John Loves Ginny
John Bridges had grown weary of Omaha’s singles world but more weary of spending another evening at home alone, watching television, and overeating. So, he got dressed and drove to a party for members of the Who’s Who Singles Club at Donna Fields’ upscale home in Regency.
In Donna’s spacious family room, people mingled with cocktails in hand, greeted each other with big smiles and hugs, chatted, and munched on finger-food. They glanced at the entrance frequently, especially the women. John suspected they hoped someone would show-up that would prove more interesting than the people who were already there.
After several awkward and unsuccessful attempts to fit in, John relaxed in a chair and listened to a provocative conversation going on a short distance away. As he listened, a woman quietly pulled a chair up close to his and feigned interest in the same conversation.
Her dark blue eyes sparkled, and there was a girlish sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her honey blond hair was pulled back gracefully away from the fine features of her face. Her silky, green dress hugged her shapely body and flowed into a full skirt that draped over her legs and onto the floor. Pearl earrings dangled from her ears, and a pearl cluster ring adorned her right hand.
“Hi. I’m John Bridges,” he said.
“And I’m Ginny McLaine, who likes to dance. Do you?”
“Yeah, if I’ve had enough to drink.”
“I’ve heard there's dancing downstairs.”
“I’m game if you are,” John said, jumping to his feet and facing her.
Ginny looked up at him and smiled. “Have you had enough to drink?”
“Let’s find out,” John said as he took Ginny’s hand, pulled her up out of her chair, and led her downstairs.
* * *
In between dances, John and Ginny drank white wine and talked about their careers, their likes and dislikes, and the way they felt about being single again. It was clear they liked each other, so when she told him she had come to the party with a friend, who wasn’t feeling well and left earlier, he volunteered to drive her home.
While driving, he glanced at her and smiled several times. Once, when they stopped at an intersection for a long red light, she leaned toward him with a soft glow in her eyes, cradled his face in her hands, and kissed him gently on the lips. Aroused, he hesitated before lifting his foot off the brake when the light turned green.
At Ginny’s front door, they kissed and lingered in a warm embrace.
“Good night, John,” she said. “I had a wonderful time tonight.”
“It doesn’t have to end now,” he whispered.
“I know,” Ginny said, stepping back from him. “But I don’t want to rush things.”
“So, you’re sending me out into the chill of the early morning air and telling me to accept the pain and frustration of rejection all alone.”
“You’ll survive,” Ginny said with a teasing smile. “And does that line ever work?”
“I don’t know,” John said. “I’ve never used it before, but now that I’ve found a woman as attractive as you, I thought it was worth a try.”
“I find you attractive too,” Ginny said. You’re tall and handsome with the most beautiful brown eyes I’ve ever seen. But we might have something more wonderful than attraction starting between us, and I don't want to spoil it by moving too fast.”
Although disappointed, John agreed and said good night.
Ginny and John quickly became a couple about town. They went out to dinner, to parties, to the theater, to art galleries, and of course, to Ginny's favorite place to dance on Friday nights, the Lazy Leopard Lounge. On Sunday mornings, they played golf and had a late breakfast at the Neon Goose.
John's friends told him how lucky he was to be dating someone like Ginny. He agreed. In fact, he believed he had met the woman with whom he could enjoy the rest of his life. And although he believed she felt the same way about him, he sensed she was keeping something from him—some part of her life that she thought might spoil their relationship.
* * *
After several weeks of dating, John thought it strange that he had not met Ginny’s daughter Millie. Ginny always had a reason why Millie was not around when he came to the house.
Even stranger was Ginny's sudden coldness when they were close to sexual intimacy. She was very sensuous and free with displays of affection—kissing, hugging, and touching, but when John pushed for more, she backed away.
John decided to discuss his concerns with her one evening after dinner at Gorat’s Steak House, but before he had the chance to say anything, Ginny surprised him by inviting him to her house the following evening for a late supper. She told him that it was about time she prepared a home-cooked meal for him, and more importantly, she wanted him to meet Millie.
“Great!” John said. “What time?”
“Millie won’t be dining with us. Eight-thirty is her bedtime, but you’ll get to meet her if you come to the house a little before that,” Ginny said.
She did not say anything about John’s major concern, sexual intimacy, and he decided to postpone that discussion until after their late supper.
* * *
John arrived early at Ginny’s house the following evening—almost an hour early. He rang the doorbell, and a girl in a plain white dress, sneakers, and barrettes in her hair opened the door.
“You must be Millie,” he said with a smile.
As the girl smiled and nodded yes, Ginny came in a rush to the door. She seemed tense. “Stand back, Millie,” she said, opening the door wider. “Come on in, John.”
“Am I too early?” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
“It’s okay. You’re fine. I’m just a little stressed this evening,” Ginny said, then placed her hands on the girl’s shoulder and added, “This is my daughter, Millie.”
