Something Old (31 page)

Katy stood. Megan and Lil both remained seated. But Katy joyfully noticed a large number of men and women stood with her. After they were counted, Mr. Weaver asked them to please be seated. Then he said, “All opposed to the present ordinance on the headdress, please stand.” Lil and Megan stood, and a lump of despair and unbelief filled Katy’s throat when she saw that the opposing side was equally represented. Her heart drummed inside her as she waited for the count to be concluded.

“Be seated.” Mr. Weaver coughed into his hand. “The opposed have it. The ordinance will be amended. This meeting is now adjourned.”

Stunned to silence, the congregation slowly rose and, Quaker-like, filed out of the meetinghouse. The winning side did not gloat, and the losers did not protest. Generations of practicing nonresistance came to the fore and governed the congregation’s actions. Everyone seemed to understand that it was best to just disband until everyone had time to pray over the elders’ decision since it was such a controversial matter. Katy followed the suit of the others, but inside, she felt turmoil. Soon the turmoil turned to anger.

When they’d reached the parking lot, Megan said, “I want you to know that I stood because I believe the only way we can keep the congregation from splitting is to allow everyone to make their own decision. I’m sorry. I know it hurt you. I hate to go, but I’ve still got homework.”

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.

O
n 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 vote. But at least you’ll be able to still wear yours. That won’t change.”

“It is a symbol. I feel like Megan’s professor. That without it, we’ll just become part of the world.”

“I don’t want to argue, but if it’s a symbol and someone’s heart isn’t really in it, then it makes them feel like a hypocrite. That’s how I felt. That’s not good, either. You know how Jesus hated hypocrites.”

She knew, because sometimes she felt like one, too. She’d felt like that after the ballet. “I know. I’m surprised you’re still wearing yours.”

“I figured it would break your heart if I didn’t.”

Katy saw the caring in Lil’s eyes. It brought back a memory flash.

That first summer at camp. In one of the group games, Lil had taken a different trail from Megan and Katy. They’d needed to pair off, and Lil had gone with one of the Mennonite girls who wore shorts. It was a scavenger hunt and race to a designated clearing. Katy didn’t remember who won, but what she remembered was the reunion and excitement at the clearing, and how they’d each shared their adventures.

She saw that’s how it was with them. How it always would be. They were always going to go at the goal from a different path. Her throat thickened, whether from the cough drop or her emotions, she wasn’t sure.

She whispered, “Bend down.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it.”

Lil bent, and Katy reached up and unpinned Lil’s covering. Lil straightened, her eyes round. In a sudden rush of emotion, she hugged Katy.

“You’re going to catch my cold.”

“I don’t care. I love you.”

“I know. But I expect to see that covering on at the church meetings.”

“Duh.”

“Okay, go start that soup. I need something to get me out of this bed.”

Lil started toward the door, then looked back. “Thanks for understanding.”

Once she was gone, Katy spit the cough drop into a small trash can and turned onto her stomach. Her own covering sat on her nightstand beside her cell phone. She punched her pillow and released her sobs.

That afternoon, Katy lay on the couch, reading an inspirational romance novel, but she was jolted out of the story when the heroine used the phrase
sensational solo woman.
The heroine was bragging that she didn’t need a man to find happiness. Since it was a romance novel, she assumed the heroine would change her mind somewhere in the plot. Still, she paused to toy with the idea. Could she remain single and be happy?

It was the Mennonite way for a woman to prepare herself for marriage and children. It was presumed that every woman sought fulfillment in wifely duties and motherhood. She’d always gravitated toward that end herself, dreaming of one day marrying Jake or after they’d broken up, some other godly man.

Much like the heroine in Katy’s story, Lil scoffed at the idea of a man fulfilling a woman. Lil liked guys, all right, but she was super-independent for a Conservative girl. During the church’s recent series on relationships, Brother Troyer had made it clear that fulfillment came from the Lord, not marriage. Perhaps that’s where this story was headed. Her interest piquing, she turned the page and started reading. But seconds later, she was interrupted again, this time by a knock at the front door.

