The Pastor's Wife Wears Biker Boots (14 page)

“Reba, I’m sorry. We might have to delay the trip a day. I need to make sure things on the home front are going to be OK before I go.”

“No problem. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Reba?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“That’s what friends are for, girl.” She hung up.

My eyes felt like marshmallows, and my head throbbed from crying. I hadn’t slept more than two hours.

As always, Timmy woke up at 6:00 AM. It didn’t matter what time he went to bed—he always woke up at the same time.

I stumbled downstairs and turned
Cops
on TV, made him two pieces of gluten-free toast with peanut butter, and went back to bed with Aaron still snoring. As I slipped in beside him, he woke up.

He yawned into his pillow and groaned. “Aren’t you going to get up and pack for your trip?”

“No.” I rolled over with my back to him and pulled the covers closer to my chin.

“Why not?” He propped himself up on his elbow and leaned over my face to look at me.

I closed my eyes and stuck out my lower lip. “I’m mad.”

Aaron flopped back on his pillow and stared at the ceiling. “I can’t believe we’re going through this.”

I didn’t open my eyes. “Me either. I thought if you did everything right your kids would be OK. What good does it do to raise them right if you get the same results? I’m depressed. I can’t make sense of anything anymore. Everything I’ve believed about raising children turns out to be wrong.” Tears seeped out again.

“Patrick must decide for himself who he’s going to serve.” Aaron rubbed my back gently. “Even God’s children in a perfect garden disobeyed their perfect Father.”

Why did Aaron have to be right? I didn’t feel like being reasonable right now. I felt like stomping my feet like a two-year-old and demanding justice.

“I can just hear Norman and Bernice, now.” I sniffed.

Aaron sighed. “We don’t need to worry about pleasing Norman and Bernice. We only need to be concerned with pleasing God.”

“You sure have a change of attitude this morning.” It annoyed me how quickly he’d reconciled the situation.

“Prayer changes things,” he said.

Then I remembered.

Aaron got out of bed about an hour after we both lay awake and went downstairs alone.

I was too tired to follow him.

BLAM! Our oldest son, the human torpedo, flew through the door and jumped on the bed. This was cute when he was three years old, but at age seventeen, he surely created a tsunami in our bed.

“Timmy go! Timmy go!”

I groaned. Obviously Timmy was finished watching
Cops
. I should have put a video in.

Aaron kissed my cheek and jumped out of bed. “Go ahead and rest. You have a big trip ahead of you, and I want you alert. I’ll take the boys to the Fried Eel for breakfast.”

“Eels! Eels!” Timmy jumped off the bed and plowed into Daniel’s room to jump on his bed until his little brother woke up.

I rolled to my back and threw my arm over my eyes. “I told Patrick to go to his room and not come out until we talked to him this morning. But I’m just too tired…”

Aaron clicked off the alarm. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

I moved my arm from my face and eased up on my elbows to look at him. All I could see through my haze of exhaustion was a blur of a man standing at the end of my bed getting dressed. “What are the consequences for what he did?”

Aaron pulled on his jeans. “I’ll ground him for life.”

“Sounds good to me.” I flopped back, rolled over, and shut my eyes. “Be sure to stop by the hardware store to pick up padlocks and chains.” I yawned and nestled my head into my pillow. “Seriously, what are we going to do?”

“Well, for today and the rest of this week while you’re gone, I’m going to keep him busy helping Deacon Billy landscape the church grounds. And when he’s finished with that, he has plenty to do around the yard here. We both know how much he loves yard work.”

I snorted. “Oh, yeah. It’s right up there on top of his list with dental drills and algebra. Good thing Timmy won’t be here. He’d be jealous.”

Timmy loved yard work.

Aaron sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his shoes. He chuckled. “I filled Billy in on the situation. He told me he was grateful to be trusted and that he’d do a lot of listening to Patrick. I know he’ll give good advice, too.”

I smiled into my pillow. “Thank him for me, OK?”

“I sure will. You rest.”

“Thank you.” I drifted into blissful, ignorant unconsciousness.

****

“Get up, girl. You’re sleepin’ your life away.” Lily pulled my covers off and opened the blinds. Blazes of sunshine seared my eye sockets.

I threw the covers over my head and yelled, “Hey, cut it out. I can’t ride if I’m blind.”

Lily poked me in the side with a pointy finger. “Get up. Time’s a wastin’.”

