Chapter 16: Christine's Solace
Tucson - New Year's Eve 2004/Early Winter 2005
Their two bedroom apartment sat on the foothills of the Catalina Mountains. Every sunset bounced back rusty oranges and shadowy hues of purples and grays off the red, desert sands of Tucson. The air was fresh, warm, and clean. The groves of orange trees filled the New Years' Eve day with sweet citrus. Christine's physical therapy had been positively progressing in just the short six weeks upon their move to Arizona. Through a few connections, Nadir was able to track down an Army veteran who established and ran a physical therapy office for returning service members in need of physical healing. Dr. Guillermo Santos was known to push patients hard while building up not just physical endurance but mental and emotional endurance as well. He was tough, and his attitude and bluntness was much appreciated by Christine.
Nadir was impressed with the progress Christine had made, how determined she had become to reclaim some semblance of her previous self. As much as she had battled back, something was still amiss. The glow and passion she had once had for music was, at best, a tiny glimmer that would quickly fade into the background as memories from the past year came forward. Once attached to Gus' guitar and avidly learning how to play, Christine kept the guitar housed in its case, collecting dust and begging to be played once again. Anytime Christine would attempt to draw near to it and open the hinges of the case, her fingers would grow achingly cold and her eyes would close, and her feet would turn her away in retreat. The music that had once fueled her and kept her going was now dormant.
As evening fell on New Years Eve, Christine found Nadir fast asleep on the couch with one of the many college bowl games broadcast on the television. "Uncle Nadir?" Christine spoke softly, nudging him gently to rouse him from his slumber. "Hey, Uncle Nadir?" A snort, a groan, and a fart escaped from Nadir and Christine chuckled.
"Hmmm? Huh, oh, oh hey kid, what's up?" he sleepily responded.
"I was gonna go to the bookstore up the street for a little bit. You want anything?"
"Nah, I'm good, thanks. Take your phone. Be careful."
"Always. I'll text you when I'm on my way home. Love you."
"Love you more."
It was a quick 20 minute drive to the local cafe bookstore. A hole-in-the-wall little corner shop that housed old books, rare prints, and an intimately endearing coffee corner. Christine entered taking in the smells of fresh coffee and cinnamon-scented pastries. What drew her attention, however, was a young man sitting on the makeshift stage in the back, a newsboy cap perched lopsided upon a buzz cut hairstyle, and a perfectly weathered acoustic guitar snuggling in his lap. The voice of this young man caused Christine to hold her breath, her knees buckled. This voice sounded so familiar… so dark, so low, so deep, so raw. It sounded like him. It looked like him. No, it couldn't possibly be him. The young man glanced up from his fingers strumming away, his eyes locking on to Christine as she sunk into the worn down couch.
The young man propped the guitar against the stool and stepped off the stage. Christine watched him carefully as he grabbed a large mug of hot tea. Feeling her eyes on him, the young man granted her a shy side grin and tipped his cap. Again she swallowed the lump in her throat. And again, her heart and mind were at odds. It's not him. No it can't be. Go talk to him. No! You felt this way the first time you saw Kevin. No! Stop it! Yes, introduce yourself. "Shut up," Christine growled quietly under her breath as she sprung to her feet but her leg seared in agony. Too much weight with too much sharp movement caused her months-old injuries to scream. Her knee buckled, sending her forward as her hand lurched out to catch herself from falling onto the low table in front of her. "Whoa whoa, easy, easy there. I got you," a voice stated behind her as she felt long, calloused fingers gently grasp her arms to stabilize her back to her feet. Those hands guided her steadily back down onto the couch. Christine huffed with embarrassment, "Thanks. Sorry."
"No need to apologize. I'm glad I was here to prevent you from eating the floor," he chuckled. "I'm Jeremy, by the way. Mediocre guitarist, barely tolerable singer," he said as he extended a handshake and sat in the oversized armchair adjacent to the couch.
"Christine," she replied with a brief handshake. "And… you have a nice voice, better than you give yourself credit for." She nestled into the couch and pulled her bag next to her.
"Ha! Well thanks, but I'm guessing you're not a musician. Anyone else would know better." And that gave Christine a chance to laugh.
"Well my dad was a music teacher, so he taught me a lot. I'm no professional, but you're really good." This piqued Jeremy's interest.
"Oh yeah? Do you play anything? Do you sing?"
Christine cast her eyes downward shyly. "Um, I do… I mean, I did… it's been a while." She glanced up longingly at the guitar propped up against the stool on the stage. She felt her fingers tingle. Music was calling to her. Jeremy noticed.
"Come on, let's hear it," Jeremy said as he got up and extended a hand. "Let's see what you got. I'll try to keep up." Christine swallowed nervously. It had been too long since she had sung or played… too long since music died the night of the accident, along with whatever hopes to meet him she had. Jeremy sat at the piano while Christine nestled the guitar into her arms, her fingers trembling. She looked apprehensively at Jeremy. "I can't do this," she whispered.
