Something Old - Dianne L. Christner [62]
“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