The Last Bachelor

by Judy Christenberry

  “Good Lord, that’s slavery!”

  “No. He pays me and I get tips, too. Please?”

  “Do they feed you lunch today?” He’d decided to gather his arguments and renegotiate their terms when they had privacy and more time.

  “Yes, of course. And…and I will try to get more done tomorrow.”

  He shook his head and then pulled her into his arms for a kiss that he had to have. “I’ll be here at six-thirty to drive you to school.”

  “Oh, no, that’s not necessary. I can—”

  He kissed her again. “If you’re going to work the rest of the day and go to school, you have no choice, Ginger. My wife will not be walking the streets at night. Understand?” His voice was fierce, and she slowly nodded, watching him with a careful eye. He kissed her gently this time, then he strode out of the room.

  Ginger slipped back into the café and picked up her tray. As soon as the other waitresses noticed her return, they hurried over to ask her questions.

  Erica Clawson, one of the waitresses Ginger didn’t like, asked, “Did you really catch Joe Turner? I’m impressed.”

  Ginger stared at her blankly.

  “Leave her alone, Erica,” Daisy Parker, her best friend and fellow waitress, warned. “Ginger is a wonderful person. Joe Turner is lucky if she married him.”

  “Well, someone certainly is,” Erica returned. “I’ve heard he’s loaded. If I didn’t want my guy, I would’ve gone after Joe.”

  Ginger bit her bottom lip. It was tempting to say Joe was hers, but she knew he really wasn’t.

  “We never see you with your guy,” another waitress said. “I’m beginning to wonder if he’s real.”

  Her words didn’t faze Erica. “Oh, he’s real, all right. Look at this.” She reached in the neckline of her blouse and pulled out a gold chain with a large diamond hanging from it. “See what he gave me?”

  After looking at Erica’s necklace, the women, almost in unison, looked at Ginger’s left hand.

  “That’s a lovely band,” Daisy said, smiling at Ginger.

  “Yeah,” Erica said, syrup dripping from her voice. “You can find a lot of them at the drug store.”

  Harvey opened the door, and the waitresses scattered to do their jobs. Daisy squeezed Ginger’s hand before she hurried to the kitchen.

  Harvey came over to Ginger. “Did he really marry you?”

  She nodded, staring down at the table.

  “Are you going to quit working for me?”

  She shook her head no. “He promised me I could keep working.”

  “You want to keep working? Well, okay, then. That’s good.” He smiled brilliantly at her and headed back to his office.

  Ginger knew why Harvey wanted her to continue to work. She never complained about working long hours and she always came in when he asked. She had been grateful for the opportunity to earn more money.

  When the lunch crowds began to come into the café, the tables were properly set and everything was spic and span. Ginger smiled and greeted her customers, efficiently taking orders, just like any other day, until Amy, with her three children and Mrs. Turner, Joe’s mother, entered.

  The hostess seated them at the last of Ginger’s tables. As she turned to go, she stopped by Ginger and whispered, “These people asked for your section.”

  Ginger continued serving meals at the table two rows over, but she peeked in their direction and found Joe’s family smiling and waving to her.

  She hurried over. “Hello.”

  “Do you mind that we asked for you?” Vivian Turner asked.

  “Of course not, Mrs. Turner. What would you like to eat today?” She nodded to the children, Robbie, Drew and Katie. “I bet you want hamburgers with French fries. Am I right?”

  The three children nodded and Ginger looked at Amy for approval. The two ladies made their choices. As Ginger turned to go to the kitchen, she heard a familiar voice. “No, I need to sit in Ginger’s section.”

  Joe had come back to the café for lunch. Had he not liked the sandwich she’d made for him?

  “But, sir, all her tables are full.”

  “She’s my wife and I’m sitting in her section.”

