Maw-maw didn't end up making squash casserole like I thought she had. The menu was stuffed chicken and fried eggplant, and she was patiently waiting over the frying pan, watching one batch of eggplant when we came into the kitchen.
My grandpa had passed away when I was younger, and my grandma never remarried. She had always been really independent. On the days when we ate lunch at her house, she would leave church a little early so she could get home and begin heating everything up, she was in the middle of doing just that.
Maw-maw took to Michael right away. She had no idea he had just brought me over there on a motorcycle—let alone one that he built. She didn't ask him what it was he did for a living, and neither of us brought it up. We laughed and talked to her, and she fed Michael samples, which he gladly accepted. He went on and on about how much he liked the eggplant.
We were there for about ten minutes before Alice showed up with my brother and two other young people from church. There was also another older couple that my parents had invited, and this brought the grand total of guests at lunch to nine. Maw-maw fried five batches of eggplant, and there wasn't a single, solitary morsel of it left by the time we all finished eating.
Michael was a gentleman. He didn't know all of the ways and customs of people in the south, but he was adaptable, and he had no problem getting along with everyone and pretending he didn’t notice my dad's appraising stares. My grandma had a batch of bread pudding with caramel sauce, and we made a big deal about Michael trying it since it was his first experience with bread pudding of any sort.
He ate it and reacted the way any grandmother would love, with a look of genuine amazement at how good it tasted. My grandma was as charmed as I was.
My dad was cordial to Michael.
That was the most accurate way I could describe his behavior. He was cordial. He wasn't overly friendly, but he also wasn't cold—maybe somewhere in the mid-to-cold section. I honestly didn’t even pay attention to my dad. I just did my thing and let him act how he wanted to act.
Michael answered a few questions about motorcycles, but they came later, after we had already eaten lunch and talked about lots of other things. It was my little brother who finally asked Michael about his motorcycles, and Michael ended up answering several questions about it from Jacob and others. My dad didn't say anything. He just sat there and listened.
"Aww, awwww, goodness Maw-mawww, what do you feed him? Awwww." Jacob held his hand over his face, looking down at Duke like he should be ashamed of himself. He fanned the air in front of him. "You need to go outside, boy."
"Don't fan it over here," my mom said, causing us all to laugh.
Maw-maw clapped her hands. "Duke, go outside and do your business!" The dog was extremely lazy, but he knew by my grandmother's tone that she was serious. He moaned and groaned as he got up and headed for the door.
"Do I need to let him out?" Dad asked.
My grandma shook her head. "He'll push the door."
I, for one, was happy about the distraction that came by way of the dog's bellyache. Michael didn't seem to mind all the questions, but I was relieved for the change of subject.
"We're gonna take off," I said.
I glanced around at everyone. My statement had come out of nowhere, and I found them all looking at me with confused expressions.
"Who?" my dad asked.
"Michael said he'd give me a ride home," I said. "I’m gonna stop by and see his shop on my way."
This whole plan was news to Michael, but he didn't say anything to contradict me.
"I'm glad y'all came over, sweetheart," Maw-maw said. "And it was very nice meeting you, Michael. You're a nice young man."
"It was my pleasure Mrs. Lewis, and lunch was…" he hesitated as if searching for the right words. "Amazing. Memorable. It was so good, I'll remember it and probably wish I was eating it again."
"There's plenty of chicken left, sweetie. You should make a plate lunch to take home with you."
"Thank you," he said. "I wish I could, but I doubt I can carry it on my motorcycle."
"A motorcycle?" she asked.
"That's what we've been talking about, Mom," Dad said. "He sells motorcycles."
She looked back and forth from me to Michael. "You're not leaving on a motorcycle right now, are you?" she asked with a serious expression.
"Yes, Mom, it's parked in your driveway. They rode it over here."
"Well, I'll be!" she said. "It must be a two-seater."
"It is," Michael said.
"Is it the kind in a little bucket off to the side?"
Michael smiled. "A sidecar? No, ma'am, she just sits on the seat with me."
"I'll be!" Maw-maw said again.
I leaned over to hug my grandmother and she reached out for me and then leaned over to touch Michael after we embraced. He gave her a quick, sideways hug.
