The Last Bachelor. Judy Christenberry
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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 said she got it for overnight guests. You pour it into the water and it makes your skin softer.”
She thanked him and closed the door, turning on the water again. Just this once, she would fill the tub. While the water rose, she found the bottle of oil. After reading the directions, she poured in the right amount.
To her surprise, bubbles began forming. She stood there watching them, fascinated. She almost forgot to turn off the water before it came over the side of the tub. She removed her clothes and slid into the deliciously warm water.
Heaven! She didn’t think she would ever get out.
When the pizza came, Joe realized he hadn’t heard Ginger moving around. He knocked on the bedroom door to let her know their late dinner had arrived. No answer.
Slowly he opened the bedroom door, expecting to see her sound asleep on the bed. But the room was empty. He moved to the bathroom and listened at the door. Complete silence. “Ginger?” he called softly.
There was no response.
He was afraid he’d scare her if he opened the door. After all, he’d told her she’d have her privacy. But worry gripped him. Slowly he turned the knob and pushed back the door.
His princess was asleep in the bath, her auburn hair resting on the back of the tub, bubbles covering everything but her face. Despite how beautiful she looked, he realized the danger in the situation. She might have drowned.
He started to wake her up, but he realized she’d be embarrassed. Instead, he backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. Then he banged on the door from the bedroom and shouted her name.
There was a large splash. “W-what? What is it?”
“I just wanted to let you know the pizza’s here. I don’t want it to get cold.”
“I’ll be right—I don’t have a robe.”
“I’ll put one on your bed. Just give me a minute.”
He had a terry-cloth robe his mother had given him for Christmas that he hadn’t used. He put it on the bed, lingering a minute to imagine his robe sliding over Ginger’s skin.
The bathroom door opened slightly, and he said, “It’s here. I’ll go back to the kitchen. You want something to drink? I have some caffeine-free cola so you can get to sleep tonight. Is that okay?”
“Yes, please.”
Reluctantly he left the bedroom and waited for his wife to join him in the kitchen. It would be their first meal at home together.
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