Something Old - Dianne L. Christner [45]
He stepped back and stuffed his hands in his jean pockets again. She shut her window.
He turned his back to her and walked toward his truck, and rats if she didn’t feel sorry for him.
CHAPTER 11
Parked outside Addison’s dance studio, Katy sat in her car and sulked. Tammy Brooks was one stubborn woman who wouldn’t get her red-painted claws out of Katy’s usually well-ordered life. Surely she wasn’t becoming a pushover? Why was everyone interfering with her plans? She had her own ideas of how things should go and didn’t like the obstacles she’d been encountering at every turn. She’d had it at home with her dad’s matchmaking, in her personal life with Lil hiring Jake, and now at work. She banged her head back against the padded headrest. She was definitely becoming a pushover.
Bored and restless, she opened the glove compartment and withdrew a small testament she kept there, opening the Bible and leafing through it at random. Just as her luck would have it, every verse her gaze fell upon had something to do with newness, reminding her of Jake’s oratory in the parking lot. She frowned at God’s sense of humor. In the book of Lamentations, she read God’s compassions are new every morning. She read passages about new spirits, new hearts, a new commandment—the commandment to love one another—new creatures, and in Revelation how God makes all things new.
Newness? Why couldn’t things remain the same? What was wrong with old and boring?
She felt confirmation in her heart that Jake had received God’s newness, but that didn’t mean she had to let him worm his way back into her affections. More restless than ever, she snapped the testament shut and returned it to the glove box. She glanced in the rearview mirror, involuntarily straightening her covering while she scanned the parking lot. Addison should be out any minute. Not wanting to argue with God about Jake, her fury transferred to Tammy again, who had insisted that Katy try babysitting just two days a week and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Tapping on the steering wheel, she prayed, “Lord, I feel like nothing gets resolved. Like I’m losing control of my life. I need Your help.” I need to be more assertive. Okay, and loving. She accepted the thoughts that came into her mind as inspiration.
Tap, tap. She jerked her gaze to the passenger’s window and saw Addison’s bubbly smile. Her small palms were pressed against the window. Her blond hair was piled on top of her head, and sweaty tendrils stuck to her cheeks in spite of the cold temperature outside. Her purple coat was open, revealing a pink tutu beneath it. Feeling a flash of fondness for the little girl, Katy quickly unlocked the doors and allowed her young charge to climb into the backseat.
“We’re going to the ballet!” Addison chirped, hopping into the car.
“That’s nice,” Katy said. “Fasten your seat belt, sweetie.” She heard the click and then the shuffling sounds of Addison’s dance bag, probably because the girl was retrieving her new, pink iPod.
They swung by Tyler’s friend’s house to pick him up and then drove to the children’s home. Katy had a garage door opener of her own now, and she pulled into an empty stall. The children sprang out and ran inside for their snack. By the time Katy got inside, they were fighting over the last can of soda pop. Tyler snapped it open, and fizz spilled over his hand and onto the freshly mopped floor.
Addison planted her tiny hands on her tutu hips and did a little dance move, posing and gloating over Tyler’s sticky mishap.
He burped, grinned, and headed for the stairway.
“Pick up your backpack,” Katy called after him.
“I know. I know.”
Katy smiled inwardly that he didn’t seem quite so resentful, hadn’t called her a pilgrim. She gave Addison a faint smile. “How about some orange juice?”
“Okay.” The little girl ditched her pose and climbed onto the bar stool, propping pink-clad elbows on the bar, adult-style. “I’m excited about the ballet. It’s Cinderella.”
A brief wave of nostalgia hit Katy, for she’d loved that fairy tale when