Jack: Well you know we will be sitting on the edge of our seats no matter who they are playing.
Art: I don't need nail clippers during football season. I can't help but chew mine down to little nubs.
Jack: Ha-ha, that's funny. I wind up eating junk food. I try to keep it to popcorn, but when we are at the game I have to have Cracker Jacks and hot dogs. I wish the San Fran game was at home. That is going to be an exciting game.
Art: Totally, but that's why the Bills game is so important for the Bears. If they win that, which they should be winning all home games anyway, then they can march into that brand new stadium like they own the place. The San Francisco fans are going to be extra pumped up. That energy will be pulsing through the city long before the Bears land in Cali.
Jack: Speaking of landing did you order your tickets yet?
Ginger froze. Her dad hadn't mentioned any tickets? People need tickets for a lot of things. As far as she knew her dad had not purchased any game tickets. They had talked about trying to go to Chicago one day to go to a game together. Roger would have never allowed it.
She wondered if she should dare ask him? Would it give it away that she wasn't Art? What else could she say...no?
Jack: You did book your flight?
Art: Actually some things have come up and I have not had a chance to do much of anything all summer.
That wasn't altogether not the truth. Ginger found it odd that her father had some kind of a trip planned that he didn't mention to her. It wasn't like it was for work; he had retired before he moved east to be closer to her.
Jack: Art you're killing me over here. I was able to reserve the box for the game. Are you going to order your ticket? The prices are going to get more expensive the longer you wait. I know I should have reached out to you over the summer, but I was away for work a few times.
Art: Box seats sound badass. My health has taken a turn for the worse to be honest with you, it doesn't look like I will be able to make it.
Jack: So I guess you didn't tell your daughter either. I know you were hoping to bring her to Chicago with you.
Chicago, Ginger thought. Her dad was planning a trip to Soldier Field. But, who is this guy Jack?
Walking into that stadium with her dad was a dream they both shared for quite some time. The sting of the situation never being able to become a reality forced the tears to start leaking from the corners of her eyes.
She took a deep breath and tried blinking her eyes wide open to force them to stop. The saltiness burned her already tired eyes. She looked through her flooded eyes at her uneaten sandwich and cold cup of tea. She needed to get to sleep.
Art: You know Jack I didn't even have the opportunity to tell her. It is probably best I didn't. She would have been upset if I couldn't go.
Jack: Well if anything changes I will hold onto to your tickets. Let's catch up soon.
Art: She will get there one day. It is really late, I better get some sleep. Talk tomorrow...
Ginger should have left well enough alone. Why did she leave an open invitation for them to talk again tomorrow? She should tell him that he is going to turn his internet off or something so he doesn't expect to hear from her father again instead she set herself up to continue the charade.
It did feel really good to talk football for a few minutes. It was something that she had a lot of passion for, and her father was the only person she ever got to talk to about it. Other than a few random guys that might have been sitting at the bar with them watching a game.
Ginger shut the computer down and cleaned up her late night snack. She kind of lost her appetite, that and she was really too tired to eat. Tomorrow would be a new day.
Chapter Six
GINGER GOT INTO BED HOPING that she would be able to pass right out. Her body was in overdrive and her mind was rolling like watching a movie fuzzed out on fast-forward.
One second she was reciting drink recipes in her head and the next she was listing the Bears draft picks for the year. She wondered what would have happened if she just went to bed when she got home. She never should have made that sandwich.
How could she be so careless to eat over the keyboard, let alone not pay attention to the fact that she was clicking away at the letters that popped up on this guy Jack's computer screen?
What did this Jack guy look like? He was probably an old man like her father. Maybe they had served together in Vietnam. Maybe he used to be in the union with him.
She should have asked Jack. That wouldn't have worked. He knew that Art knew how they knew each other. Maybe she should have just spent more time with her father. She should have asked him more about what was going on in his life.
Her father always listened to her talk about her frustrations in her marriage and her lack of career. She always pictured herself a strong successful woman making enough money to not need anyone to take care of her. Yet she found herself reliant on a husband that may not have ever really loved her.
Her thoughts shifted to her need to start packing up her father's belongings and her need to donate them. She also wanted to paint the condo and start making it her own space. Part of her wanted to keep the memory of her father in the space, but she also knew it was time to let go, at least of the physical level. He would always be in her heart and her thoughts. No couch or framed picture of a fish could take any of that away from her.
Her thoughts overlapped so fast that there was no real clarity to anything. She feared that she was trying too hard to figure everything out at once. She tried to count sheep in an attempt to quiet and calm her mind. It was almost dawn when she finally fell asleep.
She couldn't have been sleeping more than three hours when she woke herself up screaming. She was almost forty years old, she had plenty of bad dreams, but this one, although it had her heart pounding against her chest when she woke up, had her almost laughing.
