Summer of '65 (Bishop Family Book 1) Page 7

Another nod.

  "Has he been here before?"

  "A few weeks, I guess. He sits back here by the door and leaves the minute service is over—like he did today."

  Mr. Harris took absolutely forever to say what he was trying to say, but I just stood and listened to him. I couldn't believe my ears. I stared at Mr. Harris while I processed what he was saying. Silly as it may be, the thing that crossed my mind was that I knew my dad had noticed him if he had indeed been coming to the church for weeks. I wondered why my dad neglected to tell me when I mentioned his name. I only took a few seconds to think about that, though, because I had to focus on catching Michael before he left.

  "Thank you for telling me this," I said to Mr. Harris. I patted his arm before standing to focus on Alice. "I'm going to the parking lot to see if I can catch him," I said. I glanced over her shoulder at the congregation. They were talking in the sanctuary for now, but I knew they would soon be making their way outside.

  "Go," she said.

  Without argument, I ran outside, praying that I would find Michael in the parking lot. There were a set of stairs on the outside of the church, and I took my heels off before I ran down them. I had imagined that he would be waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, but he wasn't there. I held my shoes by the straps as I ran barefoot down the sidewalk that lined the gravel parking lot. I searched for a white car that looked like the one that had been following us the night before, but didn't see anything.

  It was then that I heard a whistle from my left. I turned to find Michael. He was standing next to his motorcycle, which was parked under a big tree near the end of the sidewalk. I waved at him, and he waved back before switching his hand motion to call me over. I jogged toward him, feeling overjoyed that he waited for me.

  He was sitting sideways on the seat of his bike, with his legs casually propped out in front of him, and he stood with a smile when I made it over there. He looked like James Dean only better.

  "What are you doing way over here?" I asked breathlessly as I came to a stop about ten feet in front of him.

  "It's pretty loud," he said, talking about his motorcycle. "So, I don't park anywhere near the building."

  "Have you been to my dad's church before?" I asked, stepping a little closer.

  He smiled and gave me a little nod. "I have."

  "Why didn't you tell me that?"

  "Because you didn't ask."

  I felt short of breath just looking at him. I remembered being in his arms the night before and I wished I had an excuse to be there again. I felt the urge to hug him and I had to concentrate on keeping my feet firmly rooted in place to prevent myself from doing so.

  "Why didn't you sing in church?" he asked. "You sounded good playing and everything, but I was really looking forward to hearing you sing."

  I glanced toward the church doors, which were now open. People had spilled out onto the stairs and were making their way into the parking lot.

  "I'm usually long gone by now," he said, seeing me look in that direction. He glanced at the commotion, and I could tell by the way he shifted on his seat that he was assuming we would soon be joined by some of them. He was right to assume that. There were several people who would be curious enough to come over there once they saw us—I could think of a few, starting with my brother.

  "I understand if you need to go," I said.

  "Should I?" he asked.

  I stared into his light blue eyes, wondering how he could ever ask such a question. "No," I said seriously. "If you're leaving it up to me, then I most definitely want you to stay."

  He licked his lips just before he smiled, and I stared at his mouth remembering kissing it. He nudged his chin in the direction of the church. "We've got company."

  I turned just in time to see Jacob's long body lumbering toward us. I knew he would be the first one out here. He might be sixteen, but he was still a big kid, and he ran toward us wearing a huge grin aimed at Michael. I couldn’t help but smile.

  "You came to our church?" he asked before he even came to a stop.

  "I sure did," Michael said.

  "Cool. Did you like it?" Jacob asked.

  "Yep."

  "Jacob, don't put him on the spot."

  Jacob looked at me and then at Michael as if he was putting together for the first time that we may be standing out there because we wanted to be in each other's company.

  "I can't believe you guys don't have Ivy up there singing. She would bring the house down in there."

  Jacob laughed as if Michael was joking because he had no idea to what extent I loved to sing and perform.

