Ginny's Story Chapter 65

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Ellen and <Jinny.jpg
Wendy 1.jpg

Ginny's Story

A novel by Karen Lockhart

Copyright© 2018 Karen Lockhart
All Rights Reserved.


 


It's funny how things happen


CHAPTER 65

We turned north on route 127 heading for Gloucester. Just think, before Route 128/95 was built, this was the only way to get to Rockport or Gloucester. My grandmother told me stories of this scenic ride. We stopped at the gift shop in the Beverly Farms train station and picked up a few little knicknacks for the house.

I was enjoying being a passenger. I was surprised at how much autumn color was remaining on the trees. My favorite was the bright red of the sugar maples that hung over the road.

I ask Wendy if she wanted to stop in Essex for our lunch, or wait until we arrived in Gloucester.

“Aunty, I just saw a sign for Woodmans, can we stop there? I read about them in the Sunday newspaper. It said they invented the fried clam.”

I laughed, “Honey, a dozen places say they invented fried clams. I thought you wanted steamed lobster though.”

“Eating lobster is a lot of work, and it's messy too. I would rather have a fried clam dinner with French fries and onion rings and really good tartar sauce.”

“Your choice,” I said. “Pull in to the parking lot, Woodman's is as good as anyone.”

We stood at the counter looking at the menu on the wall.

“Last chance, hon, lobster or clams?” I asked.

Wendy just nodded, “Clams.”

A pretty girl took our orders and gave us a ticket, explaining she'd call our number when our dinners were ready. I had to laugh at the way Wendy ordered.

“I'll have tartar sauce, fries and onion rings. Can I have that with fried clams please?”

The girl laughed. “How about trying our clam dinner, it has all of those included.”

She smiled at me over Wendy's head, asking, “Ma'am would you like the same or can I get you just a plate for you to share?”

“Just how big are these dinners? I'm hungry but, no doggie bags today.”

“I'll put in a full sized dinner plate, you two can share, It'll be enough. That way you girls will have room for icecream cones later.”

When the plate was ready, it must have been a foot tall. Darn right we would share, it was huge. Well, for $20 it should be big I guess.

I was enjoying my vanilla milk shake, funny how it's called different things around the country, just like 'submarine' sandwiches are called 'heros' or 'hoagies'. It got the name 'submarine' from a sandwich shop in Groton Connecticut, near the submarine factory. It looked like an electric boat, long and thin and round.

We finished and waddled back to the car. Soon we could see the harbor and the famous statue of a fisherman holding a ship's wheel.

Wendy stopped and took several photos of the monument and the nearby drawbridge.

“That's the bridge the boats go through in that show “Wicked Tuna”, isn't it?” Wendy was all excited. “Look, is that some heading this way now?”

I told her all boats look the same to me and if we want to be home before dark, we better get going.

Around the town we went and turned off to see the sights in Rockport before heading for the rotary and south on Route 128.

I switched places with Wendy for the ride on 128, knowing that it was a bit much for a young driver.

We exited in Peabody and took the ramp for Route 129 and Swampscott.

Ellen was already home when we walked inside.

“Here they are, back from the wilds of Cape Ann. What did you two have for lunch, go ahead, make my mouth water.”

When I described how Wendy ordered, Ellen broke up rolling back and forth on the sofa.

“You sounded like a rube from Michigan, Wendy.”

Her face red, she shouted, “Well, I am a rube from Michigan, so there!”

Ellen and I looked at each other, “You are from Michigan? We never knew. In all this time, you never told us.”

She took a deep breath before saying, “I lived in Michigan before I ran away. I lived up north in the “thumb” where it snowed from October to May. That's why you never hear me complain when it snows here.”

Ellen looked serious, “What town? We should tell your parents you're okay.”

“NO!” Wendy yelled, “I hate them, and they hate me. I love the both of you, not them! I want to stay here.”

Wisely, I change the subject. “Ellen, I've been promoted at work. Starting Friday, I tend bar downstairs at the main bar. That's where Jean works, and what's more, I'll be making $1500 a day, that's over $350,000 a year. I think I'm going to stay a bartender for a while.”

Ellen's jaw had dropped at the money, “That can't be right, let me do the math.”

After muttering to herself for a minute, she nodded and looked up. “Phew, that's twice what I get paid. Any open jobs there?”

Giggling, I said, “Not unless you want a sex change, remember.”

This may be a good time to ask her. “Ellen, when you and Pete get married, are you going to sell the condo?”

“Yes, Pete has a nice Tudor in Wakefield.”

“In that case, would you sell this condo to me? I'll be able to afford it now with what I'm being paid.”

Ellen got excited, “That will be great, you two stay here, and I don't have to advertise it or even work with a Realtor. Let me get it appraised so we can agree on a price.”

“Ellen, maybe you could finance the sale, depending on the price, I could pay you back in four years or less.”

“Good idea, why don't I talk to a lawyer, he can draw something up to protect both of us. Now, are you girls hungry for supper, or are you still full from lunch?”

I looked at Wendy, “Let's order pizza, I'll get a large veggie, that should be enough for us.”

We sat down to pizza and beer for Ellen and me, and diet Pepsi for Wendy.

There were few shows on TV worth watching, so after the news, we went to bed. Ellen and Wendy had to be out by 6:30, I could sleep until 11AM.