  He was going to announce their marriage to everyone in Mission Creek if she didn’t do something. Ginger hurried over to the hostess and whispered that she would take care of him. Then she took him by the hand and led him to his mother’s table. “You can sit here with Robbie, Joe. Robbie, will you keep an eye on your uncle for me?” she asked with a teasing smile for the little boy.

  Robbie, eight, giggled, and nodded.

  Before he sat down, Joe leaned over and kissed her briefly. Ginger was horrified at his behavior, but he sat down as if nothing unusual had happened.

  “I’ll have a club sandwich, sweetheart. Okay?”

  “Yes, of course, Mr. Turner.” Then she hurried away.

  “I think you embarrassed her,” Amy whispered to Joe.

  “Yeah. She thinks she still has to call me Mr. Turner, even though we’re married.”

  His mother frowned at him. “Everyone doesn’t know you’re married. There’d probably be some complaints about her behavior and she’d be reprimanded.”

  “She’d better not be,” Joe said grimly. “After all, she didn’t kiss me. I kissed her.” He reminded himself to stop by Harvey’s office and be sure Ginger wasn’t punished for his behavior.

  “Mom, I need to talk to you.” He waited until his mother switched her attention from her grandchildren to him. “I need some advice.”

  His sister-in-law Amy grinned. “Trouble in paradise already?”

  Amy was a sweet woman, but she loved to tease. While that made her a good fit for their family, this time Joe didn’t appreciate her sense of humor. “Of course not! I mean, well, I don’t know what to do.”

  His mother raised an eyebrow and smiled at Amy before turning to Joe. “Don’t you think you should have this conversation with your father?”

  He started to get up and walk away, but that wouldn’t fix his problem. “Look, I’m serious.” He told them Ginger’s schedule for the day, and Amy stared at him.

  “You’re kidding. She walked to work this morning? And fixed meals for all day for you? And she’s going to school tonight?”

  “Well,” Mrs. Turner said, “no one will ever accuse your wife of being lazy.”

  “I came after her and tried to convince her to come home with me, but she begged me to let her stay. Her eyes were full of tears.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t know what to do.”

  Amy grinned again. “I know you’re going to fuss at me, but Bill would tell you to count your blessings.”

  “No, he wouldn’t,” Joe returned. “He’s always bragging about how hard you work.”

  “But I don’t work that much. Your wife’s a dynamo.”

  “I thought I was going to give her a better life, an easier life, but all I’ve done is make her work harder. Mom, can’t you tell her that she can’t work this hard, that she should let me take care of her? I think all the boys’ teasing about me not having any money upset her.”

  Ginger came back to their table, holding a big tray overhead. She set up a tray holder, then began delivering their food, the children’s first.

  “Ginger, that was very fast,” Vivian said with a smile.

  “Thank you. Pedro is the chef today and he’s very good.”

  Amy leaned forward. “I don’t see how you lift such a big tray. Isn’t it heavy?”

  “No, no, it’s not heavy. Besides, I’m used to it.”

  “I don’t suppose you can sit with us?” Joe asked, sure he already knew the answer.

  “No,” she said, not smiling.

  “I’ll be back here to pick you up at six-thirty, okay?”

  She ducked her head, but she nodded before hurrying away.

  “Well? Any ideas?”

  Mrs. Turner frowned, but Amy suggested, “Whenever Bill wants me to agree to something, he waits until aft
er we make love and I’m almost asleep. He figures I won’t have much resistance then.”

  “I think that’s unfair of Bill,” Vivian said. “But pillow talk usually does work as long as it’s something for her own good. Try that, dear.”

  Great! The one thing he couldn’t do was what they suggested. He’d have to try to talk to her when he got her home from school.

  He’d already decided he was going to get her a car to simplify her life. He’d take care of that this afternoon. He’d already purchased a diamond ring for her, which he’d thought he’d give to her today at lunch, so eager was he to let everyone know about their marriage.

  But he’d changed his mind. He’d give it to her tonight at home. Too bad he couldn’t give it to her during pillow talk, as his mother had called it. He was beginning to find some things about this marriage that were decidedly inconvenient.