Her father would have gotten a kick out of it. She dreamt that she and her father finally made it to a Bears game. Of course they were playing the Green Bay Packers, their number one rival. One minute they were toasting plastic cups filled with beer and the next her father was down on the field with the ball. He looked so frail and sickly.
He held the ball in his hand when the Packers defense rushed him all at the same time burying him into the turf. She knew that they took him from her. This is what had her calling out, "NO!"
Ginger wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but the sun was shining and soon enough winter would be coming with its dark and dreary shortened days. She decided to get up and make the most of the time and use that wonderful energy the sun gave her to do something productive.
When she walked into the bathroom, her intention was to take a quick shower and then she saw the Bears mug and mason jar of salt scrub she'd placed on the corner of her tub the night before. The corners of her lips curled up at the idea of using the gift from Jasinda.
Ginger got into the shower and turned the water on so that it would start to warm up without turning the showerhead on. She poured the salt rub into the mug as Jasinda instructed her. It helped to mix the oil and salt together.
She dug in a few fingers and scooped out about a tablespoon into her hands and gently scrubbed her arms and chest in a circular motion. The scrub smelled so good she closed her eyes and pictured herself on a tropical beach at sunset.
Scrubbing away the old, dead layer of skin became symbolic to her. With each sweep of her hands she released her old life. She washed away the toxic poison that Roger injected into her life for so long. She had lived what at one point felt like a lifetime. She was now ready to live a new lifetime, one that belonged to her.
Ginger didn't want to live that life alone, but she would not let someone take away her voice again. It was her life and she wanted to share it with someone who could respect her, all of her. She had a lot to give and would only make herself available to people who were open to the same kind of exchange.
The night before was a real eye-opener f
or her. Having someone to talk with made her feel almost whole again. She had held too much in for too long. Taking on the task of opening and running Jasinda's kitchen might not be where she would wind up, but she knew that was the direction she needed to be heading. It could be a great opportunity or a stepping-stone to the bigger picture.
After that long shower she decided she didn't feel like messing with her hair so she tied it back in a tight, wet braid. When she put it back wet, her hair almost looked brown, almost. She wanted to get out of the house in a hurry so she just did her eyebrows and a good coating of mascara to open her still swollen eyes. She was all done up the night before and wanted to give her delicate skin some time to breathe.
It seemed like a waste of time to fix herself something to eat at home. She grabbed her laptop out of the closet and decided to grab a cup of coffee and an egg white breakfast sandwich at the diner down the street.
She could sit anywhere that had Wi-Fi with her laptop to do her research, but she decided to go to the library. That way if she wanted to look up anything that she couldn't find on the web she would be in a perfect spot. Sometimes you just needed to flip through the pages of a book for inspiration to hit.
When Ginger arrived at the library she finished up her sandwich in the car and tossed her garbage in the can on her way into the building. She went two towns over for this library, but the drive was worth it. This library was three stories tall and was the hub for all the towns in the county. If they didn't have something she needed, she could easily order it from another branch to be delivered to that library.
A little flutter tickled at her belly as she walked up a flight of stairs to where the cooking and food science books were. She felt like she had waited a lifetime for a chance to follow her heart and her dreams. How could she have not seen it before?
She went to school with the dream of working with an NFL team. Of course her ultimate dream job would have been to work as the nutrition specialist for the Chicago Bears. All those years ago and she still has not set foot in Illinois.
Ginger felt good when she made healthy food choices. She always wished that there was a healthy place to eat that was casual and laid back. She wanted to find a way to provide an eatery where the average person would want to go. A lot of people found healthy eateries intimidating or for hipster vegetarians. She wanted to make healthy food mainstream.
She thought, why just because you want to have a beer do you need to only eat fried, greasy foods? That was always good, but for people who frequented the same establishments like a bar for Sunday football should have more of a variety.
Wine drinkers were a different batch of people. They were focused on the total experience and how certain wines paired well with different foods. Beer was the same way. And with the new boom of craft beers and home brewers, beer drinkers were developing a new palate. They were starting to have higher expectations.
Jasinda had a gift for making mead. Ginger truly believed that they could build a new concept around her custom beverages. If Ginger could put together the basics for the business end as a start, they could brainstorm a menu together based around the drinks that Jasinda made.
Healthy food can taste really good. She loved to cook and was pretty good at making healthy versions of classically fattening foods. When she first started to change her diet in college, her dad tried to oppose the changes. He was old-fashioned and set in his ways.
All she asked was that he give her a chance. She asked that he would try some of her food before he passed judgment. He always supported her and believed in her doing great things with her life. He couldn't go against everything he tried to instill in her over a bowl of macaroni.
He was pleasantly surprised at some of her creations. He ate them willingly, but never got into the lifestyle enough to make daily changes to improve his health.
He had high blood pressure and diabetes for years. She tried her best to teach him how to eat to live. Even after finding out that his coronary artery had a 90% blockage, he still didn't change his ways. They placed a stent to help keep the blood flowing to his heart but a bypass was what he really needed.
He decided not to take the chance at having open heart surgery. There was a part of Ginger that wanted him to fight for his life with everything he could. Art told her that he was afraid that he wouldn't survive the surgery and would rather do the best he could and live with the limitation and enjoy what time he had left.
She knew she couldn't win an argument with her father, so she didn't bother spending what time they had left together fighting. Ginger tried not to regret things in life, but she couldn't help regretting not spending more time with her father at the end.
Of course she didn't really know just how sick he was until it was too late. Ginger was mad that she didn't make a trip to Chicago a reality for them. Even if it had been off season, they should have gone there together.
Chapter Seven
JUST AS GINGER WAS PACKING up her things at the library, her phone rang. She looked down at the screen and saw that it was the bar calling her. She wasn't sure if she would hear from Jasinda or not. She said she would call to check in, but she never knew when people were just saying things to be polite.
Ginger answered the phone, "Hello?"
"Hey there, do have a few minutes?" Jasinda asked.
"Yes, but I am at the library, I am just about to check out. Can I call you back in a few minutes when I get outside?" She had a few books she wanted to take out. She didn't think it was appropriate to talk on the phone in the library. She related it to talking on the phone at the movie theater.
"Of course, I will talk to you then." Jasinda's voice trailed off before the line went dead.
As soon as Ginger got in the car she opened her windows to get some air in the car before her AC started to work. It was still very hot out. She parked in the sun making it feel like a solar oven.
She was beyond excited to talk to Jasinda. But she wasn't sure how or when would be the best way to go about talking to her about her overnight revelation. Maybe they could get together over the weekend.
She called over to the bar and Steve answered. "Hey, Steve, it's Ginger. Can I please speak with your lovely wife?"
"Hi Ginger, how ya doing today? Are your feet and legs hurting from last night?" Steve asked.
"Surprisingly no, last night they were. It has been a long time since I was on my feet like that. I didn't get much sleep, but I actually feel really good. It was fun, I forgot how much I loved the business."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that. Hold on let me get Jazz for you." The phone was quiet for a minute.
"Hey, sweetie. How are you feeling today?" Jasinda's voice was soft even over the phone.
"You guys are funny, your husband just asked me the same question. Although, I think that he meant more on a physical level and not emotional."
Ginger heard Jasinda chuckle. "That is true, but Steve is a pretty sensitive guy. He may look more like a bad ass biker, but he is a mush inside."
"He's great, and surprisingly so am I. Thank you again for everything last night. What's up?" Ginger asked
"Besides wanting to make sure you are ok, I wanted to talk to you about the bar. Are you in the area? Maybe you could stop by for a few so we could talk?" Jasinda wasn't giving her much to go on. It was a tease.
"I'm not far. I just left the library. I can pick up something for lunch on the way over. Can I get you guys anything?" Ginger offered.
"No, why don't you just come here and we can order a pie. What do you take on yours?"
"I am easy, I like pretty much anything you can put on a pizza. I guess I will see you in like fifteen minutes then." Ginger hung up and tossed her phone into her purse.
She lowered it down to the floor on the passenger side. She had one too many short stops that tossed the contents of her bag all over the floor. She wasn't going to make that mistake ever again. She reached around and put her bag of books on the floor behind her seat as well.
> It was hot out and she had the air conditioner pumping, but Ginger decided to keep the windows open anyway. She wanted to feel the warm wind blowing across her face as she drove. She cranked up the tunes and decided to just be in the moment and not think about anything.
When Ginger pulled up to the bar, she wanted to bring her stack of books in and tell Jasinda that she was considering the possibilities of what could be done with their kitchen. She also didn't want to seem presumptuous or over eager to decide on something without time to consider all the details.
She fixed her wind blown hair and tried to smooth the flyways back toward her braid. She grabbed her bag and shut the engine down after rolling her windows back up.
There were a few cars in the parking lot, but it was lunch time so there should have been more of a crowd. She walked into the bar, and it was surreal to be back there already.
There were two guys sitting a few stools away from each other at the bar. She could tell that they were not there together, but they were having a heated argument about something that neither one of them probably had a clue about.
"Hey, girl!" Jasinda waved at her. The humidity had done quite a number on her hair. Her curls were working on overdrive. Ginger thought it was a good thing that Jasinda didn't have short hair or she might have looked like a poodle.
Jack and Ginger (Sacred Heart Coven Book 3) Page 5
