come from the healthiest family in the world. My folks didn’t talk to each other for three years once. Not the best example of a good marriage. I just know some things should not be bought on sale. Go for the top of the line where men are concerned. Pity is not a good thing to base a relationship on either. I always feel real sorry for that mustard-colored down jacket that is left on the clearance rack. But I don’t look good in mustard. Some guys are mustard-colored down jackets. Leave them on the clearance rack and hold out for a designer man.
Ginger would never let her do an entry like that, but it made her smile. Xabier was certainly designer caliber and sweet. Next time she saw him she would have to ask him if he had any interest in the price of baseball cards on eBay.
When Ginger opened her eyes, the room was completely dark. The aroma of grease and salt made her mouth water. A takeout box rested on the table. Ginger sat up on the bed. Phoebe wasn’t beside her. She called for the cat but didn’t hear a reply. After turning on the light, she checked under both beds and in the makeshift carrier. Hmm. That cat had to be somewhere.
Her growling stomach drew her to the table by the window. She opened the foam box. Cold hamburger and french fries never tasted so good. She clicked on the overhead light to read the note beside the box.
“Sleeping Beauty, we are too wound up to sleep. Gonna hit some, of underground outlets. All the, shops are, open late. Took the, laptop. We’ll do the blog entry. The BHN.”
Ginger never thought she would see the day when she wasn’t leading the charge to an outlet store. She opened a ketchup packet, squeezed some onto the foam carton, and dipped a fry.
Feeling better equipped to deal with the convention sites after a good rest and food, she opened the curtains. The convention floor buzzed with activity. Now, where was booth 29, the booth that was supposed to be theirs? The hotel had sent her a map of the convention floor when they had first signed up. Her eyes scanned over robots, objects too small to discern arranged on display, and what looked like an ordinary washing machine, only larger. There it was. Booth 29. A man stood folding and unfolding a ladder while several other men watched.
Ginger leaned a little closer to the window. Was she seeing right? Earl, her Earl, was out on the convention floor not far from booth 29. She couldn’t make out his features from this distance. It was his straw hat with the peacock feather that she recognized, his way of standing back on his heels. He spoke to someone who was hidden behind a display board that said Wesson Electronics. Even at this distance, the slicing motion of his hands communicated anger. She gave herself one guess as to why her hubby was mad.
Ginger rested her forehead in her hands. She didn’t think he would get here so fast. The last message she’d gotten from him said he was still waiting for the plane with their lost luggage to arrive. She should have been the one to break the news to him.
Earl disappeared behind a sign.
Watching the convention floor was like picking a scab. She turned away and took another bite of burger. “Phoebe. Kitty, kitty, kitty. Mama’s got a burger.” No reply. The bathroom door was closed. Phoebe liked sleeping in bathtubs.
She finished the last bite of her burger. When she checked the bathtub, Phoebe wasn’t there. Her rib cage tightened. Okay, she was a little worried about Phoebe. The cat might have slipped out when the girls came up to drop off the food. She turned around to grab another french fry and caught a glimpse of Earl pacing the convention floor, head lowered. She needed to get down there, to be with him.
Music muffled by glass played on the convention floor, probably a march. Led by the gray teddy bear, the toys, an assortment of dolls, soldiers, and stuffed animals, wound through the convention floor. Ginger hoped Xabier was better at Shakespeare than he was at being a dancing
Jennifer McCartney, Lisa Maggiore