The Pastor's Wife Wears Biker Boots (12 page)

Norman looked at Bernice who scowled at him and back at Pete. “Well, uh, yeah, I mean, Bernice…
”

Elder Pete stood and pointed a long finger. “Bernice, let me tell you something. The world doesn’t revolve around you and your cotton-pickin’ desire to have meetings where you can sit and criticize the pastor and his wife. Now, if you have a real concern, that’s one thing, but if the only sin Kirstie has committed—in your eyes, not mine—is riding a motorcycle, then this is a waste of my time.” He ran the hand he’d pointed with across his face and looked at Aaron. “Pastor, I’m going home to my family, and I suggest you do, too.
” He popped the straps on his overalls and marched toward the exit.

Bernice drummed her hands on the table, unmoved by Elder Pete’s little speech. “What if I told you that Mrs. Donovan is a Satan worshipper? Would you think that was a good reason for a board meeting, Peter?”

Elder Pete turned around like a slow turtle and walked back to the table. “That’s a mighty serious accusation, there, Bernice.” He positioned his hands on the table and leaned in toward her. “You better have some good, hard evidence for it.”

“I do.” Bernice rummaged in her purse, pulled out a stack of photos and smacked them down in the middle of the table. “Take a gander at those and tell me what you see.”

The men passed the pictures around and squinted at them. I saw them last. I gasped, looking at pictures of me and the girls during our bike naming ceremony. In one of the pictures, Reba held her rattles and Lily pretended to smoke the peace pipe. I
knew
I’d heard a cough in those trees.

I threw the pictures on the table. “You spied on us?”

“I certainly did. Someone’s got to keep track of what’s going on around here. Your husband sure doesn’t.”

Now I shook on the outside as well as the inside. “You’re unbelievable.” I looked at Aaron and raised my eyebrows.

“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for these. Right, Kirstie?” Aaron looked at me and back down at the pictures.

“Of course there is. But it’s not right that I have to explain myself. Anyone who knows me would never believe I’d do something occultist.” The room went uncomfortably silent.

Aaron’s expression looked like a puppy in need of rescue.

I couldn’t resist those big brown, pleading eyes. “But of course, I’ll tell you. This was nothing but us getting together and naming our motorcycles. Reba’s the one who brought the pipe and the rattles. And if Bernice would tell the entire story, you’d know I neither smoked the pipe nor took part in any kind of Satanic anything. Our ceremony was a harmless meeting. Reba was simply trying to do something nice for us, and we were all being silly.”

Bernice nodded with satisfaction. “That Reba’s a bad influence. And you know, Sister Donovan…”
I hate it when she calls me that.
“We are to refrain from any appearance of evil. First Thessalonians 5:22.”

Elder Pete’s face went red, and I expected blood to shoot out of his eyes any minute. “Bernice, you are way out of line. Norman, you best be keeping track of your wife. An elder is supposed to be ‘one that ruleth well his own house’ First Timothy 3:4.” Elder Pete looked at Aaron. “Reverend, I’m going to be going my own way now. I’ve heard enough of this nonsense. And to think I missed breakfast with my own precious Tessa just to listen to this hogwash.” He stomped out the exit, and I could hear his farm boots stomp up the stairs.

Aaron sat frozen, looking down at the pictures in his hands.

Norman’s eyebrows twitched with anger, and Bernice’s lips quivered again
as she slapped two fingers to her lips and cleared her throat. “Well, I never…
”

“I never, either, Bernice.” Elder Watson, who rarely spoke except to vote yay or nay, startled me with his unexpected reply. “I never heard of such blatant silliness.” He stood and held out his hand to Aaron for him to shake. “Have a good day, Pastor.”

He left, too.
But Deacons Tim and Bartholomew remained unmoved. The two deacons looked at one another, and Tim nodded and opened his mouth a few times to speak before sound actually passed his lips.

“I agree with Bernice and Norman. I think we have an image problem here. I think it’s a good idea for Kirstie to tone it down
.”

Aaron shifted in his chair. “Tone it down?
”

“Yes. If she wants to ride she can do it less publicl
y.”

“And how can she do that?
”

“I don’t know. Wear a disguise or something so people don’t know who she is.
”

I bit my tongue and tried to be like Jesus and sit silent, but I couldn’t anymore.

