Something Old - Dianne L. Christner [98]
A black veil shuttered Katy’s vision at the glib explanation. “Bye,” she mouthed, woodenly.
As she and Lil walked toward the car, she was pleased Lil made no small talk, and even more pleased to note that nobody unpinned their covering in the parking lot. She had a mental picture of what Megan said happened with caps at graduation ceremonies.
“Katy, wait up.”
She halted, squared her shoulders. She wasn’t feeling up to small talk, even with Jake, who knew where she stood on this matter. “I’ll wait in the car,” Lil said softly. She nodded and turned, unable to fake a smile. “I’m sorry.” He took her hand.
Chapped and ungloved, she felt his touch on her bare skin. She’d been too shocked to remove her gloves from her purse. He rubbed his thumb across the top of her fingers, and she almost warmed to the physical contact. Yet she resisted, unable to give in to defeat.
“It should make Minnie happy,” she said sharply.
His hand fell away at the cruel remark. The shock in his expression sent a pang of regret through her. “Katy,” he said sadly.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I just can’t deal with this.”
He cast a quick glance over his shoulder and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Can we drive into New Rome, get some coffee?”
“I don’t think so. I’m not good company right now.” She longingly glanced toward the car. “Lil’s waiting.” She knew she should invite him over to the doddy house, but she really wasn’t in the mood. With that, she turned away from his hurt expression and walked across the crackling parking lot. Only headlights broke the darkness, each vehicle heading off to their solitary places.
CHAPTER 28
On Monday morning, Katy tossed her cell phone on the nightstand, then quickly grabbed for a Kleenex. She sneezed twice, her eyes welling up in tears. “Ugh.”
Lil perched on the edge of Katy’s bed. “How did Tammy take it?”
“She wasn’t pleased I called in sick. She asked if I could come in tomorrow instead, if I was feeling better. I do need the money.”
Lil nodded sympathetically. “Here’s coffee. Maybe it will help. I’m going to make a big pot of chicken noodle soup. It’ll be ready in a couple of hours, and you can sip on it all day. And I’ll even clean up the kitchen.”
Katy took the coffee with little strength to protest. “Thanks.”
“Hey, you know how we’ve been hoping for a chair for the living room?”
After taking a cautious first sip of her coffee, Katy nodded.
“My mom’s willing to give us her green-striped armchair. And if you agree, I can get Jake to haul it over.”
“Why is she willing to let it go?”
“Well, you know how she’s been moping around ever since the fire?” Katy nodded.
“Her birthday’s coming up, so Dad told her to pick out some new furniture. He wants her to get a recliner-rocker that’s just her size. He’s worried about her.”
“I was sorry to hear that she resigned from the hostess committee.”
Lil’s shoulders sagged. “We’re all worried about her. We’ve never seen her so depressed.”
“I know the fire’s bothering her, but do you think empty-nest syndrome has anything to do with her despondency?”
Lil’s eyes widened. “You think? I guess I was her baby. Maybe I need to visit her more often.”
Katy crooked her mouth in mock deliberation. “Nah. I can’t imagine why she’d miss you. Can’t say as I would.”
Lil’s mouth flew open, and she countered, “If you weren’t sick, I’d make you eat those words. I know how ticklish you are.”
“But I am so sick right now.” She popped a throat lozenge in her mouth and glanced at the tropical turquoise wall and longed for summer. It had been a long, hard winter in her soul. And she was growing weary of it. She sighed and took another sip of coffee. “Yuck, those two don’t mix.”
Lil chuckled. “Dummy. So it’s okay to take the chair?”
“Of course. It will add some color, too. Though without two chairs, I suppose we’ll fight over it.”
“You bet we will. Just like everything else.” Lil studied her a moment, and then ventured, “I haven’t told you, but I’m sorry for you, about the outcome of the head-covering