"Give me a key," he smiled reassuringly.
"D flat major," she said staring at the strings and positioned her fingers to the major chord. And somehow, in some way, she opened her mouth to sing.
The branches have traded
Their leaves for white sleeves
All warm blooded creatures make ghosts as they breathe
Scarves are wrapped tightly like gifts under trees
Christmas lights tangle in knots annually
All families huddle closely
Betting warmth against the cold
All the bruises seem to surface
Like mud beneath the snow
So we sing carols softly
As sweet as we know
A prayer that our burdens will lift as we go
Like young love still waiting under mistletoe
We'll welcome December with tireless hope
Let our bells keep on ringing
Making angels in the snow
And may the melody disarm us
When the cracks begin to show
Like the petals in our pockets
May we remember who we are
Unconditionally cared for
By those who share our broken hearts
The bookstore fell completely silent, the clinking of glasses and plates and silverware ceased. Christine's eyes closed in reverence under the soft chords beneath her fingers. Her voice soaring tenderly through the room, all she could see was Erik, his body sitting at a piano, his back turned towards her, his face hidden. She could see him, and a faint smile graced her lips.
The table is set
And all glasses are full
The pieces go missing
May we still feel whole
We'll build new traditions in place of the old
Cause life without revision will silence our souls
Let the bells keep on ringing
Making angels in the snow
And may the melody surround us
When the cracks begin to show
Like the petals in our pockets
May we remember who we are
Unconditionally cared for
By those who share our broken hearts
Jeremy stopped playing, but Christine hadn't noticed. She was lost, gone within the notes she sang. She could still see him.
As gentle as feathers
The snow piles high
Our world gets rewritten and retraced every time
Like fresh plates and clean slates
Our future is white
New Year's resolutions are reset tonight
She strummed the last chord achingly slow as she opened her eyes to see an ocean of watchful faces before her. She bent her head down to the side to shield her tears. Applause erupted in deafening waves catching Christine completely off guard.
"Thank you," she mumbled above a whisper in the microphone and again attempted to spring off the stage, her knee immediately buckling under the uneven pressure and she stumbled forward. And again, there was Jeremy helping her restabilize, holding her. And for the first time since they first locked eyes, Christine didn't look away and maintained her gaze, swimming in the depths of Jeremy's greenish grey eyes.
The evening drew later and later, and Christine's phone chimed. Nadir. "Shit, I'm sorry, I lost track of time. I have to go. It's my Uncle, he's wondering where I am," Christine quickly wrangled her belongings and grabbed her keys.
"Ok, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kept talking your ear off. Can I walk you to your car?" Jeremy the perpetually kind gentleman. The two walked through the parking lot to the old pickup truck which used to be Gustav's. "It was a sincere pleasure meeting you, Christine. I truly hope and pray God blesses you tonight and protects you on your drive home."
"Um, yeah, you too. I'll, uh, send you a text sometime, and probably see you on campus next week," she responded. "Good night, and thanks." She shuffled into the driver's seat and watched Jeremy saunter off towards his Jeep. She could barely make out the bumper stickers on his car until she flicked on her lights, "Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you: Jesus Christ for your sins and the American soldier for your freedom" and the other "Operation Iraqi Freedom Veteran."
The quick drive home, Christine wondered so many things: why hadn't he mentioned he was in the Army? He didn't even mention what he was going to school for? How did I not ask those questions?
"Hey, there you are. You had me worried, but I'm glad you're home," Nadir said somewhat hurriedly. He had made a vow to never fail her again, and if that meant keeping close watch, then so be it.
"I know, I'm sorry, I should have called. It's just that, tonight, it was… I was… I sang," she stammered. "For the first time in almost a year, I sang." Nadir wanted to ask so many questions but he could tell Christine's pain was getting to her so he offered up her meds and watched as she closed her bedroom door to sleep in the New Year.
# # #
It was about a week before the Spring semester was to begin at the University of Arizona and Christine was nervous. It had also been a week since the open mic night at the bookstore. Christine sat at the kitchen table staring at the blank text message in front of her, her mind working furiously if she should send a message to Jeremy or not. She glanced up to see Nadir eyeing her questioningly. "What's going on in that head of yours, kiddo? You've been awfully distracted since New Year's Eve. I haven't seen you this aloof since that masked fellow." Nadir immediately regretted bringing him up. If looks could kill, he would've been dead 1,000 times over and then some.
"It's nothing. Just nervous to start the semester." Well that was a lie. Sighing in apprehension, she typed a message.
Hi, it's Christine from the bookstore. Good luck with the semester. No, that sounded stupid. She deleted the text. Hi, it's Christine from open mic night. Happy New Year. That sounded stupid, too. Her phone vibrated with a new notification.
Hi Christine! This is Jeremy from the bookstore's open mic night. Hope you're having a great start to the New Year. Good luck starting the semester!
She needed the privacy of her room as she noticed Nadir's questioning eye again.
