, you have to see this guy. I think your order for tall, dark, and handsome just arrived!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Come here. Get up.” Christy pulled on Katie’s arm. “Quick, before he comes in the house.”

  Katie groaned, “Why can’t you ever leave me alone when I’m sleeping?”

  A voice behind Christy made her jump and turn away from Katie. “Ciao.” The visitor was standing at their bedroom window. Since there was no screen, he simply had raised the window the rest of the way and pushed back the curtains with his hand.

  Katie screamed, but he laughed and spoke to them in Italian.

  Christy self-consciously wrapped her arms around her baggy nightshirt and quickly reverted to her emergency response, “Ich verstehe nicht.”

  The visitor spoke to her in German.

  Katie grabbed Christy’s arm and said, “Who is this guy, and what in the world is he saying?”

  He laughed again and said in English, “I know who you are now. You are Antonio’s American friends, aren’t you? I have heard about you. Are you Christiana?”

  Christy nodded.

  “And you are Katie. Ciao, Katie.”

  “Yeah, hi,” she said, pulling the bed sheets up to her neck.

  A knock on their bedroom door interrupted the awkward introductions, and Antonio entered, speaking Italian with their visitor and using lots of hand gestures.

  “You have met my cousin Marcos?” Antonio asked Katie and Christy.

  “Sort of,” Katie said.

  “He’s on his way to Rome. You want to go with him?”

  Ten minutes later Christy was seated in the kitchen, sipping strong coffee and eating round rolls that were soft inside and crusty on the outside. Around her swirled a lively conversation, partly in English and partly in Italian. Spontaneous plans for the next part of the journey came together effortlessly.

  Marcos had arrived by way of an early-morning train that enabled him to stop in for a quick visit with his relatives. Since he was on his way to Rome, the three “Americanos” could join him. Marcos would show them the sights after he made a delivery to one of his father’s clients.

  “We better pack,” Katie said when she found out the train to Rome left in an hour. “I still have clothes out on the line.”

  Christy glanced at good-looking Marcos and found his gaze was fixed on her. She looked away quickly, feeling her cheeks warm with embarrassment. It was the fourth time during breakfast that she had glanced at him, and each time he was gazing at her.

  “Care to join me?” Katie said, rising from the kitchen table and tugging on Christy’s arm.

  “Sure.” She rose and carried her dishes to the sink despite Antonio’s mother’s protests. “Grazie,” Christy told her and comfortably received the woman’s kiss on her cheek. Christy had gotten used to a lot of cheek kissing during her time in Europe, and she gracefully kissed Antonio’s mom back, thanking her again in Italian.

  Katie hung back, offering a stiff nod and saying, “Thanks for the chow.”

  The two of them turned to exit the kitchen, and Christy glanced at Todd. He was looking at her. She quickly swept her gaze past Marcos. Marcos was m
ore than looking at her. He was watching her every move.

  As soon as Christy and Katie were out the back door and away from the open kitchen window, Katie grabbed Christy by the elbow and yanked her around the side of the house by the clothesline. “What in the world are you doing?”

  Christy couldn’t believe how red Katie’s face was. “What do you mean? I’m not doing anything.”

  “Oh yes, you are! You’re flirting with Marcos right in front of Todd! What are you thinking? I’ve never seen you like this, Christy.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “What am I talking about?” Katie lifted her hands in a gesture of disbelief. “We’re all sitting around the table talking, and all you’re doing is taking tiny little bites of bread, and after each bite, you look at Marcos.”

  “I wasn’t doing that.”

  “Trust me, that’s exactly what you were doing. And then you would sip your coffee and pretend he wasn’t staring at you. Did you even notice Todd sitting there, watching you flirt?”

  “Katie, I was not flirting!” Christy lowered her voice and looked right and left to make sure they were still alone. “I don’t know what you thought you saw in there or what you’re thinking now, but I wasn’t doing anything.”

  Katie shook her head. “Then that had to be the most intense case of subconscious flirting I’ve ever seen. I mean, I’m the first to admit that the guy is absolutely gorgeous, but come on, I could feel the heat passing between the two of you.”

  Christy felt baffled by Katie’s statements. “I didn’t feel any heat.”

  “You are so naïve.”

  “I am not.”

  “Just do me a favor,” Katie said, going over to the line and yanking off her stiff, dried clothes. “Don’t do it.”

  “Don’t do what?” Christy felt her anger rising.

  “Don’t pull a Rick Doyle on us. Not now. You’re smarter than that.” With a swish of her red hair, Katie turned and marched off, her arms full of clothes.

  Christy stood frozen in place, her mouth open in disbelief. What was that all about? She knows Rick was a big-mistake crush . . . how many years ago? Four? And what’s more, Katie made the same mistake herself when she fell for Rick!

  Christy aggressively pulled her clothes off the line and marched back into the house through the front door to avoid seeing anyone in the kitchen. She made a beeline for the guest bedroom and closed the door soundly behind her. Katie stood five feet away, jamming her clothes into her travel bag.

  “That was completely unfair and mean,” Christy growled at Katie. “Why are you mad at me? You wouldn’t be acting mean unless you were mad at me.”

  “I’m not mad,” Katie said without stopping her quick packing job. “Can we just forget it? They’re going to be ready to go, and I don’t want them waiting for us because we’re sitting here having a fight.”

  Christy was so mad now she could hardly think straight. I can’t believe this is happening! Why is Katie being like this?

  Katie zipped up her bag and, without looking at Christy, lugged it to the door. “I’ll be out front with the others.”

  Slumping down on the edge of the bed, Christy stared at the stiff pair of jeans she held in her lap and tried to calm down. She knew Katie well enough to realize pressing her to talk when she wasn’t ready would be a mistake.

