Son of a Preacher Man

by Karen M Cox

  I got my own come-hither smile and felt my insides heat up. How did she do that with just a look? And did it work on every man the way it worked on me?

  “Whatcha hidin’ behind your back, handsome?”

  “I have a surprise for you. Got it yesterday.”

  She stood up and tried to reach around me, but I backed up a step.

  “Nuh-uh-uh.”

  “Oh, I see. I’ve got to earn it. I don’t care what you’ve got there, Billy Ray. I’m not washing your underwear.” She arched an eyebrow in challenge.

  “I have it on good authority that there is at least one young woman in town who would wait in line outside the laundromat to wash my underwear, thank you very much.”

  “Hardy-har-har.” She lunged toward me, reaching for the book again, but once more I eluded her.

  “You’re an awful tease.”

  “I’m holding out for something.”

  “Playing hard to get, aren’t you?” A big, dramatic sigh escaped her mouth. “What’s it gonna cost me?” Her voice sounded forlorn, but she was smiling.

  “Hmm, let’s see. You won’t do my wash.”

  She wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

  “I’ll have to think of something else.”

  The giant rumble of a truck drew her attention to the street behind me, and her smile faded. I turned my head and saw the Dairy Queen Pick-up Goons from that night outside the Laundromat. The truck slowed down, but there were no catcalls this time. After a long look from the boys inside, the truck sped off down the street, and Lizzie let go her trademark whoosh of relief.

  “They don’t bother you anymore, do they?” I asked, an undercurrent of anger in my voice.

  “Nope, not since that night they saw me with you.” She stepped close and tilted her chin up to look at me. “In fact, after that night, I’ve hardly gotten any attention at all. Either I’m losing my touch or escorting you around town is hurting my image.”

  “I’ve had some unexpected benefits from our friendship as well.”

  “Oh, really.”

  I nodded. “Marlene has left me alone for three weeks. She’ll hardly say a word to me. It’s been like heaven on earth.”

  “I know I always liked it when she was too mad to talk to me.” She stood up on her toes. “So, what’s the fee to see the surprise, Billy Ray?”

  I squinted off in the distance. “Mmm—guess I’ll have to settle for a kiss.”

  She plopped back down on her bench, staring at me like a wounded animal. A long pause ensued. “I see. Anything else I can do to go with that?” Her voice was chilly, and it sent the temperature around us plummeting.

  I instantly sobered too, and I could have kicked myself for not realizing how that must have sounded to her ears—just one more man asking for a piece of her. I sat down beside her in a hurry and brought the book around in front of me.

  “I was teasing, Lizzie, honest. I didn’t mean it that way. Not that I don’t want to kiss you. I mean I wouldn’t mind—no, I’d like to—um, if you want…” Giving up, I shrugged helplessly and held the book out. “Here. It’s my college biology textbook.”

  I dared a look up to her face. A tremulous smile with the barest hint of amusement greeted me, which made me feel a bit bolder. “You can look up anything, read anything. I won’t need it before fall anyway.” I put it in her lap.

  She opened the book slowly and ran her hands over the table of contents before turning through the pages. Her gaze shot up to my face, full of wonder. “It’s got color photos of plants in it!”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “And animals and drawings, and—oh my!” I leaned over to see what page she was on and grinned when I saw a diagram of human anatomy. She giggled and closed the book.

  “Thank you, Billy Ray. It’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m sorry I acted that way before.”

  “It’s okay. I think I understand.”

  “I kind of got used to not having to watch my step when I’m with you.” She reached over and gave my forearm a quick squeeze. “I forget that you’re a fella sometimes.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I never forgot that she was a girl—not for one second.

  She laughed. “Maybe not forget. You’re better than any run-of-the-mill fella. It’s been sort of a relief, not having to always be on my guard because of what some stupid boy told you about me. I’m not feeling sorry for myself or nothing, but—well, you wouldn’t know anything about it, I guess.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. Maybe it’s like everyone thinking I’m perfect because my father’s the preacher.”

