by Gail Sattler
“Georgette? What are you doing here?” Terri glanced at Bob, then back to her sister.
“I need to talk to you. Is Byron home?”
Terri glanced to the street, then back to Bob. “No, but he shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“What I have to say won’t take long. May we come in?”
“I suppose.”
The second he was inside, Bob wanted to turn back and leave. White carpeting throughout, was the crowning glory of a pristine decor that shouted adults only. The uncomfortably sterile atmosphere also reminded him that he hadn’t yet showered after a long day at the shop.
“To say I’m surprised to see you would be an understatement. Daddy told me that you ran away with some guy he didn’t know. I’m assuming that’s you.” She spared Bob a rude glance before continuing. “He’s been very upset. He told me that Tyler was going to ask you to marry him, but you left the banquet early, and when he got home all your things were gone. Where did you go? “Have you eloped? Daddy is very, very angry with you. You know how he’s always wanted you to have a big wedding like mine.”
Bob squirmed, not knowing if he should tell George’s sister what had really happened, or if he should keep silent.
George stared down at the floor and cleared her throat. “No, I didn’t elope, and that’s not exactly the way it went. But I’m not here to talk about me. I’m here to talk about you.”
Terri’s eyes widened. “Me? Whatever for?”
“Terri, are you happy?”
She backed up a step. “Of course I’m happy.”
“What about Byron?”
“Byron is fine.”
“But does he love you? Do you love him?”
Terri stiffened. “I think maybe you should leave.”
George shook her head. “I can’t leave until I say what I came to tell you. Terri, I came here on Friday night, and you weren’t home, but Byron was. I could be mistaken, but I think he had another woman here.”
Terri’s face paled. “You mean he had her here?”
George’s face paled as well. “You mean you already knew?”
“Did anyone see her besides you? I told him not to bring her here.”
Bob stood stunned, unable to believe what he was hearing.
“I don’t understand. Aren’t you going to do something about this?” Georgette asked her sister.
Terri blinked and stared George in the eye. “I’m going to tell him not to embarrass me, and to keep her away from our house.”
Bob knew George’s sister and brother-in-law weren’t Christians, but that was no reason to accept infidelity in a marriage. He could no longer keep silent. “Excuse me, but are you going to counseling about this? There are things you can do.”
She turned and stared at him. “This is none of your business. You two aren’t even married.”
Bob opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He wanted to say he was George’s boss, but his reason for being there had nothing to do George’s job. He was there because he wanted to help her and be there for her when she needed him. And that was wrong. He was supposed to be pulling back, not getting more entrenched in her personal life. George didn’t need that complication and neither did he.
The most effective thing to say was that he was a friend, but he didn’t want to go there. He couldn’t cross that line.
“I’m Bob,” he said, hoping he didn’t have to clarify it with more, and felt George’s fingers intertwining with his.
Terri stared down at their joined hands, and then turned back to George. “Don’t lecture me about right and wrong. I can’t believe you ran away with someone Daddy didn’t even know.” She sniffed the air, telling Bob that what he suspected was true. Even though he always wore coveralls over his clothes all day, he still smelled like a grease pit. “Daddy doesn’t approve of this at all.”
“Daddy and I don’t follow the same standards. He approves of things I would never do.”
“And running off isn’t wrong? What does your God say about what you did to Daddy?”
Since their arms were touching, he could feel more than hear George’s quick intake of breath.
Bob gave her hand a gentle squeeze. He lowered his voice, trying to sound gentle, even though he could feel his anger building inside. “She didn’t exactly run away. Your father kicked her out.”
Terri stared at George, and backed up another step. “If Daddy kicked you out, then I don’t want you here, either. And how dare you lecture me about what’s right and wrong and all that religious nonsense, particularly with him here.” She waved one hand in the air in Bob’s direction.
Bob continued speaking, even though Terri wasn’t looking at him. “We’re not living together, and we’re certainly not doing anything wrong. But we didn’t come here to talk about us. We came to talk about you. You don’t have to live like that. Fidelity in marriage is something everyone deserves. If you want, I can recommend a counselor.”
Terri stepped around them, and opened the door. “I’m fine the way things are. It’s time for you to leave. If you hurry and Byron doesn’t see you, I won’t tell Daddy you’ve been here.”
“But…” George stammered.
“Get out.”
Bob knew no progress would be made by arguing. It was time for Terri to mull over what they said. Maybe one day she would take him up on his offer of counseling, but that day wasn’t today.
They left quietly, and not a word was said the entire drive home.
When Bob reached to turn off the motor he turned to George, but remained seated in the car. “You did your best. All you can do now is wait, pray for her, and hope she calls you.”
“I know.”
They left the car, and he walked George to the door of the garage apartment.
She unlocked the door, but instead of pushing it open, she turned to him. “Not that I didn’t appreciate you going with me, because I know I would have fallen apart without you there, but I need to know why you came. Are you doing this because you feel sorry for me?”