I took a shower and threw on a fluffy robe to watch 'The Price Is Right' with my breakfast.

Jean called, asking if I wanted to drive again, “Sure”, I said, “What time is good to pick you up?”

I promised to be there no later than 1:30 and hung up.

'If I'm going to tend bar as a career, I better buy more clothes and of course more shoes,' I thought.

On the ride south I related to Jean the plans of buying Ellen's condo. Jean thought it was a great idea, killing two birds with one stone. Morales' whereabouts came up, Jean didn't think he would have a membership, but if he did, he would be more of a drag queen that a crossdresser. He'd stand out like a sore thumb in the parking lot, making Pete's job easy.

I had to agree she had a point. For the first time, Jean and I were going to the first floor employee's lounge. She gave me a big smile and a kiss on the cheek, saying, “Swing by and catch my act tonight, tell me if I should change anything.”

Logan met me at the bar and introduced me to the waitresses, and warned me some of the things that went on down there would shock a pimp.

I just smirked and asked him if he wanted a drink. “Ever hear of a Clear Coat?”

He shook his head no, and said okay. As I mixed it, I told him what was in it, “Get a tall glass, add 1oz of Absolut peach Vodka, 3oz light rum, and Jones' cream soda. Pour in the rum, fill the glass with cream soda, and splash it with the peach Vodka.”

The other bartenders were fascinated watching me and looked at Mr Logan for his opinion. When he smiled and said it was great, they had me write it down for them.

I hadn't been introduced to the other bartenders the last time, so Logan made the introductions. “Ginny, this is Chris and Bobbi, Bobbi is the tall one and my daughter.”

I turned to him with my mouth open, but before I could say a word, He said, “Yes, the rules are the rules, you have a lot in common with her.”

Ever the smart Alec I said, “Bobbi likes vacationing in the far East too?”

I wanted to bite my tongue, but Bobbi just smiled and said “Phuket?”

Chris and I roared, “Careful how you spell that,” Chris said. “We don't want to offend the children.”

That got all four of us laughing, imaging children taking in Terri the Tiger's act.

From behind me I heard, “Can I get a Cosmopolitan? And a Pabst draft?”

Turning around, there was Cathy and Hiram, both grinning ear to ear.

To be continued.


Many thanks to Bronwen Welsh, for without her encouragement and assistance in correcting typos, this story wouldn't exist.

Special thanks to Tanya Allen for allowing the use of her book The Candy Cane Club in my story.
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Comments

$1500.00 dollars a day, plus

$1500.00 dollars a day, plus tips sounds like really good money; however what is not mentioned is how a person will work their tail off for many, many hours to earn that "good money" and tips. Bars can become extremely full, busy, and impacted by many people all intent and yelling for their drink, and all at the same time. Saw it happen all to often at my Uncle's Bar and lounge that he owned in our hometown.

$1500.00 dollars a day, plus

$1500.00 dollars a day, plus tips sounds like really good money; however what is not mentioned is how a person will work their tail off for many, many hours to earn that "good money" and tips. Bars can become extremely full, busy, and impacted by many people all intent and yelling for their drink, and all at the same time. Saw it happen all to often at my Uncle's Bar and lounge that he owned in our hometown.

Smarthe sass remarks

Samantha Heart's picture

Like that got a good response a good joke. Genny buying the condo from Ellin is a good thing win, win for everyone.

Love Samantha Renée Heart.

"The tiger"

Monique S's picture

has a lot more common sense than Pete, Ellen and Ginny. At least someone is stating the facts. Vinnie might stay a ghost forever.

I agree with the comments about bar work. Been there, done that at the "Prince of Wales" in Holland Park, London, 1974 in the lounge- as well as the public bar. Customers three or four deep shouting orders ... Can't be paid well enough that type of work and it's a trap hard to get out of, even worse, if you live above the place, like Logan's daughter. I know, mine was a live in position, too.

Hugs,
Monique.

Monique S

No, I have not.

Monique S's picture

But I knew two such clubs in Hamburg in the seventies, only they were never ever so successful or had owners, who'd be generous ...
Expensive, though they were.

Monique S

Good Idea

joannebarbarella's picture

To buy the condo, as long as the price is mutually agreeable.

Ginny's story

I've been following Ginny's story since she first showed up driving a truck and I just wanted to tell you how much i've enhoyed it so far and look forward to following it in the future.

Time is the longest distance to your destination.

Wendy Hanson - Have magnifing glass, will travel (Paladin?)

Thank you, I'm happy you've enjoyed the story so far. I love these characters so much, I thinking of one more about the girls, staring Wendy.
What do you think? This allows me to be lazy and not create another story line ^J^

Wendy

I, for one, would like a series of stories featuring Wendy, perhaps starting with her backstory in Minnesota.

And what about taxes?

Jamie Lee's picture

Every time Ginny gets a higher income, she enters, or comes close to entering, a different tax bracket. So if she figures $350,000 or more a year, then she's going to be paying a hefty income tax. And if she suddenly jumps up to that income, the IRS might want to know why the sudden increase. And if they do, then if she tries to hide some of her income she could be way far up a river without a boat.

Projected income is not the same as money in the fist. So until Ginny is absolutely sure of her income she needs to be careful of the commitments she makes. Some big companies have gone into the sewers because of erroneous projected income.

Others have feelings too.