“Hi, Millie. I brought two bouquets of flowers, one for you and one for your Mom.”
“How sweet. Thank you, John” Ginny said, taking the bouquet he handed to her and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
When Millie reached out to take her flowers, her pale blue eyes twinkled. She grinned, and her face flushed.
“What do you say, Millie?” Ginny said.
“Th-Th-Thank you,” Millie said, trying hard not to stutter.
“You’re quite welcome,” John said.
“Go to the bathroom, Millie, and put your flowers in a glass of water, and then put them in your bedroom,’ Ginny said. “Take John with you.
While in the bedroom, you can show him your doll collection.”
“I'd like that,” John said as he took Millie’s hand and let her lead him from the living room to a bathroom half way down a narrow hall.
He stood outside the bathroom door and watched her carefully put her flowers in a glass of water. Then he followed her into her bedroom across the hall where she placed the flowers on her dresser.
He straddled a small chair next to her bed while she sat on the floor in front of him, showing him her dolls and jabbering away about each one. She identified her favorite doll and told him that she named it Kim after her best friend at school. She got so excited sometimes that she didn’t complete one sentence before starting another, all the while struggling not to stutter. She behaved like a girl of ten or eleven, but John sensed she was much older. He also sensed that in addition to her stuttering, she was retarded.
At a little before eight-thirty, Ginny came in and said, “Millie, it's time to get ready for bed.”
“Oh, M-M-Mom!” Millie pleaded.
“No argument,” Ginny said firmly. “I'll come in when you’re ready and tuck you in.”
Minutes later, John and Ginny heard Millie call out, "M-M-Mom, I'm r-r-ready!" When they returned, Millie, who had dressed herself in a girlish pink nightgown, jumped into bed and covered herself.
Ginny gave Millie a big hug and a kiss. “Good night, sweetheart,” she said as she tucked in Millie’s covers.
“N-N-Night, John,” Millie called out. “And Th-Th-Thank y-y-you f-f-for the fl-fl-flowers.”
“You’re, welcome,” John said. “Sweet dreams, Millie.”
Ginny turned out the light and closed Millie’s bedroom door. Then she and John went into the kitchen where she took what she needed from the refrigerator to prepare a tossed salad.
John noticed that she was even more tense than when he arrived.
“Ginny, what’s wrong?” he said.
“Nothing.”
“Yes, there is. What is it?”
“I'll tell you later,” Ginny said and then tried to divert John's attention by adding, “Why don't you go into the dining room and pour some wine for us? It's on the buffet, along with a couple of wine glasses. And while you're doing that, I'll finish this salad and check the roast in the oven.”
John returned shortly with two glasses of wine. “Ginny, for God’s sake, please tell me what's wrong?”
“I said I'll tell you later.”
“Tell me now, so it doesn't spoil our supper.”
“Please, John, don’t push—just don’t!”
John helped Ginny put supper on the table and poured more wine for them. Ginny avoided eye contact with him as they ate, and the pleasantries exchanged between them were awkward at times.
While clearing the table after they had finished eating and drank the last of the wine, John said,” It was a wonderful supper, Ginny. Thank you.”
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. While I tidy up in the kitchen, why don't you go into the living room and relax? I'll be there in a few minutes, and we can talk."
* * *
After fifteen minutes, or so, Ginny came into the living room and sat facing John on the couch with one leg tucked under her.
“John,” she began. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that besides Millie’s stuttering, she’s slow mentally. She behaves like a little girl, but she’s actually nineteen—almost twenty.”
“You mean she’s retarded.”
“That term isn’t used anymore. Now, her condition is called mentally challenged.”
“So, why haven’t you told me about Millie’s condition before now?
“I should have, but I was hoping that if we dated for a while, and we liked each other, it might not make any difference to you that I have a child with mental challenges. I'm not ashamed of my daughter. I love her very much, and she loves me. But, I need a man's love too.”
Tears rolled down Ginny’s cheeks as she added, “I've been so worried and upset about you coming this evening, and it’s gotten much worse since you arrived. I don't want to lose you.”
John put his arms around Ginny and held her close. "Now, I understand why Millie was never around when I came to the house,” he said. “I don't know much about children with mental challenges, but had I known about Millie earlier, I don't think I would have panicked and disappeared."
Ginny pulled herself away from John. “Perhaps you wouldn’t have,” she said. “But let me tell you that as soon as most men—at least the ones I've known—learn about Millie, I don't hear from them again.”
She paused and then added, “Even her father, who I’m convinced caused her condition, took off and left us.”
“How did her father cause her condition?” John said.
“It's a long story.”
Trust me. I’m not going to panic and disappear. And we've got lots of time. So, tell me.”