Bob gazed into her wide eyes as he ran through a mental list of everything that had happened since he’d met George. Of course he felt bad that her family was rejecting her, but she’d acted honorably. He was proud of her for giving Terri that bad news. But he wasn’t helping her because he felt sorry for her.
She was efficient and capable, and she just needed a little help to get over the hump. George always accomplished what she set out to do, even if it was the hard way. She’d earned the respect of his customers, and likewise, by her hard work and dedication, she’d also earned his respect.
Yet Bob wasn’t at peace with what was happening between them. He couldn’t help it, but he sometimes felt twinges of jealousy because of the privileges she’d grown up with and taken for granted—things he would never know. Nothing had ever been out of her budget. She’d told him she had had all the latest and the greatest stuff, including a state-of-the-art computer and big-screen television, two things he really wanted but couldn’t afford. She could have gone to the best university, if she had chosen her courses from her father’s selected list. She’d always had the best clothes, any car in the world she wanted, and had lived in a home bigger than anything he could ever dream of with an indoor pool, sauna, and a private tennis court. She didn’t merely play tennis, she’d taken private lessons on her own court.
The men she dated also had always known the same privileged life. Only in the last few years had Bob not had to worry about budgeting in the price of dinner and a movie if he wanted to take a woman out—if he could even take the time for a date from his work schedule.
Now, finally, he was able to work only five days a week. Still, he had to work, and he had to work hard in order to survive.
Until now, George hadn’t had to work if she didn’t want to. She could have lived a life of leisure, and it wouldn’t have been wrong.
And now, all that was gone.
But as to her question, no, he didn’t feel sorry f
or her. Still, he knew it wasn’t smart to have gone with her, given what his presence with her implied to Terri especially when Georgette had grabbed his hand. She came from another world, a world where he was considered little more than the hired help. In hindsight, he supposed, her culture and refinement had been evident from the day he had hired her, in everything she said and did.
That a person like him could be the employer of a person like her was what he would have called one of life’s cruel jokes. If the same thing had happened to someone else, Bob might even have considered it funny.
But Bob wasn’t laughing.
Learning to make do with a modest income was something George had never had to do. For now, having to work and save money to get what she wanted, or even the necessities of daily life, was a novelty. Very soon, that would wear off and she would experience the frustration that came when sometimes, no matter how hard a person worked for something they wanted, the answer was still no.
He’d lived with a lot of no’s in his life, and he knew how difficult it could be. He couldn’t deal with the hurt and disappointment when he was unable to live up to her expectations. He certainly didn’t want her to live down to his. Falling in love with someone from the other side of the tracks only worked in fairy tales.
“I don’t feel sorry for you. You’re my employee and you need help, so I’m here. I’ll see you tomorrow, at work. Good night.”
Georgette cut the last piece of meat, then picked up the cutting board to scrape the pieces into the pan in with a knife.
She shuddered as she picked up a slimy hunk that had fallen onto the counter, and tossed it in with the rest of the raw meat. “This is so disgusting,” she muttered, then immediately went to the sink to wash her hands with the dish soap. The only thing that made her feel any better was the aroma of the meat frying as it started to cook.
“It’s just stewing beef, George. It’s the same as any other piece of beef.”
She dried her hands on the dishtowel, then turned to Bob. “I didn’t have to hack at the steak yesterday. I only had to make a few slices in it, pour that brown sauce on it, and let it sit.”
He sighed, and she immediately felt ashamed of herself for her outburst. “We were marinating a less tender cut of meat. Today we have meat that needs more work. If you simmer it for a couple of hours, it will just melt in your mouth. Otherwise, it will be tough. These are things you have to do when you’re living on a budget. You can’t eat New York Cut steaks every day any more.”
A wave of guilt washed through her. “I’m sorry. I know you’re sacrificing your time to show me how to do this, and I really appreciate it. It’s just that I never thought handling raw food would be like this. It’s…” She shuddered again. “Not exactly pleasant.”
Bob snickered and then his smile straightened with a visible effort, although Georgette could still see the corners of his mouth twitching. “Maybe tomorrow I should show you how to stuff and roast a chicken. There’s nothing to cut when you roast a chicken.”
He spoke with a straight face, but his lower lip wouldn’t stop quivering.
Georgette narrowed one eye. “Is that hard?”
“No.”
“Is there a catch?”
“Maybe.”
Both eyes narrowed. “What?”
“You don’t have to do anything from the outside, but when you buy a chicken, there’s a bag inside the cavity, you know, the hollow part where the guts were.”
Her stomach churned. “I’m not sure I understand. Why would there be a bag?”
“They save the heart and liver, and put them in a bag, and put the bag in the cavity. You have to take it out before you cook the chicken.”
If she didn’t feel sick enough thinking about it before, the queasy sensation quadrupled at the thought of reaching inside a disemboweled animal and touching the internal organs. “If they’re in a bag, then I don’t have to look. I don’t have to reach inside, do I? Can’t I just shake the chicken, and everything will drop right into the garbage can and I don’t have to watch?”
“You don’t want to waste it. Mama cooks the liver and chops it up then she adds bread, onions, celery and spices to make the best stuffing you’ve ever tasted in your life.”
Georgette held back her comments and turned her attention to the small counter and the table, both strewn with dishes and utensils. A pile of potatoes and vegetables lay on the counter, which she would cut up and throw in later, after the meat had cooked for a while. “I had no idea this was going to be so much work, and look at the mess already! Do you go through all this every day, when you’re cooking for yourself?”
Bob pressed both palms over his stomach, which was quite tight and flat, and grinned. “I love to eat, so unless I go home to Mama every day, that means I have to cook. But I will tell you a secret. When I make a chicken, I do exactly just what you were saying. I throw the innards out, and use the instant stuffing you buy in a box and make it in a pot. I don’t mind cooking, but usually I don’t make anything fancy and I like to have leftovers. Now, my brother, Tony, he loves to cook even more than he loves to eat. He can cook as good as Mama, even better on some things. But don’t ever tell her I said that.”
“Tony owns and operates a restaurant, doesn’t he?”
“Yes. God has really blessed our family. Tony loves to work with food as much as I love to work with motors. We’ve each managed to run a business doing what we love the most. God really opened the doors for both of us.”
Georgette wasn’t sure she agreed. Over time, she’d seen how hard Bob worked, and she knew the long hours he put in. He also hadn’t always run a good profit margin. God had certainly made it possible, but He hadn’t made it easy.
She didn’t understand why men like her father had it easy, when good men like Bob didn’t. Her grandfather had passed the chain of stores on to her father, so her father didn’t have to put his heart and soul into building the business; it was already very successful when he took over. That hadn’t stopped him from doing many things she considered questionable, if not downright unethical to increase his profits.
Bob, on the other hand, sometimes barely broke even in a transaction, simply because he honored his estimates, even if the situation wasn’t in his favor.
Lately she’d been finding that when she came home from work, she missed him, especially now that she had reminders of him everywhere. She heard the minute he came home, because he parked his car on the cement pad next to the garage. Today, she had stopped what she was doing and listened to him as he cut the engine and walked past the garage to get to his house.
Her heart pounded sharply until he showed up back at her door, ready to demonstrate the meal of the day.
It was foolishness. He had been more than obvious in his professional feelings, yet she couldn’t help but compare Bob favorably to every other man she’d ever known. Despite the privations of his youth, Bob was satisfied with his life. He was who he was, and that was a nice, honest man who put God and his family first in his life. It made him easy to love, and one day, when he decided to settle down and get married, he would make a good husband to a very fortunate woman.
A twinge of jealousy for a woman who didn’t exist yet flashed through Georgette’s mind.
Bob walked to the fridge, opened it, and began rummaging through the meager contents. “Now is the time for you to put in an onion. I know we bought some.”
She couldn’t help but watch him. Bob was physically fit because he worked hard all day, but she didn’t often see him without his baggy coveralls. Up until now, his coking lessons had kept her running around too much to notice, but at this moment she had nothing else to do but watch.
Georgette blinked, and forced herself to get her mind back on cooking, and away from how good Bob looked, especially from the back. “I think they’re on the second shelf, behind the yogurt.”
He reached in further, then backed up, an onion in his hand. “You’re supposed to put the onions in the bin marked
for vegetables.”
“But I didn’t want the carrots to smell like onions.”
“Don’t worry, that won’t happen. Although, you should have kept the onions in the bag.”
“Really? But they weren’t in a bag in the store, so I thought you weren’t supposed to keep them in the bag at home.”
He shook his head. “Nope. It’s best left in the bag. Now it’s time to cut it up and put it in with the meat as it cooks.”
She accepted the onion, and searched in the drawer for her one and only chef’s knife, which had been given to her by Bob’s mother. “Is it true what they say about onions, that they make you cry? I’ve never dealt with one raw.”
“Then you’re in for a bit of an education, George.”
She had received more education in the last three days than she’d had in the last three years, but Georgette held her tongue.
He stepped closer when she placed the onion on the cutting board. “There are a number of old wives’ tales about cutting an onion, but I think it’s just best to do it quickly. First cut the ends off, peel it and then cut it up into bite-sized pieces.”
Georgette did as instructed, and soon she had half the onion cut. At first, the strong smell was just annoying, but the more she cut, the worse it became, and soon, her eyes were burning and watering.
She looked up at Bob and smiled. “I see what everyone means.”
“You’d better stop talking and hurry up. I don’t want to end up like you!” As if to emphasize his point, he chuckled and stepped back.
“Coward,” she sniffled. “This isn’t so bad. It burns, but I can take it.” Except that her nose was getting increasingly stuffed-up, and her eyes were overflowing. She cut a little more, and the burn worsened, making her want to close her eyes, which she couldn’t do if she was going to finish cutting up the onion. The tears became more irritating as they dribbled down her cheeks.
She sniffled again, and raised one hand to swipe away the tears.
