Something Old (30 page)

She remembered reading something like that in the scriptures and went to her bedroom to get her Bible. When she passed the window, however, she caught movement outside. Her spirit sank to see Jake’s truck pulling into the drive.

Squaring her shoulders for battle, she started toward the door.
He just doesn’t know when to give up!

When Jake stepped inside, his face was grim. He looked around the spic-and-span doddy house with snapping eyes. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“Because I saw your name on the screen.”

His face flinched. He lifted his gaze to the top of her head and dropped it again, his expression burning with accusation. He swept her covering out of his pocket and slapped it on the table. “Guess you don’t need this.”

Her cheeks heated.

“She’s a frail old woman,” he admonished.

“How dare you come blaming me without giving me a chance to explain what happened?”

“You’re the one who ran. You let her alone with scissors? What were you thinking?”

Katy placed both hands to her temples. “Okay, stop. Just sit down. Listen to my side of it.” He hesitated.

She tilted her head to the side impatiently, “Isn’t that why you came?”

He brushed past her and strode into the living room. She wasn’t expecting to win him over, but she wasn’t about to let him leave without defending herself. She followed him and sat at the opposite end of the leather sofa, keeping an awkward distance between them.

She folded her hands on the lap of her dark skirt and painstakingly conveyed the entire story. Surprisingly, he didn’t interrupt. His expression had softened when she told him about swinging with his grandma, but it hardened again as the story continued. “Then you burst into the room, and you know the rest,” she finished.

“But how did she get the scissors?”

He was one-tracked. Katy shook her head. “I’m not a fool.” He lifted a brow.

“I don’t know. Maybe she slipped into the living room. Maybe she was pretending to sleep. Honestly, it’s almost like she was testing me, playing me.”

He rolled his gaze toward the ceiling.

Katy insisted, “You know as well as I do that the covering was once important to Minnie. If she were in her right mind, she would want us to keep it on her head.”

“You can’t control the congregation’s vote, so you control someone too weak to defend herself.”

“Minnie may be small, but she’s not weak. My face has the bruises to attest to that. And you won’t find any bruises on her!”

Jake studied her face, perhaps seeing the bruises and scratches for the first time. His voice calmed. “God knows my grandmother’s heart. After years of service and faithfulness, do you think He’s going to reject her now when her physical mind has grown senile? She’s our family. It’s our responsibility to keep her safe and happy. And if she doesn’t want to wear her covering, then so be it.”

Were they going to encourage her to become an actress, too?
She pushed the bitter thought aside and faced the truth. She had failed miserably, neither keeping Minnie safe nor happy. And she wasn’t part of their family. Jake and Ann had the right to decide what was best for Minnie. Feeling the depths of her failure and desperation over what she’d done that might never be set right again, Katy slumped, resting her head in her hands. A grievous mistake. So many mistakes. Her shoulders convulsed uncontrollably.

Within seconds, she felt Jake’s arms drape across them, sheltering her. She closed her eyes, inconsolable, not knowing how to make things right. Unconsciously, she curled into the comfort of his embrace.

“It’s okay,” he murmured again and again.

When she opened her eyes, his face hovered over hers, lined with empathy.

She squirmed then froze. When had she crawled into his lap? His hands cupped her face, caressed it. “Katy. Katy,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” She tried to sit up, but he stayed her. “Me, too,” he breathed into her ear.

She nuzzled into the crook of his neck, slid her arms around his waist, and rested there, not knowing what else to do until a creaky door and a surprised
Whoa!
brought Katy to her senses. At Lil’s voice, Katy tried to leap off Jake’s lap, but his arms tightened and firmly held her in place.

“Don’t mind me,” Lil chirped, walking past them and disappearing into the bedroom.

Katy groaned in the crook of his neck. “What else?”

“Be still,” he whispered. “I’m not letting you up until we understand each other. I lost you once, and I won’t do it again.”

She looked into his eyes. “You’re not angry?”

“No.”

She gently bit the inside of her cheek. “I handled it all wrong. Do you think Ann will forgive me?”

“Yes.” His voice was low and soothing.