  Why would she say all that? Was I unconsciously flirting? Was Marcos really staring at me like Katie said? Did Todd think I was flirting with Marcos?

  Of course Christy had been aware of Marcos’s steady gaze at the breakfast table. But that didn’t mean she was flirting with him, did it?

  I sure don’t get stares like that from Todd. Am I feeling sorry for myself because Todd didn’t take a stand about our relationship last night? The way Marcos looked at me this morning is the way I’ve always wanted Todd to look at me.

  A knock on the door pulled Christy away from her evaluating. “Yes?”

  The door opened, and to her surprise, Marcos stepped into the room with a grin on his face. His deep brown eyes met Christy’s. “Do you need some help?”

  Christy felt her heart pounding. “No. Thanks. I’m fine. I can get it. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “It’s no problem. I will wait and carry your luggage for you.”

  Christy pushed her clothes into her bag and nervously tugged at the zipper.

  “Here, let me get that for you.” Marcos stepped over to her side and reached for the stuck zipper.

  Christy pulled away. She felt self-conscious and nervous about this guy, who was acting as if he had free access into her private space. “Thanks,” she said, grabbing her day pack and making sure she hadn’t left anything on the dresser. “I’ll go on out with the others.” With that, Christy left Marcos to wrestle her bigger bag out of the house.

  She found Todd and Katie loading their luggage into the back of Antonio’s clean minivan. Christy said good-bye to Antonio’s mom with another kiss on the cheek and then claimed the front passenger seat. She certainly didn’t want to be in the back of the bus with Marcos and Katie while Todd sat in the front seat.

  As Antonio steered his van down the bumpy road, Christy kept looking straight ahead. This is all my fault for making such a scene about leaving the campground. If we were still there, we wouldn’t be on our way to Rome with a guy who makes me incredibly nervous. Katie wouldn’t be mad at me. Todd wouldn’t be ignoring me. At least Antonio is still speaking to me.

  “Do you like Rome?” Christy asked Antonio, trying to start a conversation.

  “Yes, very much. But I’m not going with you.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No,” Antonio said, “I do not have money for travel.”

  Christy realized then that the camping hadn’t cost anything. Even the fish were free. “What if we all pitched in and gave you some money?”

  Antonio took his eyes off the road and smiled at Christy. “You sound sad because I am not going with you. That’s nice, Christiana.”

  “I am sorry,” she said, turning her attention back on the road and hoping Antonio would do the same. She couldn’t figure out why Antonio could be sweet and flirty with her yet she never felt uncomfortable. He had been that way with all the girls when he was in California, and they all had loved it and called him the “romantic Italian.” It felt different with Marcos.

  Why? Because he’s exceptionally good-looking? He must know how handsome he is. Does Marcos just expect all women to swoon over him? Or is it me? Am I somehow looking for more attention? What’s going on?

  Antonio pulled the minivan into an illegal parking place near the train station and left the motor running as he worked to unload their luggage. Christy felt sorry that they didn’t get to stay and explore Cremona.

  “Christiana,” Antonio said, motioning for her to come around to the other side of the van, away from the others. In a low voice he said, “I told this to Todd and Katie while you were in the house. When I came home from California, I told Marcos about the decision I made in America to dedicate my life to Christ. Marcos said he is not ready to make the same choice. I think your going to Roma with him is what Katie calls a God-thing. This is the reason we left the camp. You can show Marcos God’s love the way you showed me, and I am sure he will decide soon.”

  Christy felt her stomach tightening. “I wish you were going with us.”

  Antonio kissed her soundly on both cheeks. “Maybe you will come see me again before you leave Europe. You are welcome any time.”

  “Thank you so much, Tonio.” Christy felt the tears welling up in her eyes. “Grazie.”

  “Prego,” he said. “I will be praying.”

  “And I’ll pray for you, my friend. Ciao!”

  “Arrivederci,” Tonio said, handing Christy her luggage. He then hurried over to say good-bye to the others.

  Christy suddenly realized how selfless Tonio was being. She knew he had gone to school in California at the expense of a generous uncle. Marcos’s f
ather, perhaps? Antonio’s family obviously lived very modestly. The camping trip had been Antonio’s vacation. A very inexpensive vacation. When Christy had complained and they had left the campground, that meant the end of Antonio’s vacation, even though he didn’t give any hint of it at the time. Christy wished again that she hadn’t complained.

  She followed the others into the train station and watched as Marcos arranged for them to pay extra on their Eurorail train passes so they could ride with him in first class. Marcos offered to pay for all of them, but Todd told Marcos they would rather pay. Christy chimed in with Todd and insisted on paying. Marcos held up his hands in surrender, and the three of them each paid for their first-class passes.

  “Well,” Katie said under her breath to Christy as they hurried to the train track. “He sure gave in when you told him how you wanted things to be.”

  Christy pressed her lips together and tried not to let herself become angry with Katie all over again. “Can we not do this, Katie?”

  “What?”

  “Pick at each other. I don’t want to fight with you.”

  Katie looked down. Todd called for them to come on. “Okay,” Katie said and took off for the train.

  As they boarded, Christy tried to let go of her frustration with Katie and everything else. She felt little bubbles of excitement building up inside her. She loved traveling on the trains in Europe and had been looking forward to this part of the adventure.

  Christy made sure she was seated next to Todd on the nicely upholstered train seat. Katie and Marcos sat on a matching seat directly across from them. Their luggage was stowed on shelves over their heads, and the four of them had the small, first-class compartment to themselves.

  “How long will it take to get to Rome?” Katie asked.

  “About five hours,” Marcos said.

  “That long?” Katie said.

  “We could stop in Florence, if you like. I do not have to meet with my father’s client until tomorrow morning.”