  "They don't, I don't, I usually just play the piano at church," I said. "I'm not really sure how Dad would react to me singing."

  "Dad loves your singing," Jacob said. "I heard him complaining that Mr. Dixon didn't ask you to sing a solo."

  "Have you never heard your sister sing soul music?" Michael asked, staring at Jacob. "Chuck Berry?"

  "Chuck Berry?" Jacob asked, laughing. "She listens to Chuck Berry?"

  "She does more than listen," Michael said. "She sings and plays." He was wearing a straight face and Jacob's smile faded into a serious expression.

  "You tellin' me you saw my sister sing Chuck Berry?" he asked.

  Michael looked me directly in the eyes. His expression said a thousand words. He told me without words that he could not believe my little brother hadn't heard me sing soul music, and that I was in real trouble for that. Jacob knew it, too, and he mumbled something about 'being left in the dark'. I grinned at Michael for giving me a hard time.

  "Jacob, run and tell Alice and the others that I'll be there in just a minute."

  "Are y'all going to Van's?" he asked.

  I shook my head. "We're going to Maw-maw's. She's cooking."

  Jacob nodded as he headed off, and just like that, I was left standing there with Michael. "You seriously need to share that talent with them, Ivy. It's silly for you not to sing gospel music with that voice."

  "I don't know that my dad would like it coming from me."

  "Your brother probably would," he said. I stared at him, and he smiled and shrugged. "I figured you had different moms."

  "And dads. He was adopted," I said.

  Michael shrugged. "He'll appreciate your gift, Ivy, and so will the rest of your family. You should share it."

  "I do share it," I said. "I played piano this morning."

  Michael gave me an easy grin. "It's not the same as what I saw last night, and you know it."

  "It's no big deal," I said with a little shrug.

  Michael squinted a little and tilted his head as he regarded me. "You're special, Ivy, you know that, right?"

  Feeling shy, I used my toe to turn over a rock. "Thank you, but I don't know if those two worlds should collide. The people here don't know me as that Ivy. That's a persona I invented once I moved away to Nashville."

  "The people last night at Jim-bo's got to see that other girl."

  I looked around. "Yeah, but none of those people are here," I said.

  Michael gave me a thoughtful expression as if he didn't quite see it my way, and I grinned at him before I looked toward the church. I knew as long as we were standing there, other people would make their way toward us, and I was already dreading the moment when Michael got antsy and had to leave.

  I turned to face him again. "Would you like to have lunch with us?"

  Chapter 10

  "I just heard you tell your brother that your grandma was cooking," Michael said. He was staring at me like that was a bad thing.

  "She is," I said. "She did. I think almost everything's cooked already. She just has to heat it up. My mom helps her. It's good food. You would like it."

  "I'm sure the food's great," Michael said.

  I smiled. "Good, so you'll come?"

  He shook his head regretfully. "I don't know," he said.

  "It's home cooking," I said. "My grandma knows what she's doing. I really miss it when I'm away at schoo
l." (I had once heard that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, and I had faith in Maw-maw's cooking to come through for me.) "Stuffed chicken and squash casserole, I think—and rolls." I added with a shrug.

  "You don't have to convince me about the food," he said. "I'm sure it would be pretty much the best meal I've ever eaten in my life."

  I smiled. "It pretty much would be."

  Michael had been glancing over my shoulder towards the church, and he motioned that way and smiled at me regretfully. "It looks like they're having an intense conversation over there," he said.

  I turned and realized my brother was talking to my dad. They were looking our way and my dad didn't seem very pleased.

  "Maybe I should let you go," he said.

  My head whipped around and I regarded Michael with furrowed eyebrows. "I'm not worried about him," I said. "I asked you to come over for lunch, and I meant it. My grandma always makes plenty. We have people over every week." I motioned toward the church. "There's probably like five other people coming. Nobody will even notice you're there."

  "I'm pretty sure your dad will notice," Michael said with an easy grin.