  She smiled at me, and all of a sudden, they appeared: fireworks—bright, hot, and exciting. I saw them in her eyes and heard them exploding in my head.

  We sat there just looking at each other, and then I realized our mouths were about two inches apart. I stopped breathing, and her eyes fluttered closed as she pressed her lips to mine. They were soft like rose petals, and when she pulled back, I chased them until I was kissing her again. I trailed the backs of my fingers down the bare skin of her arm before gripping it to draw her to me.

  Just then, the book clattered to the ground, and we drew apart, bumping heads leaning over to get it. We both sat up, laughing, and while she looked at the book, chattering away about the pictures, I kept my arm around her, gently guiding her head to my shoulder. I kissed the top of her hair and looked over top of it onto the street.

  Straight into the eyes of my father.

  Dad and I stared at each other for what seemed an eternity, but in reality, was probably only a few seconds. I leapt to my feet.

  “Dad!”

  Lizzie looked up, first at me, and then she watched as my father approached from the sidewalk. His countenance was stern yet controlled. If he was angry, he certainly wasn’t showing it.

  I could feel Lizzie’s eyes back on me. I cast a quick look at her and caught a vulnerability I had never seen before. As he did with many people, my father and his strong presence must have intimidated her.

  “Hello, Son,” he said gravely, extending his hand to shake mine and putting his other arm around me in a brief hug.

  “I didn’t expect you till Saturday. Is something wrong?”

  “No. I came early”—he cleared his throat—“to visit with you and check in with Miss Quinlan’s father about her baby sister’s christening.” He turned a guarded eye toward Lizzie but didn’t address her directly even to greet her or ask about her family or anything. I couldn’t remember a time when my father had been so dismissive of anyone—no sinner, no backslider, no recalcitrant child. He was downright rude for the first time ever in my memory of him. Shock flooded my system, and I turned to Lizzie to see if she noticed his odd behavior too.

  Tears filled her eyes. She stole another quick look at Dad, who was frowning down at his shoes with his arms folded across his chest.

  And then the most staggering, terrifying thing happened. As if a curtain had descended, her expression hardened like a plaster mask. The fallen woman appeared before me, conjured out of thin air. Her eyes dried up and glittered cruelly. Her lips curved in a garish, red smile.

  “Thanks for showing me your etchings, Billy Ray.” Her voice was like a cat’s purr, but it wasn’t an alluring sound; it was almost feral. “Perhaps you’ll let me show you my appreciation some time.”

  She met my father’s shocked gaze with eyes blazing hot and angry while she shoved the book against my chest, making sure her breast dragged against the back of my hand when I reached up to hold the heavy volume.

  “Keep it,” I said, not sure what was going on between the three of us. “You can give the book back when you’re finished with it.”

  “No skin off my nose.” She shrugged and stepped back, sliding her index finger down the front of my shirt till it rested on the book. Then, she let me place it in her hands.

  “It’s whatever you like.” She stro
de away, swinging her hips from one side to the other.

  I was left staring after her, wondering who that young woman was, and astonished at how quickly my light-hearted companion of the last month had vanished into the hot, muggy summer afternoon. Dad cleared his throat.

  “I think Mrs. Miller has supper almost ready,” he said without emotion. We turned simultaneously and walked toward Cavanaugh Street, completely in silence, perfectly in step.

  Chapter 9

  Dad’s pensive mood continued through supper. I could barely eat, anticipating a difficult conversation later in the evening. Emotion rolled off him, agitated and intense, and I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

  “Did you have good weather for your travels, Reverend?” Mrs. Miller asked politely.

  “Yes, I did, thank you for asking.” He carefully cut his pork roast and paused with his fork above his plate to address Mrs. Miller again. “While I’m thinking of it, I also wanted to thank you and your family for your kindness to my son while he stayed in Orchard Hill.”