“Leave me alone.” I burrowed deeper under the blankets.

“Get up. Now.” She slapped me on the backside. “Whatcha doin’ layin’ in here like a lazy hog?”

“I was up all night.” I moaned, unmoved, and refused to open my eyes.

“Well, you’re not gonna sleep tonight if you don’t get up. Now, c’mon. Quit your lollygaggin’. We need to get rollin’.”

“I don’t want to. I want to stay right here where it’s safe and cozy and nothing can make me cry.” I meant it, too.

“You think you’re the only one who’s ever wrestled with a rebellious teenager? Good heavens, child, if I’d stayed in bed every time my kids exerted their little independent hairy selves, I’d have out slept Rip Van Winkle.” Lily grabbed my covers again and yanked them off onto the floor.

Timmy barreled into my room and bounced on the bed. “Timmy go! Dragon! Dragon! Timmy go! Dragon! Dragon!”

“Timmy, stop it!” I yelled.

He giggled.

“Timmy, tell your mom to get up so we can go,” Lily egged him on.

I wanted to strangle both of them.

“We go, Mama. Get up, Mama. We go!”

“Oh, Timmy, Mama doesn’t feel good and…”

Lily began pulling me out of bed. “We leave in two hours. Aaron helped me finish packing for you and Timmy. Everything’s ready, and we’re all waiting on you. Your husband sent me in here to get you up. Far be it from me to disobey my pastor. Hit the showers and don’t sit on a pity pot while you’re in there, either.” Lily managed to guide me to the bathroom and push me into a cold shower with my jammies on.

I was definitely awake now. Tomorrow’s headlines came close to featuring murder at the hands of a psychotic pastor’s wife in the parsonage bathroom. But as the shower warmed up and I let myself think about a ride with the girls, sanity and reason returned. Maybe even a little excitement grew in my heart. A good long ride on Heaven could be the perfect medicine for what ailed me.

****

Two hours later, Timmy sat behind Reba on her Goldwing, tall and straight, prince of the iron horses. His smile and enthusiasm were contagious, and I felt nervous and excited, too.

Reba pulled on her gloves. “We’ll ride two or three hours and stop. That way we won’t need to drive so many hours tomorrow. We’ll stop in Indy for supper and get a room there. How’s that sound?”

Lily revved her Honda. “Peachy.”

I forced myself into a better mood and worked up a little enthusiasm for the trip. “This is going to be so much fun. Woo-hoo.”

Opal scowled and fumbled with the chinstrap on her helmet. “I can’t believe I’m letting you lead me into Indianapolis.”

I reached over and gave her shaking hands a squeeze. “Don’t worry, Opal, I’ll be right behind you making sure you’re safe.”

Aaron prayed over us before we left.

Reba took the lead, and behind her to her right rode Lily. Behind her to the left tiny Opal rode tall on her little Rebel, and I sailed behind Opal on the right. We looked like experienced riders. Riding with my girlfriends in perfect formation was as thrilling as riding with the Patriot Guard. The Lady Eels performed a beautiful dance of chrome, power, and girlfriends on a mission.

Timmy held his arms straight out from his sides as if he were flying. It occurred to me that riding probably felt as free to Timmy as he could ever feel. He loved the rumble of the engine, and he memorized the routes. If I made the trip to the Smoky Mountains again, Timmy would be able to tell me how to get there.

We drove for about an hour until we got to Elwood where we filled up with gas.

Opal pulled off her helmet and gave me a high five. “What a ride. We looked great out there, don’t you think, Reba? Except, I hate semi-trucks. The monsters about blow me off the road.”

I poured a bottle of cold water over my head and down my shirt. My protective jacket was necessary, but stifling. “I know. The trucks blow my bike, too, so I know they’ve got to be blowing you everywhere. But you did great, Opal. Aren’t you proud of yourself?”

Opal grinned and pulled off her sunglasses to look at me. “You know, I am. I never thought I’d do something like this. Now I wish I’d learned to ride a long time ago. I feel like a whole other person. I’m not as afraid of people now. Who would think a motorcycle would make me brave?”

“I would have.” Lily replaced the cap on her tank. “It’s what brought me out of my shell.”

I replaced the gas nozzle. “I’m not sure I have a shell to come out of.” I thought for a minute. “I don’t think.”

Everyone laughed.

