Something Old (20 page)

She flicked on her bedside lamp and set her tea on the nightstand. She pulled the drapes and tamped back her panic. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she removed the pins from her covering and placed them on her nightstand. Lil’s messy bedcovers flagged her attention, and she couldn’t look away.

Calmly she padded across the floor and made Lil’s bed. When the last wrinkle was smoothed away, she sat on her own bed again and sipped her tea. What would happen to the doddy-house dream now? She hadn’t considered Megan’s feelings at all.

Eerie shadows danced in the closet. Strange house noises emphasized her loneliness. Would she have to slink home and admit to her dad she wasn’t ready to live on her own?

T
he next morning upon awakening, Katy groaned and pulled the twisted bedcovers over her tangled locks and bleary eyes, trying to dispel her fragmented dreams and the reality of the mess she’d created. During the night, she’d not only dreamed but woken to fits of unreasonable panic over every creak and moan of the doddy’s ancient timbers. Though daylight brought relief in that respect, the promise of future terrifying nights stole from the welcome respite.

Lonely and somewhat isolated, the doddy house was located down a long lane on a rural road, yet received a fair amount of morning work traffic with men gunning their trucks to punch in their time card at Ranco Incorporated or yellow school buses screeching their brakes and picking up students. Most of this noise passed unnoticed by Katy, but one clunker didn’t, causing her to throw off her covers at its faintest din before it even rumbled into the Millers’ drive.

Thank You, God! She hit the bare floorboards running and fumbled with the dead bolt. She swiped a matted clump of hair from her face, the entire black bramble bush tumbling over her shoulders and tickling her waist. She peered through the frosty window, quickly rubbing a visible circle with her palm. Sure enough, there was Lil stepping out of her Blazer. She had her head bowed and her coat pulled tight. Lil walked toward the doddy house!

Every nerve at alert, Katy turned to face the entryway, waiting for Lil just as she had the previous evening, only her emotions came from a different place now. The door cracked open, and Lil stepped inside with the widening eyes of a burglar caught in the act of breaking and entering. Eerie quiet filled the room with only the memory of bitter words crackling between them.

“Lil,” Katy finally managed, unable to form redemptive words with healing power but stupidly muttering the obvious. If she couldn’t think how to patch matters up, then she feared to say anything. Had Lil returned to pack her bags or to win another of a long string of arguments that had transpired over the course of their friendship? Katy hoped her friend stood there because the doddy house was their home.

“You’re back?” Katy finally asked.

Nodding, Lil blurted out, “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Overcome with relief, Katy cried, “I didn’t mean to push you away. I’ve been miserable. I had a terrible night.”

They flew into each other’s embrace and awkwardly swiped at burning eyes. When they drew apart, Lil sniffed the air. “What? No coffee?”

Katy sucked in her bottom lip; her attire, a cotton nightgown that hung to her ankles, vouched for her when she protested, “I just got up. I was in bed with the covers over my head.”

Lil gave her a gloating smile. “I forgot you did that.”

“I didn’t think I did anymore.”

“I just got up, too.” Lil flung off her coat, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, and started toward the coffeepot.

“We need hooks or something for our coats,” Katy mumbled, taking cups from the cupboard. Then she remembered Jake was bringing them a coatrack.

“I got up early ‘cause I didn’t want to have to explain to my mom why I spent the night. She doesn’t need something else to worry about. Anyway, I felt childish afterward.”

Katy waited until they stared repentantly at each other over steaming mugs before she ventured upon the delicate subject. “I’m sorry I yelled at you last night. I’ve been stuffing my feelings.” Remembering Lil’s accusations, she owned up to her actions with as much honesty as possible. “I just couldn’t handle another disappointment. I felt betrayed. But I don’t know where all that came from. The terrible things I said.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could confide in me. I called Jake last night.”

Conflicting emotions gnawed Katy’s insides, fearing to talk about him because a part of her still didn’t trust the cousins’ intimacy, yet knowing that the problem wouldn’t get settled until everything was exposed. At work, she’d never dream of sweeping dirt under a rug, yet lately she’d done that with her emotions. It had resulted in an angry explosion. She didn’t want that to happen again.