Hey, thanks, you too. How is everything?
Going great! And you?
Hard to say. I miss PA. I can't stop thinking about Erik. I need someone to talk to who isn't Nadir. No one seems to understand. Christine laughed at the absurdity of it as she deleted her typing. Instead she sent: Good to hear. I'm doing fine.
She almost dropped the phone as it vibrated an incoming call. Jeremy. "Hello?"
"I figured I'd call rather than text. I hope that's ok."
"Uh, yeah, that's fine." Long silent awkward pause. "So…" Another pause. "What's up?"
"So the bookstore is having another open mic night tomorrow starting at nine. You want to go?"
"Are you going to make me sing again?" she blurted out a little too tinged with annoyance.
"HA! No not this time, although I'm sure the people from last time will want an encore. I just figured we could meet up and hang out."
"Fair enough. See you tomorrow."
# # #
"I'm heading to the bookstore later tonight," Christine stated at dinner the next evening.
"Oh, ok, I didn't know you had plans," Nadir sighed. "Look, Christine, you're an adult and you'll do what you want. I'm just… I'm concerned. You haven't been yourself since New Year's Eve, you seem…" his hesitation heavy. "You seem distracted. Are you ok?"
"I know, I can't really explain it. I feel angry… like there's this thing inside me that keeps me angry. And," God this was hard, another thing to add to the list of things to physically heal from, "the migraines are getting more frequent. I'm guessing you've noticed."
Nadir nodded in confirmation. "Just last week you had three; usually you've been averaging maybe one every two to three weeks. What's going on, kid?"
"I don't know and they're happening at night. Maybe I should call the doc." And again, Nadir nodded in confirmation. "Get in soon, kid. But enjoy tonight. Do you want some company?"
"No it's ok."
# # #
A few hours later found Christine and Jeremy sitting across a table, nursing some hot tea. "You know," Christine hesitated, "I noticed your bumper stickers last week. You haven't mentioned you're in the Army."
Jeremy grew quiet. "I was… I got out last year after my last deployment in Iraq." His eyes distant, downcast.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I get it. Both my dad and uncle are Vietnam vets." Jeremy perked up at this. "They don't… didn't… well Dad never talked about it. Nadir casually mentions it but nothing in detail." A heavy silence fell between them. "What did you do in the Army, if it's ok to ask?"
"I was a Chaplain." Christine shifted uncomfortably. "But right now I'm nearing completion of my doctorate in psychology with a concentration in counseling." Her relationship and questioning God had been an internal riotous battle since Gustav's death and exacerbated further with Kevin. Jeremy's chuckle caught her off guard. "Something I said?"
"No, I'm just… surprised. You seem too young to be a chaplain."
"I'll take that as a compliment. I'm 33. I was in JROTC in high school and then was in ROTC in undergrad. I was basic administrative support during active duty and pursuing my graduate degree in theology right before terrorist attacks. I graduated the summer before and immediately deployed with my unit to Iraq and served as a Chaplain for my unit."
"How long were you there?"
"Too long." Another heavy silence fell between them before Jeremy spoke again. "So what about you, Christine?"
"Oh, me? Uh, well, there's not really anything to tell. Moved here with my godfather about two weeks after Thanksgiving from Pennsylvania. Not much else to tell."
"You'll tell me when you're ready," Jeremy casually mentioned and Christine looked at him curiously. How could he have known? And why would he even care?
Winter 2005
"So what's his name, kid?" Nadir inquired skeptically. Christine glanced up from her homework and blushed.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she responded and glanced back at her homework.
"You have a terrible poker face."
Christine grumbled inaudibly and huffed out an aggravated sigh. "It's nothing," as she rubbed her temples with the balls of her palms. Nadir watched concerned as Christine went to the kitchen medicine cabinet and grabbed three Excedrin migraine. "I need to go lay down."
"Did you call the doctor yet? This is the second one this week." Christine nodded no. "I'm calling and making the appointment for you. This can't wait."
# # #
The next week found Christine sitting impatiently at the doctor's office. Her phone chimed with a text message.
Hi! Haven't seen you around campus this week. Hope you're ok. There's an open mic night at the bookstore if you're interested. Let me know!
"Christine Daae?" Christine glanced up to see the nurse and was escorted to a private room. Blood pressure. Fine. Temperature. Fine. Heart rate. Fine. "Okay, the doctor will be right with you." A few minutes passed and Christine grabbed her phone and began typing a message.
I probably have a brain tumor or something. Who cares… The door opened and in walked the doctor. She honestly meant to delete the message but accidently pressed send instead and silenced her phone. About 20 minutes later, Christine walked out to the car, a script in hand for an immediate MRI. Pulling out her phone, she noticed two missed calls and two text messages from Jeremy. She called Nadir first to explain the doctor wanted her to go to the emergency room and get in for the MRI. Nadir was in the car in a heartbeat.
