Free Something Old by Dianne Christner Page A

accustomed to stares, the odd looks she often drew from outsiders served to ground her in her faith, reminding her of her true identity. She was a citizen of a higher kingdom. She walked in the truth. Outsiders had no idea that the heavenly kingdom was more glorious than the earthly one. It put Katy in an awkward position to be both out of place and right about life. And being right never kept one from being scorned.
    She reminded herself that hers was an everlasting kingdom where thieves didn’t steal, weather didn’t erode, and age didn’t wrinkle. At times like this, she wished she could tell the outsiders about her glorious kingdom, but would they listen to someone they considered plain and odd like a pilgrim? What could she say to make them desire her world over theirs?
    “Pardon me, miss.” a petite blond in jeans and a tight-fitting striped T-shirt jarred her from her thoughts. “Are you Addison’s new nanny?”
    “Yes, temporarily.”
    “Oh. Well, we were wondering. Are you European?”
    “No ma’am. I’m Mennonite.”
    “Oh.” Another woman with long hair twisted in a messy topknot burst into the conversation. “That’s right. You drive buggies and stuff?”
    Smiling at their naive curiosity, Katy gently corrected, “I brought Addison in my car. You’re thinking of the Amish.”
    The second woman’s face fell, and the blond snickered at her friend’s gaffe. “Well, we were going to go watch the older girls. They’re practicing for a Valentine’s Day performance. Want to join us?”
    “Sure.” Katy appreciated the kindness of their unexpected inclusion, and with a backward glance at Addison, she followed the two glamorous ladies down the hall. They stopped in front of a glass window to peer into another studio.
    Even before Katy looked through the glass, the sudden terrible blare of a worldly song invaded her body, hitting with thunderous force and clapping the forbidden beat through her veins. Her heart leapt wildly from the unexpected assault, and she scudded breathless to a halt. Just as unexpectedly, the music quit, but it left her quite shaken.
    With caution, Katy peered through the window. Her eyes widened at the bosomy, witchy-looking creature with wild, coal-black hair, who sashayed about the room. This instructor had dark-lined eyes with fake lashes. The lids were dark lavender even from a distance. Her lips were bloodred and drawn with exaggeration outside the lines. Her skintight top was dangerously low. She wasn’t slim and graceful like the other instructor, but embarrassingly curvy and provocative. And old. Katy pitied the woman who must have thought her painting and primping made her appear younger and attractive. It was a wonder her students didn’t have nightmares. It was a wonder they ever returned.
    The petite blond touched Katy’s arm, and she started.
    “This dance is so cute. They’re going to perform at the mall on Valentine’s weekend. Isn’t that fun?”
    With a slight nod, Katy looked over the girls in the class, junior high age and maybe older. She noticed dancers came in all sizes and shapes, her heart going out to the chubbier ones, the clumsier ones who at this age stuck out in a disparaging way. She heard the instructor—a Mrs. Tenny they called her—tell the girls, “Let’s go through the whole thing from the top. Remember to stay in sync with the lead girls.”
    Mrs. Tenny started the loud, offensive music again, and it assaulted Katy’s body just like it had the first time, only it wasn’t quite as startling the second time around. The girls started prancing forward then backward, and Katy saw that, as a whole, they moved in sync better than the younger girls. But all of a sudden the dance changed. The girls locked their hands behind their heads and shook their torsos, gyrating their hips seductively.
    Katy sucked in a shocked breath.
    As if transported into a lower universe, the music changed its cadence to accentuate the girls’ sensual