Ginny's Story Chapter 43

Ellen and <Jinny.jpg
Ginny's Story

A novel by Karen Lockhart

Copyright© 2017 Karen Lockhart
All Rights Reserved.


It's funny how things happen


The rest of the week went by with little or no excitement. I took Wendy out driving several times and on Thursday, she and I went to the Registry of Motor Vehicles in Revere at Bell Circle. We received a number, just like the deli counter at the Supermarket.

This of course got Wendy to giggling, “Gee Aunt Ginny, can we also get some sliced ham and egg salad?”

As I was hushing her, our number was called. Evidently, each of the clerks worked with these numbers. Even though our number was 223, for getting an appointment for a learner's permit, we were second in line.

I provided the clerk with Wendy's birth certificate, and Social Security Number. She gave us the rules and regulations, and told us Wendy should study the book, then come back to take the learner's permit test.

Wendy surprised me by asking the lady if she could take the test now, while we were there.

“Are you sure, honey?” the clerk asked. “If you want to try the test, you can. It's a computer test, and you have 20 minutes in which to finish.”

“Yes Ma'am, if I can, that would be super!”

Soon I was parked on a long wooden bench while Wendy entered a room to take her 25 question test. I think 18 correct answers was passing.

After 15 minutes, Wendy came out with a huge smile, and ran over to me.

“Aunt Ginny, I got all 25 correct! Look, here's my permit! Can I drive back, please”

Mind you all this was said without taking a breath. I looked over to the clerk, who smiled and said “Congratulations young lady, drive carefully now.”

To say I was surprised, was an understatement. We returned to my CR/v, and I tossed Wendy the keys, saying “Home James.”

In fifteen minutes, we were back at the construction job. When the masons saw Wendy driving, they hid behind palates of brick and concrete block, yelling, “Watch out, a woman driver coming!”

Wendy laughed along with them as she proudly entered the office.

Ellen looked up from her figures and smiled at Wendy, hearing the racket from outside.

Wendy kept waving her learner's permit in front of Ellen and me as if she was the first person to have one.

It was time to head home, and you guessed it, Wendy wanted to drive. I nodded and reminded her she still had my keys. Monday was Columbus Day, so we had a three day weekend coming. I wonder if the boys wanted to do something different for a change.

Supper was going to be a pot roast that night, so I asked Wendy to peel five potatoes and open a bag of baby carrots.

I browned the roast, then added a quart of water, some burgundy wine, a package of sliced mushrooms and a package of Onion soup. After an hour I had Wendy add the carrots and the chopped up potatoes. I put the stove burner on '5' and set about making a tossed salad. Of course, I had a couple of glasses of wine while doing this, so I was getting boiled along with the roast!

Everything was ready at 7 o'clock. Wendy had already set the table, so the only thing that was needed was drinks. I joined Wendy with a diet Pepsi, while Ellen had iced water.


Friday found us waking up to heavy rain and wind, no work that day. This gave Ellen and I a chance to catch up on our paper work. Wouldn't you think everything would be placed on memory chips or thumb drives? But no, the bean counters and the IRS wanted hard copy records.

While we were pounding away, Wendy was killing monsters or walking cabbages or something. Maybe I could get her interested in that game where you develop a town and then a city.

Saturday we would have our riding lessons. I hoped it would be less exciting than the previous Saturday was.


Ellen resisted Wendy's pleas to allow her to drive; Route 1 was more than she was ready for. Chris Brady and her father were there when we pulled into the riding school.

Chris's eyes were huge as she asked what happened the previous week. She and Jim saw the news reports on television and read about it in the paper. We were sitting in the tack room when Cathy joined us. The four of us filled the Bradys in on Tina's reaction, which shocked Chris as much as it had us.

Kevin's truck pulled into the parking lot as we finished bring Jim and Chris up to date. Billy came flying out, making a beeline for Wendy. Soon those two were absorbed in each other. I could burst into flames, and I doubt the kids would notice.

We were put through our paces by Cathy; I even worked an equitation pattern along with the other two. Kevin was getting the work cart ready as we cooled out the horses. He even had Billy helping out.

We retired to the viewing room gabbing as we watched Kevin and his driving horse, Doc, go through their paces. Wendy and Billy were standing in a corner of the arena watching. I think Wendy was fascinated by what Kevin was doing. Her interest in Billy was on hold while she watched.

We headed south for home. Kevin and I made plans for later, but just a quick dinner at Bertucci's, nothing fancy.

Pete's cruiser was outside the condo as we drove into the driveway. Pete was leaning on the fender of his Crown Victoria, smiling. We herded him inside and put on a pot of coffee.

As soon as he was inside, Pete turned on the television and searched for the Boston College, Notre Dame football game. Ellen and I exchanged looks.

“Gee Ellen, if you wore a horizontally striped shirt, do you think he'd notice you?” I kidded.

This of course got a reaction from Pete, who defended himself, and put his arm around Ellen. “See, isn't this better?” he asked.

Even Wendy started to tease the two lovebirds, comparing Billy and her to Pete and Ellen.

Kevin came by about then, but when he saw the football game, he sat on the sofa's arm beside Pete.

“Oh no,” I said, “We are going for dinner now. Come on, lets go! You can put the game on the radio.”

After we left, Ellen and Pete started speculated on Morales and his choice of bars. Surprising them, Wendy suggested Morales was probably hiding in heavy makeup and women's clothing.

Ellen asked what she meant by that, but Pete looked like he just sat on a hot stove, jumping up and exclaiming, “That's it Wendy.”

Wendy explained, she thought Morales was hiding in drag, not trying to pass as a true woman, but outrageously overdone. He might even be doing a stage act. She looked at Pete and asked him how many places had a drag stage act.

“I really don't know, but in the four states there must be a lot. Let me call Sargent Schultz,and have him search that out.”

When he mentioned the good Sargent, Wendy quipped, “You know he'll say, 'I know nothing, nothing'”.

Pete called in an order for a meatball and onion pizza.

“Do you girls know what pizza is Italian for?” Pete asked.

Our little Miss Know-it-all jumped up and said: “PIE, a pizza pie is a pie pie.”

Just then, Kevin and I arrived with Billy, and Jim Dandy sundaes from Friendly's. Our timing was excellent; the others had finished the pizza and still had room for desert, well, Pete did anyway.

Before Ellen or Pete could speak, Wendy filled Kevin and me in on the new thoughts on how Vinny Morales could hide in plain sight. This got Kevin thinking.

“That explains bar-tendering at the gay bar in Salisbury, and him looking for a job at Fran's Place in Lynn. Did anyone ask what kind of job Morales was looking for?”

I think Pete saw the challenge we had with this young genius under our roof.

Saying he would ask the Lynn cops that question on Monday and that he would be waiting for the lounge to open and poke around himself, Pete kissed Ellen goodnight and gave Wendy a quick hug as he went out the door.

We sat around speculating on Wendy's ideas and even made jokes about Vinny offering lap dances.

Ellen and I let Kevin explain to Wendy just what a lap dance was. Nice to see he was able to turn Wendy's favorite color, Fire Engine Red!

On Sunday we made plans to do antiquing on Monday. Who knew, we might find a steal!

To be continued.

Many thanks to Bronwen Welsh, for without her encouragement and assistance in correcting typos and sentence structure, this story would not exist.

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