Something Old - Dianne L. Christner [64]
“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.”
CHAPTER 17
On 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.”
“Promise? It’ll be fun.”
“I promise.”
Lil and a few stragglers shuffled in. Brother Troyer and the song leader strode to the front, causing a hush to fall over the congregation. There was no raised platform. Void of stained glass or unnecessary grandeur, the architecture and interior were plain, reflecting the humble mind-set of the worshippers. But after the singing,