  At six-twenty-five that evening, Joe parked in the side parking lot, near the door the hired help used. He’d been busy all day. He’d talked to the INS agents, telling them that he and Ginger were now married, and faxed them the marriage certificate. They told him he wouldn’t need to visit them. They’d be in contact when they were ready for an interview.

  Then he’d talked to the apartment manager where Ginger had lived. He couldn’t get the man to return the rent she’d paid for the rest of the month, so she’d have plenty of time to decide what to do with the sofa and table and chairs.

  Last, but not least, he’d bought a car for Ginger. Now she wouldn’t have to ride the bus or walk everywhere. He’d chosen a secondhand Honda Accord. He wasn’t sure how well she drove and he thought he’d get this one for her to practice on. It was supposed to be safe and easy to handle.

  At six-thirty, she stepped out into the late sunshine. He saw her pale face and knew she was exhausted. He got out of the car and hurried to give her a hug. “Hi, honey. Are you doing okay? Sure you want to go to school? You could skip class tonight.” Then he’d have time to talk to her.

  “No, I can’t do that. The math professor is going over the test we are taking next week,” Ginger said.

  He hugged her close before he stood back. “Okay, if you insist. Did you eat dinner?”

  “No, there wasn’t time. We were very crowded tonight.”

  “Honey, you’ve got to have some dinner before you go to school. I know, we’ll stop by the condo and get that sandwich you made for my lunch today. It looks good. I didn’t eat it because I wanted to see you.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want it?”

  He smiled for the first time, glad to see some interest in her beautiful eyes. He led her to the car.

  “This is not your car,” she protested.

  “It is now.”

  “You got rid of your beautiful car?”

  “You don’t like this one?” Had he made a mistake?

  “No, this is a fine car, but your other car was wonderful, too. I just wondered why you would make a change.”

  “I didn’t,” he assured her. “I bought this one for you, so you can get to school and back safely. You can drive it tonight.”

  She gasped, her eyes as big as saucers as she stared at him. “No, I can’t. There’s a bus that stops by my apartment. I’ll go there and catch the bus.”

  “No, you won’t. If you want to wait until you get used to driving it, that’s fine. But you’re going to school by car tonight. One of us will be driving.”

  “It will not be me,” she said quietly, and leaned her head against the headrest.

  “Honey, you’re just being plain stubborn about this. It’s the husband’s job to keep you safe, to provide for you.”

  “But when I tried to do what a wife is supposed to do, you complained about it.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, staring at her.

  “You said the wife’s job was to cook and clean. I cooked all the meals this morning. I started your laundry and will finish it this evening. I’ll find time to buy the groceries tomorrow and I’ll iron the shirts, but maybe not until tomorrow evening, if you don’t mind.”

  “You’re doing all this because you thought I expected it? Lord have mercy, I wanted to make your life easier, not harder. You’re trying to do too much.”

  “No. I’m trying to do my share.” Her lips tightened, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared straight ahead.

  Joe rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean—Look, honey, when wives go to school at night and work full-time and—Well, that’s too much. I have a maid who comes in and cleans once a week, and my shirts go to the cleaners every week. Your cooking is great when you have time to eat it with me. You don’t have school on Wednesday night, right?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly, as if she dreaded his response.

  “Okay, we’ll cook dinner Wednesday.” He started the car and backed out, assuming everything was settled.

  “No.”

  He couldn’t believe it. “Why not?”

  “Because I work late on Wednesday nights.”

  He heaved a sigh. “We’ve got to talk about your schedule.”

  He looked at her tired, unhappy face. “But not tonight.” He drew a deep breath. “Now, I want you to watch me handle the car. When we get to the stop sign, you can get behind the wheel.”

  “No. I don’t know how to drive.”

  Five

  Joe took Ginger to school, letting her out with a warning to meet him there after class. Then he went home to figure out what to do.

