Something Old - Dianne L. Christner [95]
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.”
CHAPTER 27
Katy 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,