This day had gone down the wrong path since she woke up. And sitting in a busy ER didn't help matters. The smells of the hospital, the sounds of the intercom announcements, flashing ambulance lights, the sounds of sirens shook Christine to her core, reminiscent of that horrific night a year ago. "Christine Daae?" chimed an orderly. "Follow me please." The paperwork took even longer and then there was more waiting. Finally, three hours later found Christine and Nadir waiting for the results of the MRI. "We can't see any cranial swelling or anything like that, which is great news. I suggest making changes - no caffeine, more water, and more sleep. But we'll make sure to share these results with your primary care and we'll go from there. You're free to go."
Exiting the hospital and walking to the parking garage, Nadir asked, "Are you ok to drive home, or do you want to come back later and get the truck?"
"No, I'm fine. I just want to go home. Ironically, I can feel a migraine coming on."
Christine sat in the garage for a while, staring at her phone, reading the messages from Jeremy. Here's my address. Can you come over in an hour?
Is it ok with your godfather? I don't want to disrespect him by intruding, Christine. Are you ok?
I don't really know. Can you come? I need someone to talk to.
Of course. See you in an hour. Praying you're ok.
Christine walked into the apartment to find Nadir putting on some tea. Excedrin Migraine waiting for consumption. "A friend is coming over in about 45 minutes. His name is Jeremy. I met him at the bookstore on New Year's Eve. He got me to sing at its open mic night. He's an army veteran, deployed to Iraq. He's a chaplain… or was."
Nadir held his breath as Christine's eye bore into him. The nonstop verbal onslaught of fact after fact after fact. "Christine, what's going on?"
"I don't know, but I trust him." Christine took the pills and sat stoically at the table with Nadir at her side sipping their tea, waiting for Jeremy's arrival.
A knock came at the door a little later and Christine opened it to greet Jeremy. She quietly greeted him and Jeremy responded with a very timid and cautious hello. Jeremy extended a nervous hand to Nadir, who appeared behind Christine, eyeing this stranger with apprehension and skepticism. "Mr. Khan, I'm Jeremy Loughlin. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Christine speaks very highly of you."
"Thank you, Jeremy. Welcome, please come in." The three sat at the kitchen table in silence. "Tea, Jeremy?"
"No thank you, sir. Water is fine, sir." Nadir handed Jeremy a cold glass and he let the cold liquid calm the knot in his throat. "I sincerely appreciate the invitation to your home; however, I must ask Christine… what am I doing here?" Nadir let out an airy chuckle and looked at Christine.
"I wanted to tell you what's happening… and explain… these." Christine shifted in her chair to shrug off her draped cardigan over her tank top and pulled up her skirt to mid-thigh, exposing the angry white scars. Jeremy's eyes raked over Christine's side, questioning why he hadn't noticed before. "When you mention you were a chaplain," her voice interrupted his sorrowful gaze, "I was uncomfortable at first. I have been struggling so much for so long, and I'm angry… I'm so angry." Her voice trailed off into a tone of sorrowful reverence, she confided in Jeremy what it was like to lose Gustav, she stoically spoke of Kevin and their relationship, the night of the accident. She couldn't quite bring herself to mention Erik or the music he breathed to life in her. The hours passed as Jeremy sat and listened. At some point along the way the conversation moved from kitchen table to the comfort of the living room couches and recliners. It was almost midnight by the time Christine's story came to an incomplete conclusion, the finale of her young life's events yet to be written and spoken.
Jeremy let out a sigh. "Christine, I'm sorry you've had to go through so much within the past few years. And I understand why you're so angry with God."
Nadir chimed in as the men watched Christine quickly fading with exhaustion and sleep. "I should get her to bed" and went to wake her. Instead, Jeremy nodded and proceeded to lift Christine off the couch and carried her to her room, with Nadir walking behind. Jeremy placed her gently onto her bed and covered her with a blanket. As he turned to leave, a pile of open sketchbooks on a side table at the foot of Christine's bed caught his eye. There, staring up at him from the stark white pages, was the face of a young man, eyes burning with such an intensity, and half his face hidden away under a mask. Quizzically he picked up one of the books and looked questioningly at Nadir. "Who is this?" he whispered. Nadir sighed apprehensively, "Come with me." The two headed back to the kitchen table. It was the first time since the name Erik was uttered in almost a year.
Confessions from an exhausted body haunted Christine's slumber this night. One name. One man. One masked figure. Erik. For the first time in many months, Erik haunted her dreams. A confession of memories and of unspoken secrets to be learned. She felt his heated kisses seductively trailing her jaw, her neck. She felt his tongue lightly suckle the hollow of her throat, her panting becoming strained with desire, aching for more. His fingers tracing every contour of her shoulders trailing ever so gently around the curves of her breasts. The nip of teeth biting at the base of her neck caused her to gasp in fear. Long, soft fingers turning hard, short. Searing pain of a familiar one's hands gripping the base of her throat. Choking. She wanted to shout in pain to stop, stop the assault. "Please, Erik, no… stop" she whispered in her sleep. The voice of the man above her growled, "Erik's not here. It's me, it's Kevin… Erik abandoned you. Erik is no more. You're mine. MINE." Kevin's hands pressed harder and deeper into her throat. "Can't… breathe…" she gasped. "ERIK!" she shouted as her body shot up, her eyes wide in panic. Her breathing hard, getting her bearings in the darkness of her room.