Ginny rearranged herself on the couch. “I was pregnant—about seven months along. Sam, Millie’s father, had been drinking most of the night at a party we attended,” she said. “I begged him to let me drive home, but he wouldn't listen. He never listened to me, even when he was sober. Anyway, he was driving very fast and weaving all over the street. He ran a stoplight, and a man in a pickup hit our car on my side. My seatbelt broke loose somehow, and I was tossed over on top of him in the driver’s seat. He was unharmed, but I was badly shaken and bruised.”
“What about Millie?”
"The doctor at the hospital, and later my doctor, told me that Millie didn't appear to be harmed. After she was born, and we realized she was mentally challenged, my doctor said the accident might have caused some brain damage, although he couldn't be sure."
Ginny paused. “But, I know the accident was the cause, and that miserable drunken bastard I was married to was responsible! What hurts—what really hurts—is that Millie is not so unaware that she doesn't wonder where he is and why he doesn't come to see her!”
John reached out and cradled Ginny in his arms.
“I haven't behaved like this in a long time,” she said. “You must think I'm an emotional wreck.”
“Not at all, and I'm glad you've opened up to me about Millie. There is something else, though, that I've been wondering about and found very frustrating. It's your apparent fear of sexual intimacy.”
Ginny pulled away from John. “I’m not afraid of sex, or sexual intimacy as you call it, at least not in the sense that I’m frigid or anything,” she said. “The truth is I’ve wanted to rip your clothes off a dozen times and make wild and passionate love with you. But I held back—pushed you away—because I didn’t want to get too involved until I knew how you would react to Millie’s condition.”
John smiled. “That’s great news. It takes a big load off my mind.”
“If we had become involved sexually, and afterward, you would not have been able to accept Millie, I would have fallen apart,” Ginny said.
“You're too strong a woman for that, but I understand what you’re saying.”
“And too, I’m an old-fashioned girl. I don’t want to jump into bed with a guy until I get to know him, and he has courted me properly.”
“I’m a sucker for old-fashioned girls,” John said with a grin.
“All of them?”
John kissed Ginny tenderly on the lips, and whispered, “Not any longer. From now on, the only old-fashioned girl for me is you?”
“I’m in love with you, John.”
“I’m in love with you too. And you can stop worrying. The three of us will do just fine.”
John kissed Ginny again and held her close until at last, she relaxed. After a long silence, she pushed herself away from him and felt her face and hair.
“God, what I must look like,” she said. “Let me go freshen up.”
While Ginny was gone, John tried to imagine the ways a child with mental challenges would complicate their relationship. Nothing occurred to him. Besides, Millie gave him the opportunity to become a father again and in a very special way make up for some of the mistakes he had made fathering his own children. He could help provide the love, protection, and guidance Millie needed as she faced what must seem to her at times a very complex world.
When Ginny returned, she had refreshed her make-up, brushed her hair, and straightened her clothing. “Do I look okay?” she said.
“You look terrific.”
Ginny turned on the television to an old movie. “This is an oldie, but I don’t remember the name of it.” she said.
“It looks like the original version of A Star Is Born, the one with Janet what's-her-name and Frederick March.”
“Want to watch it?”
“Yeah, sure.”
John and Ginny lay intertwined on the couch and watched the movie, but before the movie was over, they had fallen asleep.
* * *
Thunder and lightning from an early morning storm woke John. Ginny was nowhere in sight. He went into her bedroom and found her in bed asleep. When he bent over and kissed her on the lips, she woke up, stretched herself, and smiled.
“Hi, handsome,” she said.
“Do I still have to go out into the chill of the early morning air and accept the pain and frustration of yet another rejection all alone?” he whispered.
“You’re funny,” she said with a chuckle. “But yes, you do for now. I’m sorry, but Millie will be up soon. I'll call you later.”
* * *
At a little after two o’clock, Ginny telephoned John. “Hi. I've been thinking about us all day, and I just want to know one thing,” she said.
“What?”
“Do you still love me?”
“Of course. What’s there not to love?”
"I’m at work, and I’m taking off early to have my hair done. When I look gorgeous afterward, do you think I could get you to take me out for a night on the town?"
“And then what?”
“And then come back to my house and fool around seriously.”
“You better believe it!” John said, almost shouting. “But, what about Millie?”
“Millie is spending the night at a friend's house.”
“Terrific! So, what time do you want me to pick you up?”
In Mae West style, Ginny said, “Pick me up at seven, sweet stuff. And when we get back to my place, I’ll be ready, and I mean really ready if you get my drift.”
John laughed.
They said goodbye. Needless to say, John was on time for their night out on the town, well-groomed and eager. And each time he got that don’t-you-think-it’s-time-to-go-back-to-your-place look on his face, Ginny smiled.
Copyright © 2024 Frank Zahn. Published in Meat for Tea: The Valley Review, forthcoming December 13, 2024.