“I told him I was wrong to get involved. That I didn’t want it to ruin my friendship with you. That I loved you both, but I wouldn’t be doing any more matchmaking. That he’s on his own.” Lil held Katy’s gaze. “I mean it. I won’t interfere again. I want you to know I only did it because I love you both. But I see now I was wrong to stick my nose in where it didn’t belong. Like you said, you’re an adult.”

With a warm smile, Katy acknowledged what this must have cost her take-charge friend. “Thanks.”

Lil nodded and quietly drank coffee.

With her anger completely dissolved, Katy thought about Lil’s use of the word
matchmaking
and couldn’t help but wonder who had initiated that idea, Lil or Jake? Katy’s rebellious heart hoped it had been him, but she couldn’t be sure because the cousins had similar personalities. It shouldn’t matter because the point she was trying to make was that she wasn’t going to take him back, regardless. That she was mad about the matchmaking. Yet the question niggled her curiosity.

“What?” Lil asked, peering over her cup and then setting it down.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter. But whose idea was it to begin with?”

A sudden glint lit Lil’s eyes. “The ballet tickets?”

Katy thumbed small circles on her mug. “I know that came from you. But you know”—her neck heated—“the matchmaking part?”

“Jake came to me. He asked how to win you back. I knew how much you’d grieved over your broken relationship. I just wanted you both to have a happily-ever-after.”

Fighting back unwelcome tears, Katy softly asked, “What if I can’t be happy with damaged goods?”

Lil didn’t blink at the embarrassing question that had haunted Katy ever since she had heard about Jake’s fling with an outsider. “You don’t know
that
happened.”

Katy raised her chin. “Do you know if it did?”

“No.” Lil spit the word out as if it tasted bitter in her mouth. “Guys don’t talk about that kind of stuff to girls.”

“Exactly.” Feeling a mounting resolve that she had every right to brood over the question, she asked, “Don’t you think I’d always wonder about him and that other girl?”

“Jessie.”

Katy’s jaw dropped.

Lil shrugged. “Her name is Jessie, and she’s probably not as awful as you picture her.”

“If they’d only dated, it would be one thing, but Jake and Jessie went to drunken parties, and I’m thinking”—Katy’s lip began to quiver, but she couldn’t quit until she’d exposed her imaginations—“she probably went to bed with him.” Afterward, she stared at her cup, unable to look Lil in the eyes.

But Lil’s voice was soft and sympathetic. “Maybe that’s something you should ask Jake. It might change things if you learned the truth.” Swiping a hand across her eyes, Katy protested. “I can’t.”

“Do you want me to ask him?”

“No!”

“Even if your future depends upon it?”

Katy stared at her, wondering if it would be better to know. If he had kept himself pure, it would make a difference. She opened her mouth to ask Lil if she would do that for her when Lil suddenly waved her hand through the air, as if to erase the offer.

“Sorry. I’m overstepping my bounds again. I promised not to interfere. Let’s forget about Jake for a moment. I did a lot of thinking last night. What you said about him being damaged goods, sometimes it feels like you lump me in the same dough as Jake, thinking I’m wild and don’t have any scruples. Like I’m not a Christian.” Her voice broke. “Like…I’m no good.”

Hot shame rushed over Katy’s face. Lil had never allowed such vulnerability to surface before. “Oh Lil. That’s not true,” she denied. “I love you.”

Lil raised her hand again. “Let me finish. I pride myself on being an open book. What you see is what you get. But here’s the thing. I hate being different from everybody else.”

Leaning forward, Katy softly probed, “You mean the outsiders?”

“Yeah, everybody.” Lil’s gaze pleaded for understanding. “I don’t like being plain or weird, having people whisper about me when I walk into a room. I don’t like being told how to act or how to look by sour-faced men, either.” Katy had to swallow her gasp when Lil alluded to the elders, including her own dad, with such disdain. “For once, I’d like to be noticed in a good way. The church discourages dressing in the latest fashions and frowns on focusing on outward beauty. That’s why I’ve just got to be a good chef. I can make food beautiful. There’s no sin in that, is there? Jesus made wine out of water. I just want people to respect me. Can you understand that?”

She met Lil’s earnest gaze and felt her pain. “Yes. I don’t like being different, either. Mostly, I just want to be invisible. Like when I took Addison to her dance class and stepped into a room of glamorous women in jeans with glittery belts. I wanted to disappear through the floorboards. Not to stand out like some oddball. But I swallowed my pride and told myself that following Christ is not an easy thing.”