“Why does it matter
if people know who I am?” I will admit my voice filled with vinegar and sauce.

Tim glared and spoke down to me like an authoritarian father. “It matters, young lady, because we’re not that kind of church. People might get the wrong idea about us.
”

Well, at least he considered me young. That was a plus.

“Not what kind of church?” Aaron asked.

Norman sat forward and pounded his fist on the table. “
That
kind of church. We aren’t the kind of church that’s full of gang members and bikers and such. We’re a nice, traditional, clean-cut church, and we want to keep things that way—the way they’ve always been.
”

“Jesus ate with sinners, Norman.
”

“And that’s fine, I’m sure, but our church needs to uphold its image. This is definitely not the image we want to portray to the community.
I’ve lived here all my life. My ancestors donated the land and materials for this building, and they’re rolling over in their graves right now at the thought of a bunch of greasy bikers taking over our pristine little country church.”

Bernice nodded so vigorously I thought her head would break loose and fling itself across the room. “Over my dead body.”

Tim nodded at Norman, and jutted his chin out in a gesture of encouragement.

This gave Norman the push he needed to keep going. “Pastors come and go. We’re here after you decide to move on. We know we’re nothing more than a stepping-stone to you. So, you come in here, change everything, and we’re stuck with the mess afterwards. Ain’t gonna happen. Not on my watch.”

Aaron stood. I followed his lead, not knowing what would happen. He clenched his fists and jaw, and I was almost afraid of what was coming, except that, I knew Aaron, and he wasn’t a fighter. He cleared his throat to speak.

“I’ve heard enough. I’m dismissing this meeting. I suggest you gentlemen pray about this issue, because I’m not going to ask Kirstie to change anything she’s doing. She has my blessing to ride her motorcycle whenever and wherever she likes. And I hope the entire town knows it’s her. This meeting’s adjourned.”

My darling husband, my knight and paladin, walked toward the exit, and I followed, my eyes straight ahead. I trembled, and I didn’t know if my noodle legs could climb the stairs, but somehow I reached the top. Once outside I gave Aaron the biggest hug since the Colts won the Super Bowl.

“Oh, Aaron, no one has ever defended me like that. Ever. Thank you.” I kissed him, and he pushed me gently away.

“I hope this motorcycle thing of yours is worth all this. I hope that didn’t just cost us my job.” He looked at the ground and kicked at a rock.

“You’re my white knight. I know you love me. But when you defended me in there I…”

My cell rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, girl, what’s up?” Reba’s deep voice sounded cheerful.

“Just got out of a board meeting.”

“Oh. Sounds boring. Get it? Bored. Board?” She cackled at her own pun.

I rolled my eyes. “Ha, ha. You’re funny. Whatcha need?”

“I think I can get us some rooms up in the Smokies. You up for a trip?”

“When?”

“Two weeks from Friday. What do you think?”

“In two weeks? I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to Aaron and call back.”

“Sure. Just let me know as soon as you can. Those rooms up there go fast. We should have started planning sooner. Gotta jet. Timmy just found the new box of bolts that came in today. I better make sure he doesn’t build a space shuttle or something.” She hung up. Reba usually forgot to say good-bye.

Aaron started up the hill toward our house, and I followed him. “Who was that?”

“Reba. She wants the Lady Eels to take a trip to the Smokies in two weeks. I told her I needed to talk to you about it.”

“What’s to talk about?”

“You mean, I can go?”

“Have you already forgotten what just happened in there? I’ve never stopped you from doing anything you ever wanted to do.” He smiled at me and held my hand.

“No, Reverend Donovan, you never have. Now that I’m a biker chick, do you sometimes wish you’d married a quieter, prim, and proper woman more suited to being a pastor’s wife?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Who wants plain vanilla when he can have the whole banana split?
”

17

“Timmy go! Timmy go!
”

Timmy pulled his suitcase, packed with his favorite jeans, shirts, and stuffed lizard babies, in and out of my bedroom
while I sorted through the piles of clothes on my bed.

“You can’t go this time, Timmy. The trip is just for girls.” I rolled up a pair of jeans and pushed them into my motorcycle sissy bar pack.

“Timmy
go
.” He clapped his hands, opened the suitcase, and ran to the bathroom to retrieve his toothbrush. “Timmy goooooo!
”

Timmy was on the brink of a meltdown, and I didn’t have the time or patience right now to deal with it. “Aaron! Where are you? Are you busy?”