She carefully got up from her bed, walked towards her desk to flip the ceiling fan switch on. Her sweat beading along her forehead, she looked down to turn the soft-lit desk lamp off when her eyes met his. His face staring at her, pleading with her, begging her for forgiveness. "You abandoned me," she whispered closing the book, and stumbled back to her bed.
Late Spring 2005
The weather became increasingly warmer as the mild winter gave way to the desert blooms of spring. The spring semester was in full swing with Christine taking six classes to get caught up. Her and Jeremy had been growing closer with every passing week. The spring found the duo outside under orange trees on the University of Arizona's campus, sitting together on a bench with their guitars, Jeremy carefully instructing Christine on positions and playing. The question loomed in Jeremy's mind after his conversation with Nadir just a few weeks ago about Christine's masked friend named Erik. Nadir was respectful and wouldn't dive into all the details without Christine's permission, yet Jeremy was determined to get to the heart, quite literally, on the matter.
By April, a development had occurred within Jeremy's doctorate program. He had an opportunity to go on a mission trip to Kenya for the entire summer before defending his thesis in December. Christine wasn't happy. "How will I survive summer without you?" she asked innocently enough.
"I think you'll survive. You said you were going to take a bunch of classes this summer to catch up so you can graduate in December. You've been working really hard, and I know your dad would have been very proud of you."
Christine chuckled. "I guess. The bookstore won't be the same without you." And neither will I be able to bear not seeing you and hugging you every day. She didn't dare express those thoughts. As much as she enjoyed being around Jeremy, there was still a big part of her that wondered if he felt anything for her. "When do you leave on the mission trip?"
"Right after finals week, so about three more weeks." What terrible timing. On the anniversary of that nightmare of a night, her friend and confidante would abandon her. Just like another person had abandoned her. Christine left out a melancholy sigh at the thought.
# # #
Before a blink of an eye, the spring semester was over. Finals were complete and Christine was confronted with a painful goodbye as she drove up to the passenger drop off at the Tucson airport.
"I don't want you to go," she said shyly, staring at her feet.
"I know, Christine. It'll fly by and it'll all be ok."
"Why does it have to be right now? You know what today is, and I just… can't bear this alone."
"You're not alone, Christine. God hears you, he knows your heart and knows your struggles. He loves you, and He's there to talk to."
Christine felt her face get hot. "I don't understand you, Jeremy. After all the evil you saw in Iraq, all the loss and horror and unfathomable sadness and darkness, how can you still believe? How can I possibly believe there's this being floating around in the void 'protecting' me when that supposed omnipresent being couldn't protect me that night?" And there it was: the question she had wanted to scream from the rooftops the night Jeremy told her he was a chaplain. How, after all the hell he had seen, could he possibly believe in God? And how, after all the evilness Christine had experienced at the hands of someone who claimed to love her, was she to believe God loved her and protected her?
"He was there protecting you that night, Christine. You're still alive and you're still here. Your story has only just begun." He pulled out a worn down and dirty leather-bound notebook. "I want you to have this and read it in its entirety." He handed it to her.
"What is it?" she asked as she untied the leather strings and cracked open the notebook. Jeremy's handwriting.
"It's a journal and devotional I kept writing in while in Iraq. I want you to read it, and I mean REALLY read it." He glanced down at his watch. "I have to go." He reached up and cupped her small face in his hand. "You take care, and I'll see you soon." He placed a kiss on her cheek, and before she could stop herself, Christine quickly turned her head and angled her face to meet Jeremy's lips with hers. Jeremy's eyes shot open in surprise, watching Christine's eyes scrunched tightly closed, and softly kissed her back but quickly pulled back.
"Be safe." And Jeremy disappeared into the airport.
Christine drove home in a daze. She had never been so brazen before; kissing Jeremy quite possibly was a mistake. She immediately regretted it. She found herself a little while later turning into the parking lot at the bookstore. There were more cars there than usual. Entering the bookstore she discovered a community art group participating in an open painting event. A young woman came up to her and asked if she'd like to join the free class, "We're just getting started! Grab an empty seat. They're passing around a bowl with a designated word on it. Then you paint your word and bring it to life." Christine found an empty seat next to an older couple and was soon handed the bowl. She reached in and pulled out her slip of paper: Magnolia. She swallowed hard. Magnolia. The magnolia tree from the night of Kevin's party, outside in the courtyard of his apartment. The night she freely gave herself to him. The night the sweet smells from the magnolia tree behind them danced in the breeze and blended its sweet fragrance with the pending rain. Magnolia. Kevin. Sadness. Darkness. Music. Erik… Erik… Erik… his name on repetition as her brush strokes matched the cadence of his name.
