Katy's Homecoming (7 page)

Katy placed her coat on a peg and then slipped through the curtained doorway into the storage area in back of of Aunt Rebecca’s shop. She climbed onto one of the tall stools next to the sorting table and rested her chin in her hand.
Self-important.
The title stung.
But could it be even a tiny bit accurate?

Katy didn’t want to validate Caleb’s accusation, but she thought about her excitement over being chosen the sophomore attendant above all the other girls in her class. Even though she still wondered why the seniors had picked her — they’d never paid attention to her before — she relished the honor. She thought about how it made her feel — important and accepted — when Bryce asked her to go to the homecoming dance. Then she thought about forensics and how much she wanted to win medals at the competitions. Her conscience twinged. Was it possible school happenings were giving her a sense of self-importance?

Her whole life, she’d been taught that serving God first was the only way to find true contentment. She’d truly believed going to high school was an answer to prayer, and the deacons wouldn’t have approved it if they’d thought it
was against God’s will. But somehow she needed to figure out if the things she was doing at the school — all of the things, from learning in the classes to participating in extra activities — were pleasing to God. She had much to think about.

“Katy?” Aunt Rebecca called from the front of the store.

Katy jumped off the stool and peeked through the doorway into the display area. “Yes?”

Aunt Rebecca pointed to Mrs. Penner and Mrs. Tieszen, who waited by the cutting table. “Would you help them, please?”

Even though Mrs. Penner was Caleb’s mother, Katy liked the woman. Caleb resembled his mom with his red hair and freckles, but most of time he didn’t act like her. Mrs. Penner was one of the nicest people Katy knew. How had she ended up with a son like Caleb? Katy flashed a smile and moved quickly to the table. “I’d be glad to.”

Mrs. Penner placed a bolt of ecru cotton strewn with tiny green ivy vines on the table. “Five and a half yards, please.”

Katy set to work measuring the fabric.

Mrs. Penner fiddled with a spool of thread while she watched. “It’s good to see you, Katy. No forensics tournament today?”

Katy flipped the bolt several times, freeing more fabric. “There’s one in Minneapolis today, but I thought I might be helping Mrs. Graber with wedding preparations, so I didn’t sign up to go.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I know you enjoy competing, and I’ve heard you do very well.”

Katy sent her a quick look — could Mrs. Penner think
Katy had been boasting about her accomplishments? But she smiled sweetly. Katy swallowed a relieved sigh. “Thank you. I do enjoy it, and my teacher has been very encouraging.”

“That’s nice.”

Mrs. Tieszen stood listening to their conversation, her eyes looking round and owlish behind her thick glasses. “So you’ll continue on at that school after this year?”

Katy had only been given permission for her sophomore year, even though she hoped to go all the way through to earn her high school diploma, and maybe go to college. But after her conversations with Aunt Rebecca and Caleb, she needed to do some deep soul-searching. Dad had told her he trusted her to make the right decisions, but she knew she’d need help in choosing the right thing.

She answered carefully. “I’m praying about what is best for me.”
About next year, and this year’s homecoming activities.

Mrs. Tieszen nodded, satisfied. Mrs. Penner beamed in approval. And from across the room, Aunt Rebecca looked up and smiled. Their responses to her statement warmed her and let her know she was on the right track.
God, I’ll be asking. Please give me answers I can understand—and accept.

The morning passed quickly with lots of activity and shoppers. Aunt Rebecca finally released Katy at one o’clock to run next door to the little café to eat a hamburger for lunch. When she’d finished eating, she ordered an extra one and took it to Aunt Rebecca. Aunt Rebecca accepted it with a grateful, tired smile.

“Thank you. I haven’t had a single soul come in since you left. Maybe we can hope for a quiet afternoon. After our busy morning, we’ve earned it.” She sank onto a stool and unwrapped her hamburger. Bowing her head, she prayed, and then looked at Katy. “While I’m eating, would you mind straightening the fabric bolts on the back shelves? Mrs. Tieszen, bless her heart, has such a hard time seeing the information printed on the ends of the bolts, she has to pull everything askew. The whole shelf is a mess.”