“But we’re not supposed to be invisible. We’re supposed to let our lights shine.”

“Well, the light of God,” Katy corrected. At Lil’s crestfallen expression, Katy wished she’d refrained.

They both grew contemplative, and the ticking of the wall clock that Lil’s mom donated to the doddy house reminded Katy that soon she would need to get ready for work. “I think we both try to express our true selves through our work. I’m thankful we have that.”

“Yeah, I obsess about food, and you go around picking up after everybody. What’s that say about us?” Katy shrugged. “That we’re weird?”

Lil giggled. “Too bad Megan’s not here to get in on this deep stuff. It’s right down her alley.”

“She’s probably smarter than us. But we’ve got to learn to get along together without her.”

“Exactly. More coffee?” Lil got up and brought the pot over.

Katy glanced at the clock again but decided one more cup wouldn’t make her late. “Another thing I want to bring up. You’re right about us being adults. I’m going to quit preaching at you and just let the real Lil shine.”

Lil glowed as if she’d been handed the world. “And I’m not going to try to change you, either. Except it wouldn’t hurt if you combed your hair. It looks pretty bad.” She lifted her coffee cup. “This calls for a toast.”

Rolling her gaze heavenward, Katy relented, “Fine.” She mimicked Lil and raised her cup, biting off the urge to ask Lil where in the world she’d learned to toast.

“To adulthood, womanhood, and sisterhood.”

Katy felt awed. “And friend-hood.”

“Clink your cup against mine, silly.”

Clink
and
clink
sealed the deal between them.

“Now what are we going to do with our coats?” Katy asked. “We can’t just keep hanging them over the chairs. And if we hang them in our bedroom closet, they smell up our clothes.”

“I’ll ask Jake about that coatrack again. Otherwise, he could make one or put up some hooks for us behind the door. I’ll set it up for some day while you’re at work.”

O
n Sunday morning, Katy and Lil chatted as they passed a row of cars and headed toward the rectangular shaped—soon to be L-shaped—meetinghouse. A young couple directly in front of them reined in their tiny children, who had spotted the playground and had tried to veer off toward it.

“No. Maybe after church for a few minutes,” their mother corrected. “But it might be too cold.”

“And no talking in church today,” their father added. “Children are to be seen and not heard at times like this.”

Katy’s eyes, however, lingered nostalgically on the side lawn, now snowy and covered with worn playground equipment. There she and her girlfriends had often sung their ditties. She and Lil had always vied for control on the teeter-totter. Lil, who had weighed more at the time, had often kept Katy airborne at her protest. It had been an act, however, for Katy had always preferred the loftier position.

Now, at last, she hoped the contention was gone between them. She hoped the manipulative games were finished. She didn’t wish to be a fraud. She wondered if Megan could sense the change in their relationship or if they would revert back to their old behavior in her presence.

Wrestling with that disturbing thought, she tentatively glanced at Lil, who had moved on from the head chef’s ridiculous requests to describe a certain waiter’s distracting eyes.

“Speaking of distractions,” Katy cut in, “I hope when Megan comes over today, we don’t revert to our old style of bickering.”

At first Lil’s expression blanked, lost in the sudden twist of the conversation; then she smiled. “We won’t let that happen.” They entered the lobby, and Lil’s family called out to her. “Save me a seat, okay? I want talk to my mom.”

“Sure.” Inside the sanctuary, Katy veered to the left, where the women sat, to locate her favorite pew. Her sister, Karen, spied her and hurried over.

“Hi, sis. I miss you. The bed stays cold all night. And it’s no fun being outnumbered. I never realized how much you stuck up for me around the boys. And Mom hasn’t gotten me a new night-light yet. Anyway, she says I can sit with you, if you don’t care.”

“Yes, sit with us.” Katy clamped an arm around her sister’s shoulders and squeezed. “I miss you, too. After all, you are my only sister.”

“Exactly. Please come for dinner today. Mom said to ask you. Please. Please.”

“Oh I’m sorry. Lil already has lunch planned. Megan’s coming over.” At Karen’s crestfallen expression, she quickly added. “Tell Mom I’ll come next Sunday for sure.”