Back to Yesterday (9 page)

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 haven’t met before now.”

She accepted the flowers graciously and held them up to her nose. “They smell lovely, dear. Thank you. I’ll go put these in some water.” She motioned me inside. “I’ll be right back.”

I waited inside their entryway for only a couple of minutes. It was enough time to look around. Their home was inviting with red drapes on the windows, a fireplace, a floral armchair, wall-to-wall carpeting, and two sofas. Then I caught a whiff of freshly baked cookies.

Sophie’s father emerged from the kitchen, wiping cookie crumbs from his mouth. “Charlie, hello.”

“Hello, Mr. McCormick.”

“Good to see you. Sophie didn’t mention anything about going out today. Does she know you’re here?”

“Uh, not yet. I thought I would surprise her, sir.”

Sophie’s mother came back carrying a vase and placed it on the table by the door, rearranging the flowers. “Now I can see them from most any room in the house from here. Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome. It was my pleasure.”

She smiled. “I’ll get Sophie for you.”

Her parents shared a look and I pretended to not notice. I clasped my hands in front of me and rocked back on my heels, trying to appear relaxed.

“Don’t mind me,” her father said. “I’m just gonna stand back here and pretend to be invisible.”

“Charlie? What are you doing here?” When I heard Sophie’s voice I looked up. She was leaning over the banister railing at the top of the stairs.

As soon as I saw her all of my nervous anxiety vanished. I smiled. “I’m here to pick you up.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Pick me up?”

“Yes. We have a date.”

“You didn’t ask me out.”

“I most certainly did. You promised me a second date, remember?”

“But I’m not–”

“Were you washing your hair?”

“Well, no, I–”

“Good, I got here in time then.”

Crossing her arms, she said, “You can’t just show up. That’s not how it’s done.”

“Ah, well explain it to me then.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Sophie’s father lean against the kitchen doorway, eating another cookie, quietly listening to our odd exchange. I got the feeling he was mostly entertained by our interactions.

“First of all you set a
day
and a
time
.”

“You’re right. Let me start over. Sophie, will you go out with me
today
and we can meet in this exact spot at about…” I eyed a clock on the wall, “Three forty-five?”

She huffed in exasperation. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’m always serious.”

“I think you should go out with him, dear,” her mother chimed in from an upstairs room.

Feeling rather pleased I said, “I agree with your mother.”

“Of course you do. She’s on your side. You brought her flowers!”

“Well he didn’t bring
me
flowers,” her father cut in, wiping crumbs. “And I think you should go out with him too.”

Sophie threw her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at me.

Innocently I asked, “What?”

“You – you keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“First, it was Elizabeth. And now you got my parents liking you. How are you doing that?”

I held my hands up in surrender. “Honestly, Sophie, no one is conspiring against you here.” Her father chuckled. “And I sort of have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a
surprise
. I’m not gonna
tell
you.”

She flashed a smile and then remembering she wanted to be mad, she quickly bit it off.

I placed my hands inside my pockets. “Come on, go out with me.”

“Right now?”

“No, I’m giving you half an hour to get ready.”

Her father’s shoulders were shaking with laughter though he made no sound.

She huffed. “Fine. Whatever. But you’ll be waiting longer than half an hour. You might want to get comfortable.” Before she spun around I saw the corners of her mouth lift.

“Take your time.” I said. “I’ll wait on the porch.”

“Oh, and Charlie?”

“Yes?”

“Your fly is undone.”

Embarrassed, I quickly looked down. And then she laughed. “Made you look.”

Her father shook his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing, son.”

For the first time in my life, I didn’t have the first clue. And I was okay with that.