“Minnie?”

He smiled and shrugged. “Don’t know what’s going through her mind.”

Just then Katy remembered something. She wiggled her arm free and reached into her pocket for a small container of her homemade hand cream. “I meant to give her this. For her cracked fingers. Will you take it to her?”

With reverence he stared at the small Tupperware container in the palm of his hand. His voice grew gravelly. “Oh Katy.”

K
aty watched Mr. Weaver walk to the front of the sanctuary, and her gaze went to the plain wooden cross on the wall behind him, a humble symbol of the Lord’s ultimate sacrifice. She hoped today’s special meeting addressing the head-covering ordinance would be God honoring.

Lil sat to Katy’s right, whispering to Mandy. On Katy’s left, Megan fiddled with her purse strap, no doubt nervous for her father and well informed of the many facets of the issue.

Mr. Weaver cleared his throat, and the congregation quieted. He held up his left arm and pointed to his watch. “The board of elders has elected to allow one hour for discussion, and then we will conclude the meeting with a vote. Women are invited to give their opinions on the matter. Keep your comments short. Everyone will be allowed to speak no more than twice per household to avoid any heated personal debates. Who will begin?”

A young mother stood up with a toddler straddled on her hip. He squirmed and swatted at her face, poking her eye. Blinking, she handed him down to her husband, who was seated beside her.

“Yes, Sister Irene.”

“I think we should wear the covering because it’s like baptism. A symbol that reflects an attitude of heart and spirit, one of love and submission and obedience to God.”

The congregation remained quiet, and another woman shot to her feet.

“Sister Terri.”

“Symbol
is the key word here. But home’s a private sanctuary. I don’t need to wear a symbol at home. I don’t have to prove anything there.” She glanced fondly at the tall, thin man beside her. “Simon knows my heart. God, too. That’s all that matters.”

Irene stood, holding the baby again, this time patting his back. “It’s not about proving anything. It’s about honoring God’s order. The design of the body attests to it. Men are designed to lead. Women nurture.” She cradled her little boy into her arms to demonstrate her point. He reached up and batted her face. She rubbed her face into his playful arms and sat back down.

Next Mandy stood. “I’m not opposed to wearing a covering, but if we’re going to be biblical, why not wear something that actually covers, like a larger veil?

Mr. Weaver recognized someone at the far side of the room, who had been trying to get acknowledged earlier. Katy strained to see who had stood. Lori was a single woman, self-educated, and rumors were that her learning included how to use the Internet for other than business purposes. Her sisters had all married into a higher church. She was also the church librarian. “I say it’s all a principle. The actual cultural practice is old-fashioned and not applicable to today when women hardly even wear hats any longer. I love the people in this congregation. You are my family. I’d hate to have to move to a higher church because of this little piece of organdy.”

Katy stifled a gasp, and Megan touched her hand, whispering out of the side of her mouth. “She’ll leave if this doesn’t go her way.”

It would be sad to have to replace her in the library, and she was an excellent quilter, too. An elderly woman stood, leaning heavily on the pew before her. “I’ve never talked in church before. But I’ve prayed over the years for most everyone here tonight. Or at least one of your loved ones.” She took several deep breaths. She had severe asthma, and speaking was difficult. “You probably think I’m old-fashioned, but I’ve seen a lot of changes in my day. And change is not necessarily good.” After several wheezy inhales, she said, “The church ordinances were put there for a reason. We—”

Beside her Lil rolled her gaze heavenward.

The woman spoke longer than was necessary, as if she took to being in the limelight, making the entire congregation uneasy with her struggle to breathe and her incessant rambling. Mr. Weaver grew antsy, moved to the head of the center aisle. Eventually she got around to her point. “We know that we are not to conform to the world. Once the prayer covering goes, it’s only a matter of time until we will blend in with mainstream society.”

“Mainstream?” Lil whispered. “Where’d
she
learn that word?”

“Probably reads the newspaper,” Katy replied.

Next a man spoke. “Just as every action we perform throughout the day is a choice that reflects our relationship with the Lord, I consider wearing the covering a personal choice, not something to be forced. Just like salvation.” He sat down. For this meeting, couples had been encouraged to sit together instead of taking separate sides of the room as was customary during regular church services. Now his wife nudged him. He popped back up. “And the style of the covering should be personal choice, too.” He started to sit and popped up again and grinned. “Long as it’s not a baseball cap.”

Titters filled the auditorium. Everyone realized that last tidbit was the only original part of his spiel.

“Anything more to add?” Mr. Weaver asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

The speaker shook his head and crossed his arms. His wife leaned into him with a proud smile.

Then one of Megan’s professors stood. He spoke clearly, enunciating every word as he might in a classroom when he wanted to make a point. “Free choice? As in women wearing male attire like blue jeans? As in abortion? Or feminism? Or perhaps women ordination?”

A second collective gasp resounded in the sanctuary. All those issues seemed far-fetched, even to Katy, but she respected him for reminding them of the pressures of society.

Her own experiences lately had shown her how easy it was to get pulled into worldly ways. She wanted to remain in God’s will. The shelter of His wings was the only place where one could find stability and safety. Minnie came to mind. God hadn’t prevented her from getting Alzheimer’s, but when swinging, she’d been aware of His presence, even joyful.

Katy considered her most recent encounter with Jake. When he’d held her and comforted her, she’d felt safe, yet tried to jump off his lap. But he’d clamped his arms tightly and lovingly until she’d submitted. They had resolved their problem. Was that the meaning of submission? Did it bring a woman to a better place? And wasn’t the covering submission to God?

The elder in charge of the meeting looked at his watch. “There is time for a few more comments.”

Katy had butterflies, yet her opinion welled up inside her and threatened to spew forth. But she didn’t know if she could express what she understood in her spirit. Like many of the others who had not made the best impression, she’d never spoken up in church. She might even hurt the cause. Many of the husbands sat red-faced, grim-mouthed. But she didn’t have a husband. Jake was present. Ann, too. If she spoke, would they be reminded of the recent covering incident?

The next speaker was another man. He read the long passage of scripture in Corinthians. Katy felt like he was stealing from the congregation’s discussion time, for they had already covered the scripture several times in the course of Brother Troyer’s sermons. She tried to calm herself, to listen. She tried to remain open-minded. To silently pray. But after the man sat down, she found herself on her feet.

“Yes, Sister Katy,” Mr. Weaver said gently.

“I—” She closed her eyes a moment and swallowed, trying to put her thoughts into a short summary. The image of God’s sheltering wings shot into her mind again, along with the scripture she’d just heard. “But we are to wear the covering on behalf of the angels. According to the scripture just read, they are present in this room.” She paused. “Right now.” Nothing else came to her mind so she sat.

Silence prevailed for a long moment. She dipped her head and stared at her skirt, thinking she had not expressed her opinion logically. Megan took her arm in support. The silence prolonged. And amazingly, nobody else stood. Her heart drummed inside her, for she wondered what everyone was thinking. Still nobody spoke. She slowly raised her head. Across the sanctuary, several heads were bowed. A rush of shivers passed over her.

Then a sweet note filled the silence, and she turned toward its source. One of the women had started to sing from her pew. Her words rang pure and sweet wafting over the otherwise silent room:
“Angels from the realms of glory, wing your flight o’er all the earth.”
Katy joined her voice to the rest of the congregation’s.
“Ye who sang creation’s story, now proclaim Messiah’s birth; come and worship, come and worship, worship Christ the newborn King.”

At the end of the song, Mr. Weaver spoke in a reverent tone. “I believe the angels are observing our meeting. In the awe of this holy moment, let us pray.” His prayer held reverence and worship. A few
Amen
s sounded afterward.

He looked over the congregation and explained, “If the vote to keep the present headdress ordinance does not pass, then the elders will appoint a committee to write a new ordinance. That one will be brought to the congregation for a vote of approval. Let us take our vote now regarding the original ordinance. Remember, only church members are allowed to participate. All those who wish to keep the head covering ordinance as it is, please stand.”