Mirror, The (13 page)

"I figured as much," Steve said.

Ginny slipped her hand inside Steve's but didn't immediately reply. She instead continued to watch and listen and try to make sense of this strange time the calendar called 1964. For several minutes she stood and watched men in sweaters and slacks mingle with women in sweaters and pleated skirts and talk about Barry Goldwater, civil rights, and "that band from England."

"Thank you," Ginny said.

"Thank you for what?"

Ginny tightened her hold on his hand and met his gaze.

"Thank you for showing me around the campus. Thank you for ditching your class," she said. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, I did. I knew this was important to you. As for sociology, I'll survive," Steve said. "I'm almost certain they won't hold my degree for skipping a lecture."

Steve waved to an acquaintance in the distance and then turned to Ginny.

"So you had a good time today, huh?"

"I had a great time," Ginny said.

"That's awesome. What did you like best?"

Ginny pondered the question before answering. In all honesty, there were many things she liked about one of the best afternoons of her life. She liked the long stroll through the heart of the campus, eating lunch in the student union, and even meeting a student who was close friends with the folk trio Peter, Paul, and Mary. Best of all, though, she liked spending time with a graduating senior who seemed almost too good to be true.

"I can't narrow it down," Ginny said. "It's all been fun, even this. Do you often throw parties on Wednesday nights?"

"No. This is rare. We do this maybe once or twice a year."

Ginny looked around the patio and saw boys with beers hit on girls with glasses of wine. The men tried to impress the women with tall tales and their knowledge of the world. The women tried to impress the men with fawning smiles and timely giggles. Put differently, little had changed among the eighteen- to twenty-two set in fifty-six years.

"Then I guess this is my lucky night," Ginny said.

She grinned mischievously.

"I guess so."

Steve peered over the shoulders of a fraternity brother toward a food table at the other end of the patio. A few feet away, another well-dressed man put a new 45-rpm record on a turntable that looked like it belonged in the Smithsonian. Within seconds "Louie Louie" by the Kingsmen blared through two large speakers and several couples hit the dance floor.

"It looks like the food line is thinning," Steve said. "Do you want to get something to eat?"

"Maybe later," Ginny said. "Right now I just want to stand here and take it all in."

Steve nodded and started to say something but stopped when two men and a woman approached. All wore sweaters and smiles.

"There you are," one of the men said. He had his arm around the woman. "I've been looking for you."

Steve gently guided Ginny a few steps back to make room for the newcomers.

"I heard you had a new friend and wanted to meet her," the man said.

"Haven't you met enough people tonight?" Steve asked.

"You can never meet enough people."

"I suppose not," Steve said with a gentle laugh. He glanced at Ginny. "I guess we're done hiding."

"That's OK," Ginny said.

Steve pulled his hand from Ginny's and raised it to her shoulder. When he had the attention of the others, he introduced them in the order in which they stood.

"Ginny, this is Dean Price, Bill Brooks, and his fiancée Janice Bailey. Dean, Bill, and Janice, this is Ginny Smith."

Ginny shook three hands and exchanged minor pleasantries.

"Dean is a sophomore from Ellensburg who is very active in student government," Steve said. "In fact, I think he just got elected president of the College Republicans."

"It was vice president, actually," Dean said, "but who counts vices?"

I do
, Ginny thought.

She forced a smile.

"That's impressive," Ginny said.

Steve continued.

"Bill is a graduating senior. Like me, he's planning to attend law school back east in the fall. Unlike me, he's planning to get married this summer."

"Congratulations," Ginny said.

"Thank you," Bill said.

"Janice, of course, is Bill's lovely bride-to-be. Janice is a past president of Kappa Delta Alpha, a future lawyer herself, and crackerjack tennis player."

"Steve exaggerates, as I'm sure you've discovered, but he means well," Janice said.

She offered Ginny a smile and a glance that projected both sincerity and warmth.

"As for Ginny, she just moved to Seattle from Thousand Oaks, California. She and her twin sister are working at Greer's Grocery. They're trying to save enough money to attend the university in the fall."

