Ginny's Story A novel by Karen Lockhart Copyright© 2018 Karen Lockhart All Rights Reserved.

CHAPTER 84

Relax, huh? No sooner did my feet go up, but I was needed in the kitchen by Ellen. What was the emergency? “Do I refrigerate the red wine or the white wine or both!”

I calmly said to chill both for now, and take out the red tomorrow morning. Letting red wine breath doesn't really matter that much with screw-cap wine.

“Actually Ellen, it will be cold enough tomorrow to put the wine outside on the deck.”

Now back to my book, a WEB Griffon series about the Philadelphia police.

After an hour, Wendy dared to ask me about Jack. She was very interested in his desire to date women, even when he's Cathy. She's always liked boys, but does this make her gay? Wow. Before answering, I sent her for a Diet Pepsi.

I took a sip before I replied. “Jack is a heterosexual male who gets pleasure from dressing like a girl. If I wished, when we dated, he would dress as Cathy. This would make people think we were lesbians. But remember, I was born male, take hormones, and had corrective surgery. I like men, and have never had interest in women. You always thought you were a girl even before you noticed there were two sexes. You are attracted to boys, and this is natural for a girl, so you are not gay. Of course, there are a lot of people out there that would like to see us all burn for our sins!

“Complicated? You bet, but my best advice is do what feels right for you. If you think about dinner tomorrow, only Pete and Ellen aren't interesting.”

That started Wendy giggling, “'Interesting', is that how you describe us? Well, it's better than queer, even the old meaning.”

“You know, Wendy, I haven't even touched a horse in months. Now that I can afford to own one I should see Cathy Taurisi my riding instructor about at least leasing one.” I paused, “Rather than shop on Friday, how about the three of us go to Newbury and see Cathy?”

“Why did you stop riding, Aunt Ginny?” Wendy asked.

“It was a couple of things, I started hunting Morales, and then seeing those people killed by Tina's actions, cooled me on going to the barn.”

“You and Aunt Ellen really never said that much about the car accident; was it that gruesome?” she asked, “Wasn't it just an accident?”

I took a deep breath. By this time, Ellen had joined us, and answered Wendy. “It was caused by Tina Morales; she pulled out of Cathy's driveway directly into the mini-van's path. But to make things worse was her attitude after seeing the dead woman and her young daughter.”

“Her attitude?” Wendy asked.

“Yes, she stood looking at the bodies on the stretchers and said, “You got what you deserved; look at my Mercedes, it's totaled!”

“It's a good thing the police were there, I wanted to attack her, and so did Ginny.”

“Where is she now?” asked Wendy.

“She was given the maximum sentence for vehicular homicide and is in prison for at least 5 years.”

I changed the subject by asking about going to Cathy's barn Friday morning. Ellen was delighted and ran to the phone to see if she could take a lesson from Cathy then.

I opened the freezer and removed a large bowl of Chicken stew, and started it thawing in the microwave. In the refrigerator was a tube of French bread that I rolled out and placed in the oven to bake.

A perfect lunch, stew and warm bread, great on a cold and raw day like today.

Wendy suggested pizza for supper and Ellen and I agreed. After lunch, Wendy and I would go out and buy beer. I knew Pete and Jack would rather drink that instead of wine. Pete would probably be thrilled to meet Jack a Red Sox ballplayer.

I started to giggle and snort. The others looked at me asking with their stares what was so funny.

“I would like to see Pete's face if Cathy showed up rather than Jack!”

We all had to change, we peed ourselves laughing so hard.

After a warm and filling lunch, Wendy and I got in my Honda and headed for the liquor store in Vinnen Square. The parking lot was so busy a cop was on duty at the entrance driveway from the road.

Wendy had never been in a liquor store before, and was wide eyed at all the bottles on the shelves. I had her go into the beer freezer to get the boy's beer. Through the closed door, I could hear her shout, “Holy crap!”

When she had placed the case of Sam Adams in the cart, her eyes were still big at the amount of beer in the refrigerated room.

“Now for a nice after-dinner liquor; Wendy do you like licorice?” When she nodded yes, I placed a bottle of Sambucca into the cart, and headed for a cash register to check out.

While standing in line, I was looking at the little two ounce bottles of liquor on display. I decided on a couple to try later. Wendy was giggling at all the cigarettes on display.

“Auntie, did you ever smoke those things?” she asked.

“ I hate to admit it, but I smoked Marlboros for years when I drove a big dump truck. I stopped smoking and wearing men's clothes on the on the same day. Ellen saved my life in two ways.”