Summer 2005
It had been three weeks and still nothing from Jeremy. Christine wondered if she had made a terrible mistake in forcing a kiss upon him the day he left for his mission trip. Christine sat at her desk, the hot desert son beating mercilessly upon the apartment complex. It was almost too hot to breathe. Her room was darkened sans for the soft glow of her desk lamp. Her magnolia tree painting staring back at her. She continued to work on the canvas. Living within each bloom of magnolia flowers were the faces of Nadir. There was Gustav. There was Jeremy. And in more than one bloom throughout the tree was Erik. Her summer courses were keeping her busy and occupied, but it was the quiet, late afternoons like this that turned her melancholy and contemplative.
Jeremy's devotional journal had laid mostly untouched, unopened on the floor next to Christine's bed. She could never bring herself to open it and read its contents, but something about today pulled her attention towards the notebook. "Christine, dinner's in a few minutes," called Nadir from the kitchen. The journal beckoned to her and begged to be opened. Christine sat on her bed and carefully opened the pages. She flipped through the beginning entries, feeling the remnants of Iraq's grainy dirt scratching against the paper. Around halfway through, a glaring title drew her attention:
Darkness Falling
Today was the funeral of four soldiers killed during a convoy patrol by a roadside IED. How can I possibly still believe you are here, Lord? I doubt your presence and your love. I am angry. I cry out to you, "Abba, Father! Why have you forsaken me?" Why have you led me here? I am begging and pleading for answers yet I feel you are silent to my tears and cries and call for help. My purpose has come into question. Is this truly part of your plan? I am angry.
Christine felt her salty tears stinging her cheeks. She couldn't finish reading. She flipped to a few pages further.
Hope, Faith, and Thankfulness
All in your wonderfully planned timing, Father. Today we baptised two brothers who have accepted you as their Lord and Savior. They told me it was my sermon from last week's memorial services. Father, my God, my Lord! Blessed be your name and I thank you for my trials so you could move others to you. Hallelujah!
"Sweetie, dinner's ready," Nadir knocked and poked his head in. Christine followed him into the kitchen, clutching Jeremy's devotional journal.
"Uncle Nadir?" she asked, "You don't ever talk about your faith. Do you believe in God?"
Nadir sat back thoughtfully. "I did once, kid. War changes things…" but he dropped off, "war changes people. It's hard to find light within the darkness."
"Did dad believe in God?"
"Yes, he believed. He was always a better man than I ever was… or am. Just curious what's fueling this, Christine. You were raised in church. But I get it - you've been through hell and it's normal to question. Take it from this old man."
"Jeremy gave this to me when I dropped him off at the airport. I think you should read it." And Christine placed the journal onto the table. The two finished dinner in silence.
# # #
The rest of summer went by within a routine. Christine plowed through her summer classes with ease and was delighted to finally see graduation on the horizon. Nadir had noticed a shift within her; somehow she seemed less distracted and more at peace with her circumstances. Unfortunately, however, the migraines didn't cease. Christine wouldn't dare tell Nadir about the recurring dream that had been haunting her slumber. It always started out the same. An earnest seduction of Erik's hands but his face had become faded, unknown and unfamiliar. Perhaps the memories of him were fading along with the hurt from over a year ago.
Just landed! Her phone chimed. It was Jeremy and it was finally home. She was ecstatic as she pulled out of the cell phone lot and navigated her way to the arrivals. She watched carefully as she passed the sea of arriving passengers on the curb waiting to be picked up. There! There he was! She quickly pulled over, her truck making a terrible metal grinding sound. She parked and jumped out and ran into Jeremy's arms. "You're finally back! You're finally here. I have missed you!" she happily wept into Jeremy's neck. He laughed in response and squeezed her tight. "Nadir made dinner to welcome you back if you're up for it."
"Good, I'm starving… and exhausted. But food calls. It's so great to see you, Christine. You look good. You have a glow about you."
"Because you're finally home," she said but noticed Jeremy fidgeting nervously, uncomfortably. She raised an eyebrow, "Let's get out of here." The drive from the airport to the apartment was in awkward silence. Christine asked questions, Jeremy answered, a steady rhythm of inquiry and response. He's just tired.
Nadir greeted Jeremy with a hug and welcome home and the three sat down for a light meal. Jeremy was quickly fading and Nadir offered to let him spend the night on the couch, which Jeremy gladly accepted. With half an hour, Jeremy passed out cold, snoring away.
The next morning, Christine awoke to find Jeremy gone. "It's jetlag Christine… it's still on Africa time. He called a cab and went home. He didn't want to wake you." She read Jeremy's note; it sounded too formal, something wasn't right. And her feelings were confirmed: he was avoiding her for a reason.
Autumn 2005
There wasn't time to dwell on much of anything as the fall semester began a few days after Jeremy's arrival back to Arizona. This was it: the final semester. Graduation in December. And yet another question remained: what happens after this?
