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"	Gene's Story or How I Gained a Cousin < A novel by Karen Lockhart Copyright 2016

CHAPTER 49

Ginny surprised me! Supper was boiled lobster, corn on the cob, steak fries, and a fresh garden salad. How she gets the groceries inside the house without me seeing her do it is a miracle.

After those huge sundaes, we ate later than usual. This was not a big deal as the following day was Sunday, the kind without a cherry on top. We could sleep late, eat breakfast late, whatever we wished could be done late.

The football started at 1pm; Ginny could get her big, athletic, 'men in Spandex' fix anytime from 1pm to midnight. I'd be watching right along with her, but for different reasons. Heck I'm a fan, I used to tailgate with my dad and his friends at the games in Foxborough. Nothing like overdone chicken, and underdone burgers in a parking lot, filled with drunken, under-aged men.

Ah, the national favorite, American Football. At least we don't cause riots during games, like happens with the game also called football, but actually called Soccer. I wonder, do the Italians tailgate before a game with Brazil? What do they have? Spaghetti with meat sauce, and grilled medallions of veal and pesto sauce? Somehow it doesn't sound the same.

As promised, we woke late, had a brunch of scrambled eggs, bacon, melon, and pink grapefruit, washed down with gourmet coffee, grown in Kenya. How decadent! What do you expect from two equestrian women?

I hurried into the living room, to watch the Patriots' game, while Ginny washed the dishes, and pans. She made it in time for the first play. Ginny only missed the first kick-off, no big deal today; take a kneel, spot the ball on the twenty yard line, ho hum.

During the advertising breaks we talked about her future with the drug cartel, and Mister V. Morales. It seemed clear that there was more to this than just Vinnie. Having the two Boston detectives go so far out of their jurisdiction looking for 'Gene', made that definite. I suspected a Mafia connection here, and wondered how much the mob wanted Gene.

The trucking company had already been taken apart by the State Police; Morales was suspected to be the cocaine connection on the North Shore. The biker gangs were known to be carrying drugs in from New York down the Massachusetts Turnpike.
It seemed to us his only value was bringing in drugs from offshore.

I thought that if Ginny went for a name change before the probate court in Massachusetts, no one would read the public notice. Now to find a newspaper suitable to the judge, but not read very much. The Boston Herald was out, so was the Boston Globe. I wasn't sure about running the ad in the Lynn Item, or The Salem Evening News.
Ginny was concentrating on the Essex County papers, and came up with the Newburyport News.

It was decided, file the change of name papers with the Salem Probate court, and run the declaration of change of name in the Newburyport paper. That was the easy part, now who to use as a lawyer, and the timing for it?

“I think to put it in the paper over Thanksgiving will almost guarantee no one reads it,” Ginny was positive on this. “If not then, over Christmas.”

“Your driver's license is based on a birth certificate”, I said. “You already have that. You need real charge cards, and a passport. “

She looked at me and smiled, “Ellen, what would I do without you? I forgot about the phony driver's license.”

“You'd remember quickly, if a cop ran your license! Since Steve is aware of your status, and got those funny ID's, why don't I ask him tomorrow about a lawyer?”

“Are you sure Steve will come by the project?” she asked.

“You forget, we're staying in his condo in Waterville Valley when we're skiing over the Thanksgiving weekend. They've been making snow since we had that little storm down here.”

“I'm not sure I have clothes for skiing,” Ginny said. “I may have to buy some.”

Now that got me laughing, she'd use any excuse to shop. “Ginny, you do ski, right?”

“Oh yeah, but now I'm going to be a snow bunny, I'll let the guys help me down the slope. I've skied double diamond slopes since I was a teenager,” She smiled. “I actually did some ski racing as a kid.”

“Okay, you can ski, but don't show off too much, and bring attention to yourself.” I thought for a minute, “Do you want to ask Tina, or distance ourselves a bit over the weekend?”

“She will be alone you know, she's not going home to have Thanksgiving with her father and what ever hooker Vinnie has staying with him. We should ask. Unless you don't want to, Ellen.”

Now I felt like a rat, leaving her alone on a real family day. “Do you want to call, or should I?”

Ginny gave me a hug, smiled and said ”I'll call her. I'll say you asked me to invite her, whether she skis or not.”

We had a quick sandwich and iced tea during the half of the Patriots' game. Ginny grabbed her cell phone and gave Tina a call. I don't know what they talked about, but the call lasted most of the second half of the football game.

Ginny waited for a time out. “I asked Tina over for supper, I tempted her with a pot roast dinner.”

“When did you start a roast?” I asked. “We eat in an hour.”

“One of the things you can get at Cosco's meat department is a pre-cooked pot roast that is very good. If you add a can of carrots to the roast, it adds just enough flavor. It's as good as most restaurant pot roasts.”

Tina walked across the street about this time. Never empty handed, she had a couple bottles of Chianti to enhance the meal.

I was still watching the final minutes of the late afternoon game, the score was tied, with a little over a minute remaining, threatening overtime.

“Oh good, you have the game on,” Tina shouted,”I've been watching this game, I can't believe it's still tied.”

Denver ended the game with a 62 yard field goal, this with only 15 seconds remaining. Tina and I were disappointed, we both were rooting for Oakland to win.

While we were watching the game, Ginny laid the table and sliced the roast. She let Tina open the wine, while I got three glasses of iced water for the table.

We talked about the coming ski trip. Apparently, Tina skied at my level, so we'd be company for each other, while Ginny played snow queen on the experts' slopes.

She mentioned her father's boat. “He leaves it in the water all year, just moving it from the yacht club in Revere to Boston harbor. Frankly, I don't see the point; when it ices up, he has to run pumps to keep the ice away.”

“What did he do last year?” I asked, “It was below zero degrees F for a week at night.”

Tina laughed, “It stayed in. As a matter of fact, he told me over the phone yesterday, that he and two friends were going out on Thanksgiving Day to fish.”

And I thought I was dedicated to my hobby.

We left it with Tina that we'd leave at noon on Wednesday, taking my Explorer. That way we had more room and a better four-wheel drive in case of snow.

“Great, I'll call your cell in the morning to be sure,” she said.

With that, Ginny and I bade her a good night, watching her to the sidewalk, before closing the door.

Many thanks to Bronwen Welsh for her help in fixing typos and grammar