“Come in,” she croaked, then clutched her neck. Realizing that nobody could hear her raspy voice and that Lil had locked the door, she stuffed her feet into slippers and shuffled off to see who was calling.

“Jake,” she said, staring through the cracked door with surprise.

Dressed in his work clothes, a dusty T, and sweat-stained baseball cap, he said, “Yikes, you okay?”

Katy mumbled, “Fine thing to say to a woman,” and turned to shuffle back to the living room. They’d only talked once since she’d been rude to him in the church parking lot. The phone conversation had been another attempt to patch their tempestuous relationship. She sank back on the couch, and looked up at him. “This is a house of germs, you know.”

He gave a wave. “I never get sick. Too ugly.”

She couldn’t resist the grin that belied that preposterous remark. “Real ugly,” she added.

“I’ve got the chair from Lil’s mom.”

She sat forward, “Great!” Then, involuntarily, her hand clutched her neck again.

“Can I leave the door open for a minute?”

“Sure. You need my help?”

“Nope.”

She soon heard a
plunk
in the kitchen. Then the door closed. Then a shuffling, and he manhandled the green-striped armchair into the room, lowering it in a vacant place off to her right. “Where you want it?”

“Move it about three feet to your left. Though we both know Lil will change it later.”

He chuckled, moved the chair, then flung himself down. “Nice,” he said, leaning back and making himself at home. Then suddenly he jumped up. “Oh sorry. Forgot how dirty I am. I came straight from work.”

“You’re fine,” she said uncharacteristically, too weak to bother with protecting the chair. “I could use some company.”

He glanced at her novel and sat more tentatively on the edge of the chair. “Wish you weren’t under the weather. I’m playing basketball later. Could use a fan.”

She thought about his flamboyant dunks. “Yes, I suppose you could.”

“Next time.” He took off his hat, set it on his lap. His wavy black hair stuck up in disarray, and she figured with her bed head, they made a pair of bookends about now. He fiddled with its brim. “We’re good. You and me. Right?”

She gave him a wry smile. “I’m tolerating you pretty good, yeah.”

He grinned. “Here it is, then. Mom wanted me to ask you if you’d like to clean for her.”

Katy grew serious. “Yes, but …” Her voice softened. “As you know, watching Minnie is a full-time—”

“She’d take Minnie with her. She knows Gram is a handful and thought that arrangement might work better. Mom could use the help.”

“Of course, I’ll do it. I’m just relieved that Ann would still want me.”

“She does.” He grinned. “So do I.”

T
he elders of the Big Darby Conservative Mennonite Church came up with their revised head-covering ruling and took it to the congregation for a vote. The new decree stated that a woman should wear a head covering of an unpretentious style to public meetings of worship and prayer. It was approved. Outside of that, the wearing of the head covering was a personal matter for a woman. Or if married, between a couple.

The new ordinance held no surprises, and neither did Katy’s interpretation of it. Since she’d became a Christian at church camp all those years earlier, prayer had become a natural habit for her whether it was congregational prayer, devotional prayers, or one-word prayers of praise or agony shot heavenward at various unplanned moments throughout the day. And she wasn’t going to be caught uncovered and unable to commune with God whenever she pleased or needed. The only time she removed her covering was when she showered or slept. She figured the water would be her covering in the shower, and her bedding would serve at night. She’d taken to heart her own mother’s advice on those two exceptions. As far as Katy was concerned, she was covered. The Lord knew her heart, and she was set on doing her part to please Him.

After the official vote, she determined to put the painful issue out of her mind. She didn’t want to stir up coals of anger against her church family who had disappointed her by voting down her precious tradition. There was nothing left for her to do but tamp down her feelings. It was the nonresistant way, the Mennonite way.

Even though Katy had initiated that moment when Lil quit wearing the covering around home, sometimes Lil’s uncovered head still shocked her and caused a niggling of anger to resurface. When that happened, Katy rehashed their conversation and forced herself to consider Lil’s point of view. She didn’t want her friend to wear it hypocritically. But as the days passed, Katy found it easier just to stuff her feelings.