  When he picked her up at ten o’clock, he still didn’t have an answer.

  “Did you get a look at the test?” he asked, as if he was only concerned with her grades.

  “Not the test, exactly, but he told us some possible questions. But I already knew those things.”

  “Good, so you don’t need to study tonight.” He was determined to settle things this evening. He was too frustrated to let things continue.

  “Not for that class. But I have that history test tomorrow. It’s mid-semester, you know.” She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

  “That’s why we’ve got to talk tonight.”

  She raised her head and stared at him as he pulled onto the road. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying we have to talk. You can’t work as many hours as you have in the past.”

  “You promised!” She drew a deep breath. “I explained why. I need as much money as I can save in the event I have to return to Estonia.”

  “You’re not going to Estonia. You’re staying right here in the U.S., as my wife, for at least a year.”

  “I can’t. Those men won’t let me.” She turned her face away from him and leaned her forehead against the window. The temptation to pull to the side of the road and comfort her was strong. But he didn’t. Instead Joe sped up, anxious to get her inside before they had their argument.

  And he was determined to have an argument. He had promised she could continue to work, but he’d had no idea she meant to work seventy hours a week.

  After they entered the condo, he nodded toward the kitchen table. “Go sit down. I’m going to get us both a bowl of ice cream for a snack.”

  “But I have to finish the laundry. It needs to go in the dryer so I can fold it before I go to bed.” She started toward the utility room.

  Joe caught her by the arm. “No. Not yet. We’re going to come to some decisions.”

  She pulled away from him, but he pointed at the table and she slowly sat down. “I don’t understand what’s wrong.”

  “I’m going to explain.” He took out a couple of bowls and got the ice cream from the freezer. “I went to the grocery store tonight, but I only bought a few things. Ice cream was one of them. I hope you like cookies ’n’ cream.”

  She watched him but didn’t answer. He looked at her, but he didn’t try to coax a smile from her.

  When he put her bowl in front of her, she didn’t pick up the spoon he’d provided.

  “You’d bett
er eat it before it melts.”

  She ignored the ice cream and continued to stare at him.

  “Ginger, I know you’re tired. But I’m trying to make it easier on you. Eat a little, please?” He gave her his best smile. He figured she’d prefer charm to him taking her in his arms. That was getting to be too easy—and too pleasant.

  She picked up the spoon and took a bite. Then she looked at him. “What is it? Are you tired of being married to me? Do you want me to go?”

  “No, of course not.” He took a spoonful of ice cream, too. “I just think we need to change a few things. When I said you could work, I didn’t mean you could work so many hours. It’s impossible to work that much, still go to school and be my wife at the same time.”

  “I can manage.”

  “When will I have time to teach you to drive?”

  “I don’t need to drive. I’ll learn the other bus routes so I can get to school and home. I mean, here.”

  “My family, and half the town, won’t believe we’re married if I let you do that.”

  “Why not?” she asked, a confused look on her face.

  “Because my friends don’t ride the bus.” He knew that was a dumb reason, but he had to start somewhere. “Remember you were worried about me sacrificing myself by marrying you and I said it would help me, that it would stop my family from trying to set me up with different women?”

  She nodded, but she was frowning.

  “Well, it won’t help at all unless we act like married people.”

  “Married people ride the bus all the time!” she exclaimed.

  He sighed. “I know they do, honey, but my friends don’t. They’ll know something is wrong if I let you ride the bus.”

  “Then I will walk.”

  “That’s too dangerous, especially at night. Haven’t you ever been scared doing that?”

  He hadn’t expected her to admit anything, but she slowly nodded, avoiding his gaze.

  “What? When?”

  She bit her bottom lip, then said, “It was before. And he let me go.”

  “You know who it was? Did you report him to the police? Did he hurt you?” Joe felt his heart beat faster at the thought of someone hurting Ginger. “What did he do to you?”