Remembering the woman’s thick glasses, Katy nodded. “Sure, I can do that.”

She scurried to the back wall of the shop, where built-in shelves reached from the floor to the ceiling. Each
shelf held bolts of colorful fabric, which were usually standing upright like soldiers on parade. Katy rounded the corner and slapped her hand to her cheek in dismay. Half of the bolts had been pulled out and laid flat in haphazard stacks. The others were flopped sideways, leaning like a dilapidated fence after a windstorm. Calicos were mixed with paisleys, and two bolts of gingham had been moved from the top shelf to the bottom one. How could one woman make such a mess? Katy pressed her memory, trying to recall what Mrs. Tieszen had purchased. She snickered when she remembered.
All this rearranging for a quarter yard of plain blue cotton.

With a sigh, Katy set to work. An hour and forty-five minutes later, she brushed her hands together and smiled in satisfaction at the neatly organized shelves. When she turned to go ask her aunt what she could do next, her gaze fell on a bolt of fabric resting on the windowsill. With the sun streaming across it, the lavender fabric seemed to shimmer. Katy gasped in pleasure. She scooped up the bolt and smoothed her hand over the slightly stiff, sheeny fabric. She’d thought her purple tone-on-tone dress was made of the prettiest fabric she’d ever seen, but this lavender material was even lovelier.

Aunt Rebecca walked over and plucked the bolt from Katy’s hands. “Don’t put this on the shelves. I set it aside because I’m going to return it.”

Katy gawked at her aunt. “Why?”

Aunt Rebecca gawked back.
“Why?
Look at it, Katy!”

Katy looked. “What’s wrong with it?” The fabric appeared flawless, the smooth fabric such a delightful color. She imagined fairy princesses wore gowns of fabric like this.

Aunt Rebecca clicked her tongue on her teeth. “It’s organdy. None of the ladies in our fellowship would make a dress from organdy — too sheer.” She wrinkled her nose. “Organdy is fine for curtains or aprons, but can you imagine anyone hanging something that like in their kitchen window? It’s just too … gaudy.”

Katy gazed at the fabric. “It’s
never
used for dresses?”

Aunt Rebecca tapped her lips with her finger. “Well, yes, I suppose for specialty dresses — as an overlay for a silk or lightweight matelassé.” She dropped the bolt into Katy’s arms. “But it just isn’t practical. I must have written down the wrong number on my last order and received it by mistake. It needs to go back to the factory. So package it in some of that mailing paper in the storeroom and address it for me, would you? The factory’s address is on the pad beside the cash register.”

“All right.” Katy’s tennis-shoe heels scuffed as she moved to obey her aunt. She spread heavy brown paper across the work table then laid the bolt on the paper. The lavender against the plain brown made the fabric appear even more beautiful.
Cora and Trisha said all the girls wore beautiful gowns to the homecoming dance. Maybe I could use this fabric to sew a dress.
She drew squiggles on the fabric with her finger, imagining how she might look in the soft, shimmering lavender.

The sewing machine set up in the front window of the shop began to hum. Aunt Rebecca must be working on a project. Katy stared at the curtained doorway separating the shop from the storage area, her hands idle. She bit her lower lip. Aunt Rebecca expected her to prepare this fabric for return to the factory, and she should follow her
directions. Aunt Rebecca
was
the boss. But if this fabric went back, Katy wouldn’t have the opportunity to use it — if she decided to go to the homecoming dance.

She dashed to the doorway and threw the curtain aside. “Aunt Rebecca?”

Aunt Rebecca lifted her foot, silencing the machine. “What is it?”

“This organdy … could you maybe hold onto it a little longer?”

Her aunt scowled. “Katy, I told you — it isn’t practical. No one —”

“I might have a use for it. But I’m not sure yet. So could you wait until I know for sure?”

“When will you know?”

Katy drew in a breath and held it. Homecoming was only two weeks away. “Soon.”

Aunt Rebecca pushed the machine treadle. She raised her voice over the hum of the motor. “There’s a two-week return policy, and it came in yesterday. So it has to be postmarked by February twenty-sixth.”

The day of the dance.
“I’ll know before then.”

“All right, Katy. Set it aside then, and start vacuuming. I think I’ll be able to send you home early today.”

“Thank you!” Katy whisked the curtain back into place and trotted to the table. She scooped up the fabric and held it to her beating heart. Closing her eyes, she envisioned herself gliding around the dance floor with Bryce, the lights in the gym making the lavender fabric shimmer. She heaved a huge sigh followed by a little giggle. Then she set the bolt on a shelf in the corner of the storeroom and headed to the closet for the vacuum cleaner.

On Sunday after worship services, Gramma Ruthie invited Katy and Dad for lunch. She also invited Annika, and Annika eagerly accepted the invitation. Katy had never known Annika to refuse the opportunity to eat at someone else’s house. Annika did much of the cooking and cleaning up in her own home and complained about it. But guests weren’t expected to clean up, so Annika enjoyed being a guest. Katy wondered if Annika would ask people to her home for meals when she married and started a family of her own.

“Do you know what your grandma’s making for lunch?” Annika asked as the girls walked to the row of vehicles lined up on the sunny side of the church yard. “I hope she made a pot roast. Hers is always more tender than anyone else’s.”

Katy laughed. “Dad would say that’s because he butchered the beef.”

Annika rolled her eyes. “Of course a man who never does the cooking would try to take the credit.” But she grinned, so Katy knew she was joking.

The girls leaned against the hood of Dad’s truck and waited for the grown-ups to end their conversations and head for home. Even though it was February and supposedly winter, the past two days had proven mild and sunny. No one seemed in a hurry to leave the churchyard. Across the yard, Aunt Rebecca and Uncle Albert visited with Caleb’s parents. Katy smiled, thinking of how Aunt Rebecca had spoken to her like an adult rather than a child when she’d been so upset yesterday. Even though Aunt
Rebecca hadn’t hugged Katy, she’d spoken kindly. And Katy knew her aunt would follow through on her promise to pray for her.

Remembering Aunt Rebecca’s promise to pray reminded her what Caleb had said. Whirling toward Annika, she grabbed her friend’s arm. “Annika, I have to ask you something.”

Annika shifted and gave Katy her attention.

“Have you heard the young people talk about me? At parties or singings?”

Annika frowned. “Talk about you? How?”

“Calling me names, like stuck-up or —” Katy tried to think of a term Caleb would use. She said,“Smart aleck. Anything like that?”

Annika squirmed. “Why do you want to know?”

The hesitant reply confirmed Katy’s fears. She cringed. “Do I really act that way?”

Annika looked down and rubbed the toe of her shoe over the flat, brown grass. “Not on purpose, I don’t think. But sometimes, well …” Annika scrunched her face and peeked at Katy. “It’s just that you’re different. The way you say things. Probably because you’re always reading. You use words other people wouldn’t. It makes you seem kind of … weird.”

How Katy hated that word! She pressed,“But the others didn’t call me weird — they called me stuck-up?”

“Only a couple of the guys,” Annika said. She grabbed Katy’s hand. “But don’t let it bother you. They aren’t worth worrying about.” She glanced around, then turned back to Katy. “How’d you find out? I mean, did someone actually call you stuck-up to your face?”

Katy nodded. “Caleb did.”

Annika’s jaw dropped. “He didn’t!”

“He did. And he told me everyone else thought I was stuck on myself too.”

Annika cupped her hand over her eyes and searched the church grounds. “Where is he?”

Katy grabbed her arm. “Annika —”

Annika shook loose. “No! I’m going to let him know how rude he was. He shouldn’t have said that to you.”

“Yes, he should have.”

Annika stared at Katy in surprise.

“I needed to know.” Katy’s statement even surprised herself. She wouldn’t have ever thought she’d defend Caleb. “But,” she added,“he shouldn’t have said it the way he did — he was mad at the time.”

“Why was he mad?”