Free The Last Bachelor by Judy Christenberry

several shelves and put her personal items there.Then she headed for the kitchen, thinking it best to give Joe some privacy.
    But when she went into the kitchen, she discovered Maria had already washed the dishes. “Oh!”
    â€œWhat is the matter, señora?”
    â€œI—I was going to have a little more coffee, but—”
    â€œOf course, señora,” Maria said, reaching for a clean cup. “I will pour it for you.”
    â€œNo. I don’t want to make more work for you.”
    Maria gave her a curious look. “It is my job.” Then she poured the coffee. “Do you want to drink it while you watch the news?”
    â€œThe news?” Ginger asked. She didn’t own a television and had never made a habit of watching it. But she didn’t want to disagree with Maria. She was already causing her extra work. “Yes, please, that will be fine.”
    â€œDoes señor want more coffee?”
    â€œNo, he’s in the shower.”
    Maria walked past her, carrying her cup of coffee, and Ginger followed her. Maria clicked on the television, then set the coffee on the coffee table and went back to the kitchen.
    Ginger stood there, uncertain what to do. She couldn’t go back into the kitchen and bother Maria. She couldn’t go into Joe’s bedroom and disturb him. And she no longer had her own bedroom.
    Would she sleep on the sofa tonight? Or perhaps she could slip into the bedroom she’d been using after Maria left. If not, what was she going to do?
    Her knees felt weak at that thought. She sank down to the sofa and picked up the coffee cup. That was what she would do. She could get her clothing for the next day each evening and sleep in the same bed she’d been using. But before Maria came, she would strip the bed and put everything in Joe’s room.
    Surely Joe would want that. It would take time, but she wasn’t going to work as much. She could handle a little extra effort. Was it possible, as Joe had said, that she would be able to stay here for a year? Maybe stay in Mission Creek for years without having to worry about being returned to Estonia? Or to her mother?
    Should she call her mother and let her know that her daughter was now married and beyond that evil man’s reach? Would it help her mother?
    It was the first time contacting her mother had occurred to Ginger. She knew the number by memory. After a quick look at Joe’s closed door, she picked up the phone from the lamp table. Dialing the number, she tensely waited for someone to answer, hopefully her mother.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œMama, it is Virvela,” she said softly.
    â€œWhere are you?”
    â€œI can’t tell you, but I want you to know I am married. I’m not coming back.”
    â€œYou must! They will beat me again.”
    â€œI’m married, Mama. He can’t marry me.”
    â€œHe didn’t want to marry you. I am the one who insisted on marriage. I did that for you!”
    â€œWell, I’m not coming back. Goodbye, Mama.”
    Her mother was scolding her in her native tongue as Ginger hung up. She didn’t even realize she was crying until Joe came out of his room and approached her.
    â€œGinger? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Did Maria say something mean?”
    â€œNo. Maria was wonderful. I—I’m sorry. I know I should’ve asked but I called Mama. I told her I was married and would not be coming back.”
    â€œShe was unhappy?”
    â€œShe said they would beat her again. She said the man did not want to marry me, that she insisted he do so.”
    Joe reached over and wiped her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter what he wanted, sweetheart. He can’t mess with you now. You belong to me.”
    â€œI don’t want to cause you trouble.” She wiped the new tears away. “What if—”
    â€œNo. You’re safe. They don’t know where you are. But don’t call her again,