Back to Yesterday by Pamela Sparkman Read Free Book Online Page B

place.” And because I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer I said to her retreating back, “It’s easier if you don’t fight it.”
    She didn’t hear me because she had already closed the door.

 

     
    I didn’t go home the night I kissed Sophie. Well, not right away. I paced outside her house for about fifteen minutes, contemplating this relationship we had, until I heard music playing.
    I looked all around until I pinpointed where it was coming from. An upstairs window was open. I saw the curtains blowing in the breeze and then I heard Sophie’s voice trickle down to me, her voice crisp and lovely.
     
    Look who’s here
    Look who’s here
    Here’s the boy I am mad about
    Oh my dear
    When he’s near
    I just feel like passing out
    So big and strong
    So full of youth
    Oh mama, Oh papa
    tell me the truth
    Ain’t he sweet
     
    I had the biggest smile any man could ever smile, planted right on my face as she sang Ain’t He Sweet by Annette Hanshaw. I began tapping my foot to the rhythm of the music while she continued to unknowingly serenade me.
     
    See him coming down the street
    Now I ask very confidentially
    Ain’t he sweet?
    Huh, ain’t he nice
    Look him over once or twice
    Now I ask you very confidentially
    Ain’t he nice?
    Just cast an eye in his direction
    Oh me, oh my
    Ain’t that perfection
     
    At some point her father had stepped out onto the porch and heard Sophie singing enthusiastically. I lifted my finger to my lips, not wanting him to interrupt. He shook his head, grinned, and sat down on one of the rockers while I continued to listen. When she finished I cleared my throat rather loudly. Sophie was at her window in a flash. “Charlie! What are you still doing here?”
    Even from this far away I could see how hot her cheeks were. In the most casual, nonchalant way I could answer, I shrugged. “Why, listening to the show, of course.”
    “Charlie Hudson!”
    “Yes?”
    “Why I oughta–”
    “Careful now. Your father is on the porch.” I knew her penchant for cursing and didn’t want to get her into trouble. However, I was thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.
    Her mouth snapped shut.
    With my hands in my pockets, I turned to go. “Good night, Mr. McCormick,” I called over my shoulder.
    “Night, Charlie,” he called back.
    “Good night, Sophie.” I started singing Ain’t He Sweet as I walked away.
    “I’m gonna get you back, Charlie!” Sophie yelled, halfway hanging out her window.
    In between singing the lyrics, I responded, “I’ll look forward to it.”
    That song was stuck in my head for the rest of the night. It was also probably the best night’s sleep I ever had.

 

     
    ~ The Sweeplings
     
    On & On
     
    I t was about three in the afternoon when I knocked on Sophie’s door. I knew she would be home because I had learned Sophie’s schedule pretty well. I reached to adjust my tie, a habit I had when I felt jittery, only there wasn’t a tie to adjust because I wasn’t wearing my uniform. Today was recreational. I smoothed one sweaty palm down the front of my buttoned-down shirt and picked a piece of lint off my khaki pants. This could go one of two ways. She could say no or she could agree. Sophie was predictably unpredictable so I had no way of knowing which answer I would get.
    When her mother answered the door, right away I could tell where Sophie got her beauty. Sophie had her mother’s dark hair and blue eyes, only her mother’s eyes weren’t quite as blue.
    “Good afternoon, ma’am,” I said, reaching for my invisible tie again. “Is Sophie home?”
    “Who’s asking?”
    “My name is Charles, err, Charlie.”
    Opening the door wider, she said, “Oh, so you’re Charlie? Come in. Sophie is in her room. I’ll go up and get her.”
    I brought my right arm from behind my back, the one holding the flowers, and held them out for her. “These are for you.”
    She paused before reaching out to take them. “For me?”
    “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry we