Gina and Paul (Last Chance Program Book 2)

by Malone, Misty

  “Okay, I get what you’re saying. Anything else?”

  “Some people smell when you walk past them, and you just have to look at them to see the dirt on them and their clothes. Those are the people I wouldn’t want to use a cart after. If I were to use a cart, it would be clean when I was done with it.” She paused, and continued. “Also, I’m certainly not a criminal. Those things come to mind right off, so yes, I think I am better than most people.”

  Paul shook his head while he was thinking about her answer. “So, let me see if I have this straight. You feel that most people are either not clean, or receive some kind of government assistance, or are a criminal?”

  She cocked her head to one side and looked up at him. “I guess maybe not most people, but a good number of them are.” She thought a moment, and added another thought. “There’s also the way people act. Some of them are just not intelligent. I mean, you say I’m rude, but how rude was it for that lady ahead of us to waste everyone’s time? Why couldn’t she have just paid for it and then gone to talk to the manager? I certainly wouldn’t have caused such an inconvenience.”

  “Okay, another question.”

  “Are the answers I’m giving you right? You haven’t argued with me.”

  “There are no right or wrong answers here. I’m just trying to understand you a little better, and hopefully help you understand some of your thoughts and feelings, as well. The next question I want to ask you is how does money fit into any of these answers you’ve given me here?”

  “Money? Money doesn’t have anything to do with any of it.”

  “Are you sure about that?” She looked up at him with a frown. “Remember, I’m just asking questions, kind of talking out loud here. I’m not saying it’s right or wrong. It seems to me, though, that money is playing a much bigger role here than you’re willing to admit.”

  “You’re going to have to explain that, and I’m not sure I like what you’re saying.”

  “That’s why I’m saying it, Gina. We can discuss it, and if I’m right and it’s a bigger factor here than you were aware, if you don’t like what I’m saying, you can change it. That’s what this program is all about.”

  Chapter Six

  She harrumphed, and glared at him a couple seconds. “So you’re suggesting I think I’m better than most people because of money?”

  “Well, I don’t know, but let’s explore it. If you want to look at your inner feelings, which let me remind you aren’t right or wrong, they’re just your feelings, you have to be honest with yourself. If you don’t like the feelings you have, you can change them, but first you have to be totally honest with yourself to get to your true feelings. So for these next questions, don’t stop and think before you answer them; just give me the first answer that comes to your mind.”

  “Okay.”

  “You say some people are a drain on society because they’re receiving some kind of governmental assistance. Describe those people to me. What do they look like, what do they do?”

  “They wear old clothes that don’t always match, sometimes their clothes need to be washed, as do the people. They don’t get their hair cut or styled. They work at like Wal-Mart or a little factory, but they won’t work a full forty-hour week. And they drive an old beat up car.”

  “Okay. You said many are criminals. Describe them for me.”

  “They don’t do anything but hang out with friends most of the time. When they need money, they steal it, or break in and rob a house and sell the stuff.”

  “You said if they need money they steal it. How?”

  “Either rob a man at gunpoint and take his wallet, or steal money from people’s houses or something. Sometimes now they know how to get into people’s bank accounts and take money that way.”

  “Okay. How old are most of these people? Like for instance, most of the people on government assistance, how old are they?”

  “Well, a lot of them are young, like me, but they’re too lazy to support themselves. Maybe they have a couple kids, and they get food stamps and free childcare. But then someone has to pay for what they get free, and it’s all the rest of us that pays.”

  “Okay, now let’s talk about what you said. You’re better than most of these people because you take regular baths so you’re always clean, and you wear nice clothes, and you’re not a drain on society by getting government assistance. Right?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, do you go out there and earn a living to afford all those things?”

  “My parents do.”

  “But I’m asking about you. Do you earn what you have?”

  She frowned at him. “No, you know I don’t, but I don’t have to. My parents do it.”

  “And that’s the way it should be while you’re growing up,” Paul confirmed. Her smile had returned, but was short lived. “But how long do you think your parents should be required to provide you with all these things for free?”

  “Well, I suppose until I can earn them on my own.”

  “Which will be when?”

  “I can’t say exactly.”

  “But you have a plan in place, I take it, to work toward that goal?” He paused to let her think about that. “Or is that a goal you actually have?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Do you plan on some day providing all these things for yourself, or are you happy the way things are? Remember, don’t think; just answer.”

  She looked up at him with a sad look on her face. “I don’t want to answer that without thinking.”

  “Because you’re happy the way things are, aren’t you?” He didn’t make her answer out loud this time. “Gina, that’s what your grandfather saw, and has been concerned about. He’s right; when you earn something it means more to you. You have pride in yourself.”

  She was quiet for a time, but she was looking down, so he had no idea what she might be thinking. When she looked up, he could instantly tell she was angry. “So you’re telling me I’m no better than all these yahoos out here that are a drain on society, except in my case I’m just a drain on my parents?”

  “Calm down, Gina, I’m not saying anything. All I’m trying to do is to get you to think.”

  “About what? It sounds to me like you’re trying to tell me I’m no better than some of the bums out there on the street.”

  “I’m not saying that at all, but since you brought up the bums on the street, let’s talk about them for a minute or two.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think they’re out there on the street, in the situation they’re in?”

  “Because they’re too lazy to work.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Why else wouldn’t they be working and living in a house somewhere?”

  “What if they can’t find a job?”

  “McDonald’s or someone like that is always hiring.”

  “Actually, no, they’re not, but would you want them to? Would you want McDonald’s to hire someone living on the streets?”

  “Ewww, no. Well, actually, I guess it wouldn’t matter to me because I don’t eat there. I do see what you’re saying, though. I guess they’d have to get another job first and get a place to live and some decent clothes first.”

  Paul tried to talk to her another half hour, but he was shocked at how cold Gina seemed to be. She was convinced that people needing government assistance of any kind were simply too lazy to work. He was becoming frustrated. They weren’t getting anywhere, so maybe the best thing to do would be to just drop the subject for now. He decided to do something totally different.

  He looked at his watch and grimaced. “We can talk about this more in the next few days. Right now, let’s try our luck in the kitchen. If we start now, we might be able to have some dinner ready before ten o’clock.”

  She quickly agreed. “That’s probably a good idea. Our first few times may take a little more time than you would think.”

  He took his computer out to the kitc
hen and brought up the recipe they’d decided to try, and got to work. The recipe, which was for a chicken dish served over rice, was labeled as ideal for beginners and had step-by-step instructions. They started with step one, which was chopping onions and celery, and dicing garlic. They carefully proceeded through the recipe, working together and talking amicably, which was exactly what Paul had been hoping for. He wanted to bring the intensity level down considerably, and cooking together was doing that nicely.

  They cooked the chicken according to the directions, but neither thought it looked done, so they decided to cook it a little longer. After all, they reasoned, you don’t want to chance poultry not being completely cooked. They finished their cooking, put the food on their two plates and sat down to eat.

  Paul looked down at the food and was a little leery. It didn’t look great, but it didn’t look awful, either. He glanced over and saw her looking at it in a similar manner. “It’ll be great,” he said with a bit of a chuckle. “Go ahead and try it.”

  “I was waiting for you to try it first,” she admitted. They smiled and picked up their fork at the same time and took a tentative bite. “I’ve had better,” she said.

  “Me, too. But I’ve also had worse.”

  She nodded. “I have to agree with you there.”

  “I think we cooked the chicken a little too much. It’s pretty dry.”

  “Yes, it is. The rest of it’s not bad, though. I think we should try it again. I’ll bet we can improve, and it probably wouldn’t be too bad.”

  “I agree. I think if we don’t cook the chicken quite so long it will be better, and the flavor’s really not that bad, other than being dry.” He took another bite and grimaced. “But let’s wait a while before we make it again.”

  She laughed, but agreed. They ate what they wanted of the chicken, then were glad they’d bought a ready to eat pie and carton of ice cream. She cut good-sized pieces of the pie for each of them, and he topped them with ice cream.

  He kept the lighter conversation going during dessert, as well, and suggested they wash dishes together. She agreed, but it was clear to him she hadn’t washed dishes often, and asked her about it. She froze, and her eyes narrowed. She hung her head and admitted that she had very seldom done dishes. She also admitted that her mother had indicated she thought she should be helping with them, but she was always able to get her father on her side, saying she had something else she had to do.

  Listening to her gave Paul an idea. “Well, things are different here,” he said. “I’m not your mom and I’m not a cook or dishwasher. I don’t mind helping with either one of them, but the rule here, for both of us, is if you don’t help fix it or clean up afterwards, you don’t eat.”

  Her eyes grew large. “What? Seriously, no food?”

  “Seriously. This applies to me, too, so if you notice, I didn’t say the cooking had to be good. I just said if you don’t put forth some effort, you don’t get to enjoy the food. If you want to eat, you have to earn that right.”

  A look of understanding crossed her face, and she smiled a little. “Okay, I get it. I’m going to start earning my meals.”

  “Yep,” he said with no hesitation. “And I’m going to extend that. If we want to eat the food, we have to participate in cooking and cleaning up, but also getting groceries from the store and bringing them home and putting them away. Does that sound fair?”

  She paused for just a moment before agreeing. “It does.”

  “Good. While we’re on the subject of meals, what do you think we should try and fix for breakfast tomorrow?”

  She grinned. “I’ve heard people say scrambled eggs are so easy they’re hard to mess up, so maybe we should stick with them tomorrow, just in case lunch doesn’t turn out so good.”

  He chuckled, but agreed. “Sounds like a plan to me. Let’s see if there’s something on television we can watch, and use the rest of the time this evening getting to know each other a little better.”

  They spent the next two hours with a movie, but they didn’t watch much of it. Paul was very good at getting people to open up about themselves and talk, so when he was able to get her to start talking about her growing up and school years, they traded stories back and forth. By the end of the evening they’d both gotten to know each other better.

  He left around ten o’clock, after reminding her he’d be back at 9:00 the next morning. He was anxious to get back to his motel so he could make several notes. He’d learned a great deal about Gina today, and he wanted to jot down several important points while they were fresh in his mind.

  Once he got back to his motel and made his notes, he considered his suggestion of cooking meals together. Gina’s case was different than any he’d done yet. The ladies he usually worked with were either working or going to school, so part of their day was already scheduled. If they worked, he usually preferred they switch work to a part time basis if possible for the first few weeks at least, but having part of their day preplanned generally worked well. He didn’t normally like to spend the entire day talking, which they did much of today. Although it was necessary, since the lady had to understand what she’d been doing and why it needed to change, trying to do too much in one day could be disastrous.

  Trying to learn to cook and doing it together would give them a nice break. He hoped it worked out. If it turned out they were neither one natural cooks, though, it could become stressful, which wasn’t at all what he was aiming for. He gave that some thought, and came up with an idea. He called his boss.

  Paul greeted Jason Jenkins when he answered his phone. “Hi, boss. I told you I’d let you know how it was going by the end of the week. I have good news to report, and I’m also hoping your wife can help me some with this case.”

  “Cheyenne? Paul, you know I love Cheyenne and I think she’s a very intelligent lady, and although at times you’d swear otherwise, she’s not trained in this type of work. What kind of help are you looking for from her?”

  “Gina doesn’t cook, and she doesn’t work or go to school. I suggested we try to learn to cook, working together on meals. I think it will be good for lightening the mood, which is important, but I’m afraid if we destroy too many meals it will become a stressful time.”

  “That was good thinking, Paul, and I commend your idea. But you’re right, it could backfire on you. So what exactly were you hoping she could help you with; some cooking lessons?”

  “No, not yet anyway. I was hoping, though, she may have some suggestions for me for some easy, maybe no-fail type recipes. We have something we’re going to try for lunch and dinner tomorrow, but if Cheyenne could help me with some foolproof ideas for after that, especially if we fail miserably on one meal, I’d sure appreciate it.”

  Jason laughed, but agreed. “I’ll talk to her yet tonight. I’m sure she’ll help you out. Now, how is the program going?” They spent the next fifteen minutes talking about Paul’s plan. When Jason hung up, he was again glad he’d hired Paul. He’d felt good about him the first time he met him, and he’d turned out to be one of his best plan administrators. He was again glad Paul had been available for this case. He went to talk to Cheyenne before he forgot.

  * * *

  Jason was at the guesthouse at 9:00 Saturday morning. He knocked on the door and waited, but got no answer. He tried again, but still there was no answer. He took out his phone and called. Maybe she’d gone back to the main house last night. He thought she understood why he asked her to stay at the guesthouse for the first week or two at least. He really did believe it would help her stay focused on the program, but maybe she felt otherwise, and went back there for the night.

  He didn’t get an answer on her phone, either, and was starting to get concerned. He knocked louder, and tried calling again. Finally, she answered her phone, sort of. “What?”

  “Gina, are you okay?”

  “Fine, other than I’m trying to sleep. You’re calling and someone’s knocking on the damn door.”

  “That’s me a
t the door, and watch your language. Why aren’t you up yet?”

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s after nine o’clock.”

  “But it’s Saturday. WTF!”

  “Gina! Again, language. You aren’t starting off very good this morning. I told you I’d be here at 9:00.”

  “You were serious? But it’s Saturday.”

  “Get up and open the door so I can come in. Apparently you don’t recall how the program works, or that it’s a seven day a week program, so we’ll review it first this morning before we make breakfast.”

  “You aren’t going to give up until I open the door, are you?”

  “No, I’m not. And I suggest you get up and answer it sooner rather than later. You’re making it harder on yourself the longer I have to stand out here waiting.”

  “What do you mean, making it harder—wait. Oh, no. There is no way you’re going to do that again this morning. I’m so damn sore now that’s why I couldn’t get to sleep any sooner last night. No, no way. If you think you’re going to do that again this morning, you can just stand outside all day. There is no way I’m going to allow that this morning, before I even have a cup of coffee.”

  Paul was frustrated, but he knew he couldn’t give up now. They’d made progress yesterday. He glanced around and saw a man walking toward him, who Paul assumed must be John, Gina’s father. He’d rather not be on the phone with Gina while he talked to him, so he finished his call with Gina. “Gina, I won’t tell you again. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get up and open this door.”

  He hung up just as the man was approaching. He held out his hand in greeting. “Good morning. Are you John Jamison?”

  “I am,” the man answered, shaking Paul’s hand. “And you must be Paul Parker?”