No answer.

Patrick hollered at me as he ran down the stairs. “Mom, I’m going over to Adam’s house.”

“Wait!” I ran into the hall and looked at him from the top of the stairs. “Why are you going to Adam’s? Is his mom home?
”

“Mom, c’mon. I’m just going to Adam’s to play Wii
.”

“Is his mother home?” I raised my eyebrows
and plopped my hands on my hips.

“Yes, Mom. His mother’s home. I’m leaving now.
”
He huffed at me and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t talk to me that way, Patrick. I don’t deserve to be spoken to in that tone. And you should ask me, not tell me, you’re going somewhere. I’m still your mother.
”

“Like I could forget it?
”

“Patrick.
”

“Mom, I’m going to go now
, OK?”

I paused. Should I let him go? His attitude stank lately. Still, it was summer time, and he was restless
. Maybe Aaron was right. Maybe the sassiness was Patrick’s effort to cut the apron strings. What did I know? I’d never raised a boy to be a man.

“OK.” I hesitated and looked down from the landing at the floor below, trying to arrange my thoughts. “But you have chores to do when you get home. And I want you to give me a big hug and kiss before I leave tomorrow. Just think: a whole week without M-O-M.
”

“Fine.” He waved me off and ran out the door, slamming it behind him.

“Timmy
goooooo
.”
Timmy sat on my bedroom floor rocking back and forth and slapping his forehead.
I ran to him.

“Timmy, Timmy, stop it, honey. Don’t hurt yourself. “

My phone
rang from somewhere under the clothes spread all over my bed. I rummaged around for it and answered.

“Hello?
”

“So, you all packed, girl?”
Reba’s voice was unmistakable.

“No, not yet. I’m trying.”

“Timmy go. Timmy go. Timmy go! Timmy go!
” Timmy’s anxiety escalated, and he ran up and down the hall hitting the side of his head.

“What’s wrong with Timmy?”

“He wants to go with us.
”

“So? Let him
.”

“What?
” Did I hear her right?

“Let’s take him with us. He’ll have a blast.
”

How could I tell Reba that I had looked forward to this trip to get away from Timmy for a few days? How could I explain the nervous twitch in my eye when Timmy began to hurt himself? It made me nervous because he was nervous. Would it be too much to ask to have a break?

“But I don’t know how to ride two up yet.
”

“Not a problem. I’ll take Trace’s Goldwing and Timmy can ride behind me. You can take him short distances until you’re comfortable.
”

“But you love riding your Harley…”

“I like the Goldwing, too. Just don’t tell Trace ’cause I like giving him a hard time about it not being a Harley. It’s in the manual, ya know.”

“What is?”

“If you own a Harley, you have to give bikers who ride those foreign bikes a hard time.”

“Serious?”

“No, but I think it should be.” She cackled, and her laughter morphed into a hard cough. Those blasted cigs. “So, ya gonna let Timmy go or not?”

“I don’t know…
”

“Look, I don’t think he’s gonna change his mind.
”

She was right. If I didn’t take Timmy, Aaron was in for a huge meltdown that would last for hours, maybe days. Still, there were plenty of times Aaron left me alone with Timmy and the aftermath.
But I was more concerned for Timmy than Aaron.

It wasn’t only today that made living with autism difficult. It was looking ahead and knowing that as long as I lived, Timmy would need me. Some days, the reality felt heavier on my shoulders than Timmy’s weighted blanket.
But it didn’t change the fact I loved him more than life. He
would
have a great time on our trip.

“OK, he can go,” I barely spoke above a whisper.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll see.
”

“He’ll need to stop for bathroom breaks.”
Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.

“Your gas tank isn’t that big, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” Reba giggled and coughed again. My tank only held enough to go about one hundred miles without a fill-up.

I said good-bye to Reba, hung up the phone, looked at Timmy, and turned on my best smile.
I ran over and hugged him. “Timmy go!”

The tears and rocking stopped. He tilted his head. “Timmy go?
”

“Timmy go.”
I nodded.

He clapped and ran through the house.

“Dad-ee! Dad-ee! Timmy go! Timmy go!”

Daniel walked into my room smelling of chlorine, his eyes bloodshot from swimming. “What’s with Timmy?”