heâd 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 Menâs Grill. As the architectâs wife, sheâd 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 wasnât 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. Itâs in the refrigerator. Thereâs 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. Iâll finish the laundry tonight. I dusted the furniture but did not vacuum because I didnât want to wake you.
Thank you.
Ginger
He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was only nine-fifteen and sheâd 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.
Heâd hoped heâd find Ginger on the street and could pick her up, but he didnât 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.
âJoe, I was going to call you. I have some questions about the opening. Come right in.â
âNo. I need to find Ginger.â
âSheâs working. Now, about the flowers weâreââ
âWhere is she?â
âSheâs in the Yellow Rose Café, setting up for lunch. Now, about theââ
Joe ignored the man and hurried to the café. There were several waitresses setting the tables, but he didnât see Ginger. Then she came from the kitchen, carrying a tray of salt, pepper and ketchup for the tables.
âGinger!â he exclaimed.
She stopped and carefully set the tray on the nearest table. âYes, Mr. Turner?â
He couldnât believe she was calling him Mr. Turner. âWhat did you say?â
âI asked what you wanted.â
âIt was the âMr. Turnerâ bit that bothered me,â he growled.
âJoe, I was talking to you,â Harvey called from the door, moving toward them.
âI know, but I need to talk to my wife.â It was Gingerâs reaction that had him turning to stare at Harvey, who appeared stunned.
Then he managed a small laugh. âCome on, Joe, if you want a cup of coffee before we talk, just say so.â He turned to Ginger. âGet Mr. Turner some coffee and bring it to my office. And maybe a Danish, Joe?â
âNo. Iâve had breakfast. My wife fixed it for me.â
âWhat are you talking about? I know youâre not married, Joe. Your mother complains about it all the time. Now, what I neededââ
âMeet Ginger Turner, my wife.â While Joe said those magical words, he slid his arm around Gingerâs waist.
Harvey stared at them as if heâd seen a ghost. âGingerâ¦Ginger is your
Mark Russinovich, Howard Schmidt