The Last Bachelor. Judy Christenberry

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СКАЧАТЬ thanked him and closed the door, turning on the water again. Just this once, she would fill the tub. While the water rose, she found the bottle of oil. After reading the directions, she poured in the right amount.

      To her surprise, bubbles began forming. She stood there watching them, fascinated. She almost forgot to turn off the water before it came over the side of the tub. She removed her clothes and slid into the deliciously warm water.

      Heaven! She didn’t think she would ever get out.

      When the pizza came, Joe realized he hadn’t heard Ginger moving around. He knocked on the bedroom door to let her know their late dinner had arrived. No answer.

      Slowly he opened the bedroom door, expecting to see her sound asleep on the bed. But the room was empty. He moved to the bathroom and listened at the door. Complete silence. “Ginger?” he called softly.

      There was no response.

      He was afraid he’d scare her if he opened the door. After all, he’d told her she’d have her privacy. But worry gripped him. Slowly he turned the knob and pushed back the door.

      His princess was asleep in the bath, her auburn hair resting on the back of the tub, bubbles covering everything but her face. Despite how beautiful she looked, he realized the danger in the situation. She might have drowned.

      He started to wake her up, but he realized she’d be embarrassed. Instead, he backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. Then he banged on the door from the bedroom and shouted her name.

      There was a large splash. “W-what? What is it?”

      “I just wanted to let you know the pizza’s here. I don’t want it to get cold.”

      “I’ll be right—I don’t have a robe.”

      “I’ll put one on your bed. Just give me a minute.”

      He had a terry-cloth robe his mother had given him for Christmas that he hadn’t used. He put it on the bed, lingering a minute to imagine his robe sliding over Ginger’s skin.

      The bathroom door opened slightly, and he said, “It’s here. I’ll go back to the kitchen. You want something to drink? I have some caffeine-free cola so you can get to sleep tonight. Is that okay?”

      “Yes, please.”

      Reluctantly he left the bedroom and waited for his wife to join him in the kitchen. It would be their first meal at home together.

      Four

      Joe rolled over in his big bed and slowly opened his eyes. He normally rose early each morning, but he’d stayed up last night, lingering over the pizza with Ginger. Too late, actually. Ginger should have been in bed several hours earlier. But she’d seemed to enjoy the late-night snack and his company.

      They’d compared childhoods, hers in difficult circumstances in Estonia, with little to eat and almost no money. She was an only child of a single woman, shunned by many of the people in their town. Her mother had decided to marry an American. She was only thirty-four now, having had Ginger at fifteen.

      Joe hadn’t really thought about his family and his younger days when he and his brothers had played and laughed together. His heart-breaking romance with his fiancée seemed silly now. He had a loving, supportive family, a good education, a profession he enjoyed. He had nothing to complain about. He was glad he’d decided to help Ginger. She deserved to stay in America.

      He grinned and swung back the cover. They had a lot to do today. He wanted to get her things out of that one-room apartment she had called home. They had to go to the jewelry store to pick out some diamonds to go with her wedding band. He wanted to introduce Ginger to his friends. He needed to go to the closest INS office and give them a copy of their marriage certificate.

      He also wanted to buy Ginger a dress for the opening of the Men’s Grill. As the architect’s wife, she’d be in the spotlight.

      His life was suddenly much more exciting than it had been on Friday.

      Fifteen minutes later, he came out of his room, following the scent of bacon and coffee. He expected to see Ginger, of course, but he was hungry, too. He was glad she felt at home enough to cook this morning. Not that he expected her to cook every meal, but it was a good way to start.

      Ginger wasn’t in the kitchen. There was a note on the counter that made him frown.

      Joe,

      I have to be at work and it takes me a while to walk from here. Your breakfast is keeping warm in the oven. I made you a sandwich for lunch. It’s in the refrigerator. There’s also a casserole in the refrigerator for your dinner. I work until six-thirty and my class starts at seven. I will be home by ten-thirty. Leave the dishes for me. I’ll finish the laundry tonight. I dusted the furniture but did not vacuum because I didn’t want to wake you.

      Thank you.

       Ginger

      He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was only nine-fifteen and she’d already done all that work? That was more than most people did in a full day. Not to mention she intended to be on her feet until six-thirty and go to school after that.

      He grabbed his car keys. Then he went back and opened the oven to find a plate of scrambled eyes, bacon and toast there. He made a quick sandwich with it and hurried out to his car.

      He’d hoped he’d find Ginger on the street and could pick her up, but he didn’t see her anywhere. He parked in the lot of the Lone Star Country Club and hurried into the building.

      Harvey Small was entering his office when he caught sight of Joe.

      “Joe, I was going to call you. I have some questions about the opening. Come right in.”

      “No. I need to find Ginger.”

      “She’s working. Now, about the flowers we’re—”

      “Where is she?”

      “She’s in the Yellow Rose Café, setting up for lunch. Now, about the—”

      Joe ignored the man and hurried to the café. There were several waitresses setting the tables, but he didn’t see Ginger. Then she came from the kitchen, carrying a tray of salt, pepper and ketchup for the tables.

      “Ginger!” he exclaimed.

      She stopped and carefully set the tray on the nearest table. “Yes, Mr. Turner?”

      He couldn’t believe she was calling him Mr. Turner. “What did you say?”

      “I asked what you wanted.”

      “It was the ‘Mr. Turner’ bit that bothered me,” he growled.

      “Joe, I was talking to you,” Harvey called from the door, moving toward them.

      “I know, but I need to talk to my wife.” It was Ginger’s reaction that had him turning to stare at Harvey, who appeared stunned.

      Then he managed a small laugh. “Come on, Joe, if you want a cup СКАЧАТЬ