  Dr. Miller smiled at me. “I enjoy having him around. He’s a great help to me, and he’s sharp as a tack. He’ll make a fine physician.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I said, grateful for the compliment.

  Mrs. Miller replied as well. “And he’s been no trouble—absolutely no trouble at all.”

  Marlene broke in, a smug, evil smile on her face. “In fact, he’s out and about so much, we hardly even know he’s here.” She put a forkful of sweet potatoes in that hateful mouth of hers and looked at me with doe-eyed innocence.

  She knew! Somehow, that Jezebel knew Dad had seen me with Lizzie Quinlan. I wondered how far her treachery went. Had she spread some awful tale that ran through the gossip mill and brought him to Orchard Hill unexpectedly? Did she know he was coming and hid it from me? Or did she just send Dad over to the library to find me when he arrived?

  I wondered if I’d had the chance to prepare him—and prepare myself—would it have even mattered? Or would his reaction have been the same regardless of the circumstances?

  Dad bristled but kept his eyes on his plate. Doc looked from me to Dad and back again, a question in his eyes, but then he deftly turned the subject. In silence, I finished what I could of my meal.

  “May I be excused, Mrs. Miller?” I was desperate to be out of that house and all the malevolent tension around me. I had never been so assaulted by ill will as I was by Marlene’s sickly-sweet smile.

  “Well, of course, if you’d like, Billy Ray,” Mrs. Miller replied. “But there’s chocolate cake for dessert. Wouldn’t you like some?”

  “No, thank you, ma’am.”

  Marlene piped up. “I’ll save you a piece. You can come back over and get it later, or I’ll bring it you. It’s whatever you like.”

  I ignored her and tried not to think about Lizzie using those exact words with me earlier.

  “Hey, you want a game of checkers out on the front porch after while?” Poor Charlie, he could sense the uneasy undercurrents in the room, but had no idea how to help me out.

  “I don’t think so, thanks. I’ll probably turn in early.” I stood up. “Excuse me.”

  I walked up to the back of Doc’s office, fishing my key out of my pants pocket as I went, and pulled open the screen door. A heavy thud on the doorstep and a weight on my shoe made me look down. The biology book fell open at my feet. An envelope with my name on the front lay in between the pages.

  As I turned the key in the lock, I retrieved the book and then opened the letter before even bothering to sit down.

  Here’s your book, Billy Ray. I probably won’t be seeing you anymore, so I thought I should go ahead and return it. I wrote down the title. Maybe they can get a copy in the library. That way I can look at it even after you’re gone, right?

  I’m sorry for the way I acted in front of your father this afternoon. It’s the way I act in front of everybody around here, so I guess I just kind of slipped back into it without really thinking. But you’ve been nice to me, and you didn’t deserve to have me embarrass you like that where he could see. I hope you can forgive me.

  You don’t have to visit or talk to me anymore. The reverend seemed angry today when he saw us together, and I know he’s almost the only family you have, and you honor him. Like you should.

  I understand.

  Lizzie

  As darkness approached, crickets chirped longingly outside the open window, interrupted every so often by the mournful cry of an owl. I could hear voices and intermittent male laughter coming from Doc’s back porch. He and Dad were sitting out there talking, sometimes in earnest tones, sometimes in easy-going banter. Mrs. Miller’s voice came and went. Part of me wanted to be out in the fresh air, talking and laughing with them, but the price—enduring awkward looks from my father—was too dear. Tonight, my presence would only mar the camaraderie.

  I lay down upon the bed, Lizzie’s note on my chest, my hands behind my head, and stared up at the ceiling. And I waited.

  Finally, about ten o’clock, I heard Dad’s footsteps outside the door. He knocked, and I called out, “Come in.”

  “I hoped you would still be up.”

  I sat up and turned on the lamp beside the bed. Dad sat in the chair across the room, facing me.

  “You’re not sick, are you, Son?”

  “No.”

  “That’s good.” He stood and tried to pace back and forth, but the room was so confining he gave up and sat back down. “I think we need to discuss what I saw between you and Miss Quinlan today.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “I disagree.”

  Seconds ticked by while I waited for his next pronouncement. He rested his elbow on the desk and rubbed his forehead in a gesture of weariness.

  “I believe I have failed you, Billy Ray.”

  “I disagree. Sir.”

  His head shot up in surprise, but then he looked beyond me, considering his thoughts. I could see him surveying the vast universe of his vocabulary and choosing words that would coalesce into persuasive influence. I’d seen him do this countless times before, when he was trying to win a soul for the Lord.

  “I am a servant of God who lives in the world, and yet I try to stay apart from it. I understand…” He stopped, then started over.

  “I know that you are grown. I don’t know how you spent your free time at school or who you spent it with, but we have been together all during the summers. I thought I knew you pretty well.”

  He rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands together and stared at them. “Today, I was made painfully aware that I have not…instructed you properly where young women are concerned.”

  Good Lord, did we have to do this now? It was a bit late for the birds and bees talk. After all, I was twenty-one years old. “I’ve had courses in biology and anatomy,” I said to let him off the hook. “And I have, like you, ‘lived in the world.’ I know what I’m about.”

  Dad virtually ignored me, so intent was he on getting his point across. “I understand how powerful the call of the flesh can be. Miss Quinlan is pretty, and physical pleasure is hard to resist.”

  “I haven’t shamed you or disrespected her with my behavior.”

  “I’m glad to know that.”

  “And I haven’t asked her to marry me or anything.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed in relief.

  “Someday, though, I might.”

  They snapped open again. “And it’s that kind of impulsive talk that has me so worried. Lizzie Quinlan is not the right woman for you. How could you even consider tying yourself to that kind of girl for—for the rest of your life?”

  “What kind of girl is she, Dad? Do you honestly know? Because I’m not even sure I know, and I’ve spent a lot of time with her over the last month.”

  “To be frank, I don’t think spending so much time with her is a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “I hear the people talk around town. They say her behavior is i
mmoral.”

  “Since when do you believe small town gossip?”

  “That’s not fair, Billy Ray. This situation is completely different.”

  “How? How many times over the years have you told me not to cast stones? I heard you say it right next door at the Miller’s dinner table! How is this any different?”

  The fire and brimstone evangelist emerged and rose to his feet. Flames of righteousness blazed in his eyes, but fear lurked underneath the anger in his voice, and that kept me from quaking in my shoes.

  “It’s different because you’re my son!” he roared and struck his hand on the desk for emphasis. “And my son does not run around fornicating with the town Magdalene!”

  “How can you, of all people, say such a thing?” Rage boiled in my gut—undeniable anger toward this man who had been the center of my life for so long, I couldn’t remember him any other way. “Have you no respect for her as a person? As a child of God? Have you no faith in my character?”

  He banged his fist on the table, but more gently this time. “Billy Ray—”

  “Dad, listen. You don’t understand what’s going on here. I’m not sure I understand it all myself. But I know what I see. There is real kindness in Lizzie, and believe me, there’s more to her than what the spiteful Orchard Hill gossips say.”

  “You’re making excuses for her. Why would you do that if she hadn’t dragged you down into sin yourself?”

  I walked to the door, pulling it open, and gesturing him out with my hand. “I have never lied to you, sir, and I certainly didn’t start today. But if you won’t hear the truth, then I have to end this conversation and say good night.”

  His expression was walled off and closed tight as he stared at me and whispered, “Sometimes, you’re so like your mother. It’s uncanny. After all this time without her, I never thought…”

  His words shocked me and stilled my anger for a second. “Dad…?”

  The strong, upright shoulders visibly stooped, and for the first time, I saw early hints of age in the lines around his eyes and his mouth. “Your mama always saw the best in people. It was one of the things I loved most about her—one of the things she taught me.”