Something Old - Dianne L. Christner [60]
“Katy?” Bill Weaver asked.
She felt Jake’s elbow in her ribs. “Huh?”
“You look like something troubles you. You don’t agree with the size of the storage room?” All gazes turned toward her, eyebrows raised in expectancy.
“No. I mean, yes, I agree,” she fumbled, feeling her cheeks heat. Lil was going to pay.
That night after the meeting, Katy waited up for Lil to come home from work. She rehearsed her angry speech as she emptied the trash, the night air nipping her flushed cheeks. She scrubbed toilets and scoured sinks and wrote furiously in her journal about removing unwanted scents from clothing. And when Lil’s clunker coughed into the yard, Katy was ready for her, standing five feet from the entry, legs planted and fists on her hips.
The door opened and Lil halted. “Whoa.”
“I can’t believe you,” Katy ground out.
“What? You didn’t have to wait up. I’m exhausted. I had to stay and close.”
“You told Jake about the ballet,” Katy accused.
Flinging her purse on the table, Lil shrugged. “You didn’t tell me it was a secret. I only wanted to help.”
Katy followed her to the table. “You think I want the whole church to know that I’m participating in a dancing event?”
Shrugging out of her coat and dropping it over the back of a chair, Lil said dryly, “Where’s Megan when we need her?”
“This isn’t funny. I figured out your matchmaking schemes.”
Lil leaned wearily against a chair. “So that makes me a terrible person?”
“Just the other day when you cut your bangs, you told me that we were adults. So why are you trying to run my life for me? Did you ever stop to think that I might like to be treated like an adult, too?”
Lil shot both hands in the air. “Look. Can we discuss this tomorrow after you’ve cooled down? Like I said, I’m really tired. I just want to go to bed.”
“I’m tired, too. Tired of you interfering with my life. You’re always trying to change me. I’m sick of it, and I don’t think this”—she flung her arms in the air, gesturing at the room—“is going to work out. Us living together.”
Lil froze. Her freckles paled. Then she became angry, too. “You don’t get it. Jake is like a brother to me. He loves you. If you weren’t so stubborn, you’d admit that you love him, too. Because of your pigheadedness, I have to help you guys along.”
“You can’t decide what’s right or wrong for me. Even God gives people free wills.”
Lil’s eyebrow arched. “Don’t go bringing God into this. As if He’s on your side. As if I’m not a Christian. You’re always doing that for me with your goody-goody attitude. But look at you yelling. What happened to your Mennonite upbringing now? Ever hear of nonresistance?”
“And do Conservative girls go around without wearing their coverings?”
Lil’s hand went to her head, then slid back to her side. She raised her chin. “At least I don’t pretend I’m something I’m not.”
“No you don’t,” Katy whispered.
“But you do.” Lil snatched her coat and purse and flung open the door.
“I do not.”
Lil shook her head, then strode out and slammed the door behind her. Shocked, Katy stared at the rattling door. She heard the engine of Lil’s car cough to life and then sputter off the property. Katy flicked the dead bolt with such force it popped back open. She slid it the second time, more deliberately, into the locked position. Good riddance.
She marched to the couch, plopped down, and stared at the floor, virtually panting with outrage. What did Lil mean about pretending? She was serious about living a holy life. Sure she fell