After drinking several bottles of water and wetting our neck wraps and T-shirts to keep us cool, we hit the road again. By early evening, we pulled into the hotel. Reba had booked one with a water park inside for Timmy.

“My treat.” She smiled after we pulled in and dismounted. “This room’s on me.”

The water park worried me. “It’s so thoughtful of you, Reba, but Timmy might be overwhelmed with the noise and the splashing.”
He might be too afraid to get in the water.

“He’ll get in.” She grinned. “You watch.”

Reba was right.

Once Timmy saw the fascinating things to spin, and all the wheels to turn to change the flow of water in different places, he got right in the middle of rushing waves, squealing children, and surprise bursts of water. Timmy tried everything with the kind of enthusiasm only he could exude.

“I wouldn’t believe he’d do this if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.” I watched as he ran around clapping in the wading pool, trying out all the different spigots. He was gentle with the children around him and waited his turn. Timmy loved kids. But he looked huge next to younger school-age kids in the same area.

One of the mothers removed her children from the line Timmy waited in to play with one of the fountains. She glared at me and at Timmy. Her ignorance made my heart ache with the kind of pain that encompasses the lost future dreams a mother has for her child.

A dad spoke up, “Hey, kid, you’re too big to be in this part of the pool. Get lost.”

Reba growled, but I glued my hand to her arm to hold her back and then jogged over to Timmy. “C’mon, sweetie. Let’s go over to the other side and see what’s over there.” I led him to where other spigots and gears stood ready to turn and spin. I got several rude looks, but I didn’t care. My boy was playing in water and having fun. A rare thing in a strange place. This was progress.

“What’s your problem?” one of the parents yelled at me.

Reba waded over and talked to her. I don’t know what she said, but afterwards no one bothered us anymore. Then she came over and pulled on my arm. “C’mon. Leave him alone, and let’s see what he does.”

I resisted her. “But…”

“He’s capable of a lot more than you think, Kirstie. Don’t limit him so much. You’re too protective. You can’t always be there, you know. He’s got to learn to navigate things himself.”

Ouch. Did I limit my son? Was I overprotective?
I bristled, but as I watched Timmy interact with other children and parents, I wondered if there was truth in Reba’s words.

After cooling off in the water park, Reba taught Timmy how to order pizza over the phone and count out the correct change for the delivery. Once the veggie supreme pizzas arrived—one with cheese for everyone else, and one without for Timmy—I removed the crust and garnished the rice cakes I had packed with his pizza toppings. We all feasted on pizza, chips, and apple juice. OK, I may or may not have had a soda on the sly. Afterward, our tummies full of junk food, we headed to bed.

Tomorrow would be a long day of riding. We would make our way to Tennessee and North Carolina—and The Dragon
.

20

“I’m not doing it.” Opal removed her helmet and gloves, sat on a porch bench at the Tallassee storefront, and folded her arms.

Reba dismounted her bike and trotted up the steps. “You have to
.”

“I don’t have to do anything.” Opal looked Reba right in the eye and stayed firm.

I felt growing concern.
We’d made our way through Indiana, Kentucky, and Tennessee and were ready to ride down the portion of Highway 129 known as The Dragon at Deal’s Gap because of its 318 curves in eleven miles—and Opal was in a panic.

“You don’t have a choice.” Reba sat
beside her and looked straight ahead.

“What do you mean, I don’t have a choice?”

“There’s only one way off this mountain, and that’s down the The Dragon. Now, you can either go down that way, or you can drive one hundred miles all the way around to our lodging, and we’ll enjoy the hot tub before you.”

Opal glared at Reba. “I hate you,” she whispered so Timmy couldn’t hear.

Lily and I gasped and laughed.

Those words coming out of Opal, the princess of all things prim and proper, was hysterical.

The Lady Eels sat on the porch and watched bikers come and go out of the store.

I marveled at the different motorcycles and wanted to talk to each rider and find out where they were from. Many wore their vests as we did, so we could tell which clubs or groups they belonged to.

Reba pulled out a cigarette, tilted her head to the sky, and blew out a puff of smoke. “Look, Opal.” She took another draw on her cig and slowly blew the smoke out again. “You can ride as slow as you want. Pull over to the side if you see someone fast coming up behind you so they can pass safely. There’ll be some young idiots riding too fast to prove their mettle. Unfortunately too many of them don’t make it.”