The Last Bachelor. Judy Christenberry

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are we going? You needed to turn back there.”

      “No, sweetheart. My condo is two more blocks ahead. I live in the Blue Shades complex.”

      “But I do not!”

      Joe sighed. “We’re married. That means we live together.”

      “But I don’t have clean clothes. And I need my uniform for the morning,” she said firmly, feeling like an idiot for not realizing what was going to happen.

      Joe turned at the next street corner and headed back the other way. “Okay, we’ll go to your place and you can pack what you need for tomorrow. We’ll get the rest of your stuff later.”

      “Do you have enough room for me?”

      He grinned at her. “I have a lot more room than you do. By the way, where do you sleep? I never saw a bed.”

      “On the sofa. It’s called a futon.”

      He shook his head.

      “What?”

      “You’ll have your own bedroom at my condo. I have three bedrooms, so it will be just fine. I promise.”

      When they finally arrived at Joe’s condo, he unlocked the door and swung her up into his arms. She clutched him around the neck. “What are you doing?”

      “It’s a tradition in America. The groom carries the bride over the threshold of their first house.” He carried her into the place and set her down, giving her a kiss that wouldn’t be easily forgotten. He was breathing a little heavily when he stepped back.

      “But we’re aren’t—”

      “Shh. I don’t need to kiss you again this soon. But I’ll have to if you’re going to say anything inappropriate.” He grinned, trying to convince her he was kidding. But she took a couple of steps back.

      “So what do you think?” he asked, waving his arm to indicate he was asking about his condo. It was well designed, with blue-and-cream-colored decor. Ginger began to prowl around. When she came to a door, she would ask permission to open it. His bedroom didn’t receive much inspection, but the other two bedrooms, with a bathroom between, were closely examined. The kitchen, however, received the most attention. It was large, with modern appliances, all sparkling clean.

      “This is beautiful!” Ginger exclaimed.

      “I’m glad you like it. I’ve designed my dream home, but since my move to Mission Creek was temporary, I didn’t see any point in building it yet. This condo has been fine for me.”

      She gave him a strange look. Then she asked, “Which room shall I use?”

      “Either one. But I think the second one is larger. Tomorrow we’ll pack up your apartment and see if we can get your deposit back. Did you pay first and last month?”

      She nodded.

      “Okay, I’ll talk to the manager. I’m going out to get your bags,” he said, and turned toward the door.

      “I can go get them.”

      “No, honey, that’s another thing husbands do.” And he disappeared.

      She sat down in the living room, unable to believe she would be living in such a beautiful home. The slate-blue carpet was thick, two couches faced each other with a large square coffee table in between. Lamps and decorative items filled the room. Her mother’s apartment in New York City was dingy and small, nothing like this.

      “Did you decide which room you want?” Joe asked as he came in with her bags.

      “The second room is fine.” She hurried over to open the door. “The bed in here is so pretty.” It was queen-size, with a beautiful comforter and pillows on it. She couldn’t wait to get in it.

      “Thanks. Jenny picked out the coverlet. She said it reminded her of a flower garden.”

      “Yes, it does,” she said a little stiffly. “Joe, will she understand about me? I do not want to cause you trouble.”

      He turned around to stare at her. “Jenny? Why wouldn’t she?”

      She shrugged her shoulders and sighed.

      “I should’ve taken the leftovers Mom offered. You’re exhausted and you ate hardly anything.” He turned and left her in the room by herself.

      She started to follow him, but she decided she’d apologized enough. Instead she decided to unpack. Her clothes barely made a dent in the deep bureau and roomy closet. She gathered clean underwear and her nightgown and deposited them in the connecting bath.

      She came back out and went into the living room again. “Is it okay if I take a bath?” She was so looking forward to it. Because the tub in her apartment was narrow and rusty, she had only taken showers since she’d come to Texas.

      “Sure. I ordered pizza, by the way. It’ll fill you up so you can get a good night’s sleep. For breakfast tomorrow, I have cereal. But afterward we’ll go grocery shopping and get what you like.”

      “I can eat cereal.”

      Joe eyed her speculatively. “Ginger, earlier tonight did you think my brothers were teasing me because I didn’t have money?”

      She hesitated. “Maybe.”

      “Honey, they were teasing me because I don’t usually spend a lot of money. I have that reputation, but it’s only because there’s just me. I have money, I promise. Certainly enough to buy groceries.”

      “I can give you my rent money.”

      “Now, don’t start that again. I told you how marriages work. I pay the bills, okay?”

      She nodded, remembering the wifely duties he’d pointed out. She’d have to be sure she did everything as he wanted. To be able to live in such luxury for even a few months would be worth hard work.

      “Go get your bath and then come out. The pizza will be here by then.”

      He’d ordered pizza because he thought she might be hungry? That seemed the height of decadence. She loved pizza, but she only allowed herself to order it once a month, on her day off. Usually, she worked seven days a week. Harvey didn’t mind, and she’d been saving her money. When she worked, she got two meals at the club, and she usually skipped the other one.

      She went into the bathroom and began running the water, delighted when no rust came out as it did in her apartment. Then she heard Joe’s voice. She hurriedly turned off the taps, afraid she was using too much water.

      “I only used a little. I’m sorry,” she said as she opened the door.

      “What? Use as much as you want, honey. It’s okay. I wanted to tell you there’s a bottle of bath oil or something in there that you might like.”

      “But it’s not mine.”

      “I know. Jenny

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