moped mama

       “Has Bobby got here yet?”

      “No, haven’t seen him since he left with my mother,” said Kate.

      “I should have brought my own car instead of coming with you. It’s still at the cemetery. I’m ready to go home and put my feet up. I suppose I could walk.”

    “I’ll take you on the moped,” offered Bill.

    “I’m wearing a skirt,” Merideth pointed out.

    “You can sit sidesaddle. Just keep your feet out of the spokes. It isn’t far.”

     “True. Do you think?”

    “Sure,” said Bill. “Come on. I’ll take you now.”

     “Drive slowly!” She awkwardly positioned herself behind him as he braced the machine with his feet. She supposed she had to hold onto him. She put one arm around his waist. The other hand held her hat on.

     “Ready? Hang on. Keep your feet out. Here we go!”

     Oh, Lord. In her eighties and riding pillion on a motorcycle. She hoped no one would see her. But of course it would be all over the island by tomorrow.