"Thanks again for lunch," he said.
"Yeah, thanks Maw-maw. That was so good."
She patted Michael's arm. "You're welcome to come over next Sunday, too. I was thinking about making fried chicken."
"That's very nice of you," Michael said. "I really appreciate it."
I hugged my friends and family and said goodbye to them all, promising Alice that I would call her later that evening. Everyone was still sitting around my grandma's living room and dining room when we walked out.
"I'm sorry I included you in plans we hadn't discussed." I said as we headed toward his motorcycle.
He seemed like he was going to say something and then changed his mind. We walked a few more paces in silence before approaching his motorcycle, and right before he got on, he reached out and took my hand. "Ivy?"
"Yeah?" I asked, feeling like I couldn’t breathe.
"I want to be included in your plans."
I smiled. "Good. I have one."
"One what? A plan?"
"Yep," I said. "Do you have enough gas to get us like five or ten miles down the road and back?"
"Yes."
"Could we go by my house first so I can change into some pants?"
***
Michael waited in my parent's living room while I changed. I put on some floral fitted pants and a short-sleeve white cotton blouse. I checked myself in the mirror before going out to meet him again. I stopped in the hallway and dug in the closet where I found a lightweight patchwork quilt. I was holding it under my arm when I went into the living room.
Michael stood, looking at me and shaking his head. I had tied a scarf around my neck just in case I needed it later for my hair. I realized it was the first time I had worn pants in front of Michael, and he looked me over, shaking his head with an irresistible grin that said he approved of my attire.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I wish I would have brought a helmet with me."
"A helmet?"
"Yes. If I had one with me I make you put it on."
"You don't wear a helmet," I said.
"Yeah, but I'm not worried about something happening to me," he said.
He was so sweet and handsome and I stared at him, feeling swept away.
"What's that?" he asked, pointing at the object I was holding.
"A blanket," I said. "I know of a place we can go if you want."
Michael took a deep breath and took a step toward me. I expected him to kiss me passionately, but instead he sighed regretfully. "Ivy, I already feel like we're pushing it with your dad. Are you sure he wants us, uh, taking one of his blankets?"
"I'm not trying to be inappropriate with you," I assured him.
"I didn't say you were, I just know he's already cautious of me as it is. I just don't know how he'd feel about you carrying off a blanket, you know?"
"He won't feel anything because he won't even know. I'm only taking it out there with us because I thought we might want to sit down and talk for a little while. I didn't want to get chiggers, that's all."
"I don't guess I want to get chiggers, either," Michael said. "That sounds bad."
"They are bad. Did you ever have them?"
He shook his head. "How do you get them?"
"By sitting in the grass without a quilt."
"That sounds terrible. We should definitely take the quilt," he said.
I wrinkled my nose at him because I knew he was teasing me. I started to turn and walk away, but he caught me by the arm. His grip was extremely gentle, but it was his bare hand on my bare arm, flesh to flesh, and I felt that electricity over again.
"Ivy," he said.
"What?"
He could tell I was a little embarrassed, I knew it by the way he smiled patiently at me.
"Don't think for a second that me not wanting to take the blanket is me rejecting you in any way."
"I know," I said.
I was taken off guard by him saying the R word, and I found myself dissecting his statement to make sure I shouldn't feel just that. I glanced away, and Michael used his fingertip to tilt up my chin. I made eye contact with him again, smiling shyly.
"Look at me, Ivy."
I did, and he gave me a sweet, concerned expression. "Why are you clamming up like this?"
"Because, it's just silly that my dad or his quilt even has to be a factor. I'm used to not having to answer to my dad when I'm at school, and it makes me feel embarrassed to have to sneak around." I let out a little sigh. "I'm sorry he's cautious of you. I hate that."
"It's not a big deal," he said. "I just think it's smart if we try not to give him anything to be mad about—at least not right away."
He still had his hand on my arm, and he moved his fingers, causing my heart to race. I looked right into his pale blue eyes, and my chest rose and fell as I took a deep breath.
"Does this mean you're never going to kiss me again?" I asked with a little huff.
Michael's face broke into a slow smile. "No, it does not mean that, Ivy. It does not mean that at all."