Ginger’s stomach rumbled, asking for food, rejecting the forming rock of tension as any kind of nourishment. Tom certainly didn’t heed his daddy’s warning. “Did you have an affair?”
“No! No . . .” Mama broke open a set of chopsticks and swirled her chicken through a pile of fried rice but never took a bite. “Remember Parker Fox?”
“I think. Wasn’t he the banker you dated?”
“I finally thought I’d found me a good one, you know? He adored you.”
“If you say so.” None of Mama’s boyfriends ever adored Ginger.
“He wasn’t a drinker or doper. He wanted a nice suburban life. Just like I wanted when I married your daddy.”
“So what happened?” Ginger scooped a forkful of rice and beef into her mouth, exhaling, willing this conversation to be about truth. Maybe healing.
“He asked me about your scars.”
Ginger set down her fork and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “He didn’t want a stepdaughter with such ugly scars?”
“No, Ginger, why do you always assume the worst?”
“Because it’s usually true.”
“He wanted to know how it happened. So I told him. He was aghast. First that you were trapped in a trailer fire but mostly because I’d left you alone. I told him you were twelve and that I’d only gone down to the Wet Your Whistle for a beer and burger with a guy from work. That was too much for him and he wanted out.” Mama snapped her fingers. “He didn’t feel I’d be a fitting mother should we ever have kids.”
Ginger shoved her food about her plate. “I’m sorry, Mama.” But in a small way, she understood Mr. Fox.
“I was pretty messed up. Started having nightmares of you trapped in all sorts of fires. Only I couldn’t rescue you. I’d wake up in a panic, trembling like a pup in a rainstorm.”
“Where was I? How did I not know this?”
“You were sixteen, trying to figure out life for yourself. Wasn’t fitting for me to dump my burden on you.”
“But we were supposed to be the Gilmore Girls. Best friends and all.” A bit of the sarcasm she loathed coated her response.
“Don’t be impertinent, Ginger. Anyway, that’s when we started attending church.”
“And you hooked up with Pastor Wells?”
“I did not hook up . I started wondering if this God business was what I needed. We needed. I had a few questions and Pastor Wells agreed to meet with me. We discovered we both liked nature and art. He lent me a book on John Audubon. I showed him a few of my sketches. I started attending the women’s Bible Study on Tuesdays before work and I started stopping by his office before I left.” Mama lifted her gaze.“He was so kind, you know? Actually listened to me. No man, not even Parker Fox, ever really listened to me before.”
“So you had an affair? With a married man of God?” Ginger shuddered. Having experienced fire, she had a deathly fear of hell. And of the God, if He existed, who claimed He could send her there. Real or imagined, she tried to avoid ticking God off at all costs. So messing with His men was way off limits.
Another reason to avoid Tom Wells Jr.
“We didn’t have an affair.” Mama snatched up her glass of sweet tea, taking a big gulp. “But I was falling for him. Found myself thinking of him all the time.” She pressed her hand over her heart. “He started living in here more than he should. I was falling in love . . . So I told someone.”
“Who?”
“The leader of the women’s Bible study, Janelle Holden.”
Ginger had some experience with church women in the shop. Having a crush on the pastor was a big, fat no-no.
“Why would you tell her ? Why not Aunt Carol or your buddy, Kathleen?”
“Because Janelle said she was there to help us, to guide us to Jesus. Ha, what a crock. She went from friend to foe before I even got to the end of my first sentence. Next thing I know I’m sitting before an elder board, confessing the whole story without a moment to defend Tom or speak to him privately. He didn’t
“No! No . . .” Mama broke open a set of chopsticks and swirled her chicken through a pile of fried rice but never took a bite. “Remember Parker Fox?”
“I think. Wasn’t he the banker you dated?”
“I finally thought I’d found me a good one, you know? He adored you.”
“If you say so.” None of Mama’s boyfriends ever adored Ginger.
“He wasn’t a drinker or doper. He wanted a nice suburban life. Just like I wanted when I married your daddy.”
“So what happened?” Ginger scooped a forkful of rice and beef into her mouth, exhaling, willing this conversation to be about truth. Maybe healing.
“He asked me about your scars.”
Ginger set down her fork and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “He didn’t want a stepdaughter with such ugly scars?”
“No, Ginger, why do you always assume the worst?”
“Because it’s usually true.”
“He wanted to know how it happened. So I told him. He was aghast. First that you were trapped in a trailer fire but mostly because I’d left you alone. I told him you were twelve and that I’d only gone down to the Wet Your Whistle for a beer and burger with a guy from work. That was too much for him and he wanted out.” Mama snapped her fingers. “He didn’t feel I’d be a fitting mother should we ever have kids.”
Ginger shoved her food about her plate. “I’m sorry, Mama.” But in a small way, she understood Mr. Fox.
“I was pretty messed up. Started having nightmares of you trapped in all sorts of fires. Only I couldn’t rescue you. I’d wake up in a panic, trembling like a pup in a rainstorm.”
“Where was I? How did I not know this?”
“You were sixteen, trying to figure out life for yourself. Wasn’t fitting for me to dump my burden on you.”
“But we were supposed to be the Gilmore Girls. Best friends and all.” A bit of the sarcasm she loathed coated her response.
“Don’t be impertinent, Ginger. Anyway, that’s when we started attending church.”
“And you hooked up with Pastor Wells?”
“I did not hook up . I started wondering if this God business was what I needed. We needed. I had a few questions and Pastor Wells agreed to meet with me. We discovered we both liked nature and art. He lent me a book on John Audubon. I showed him a few of my sketches. I started attending the women’s Bible Study on Tuesdays before work and I started stopping by his office before I left.” Mama lifted her gaze.“He was so kind, you know? Actually listened to me. No man, not even Parker Fox, ever really listened to me before.”
“So you had an affair? With a married man of God?” Ginger shuddered. Having experienced fire, she had a deathly fear of hell. And of the God, if He existed, who claimed He could send her there. Real or imagined, she tried to avoid ticking God off at all costs. So messing with His men was way off limits.
Another reason to avoid Tom Wells Jr.
“We didn’t have an affair.” Mama snatched up her glass of sweet tea, taking a big gulp. “But I was falling for him. Found myself thinking of him all the time.” She pressed her hand over her heart. “He started living in here more than he should. I was falling in love . . . So I told someone.”
“Who?”
“The leader of the women’s Bible study, Janelle Holden.”
Ginger had some experience with church women in the shop. Having a crush on the pastor was a big, fat no-no.
“Why would you tell her ? Why not Aunt Carol or your buddy, Kathleen?”
“Because Janelle said she was there to help us, to guide us to Jesus. Ha, what a crock. She went from friend to foe before I even got to the end of my first sentence. Next thing I know I’m sitting before an elder board, confessing the whole story without a moment to defend Tom or speak to him privately. He didn’t
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