Jeremy was in the final stages of writing and editing his doctoral thesis and didn't have much time outside of that. It wasn't until Thanksgiving break when Jeremy was able to resurface for air. He would defend his dissertation in two short weeks and then graduate with distinguished honors. His plans for afterwards remained a mystery until Thanksgiving evening.
Nadir, Christine and Jeremy enjoyed an informal dinner together. Stuffing consumed, turkey comas looming, and football blaring on the TV, Christine eyed Jeremy carefully, still noticing his distant eyes and avoiding glances. "Christine, are you up for the bookstore? Open mic tonight, let's go."
"Oh, uh, ok. Let me grab my guitar." Christine emerged from her room and noticed that Nadir nodded in affirmation to Jeremy; something didn't seem right, something was definitely off. Jeremy and Christine drove in a heavy silence to the bookstore. The truck came to a shuddering stop as they parked in a parking spot.
"Christine," Jeremy said quietly, "I, uh, want to talk to you about something." This didn't sound good. "I'm really sorry I haven't been that present since I got back from my trip. It's not that it isn't good to be with you and hang out, but I haven't been completely honest." This definitely wasn't good. Christine nervously chewed on her chapped bottom lip. "While I was on my mission trip, I bumped into an old friend from my undergrad days. She, um, her name is Emerson, Emmi for short, was on the same trip with the organization we were sponsored by, and I hadn't seen her in a really long time. We, uh, dated off and on during undergrad but our lives were heading in a very different direction at the time. We had kept in touch over the years with an email here and there. But um," here it came, "we reconnected on this mission trip. And the country direction for the organization offered me a full time job as pastor at a newly emerging church in Kenya. I've accepted their offer and I'm going there permanently once my doctorate is presented, and I asked Emmi to join me. We're getting married." Christine bit too hard on her and tasted a drop of blood on her tongue.
"Oh…" she whispered, her throat becoming painfully dry. "We better get inside and figure out what we're going to sing."
"Chris…" Jeremy tried to still her, but she was already out of the vehicle, walking to the bed of the truck to grab her guitar. "Christine… wait a minute, hold up… please."
"It's fine, it's fine. I'm fine."
"Talk to me. Please forgive me for not telling you. I just… I just didn't know what to say. And when you kissed me the day I left, I didn't know you had feelings for me. I'm sorry if I made you think I thought of you in… in that way."
"So… what, I'm like the kid sister? The annoying small sidekick for you to kill time with?" That came out too harsh, and she watched Jeremy crumbling. "I didn't mean it like that… I just… like, I told you everything, Jeremy. And I just thought maybe it wasn't pity I saw in your eyes when you looked at me. Maybe I tried to convince myself you really did care about me."
"I DO care, Christine, I do and I love you… just not the way you need me, too." This next part was going to hurt but it was so true and he knew Christine would know it to be. "I can't save you from your solitude and I'm not the answer." Christine stilled. "And since we're laying out there, you haven't been completely honest with me. I know about Erik; I had to hear it from Nadir."
No… no he didn't. But yes, Erik's name was finally spoken aloud. Yes, Erik was and was still an ever-prevailing and ever-present companion. "You don't know what you're saying; you don't know anything." It felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest.
"Then tell me, Christine… tell me about him. Tell me what happened."
She stared at her ground, watching her heart getting stomped. "I can't. Let's just go in." Jeremy let out a sigh and followed far behind. The bookstore was packed, perhaps most people escaping the post-Thanksgiving dinner family fiascos. Christine beelined for the empty stage and sat in front of the piano. Her eyes told Jeremy to stay put and not to come onto the stage with her. She quickly tuned, and a few voices in the background rumbled about "it's the girl from New Year's Eve" and "oh wow, she's back" and "wait wait, just listen quick." She cleared her throat and began the opening chords. She knew Jeremy was right. His words echoed in her brain. You really want to know who Erik is? What I wanted him to be?
I sit and watch the rain,
And see my tears run down the windowpane.
I sit and watch the sky,
And I can hear it breathe a sigh.
I think of him,
How we were.
And when I think of him,
Then I remember,
Remember.
In his eyes I can see
Where my heart longs to be.
In his eyes I see a gentle glow,
And that's where I'll be safe, I know.
Safe in his arms, close to his heart.
But I don't know quite where to start.
By looking in his eyes,
Will I see beyond tomorrow?
By looking in his eyes,
Will I see beyond the sorrow
That I feel?
Will his eyes reveal to me
Promises or lies?
But he can't conceal from me
The love in his eyes.
I know their every look,
His eyes.
They're like an open book,
His eyes.
But most of all the look
That hypnotized me.
If I'm wise, I will walk away,
And gladly.
But, sadly, I'm not wise.
It's hard to talk away,
The mem'ries that you prize.
Love is worth forgiving for,
Now I realize.
Everything worth living for
Is there, in his eyes!
Love is worth forgiving for,
Now I realize.
