The Pastor's Wife Wears Biker Boots by Karla Akins Read Free Book Online Page A

to her own bike. “Of course, you’ve already met Linus.”She gestured toward her motorcycle like a model on a runway, gesturing to a crowd.
    “Hi, Linus,” the entire class chorused.
    I felt rather foolish and wondered if Lily and Opal did, too.
    “OK, Lily, you go next.”
    “Ladies.” She leaned up against her motorcycle seat. “I would like you to meet Plum Crazy.”
    “Hiya, Plum.” We all waved and laughed. It fit her purple Magnum to a T.
    “Opal?”
    Opal ran up to her bike and stood behind it with a huge grin.
    “It gives me great pleasure, dear friends, to introduce you to—Firefly.”
    “Opal. That’s a perfect name for a little red motorcycle.” I clapped and cheered. It was odd, but somehow, those bikes did take on a personality of their own afterwe named them.
    “And now, Kirstie, would you please introduce us to yours?”Reba pointed to my bike, and I walked over to it.
    “Ladies.” I turned to face them and smiled at their expectant faces. I couldn’t believe I stood here among such sweet friends, being silly in the woods, participating in a motorcycle-naming ritual. A year ago, I’d never thought it possible. I turned and admired my beautiful bike, drinking in the idea that she was mine. Really mine.
    “Well? Are you gonna tell us her name or not?” Reba wasn’t a patient woman.
    “Hurry up.” Opal slapped at her arm. “I’m getting ate up out here.”
    “Shhh. Let her speak.” Lily smiled at me and gestured for me to go on.
    I got on the back of my bike and hugged the gas tank and felt the smooth cool metal on my cheek. I sat up and ran my fingers along the handlebars.
    “So? Are you gonna tell us or not?” Reba popped her gum and parked her hand on her hip.
    I smiled.
    “It will come as no surprise what I’ve named her. It’s exactly what she is to me.”
    “So she’s a girl?” Opal laughed.
    “Yes.” I nodded. “She’s a girl.”
    “And her name?” Lily asked.
    “Her name?” I fluttered my eyelashes like a coy school girl. “Her name is Heaven.”
     
     
     
     
     

8
     
    “Aaron, hurry up. We’re going to be late.” I wrestled with the cowlick on the top of Timmy’s headwith hair gel gooped between my fingers.
    “Late, Aaron.” Timmygiggled.
    Patrick walked in, his face scrunched up with worry. “Mom, tell Dad to come on. I can’t be late for practice.”
    “Go on out to the van. He’ll be down in a minute. Timmy, go get in your seatbelt.” I patted him on the back and guided him toward the stairs.
    “Seatbelt. Seatbelt, Patrick!” Timmy holleredas we walked down the stairs.
    “I know, Timmy. I know. Be quiet.” Patrickhated it when Timmy bossed him around.
    “How do I look, Mom?” Danny met me in the living room.
    I sucked in my breath.
    My handsome little man. So independent, dependable, and talented. I was more than blessedwith this boy.
    “Honey, you look very handsome. Will you promise not to let any of the girls kiss you tonight?”
    “Mom!” He turned as red asthe hair on his head. He picked up his violin case, and we all headed out to the car as Aaron descended the stairs buttoning his sleeves.
    “I completely forgot about this recital.” He tripped on the bottom step and turned around to look at it.
    “I added Danny’s recital on your phone calendar,” I said. “But you have to actually look at the thing for it to remind you.”
    I smiled at my absent-minded-professor husband. He lived in his head. I had forgiven him a long time ago for his forgetfulness, but it was a long time before I understood and appreciated that part of his personality.
    Finally, we all piled in the car.
    Timmy, excited as usual to be going somewhere, hummed and flicked his fingers in front of his eyes.
    “Timmy, be quiet.” Patrick pushed at Timmy. “You’re annoying.”
    “Patrick, cut it out.” I raised my voice just a little. “You’re beginning to annoy me .”
    “What about him? Make him stop making those noises. He only does it to