  I turned to glance at my father who was still watching us like a hawk. He had obviously sent Jacob back over because he was running toward us again.

  "Dad said we need to come now," Jacob said, breathlessly. "Alice is giving us a ride, and we have to go to Mrs. Miller's and get some tomatoes. She meant to bring them to church, but she left them up on her windowsill."

  "Michael's coming over to Maw-maw's for lunch," I said. "I'm gonna ride over there with him. You can still ride with Alice and them, though, and we'll meet y'all there."

  "How are you gonna ride with him?" Jacob asked, looking around as if expecting a car to pop out from behind the tree.

  "I'm gonna hop on the back of this thing," I said. I smiled at Michael, hoping he would back me up.

  "I'm fine with it, Ivy, but I'm almost positive your dad doesn't want you doing that. I didn't even think I was doing lunch with you guys, actually. That's a lot. It might be best if you just ride with your friend like your brother was saying."

  "Best for who?" I asked. "Definitely not me. I'm dying to try one of these." I looked at the seat. "Can it hold two of us?"

  "Yes, it can hold both of us," Michael said. "But if you get on this motorcycle, your dad will have even more of a reason to hate me."

  I wanted to tell Michael he was wrong, but I couldn't. I knew he was right, and I felt embarrassed because of it. I thought about what everyone wanted me to do. I thought about letting Michael drive away. I would get in the car with Alice and Jacob, and go pick up tomatoes at Mrs. Miller's like a good girl.

  "No," I said.

  "No what?"

  "No, I'm not doing that plan," I said. I looked at Jacob. "I had already asked Michael if he wanted to come eat lunch before you ever came over here," I said. "I'll just go tell dad plans have changed. It's no big deal. You and Alice can take care of getting the tomatoes, and I'll ride with Michael." I shifted to stare at Michael. "Wait right here." I started to turn and walk off, but I flinched and faced Michael again with a smile. "Please."

  He grinned at me and shook his head almost imperceptibly.

  My dad wasn't excited about me riding on the back of a motorcycle, but I didn't give him much of a choice. I told him I loved him and showed respect for his concern, but also said that I was in no way planning on being talked out of doing it. I reminded him that I was a grown woman and a reasonable person, and then I added that I had always wanted to ride a motorcycle. I even used my ace in the hole and I said God would want us to show love to Michael Bishop—especially since he had been coming to the church for weeks and my dad had never met him.

  I talked to my dad for about three minutes before stopping to let Alice and Jacob in on the plan. It had been about five minutes by the time I made it back to the far side of the parking lot where Michael was waiting. He was parked beneath the farthest oak tree, and I slowed once I got to the tree that was just before it. I smiled at him as if I was being coy, but really, I was just allowing myself a second to catch my breath.

  I was walking toward him, trying to look cool and wearing my most appealing smile when Michael smiled and held up a finger, indicating the number one. I grinned back and held my finger up, too, thinking we were exchanging some secret code that I didn't even know about. It was at that moment that I felt a sharp, stinging blow as something small hit me right on top of the head. I heard the sound of snickering, and within seconds, I put it together that there were kids in the tree, and the object that just hit me had been thrown.

  I scowled and looked upward as the giggling continued. "What are y'all doing up there?" I asked. I squinted into the branches, and recognized the boys as some who had been coming to our church their whole lives.

  "Are you going over to the motorcycle man?" Levi asked.

  "Yes, I am."

  "Are you gonna ride on it?" he asked.

  "Probably." I started walking toward Michael again, but I called back at them from over my shoulder. "Y'all shouldn't throw things from trees," I said. "Especially at ladies."

  "Can I have a ride?" Levi yelled.

  "Not this time!" I yelled as I continued to walk away. "Y'all's mamas'll be lookin' for y'all!" I added.

  I smiled at Michael as I got closer, and he gestured with a flick of his chin toward the tree. "Couple of monkeys," he said.

  I nodded. "They wanted a ride."

  "What'd you tell them?"

  "That it was my turn."

  He was straddling his bike, and I stepped closer to him, smiling at the sensation I got at the sheer sight of him. I felt electrical impulses moving through my body at the thought of getting on the back of that motorcycle.

  "They called you motorcycle man," I said, grinning.

  "Who?" he asked.

  "The monkeys."

  "I'll have to catch them next time," Michael said, glancing into the neighboring tree.

  I gave him directions to my grandma's house, and asked him when and how I should get on his motorcycle. He glanced at my legs. "I think the bare feet are cute, but you need to put on your shoes. I wish you had on pants, too, instead of that skirt. I hope your grandma's house isn't too far."

  I stepped closer, looking at him with a sincere expression. "I'm just realizing that I didn't ask your opinion on any of this," I said. I glanced down at my own bare legs. "I'm sorry. I just took the liberty to invite myself onto the back of your bike. I probably shouldn't have done that. I was so worried about not letting you leave that I didn't even think to ask what you wanted to do. Do you even want to come over for lunch?"

  His face broke into a grin and I felt relief wash over me.

  "I find that I'm really fond of being near you, Ivy Lewis, so both the lunch date and the motorcycle ride are ideal as far as I'm concerned."

  His confidence and composure made me feel a type of anticipation I previously knew nothing about. I was mad about him, completely gone over him. He reached out onto the handlebars and then made some kicking motion with his foot, and I heard the bike's engine rev to life.

  I giggled at the surprise and the way it rumbled my chest, and Michael smiled and shook his head in amusement. He had to yell over the sound of the engine, but he told me exactly what to do and how to get on. He pointed to a place near my leg and warned me that it would soon be very hot and that I should avoid touching it. He assured me he would go slow and told me everything would be okay if only I would hold on tightly to him by the waist.

  I lifted my leg over the motorcycle with as much grace as I could manage. I obviously wished I had on pants, but I was glad for the full skirt because I had plenty of material to wrap around my legs and keep me covered. I tucked and adjusted my dress for a few seconds, making it into something that resembled funny-looking pants before wrapping my arms around Michael's waist.

  "You ready?" he yelled.

  I nodded, and he revved the engin
e one time before slowly taking off. I held onto him tightly, resting my face against his back as we drove through the parking lot. There were lots of people standing around and making their way to cars, so Michael drove cautiously and along the far edge.

  I watched the amazed looks on people's faces as we drove by. It was surreal. I couldn't believe I was taking off from the church parking lot on the back of a motorcycle, and I figured most of these people thought I had lost my mind. I saw people nudging and pointing at us.

  Michael turned onto the street, and the shifting of the bike made me realize once again that we were balancing. It hit me that I had to completely trust him to keep us balanced and upright. The thought gave me a vulnerable feeling, which somehow translated into a rush of adrenaline. I smiled as Michael revved the engine, going a little faster now that we were out on the open road.

  I beamed as I watched the scenery pass by. I had been in a nervous daze while we were in the church parking lot, so it was just starting to hit me for the first time that I was physically touching Michael. I paid attention to my fingertips only to realize that they were making obvious contact with the rows of taught muscles that outlined his ribs. That same electrical impulse grew even stronger, and I actually had the fear that I might do something crazy like completely let go of him while we were riding. I reminded myself again to hold on tightly.

  "You okay?" Michael asked looking to the side and yelling at me.

  "Yep," I yelled, tilting my face to aim my voice at his ear. "This is so much fun!"

  "You can pick your head up," he said. "If you want to see what's going on."

  "I can?" I asked. I tentatively stretched upward.

  "Don't let go or anything, but you also don't have to keep your head buried in my back like that."

  I slowly became more comfortable with straightening up, and by the time we made it to my grandma's I was able to look around at our surroundings.

  "Oh my goodness, that was so fun!" I said once he parked and cut the engine.

  Michael made sure the bike was steady and held my hand from over his shoulder while I got off. He kicked his leg over, coming to stand beside me.