Everything worth living for
Is there, in his eyes!
Christine hadn't noticed the steady stream of tears on her face. She belted out her proclamation, shouting to all who would listen: no more running, go home and find him. Somehow, in some way, find him. The applause from the customers was almost deafening, whistles and thunderous claps and cheers surrounded her. She knew what she had to do.
Jeremy followed her back to the truck shortly after to head back to the apartment. "You found it tonight, Christine," he said stoically as they sat outside the apartment building.
"Found it?" she asked.
"You already know. And tonight, you have a decision to make." And with that obtuse thought, Jeremy walked to his car.
A few hours later, Christine found herself alone in her room. It was late as she lay restless, unable to sleep and that's when she felt it. Like the comfort of a weighted blanket, and reassuring and securing feeling enveloped her. "God," she whispered, "I give it all to you. Help me." And within minutes, she fell into a deep sleep.
December 2005 - Graduation and Home
She didn't tell Nadir, she wanted it to be a surprise. Her acceptance letter lay open on the kitchen table as she prepared hot tea, waiting for Nadir to come home. "Hey kid, how was your last final?"
"It went really well. Definitely passed." And graduation loomed next week. "I have some news to share, and I think you better sit down."
"Oh? Hit me," Nadir chuckled and glanced down at the envelope Christine pushed towards him. The college seal on the letter… Western Cypress University. He looked curiously at Christine, a broad smile on her face. "Congratulations on your acceptance to the College of Education and Professional Studies for the Master of Arts degree program in Library Science and Information for the Fall 2006 semester." The color in his face drained away. "Christine, what's the meaning of this?" Christine's smile immediately disappeared.
"Uncle Nadir, I'm 23 years old and it's time for me to grow up. I am forever indebted to you for everything you have done and continue to do in my life. You are my family, the only family I have left. And you've gone through monumental proportions to put your life on hold to protect me and permit me time to heal. But it's time for me to stop running. I'm ready to go home." And spoke this part carefully and cautiously. "And although I would like you to come back to Pennsylvania with me so we can start this new chapter, if you want to stay here, you can, but I need to do this."
Damn this girl; no, this young woman who had grown up too fast. Life came at her fast and furious, and Nadir had to admit her admired her gumption and her charge. "Let's give this some time, but we'll go if you're ready. Let's wait until Spring." And Christine's smile returned. This was it.
# # #
"Congratulations class of 2005!" the President of the University announced.
A small quiet dinner followed in celebration of both Jeremy's and Christine's graduation. Jeremy was to leave tomorrow night. And tonight was goodbye.
"Mr. Khan, I cannot thank you enough for your guidance, your friendship, and mutual brotherhood in service. It has been a sincere honor, sir." The two men exchanged a hug and said their goodbyes. Nadir headed back into the apartment, leaving Christine and Jeremy alone.
Wetting her lips ever so slightly, Christine pulled herself to her toes and gently placed her lips onto his. The trembling fingers of her left hand slowly reached up to the side of his face, mapping whatever lines she could trace. He didn't kiss her back, but he allowed this moment to happen. Gently, he broke her away from him, her eyes remaining closed. "Christine," whispered Jeremy, "I am not him. I'm not the one for you."
"I know, Jeremy. This was goodbye." And Jeremy reached for her and crushed her into an all-consuming embrace.
"Find him, Christine. And by the grace of God, you will be with him and know the plan He has for you. I love you, Christine."
"I love you, too. Take care of yourself." And with that, he was gone.
Pennsylvania - Spring 2006
"I didn't realize we had so much stuff in storage," Christine sighed as she and Nadir stood in front of the open storage unit.
"Well, let's get it in the truck and back to the house so you can get that place back in order."
# # #
"Hi, Ms. Daae, welcome aboard! We're excited to have you join the library staff here at the campus library. We certainly need the help!"
"I'm really excited to be here," Christine said as she got a tour under way with the senior librarian at the Frances V. Harvey Library on the campus of Western Cypress University.
It was already the end of April and the student body was yet again in a flurry of deadlines as finals week was quickly approaching. It was late afternoon when Christine's shift was up, but as she was packing up her belongings ready to head back to the house in the woods, a graceful and flamboyant blonde-haired young woman came gallivanting into the library looking rather frazzled and confused. "Oh my gosh, thank God you guys are still open and someone's here!" she said rather breathlessly.
Christine chuckled as she took off her backpack. "You're just in time, I was about to leave for the day. Can I help you with something?"
"The struggle is REAL, girl, let me tell you! God I hope you know music. My friend is in freaking New York City right now and doesn't have time to help me pick a piece of music for my recital. I love him to death, but COME ON!"
Christine was laughing hysterically. This poor girl was in an awful tizzy but she was so sweet and absolutely hilarious. "Well, you're in luck. I was a music minor so I might be able to help. My name is Christine, by the way."
"You, dear Christine, are a saint! A SAINT I tell you! Bless your heart for staying to help. I'm Meg… Meg Giry."