When we got back to the condo, I had her carry the beer inside. I planned to put the beer outside in the morning, but fit one six-pack in the fridge. Ellen was watching the TV show 'Ellen' of all things. I pointed out to Wendy, that Ellen DeGeneres was gay and had come out years ago during a sit-com she had.

I went back to my book, and Wendy picked up her laptop and started surfing.

Pizza and beer for supper. Ellen and I decided to allow Wendy one beer with the pizza.

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I was in the kitchen, dancing with the 22lb turkey filled with stuffing. I place it in a 375 degree oven and would baste it every so often and start to do the veggies when it was three quarters cooked. Now I forgot something, what the heck was it? Cranberry Sauce! Is the convenience store down the street open at 8 AM ?

Only one way to find out. I grabbed my down jacket and ran for my car. Wendy was awake, so I yelled to her to make coffee, and I'd be right back.

They were open , but only had those tiny containers of sauce, so I grabbed all they had, about 13 or 14. I was home before the coffee was ready, phew! Wendy the poor child couldn't understand why I panicked.

“I never liked that stuff,” she said, “That and turnip, yuck.”

“Today my dear, you will have turnip and squash on your plate, along with this cranberry sauce. Who knows, you may like them this time. But you can't just have turkey and mashed potatoes. Speaking of potatoes, today you will solo on the stove, making delicious mashed potatoes for dinner.”

Wendy perked up, remembering her job today.

“How does French Toast sound for breakfast?” I asked.

“Can I make bacon and toast to go with it?” Wendy asked.

As I got out the eggs , milk and spices I asked if she really wanted regular toast too.

Wendy nodded as she opened a pound of sliced bacon and started to heat a large fry pan. She put several layers of paper towels on a dinner plate to absorb the extra bacon fat.

I handed her a clean, small glass jar, saying to pour the bacon fat from the skillet and not throw it away.

The smell of bacon awoke Ellen, who wandered into the kitchen, saying, “French Toast and bacon, I'm sleeping late every day.”

Breakfast finished, we started to get the dining table ready for our guests. I checked on Tom Turkey, who was starting to cook nicely. I thawed the frozen turnip and squash, putting each in a separate Corning dish.

I opened the jars of onions, and made the cream sauce with milk, flour and some cooking sherry. After they were cooked, out came another Corning ware dish. Now I had Wendy start her potatoes.

When the turkey was cooked, and I was starting to carve, I would microwave the peas and corn nibblets.

At 12:00, Wendy and I changed and put on our war paint, leaving Ellen to watch over dinner, and answer the door.

Looking like a million dollars, I put on an apron to stay clean. The doorbell rang, and Ellen welcomed Ariana to Thanksgiving.

“I came early to help with cooking, I'm actually pretty good.” She said.

I wasted no time, tieing an apron around her tiny waist, I aimed her towards the stove and ordered “Cook!”.

Pete and Jean arrived at the same time, each carrying a bottle of wine. Ellen took everyone's coat and started to get drinks. Pete wanted a beer, and Jean opted for white wine, Ariana and Wendy got diet Pepsi's and I had an ice water. As dinner was nearing the end of cooking the door bell rang again, Pete answered and was shocked to see Jack at the door with his arms full of cut flower arrangements.

As I introduced Jack around, Pete was actually tongue-tied, finally he said, “You're Jack ***** you play for the Red Sox! Ginny, you minx, why didn't you say something?”

The mashed potatoes were ready, the turnip, squash and onions were on the stove heating, the stuffing was in a pan in the oven and I was making gravy while the turkey cooled a bit before carving.

I had Wendy microwave packages of peas and nibblet corn. The gravy was thickened, and I started to carve the bird. Ariana took care of the dressing, while Wendy spooned cranberry sauce into a serving dish. Every place setting had a tall glass of apple cider and ice water. The beer and wine were self-serve except for the bottle of white wine on the table.

Pete offered and said grace, and soon only the sound of silverware on China was heard.

After the table was cleared, I placed the pies and a pot of coffee on the table along with the Sambucca. The leftovers were put into meals for Jean, Ariana, Jack and Pete. The rest was put away in the fridge and the dishes and pots were in the dishwasher.

We sat in the living room and watched the late NFL game; Kansas City beat their arch rivals the Raiders 24 to 13.

When the game was over, Everyone made their good-nights and left. Before she left, I asked Ariana if she liked horses. when she said "yes", I invited her to come with us in the morning to Cathy's farm. Telling her to be here by 9 AM, off she went, home to Revere. Of course, Jack and I played tonsil tennis before he left, and I think Ellen and Pete did the same.

I collapsed into the recliner with my shoes off and a glass of cold cider, Finally! I'd been going since 7 AM. Wendy and Ellen dragged me to bed, promising to take care of anything needing picking up.,

To be continued.