"You're a twin?" Dean asked. "You mean there are two of you?"

Down, boy.

"There are two of me," Ginny said pleasantly. "My sister Katie is working tonight."

"I'd like to meet her," Dean said.

"I'll see if I can arrange it."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"I'm curious about something," Janice said. "If you enrolled this fall, would you enroll as a freshman?"

"I would," Ginny said.

"So you recently graduated from high school?"

Ginny didn't need a road map to see where this was going.

"I graduated last year."

Janice smiled at Ginny and then shifted her attention to Steve Carrington, cradle robber. When she raised an eyebrow, he blushed.

"My sister and I decided to work a year before attending college," Ginny said. "I assume you allow students to do that here."

"Oh, we do," Janice said. "I apologize for the questions. I just wanted to make sure that you, as an incoming freshman, knew about rush. I'm sure the ladies of Kappa Delta Alpha would love to consider you – and your sister – as prospective pledges."

They should. We're legacies!

"That's nice to hear. Katie and I are planning to participate in rush."

"That's wonderful," Janice said. "I won't be here, of course. I'll be in New York trying to keep this guy on the straight and narrow, but I'd be happy to put in a good word for you."

"I'd like that," Ginny said.

Ginny meant it too. She knew a good word in 1964 probably wouldn't hold a lot of weight during rush week 2020, but it might. She laughed to herself as she imagined the possibilities.

"Well, I won't keep you any longer," Janice said. "I'm sure you would much rather spend a night like this talking to Mister Carrington."

Ginny smiled when she saw the word "Mister" trigger another blush. She would have to encourage Steve at least once or twice to apply for Social Security benefits.

"It was nice meeting you," Janice said.

"You too," Ginny replied.

Ginny shook three hands and watched the trio drift off to other people and presumably less mundane conversations. When the three disappeared from sight, she turned to Steve.

"Well, that was interesting," Ginny said. She offered a playful glance. "Your friend Janice wasn't very subtle."

Steve laughed.

"She never is."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Are you bothered by our age difference?"

"Nope. Not at all."

"Are you bothered by the fact you're dating a hitchhiker with a high school diploma?"

Steve laughed again.

"Nope. Not at all."

He smiled and threw his arm around Ginny.

"Of course, my opinion isn't the only one that matters."

"What does that mean?"

He sighed.

"What it means, my dear, is that I want you to meet my parents."

CHAPTER 23: GINNY

Thursday, May 14, 1964

"Ouch!" Ginny cried.

"What did you do?"

"I cut my finger on this razor blade of a grocery bag. They should ban these things."

"Are you all right?" Katie asked.

Ginny looked at her index finger and saw a tiny drop of blood form at the tip.

"Call 9-1-1, Katie. Tell the dispatcher I need a good-looking medic to patch me up."

Katie laughed.

"I'll get a bandage."

"Don't bother. I'll keep licking it," Ginny said. She continued placing brown paper bags in their designated slots at Checkout 5. "If it grosses out the customers, I'll just say I'm donating to the Red Cross."

Katie smiled and shook her head.

"You're impossible."

"I'm serious though. Why use paper? Paper bags kill trees, kill fingers, and fall apart in the rain. If they weren't good for book covers, they would have no earthly purpose. I think we should demand that Mr. Greer switch to plastic."

"I don't think they have plastic bags," Katie said. "This afternoon I asked a man, out of habit, if he wanted paper or plastic, and he looked at me funny. Pete looked at me funny too."

"Then we'll just have to drag them into the twenty-first century."

Katie laughed again.

"You two are having way too much fun over there," Paula said. She rang up a large order at Checkout 1. "Can I get some help over here?"

"I'll go," Katie said.

"No. Let's both go," Ginny said. "That lady has a lot of stuff. I'll help."

"Thanks."

By the time the twins reached Checkout 1, Paula Benson, the fastest checker in the store, was more than halfway through a full cart of groceries. The courtesy clerks pulled out several of the brown-paper killers and bagged the customer's items without incident.

As the patron pulled a checkbook from her purse and began writing a check, Ginny noted that she was dressed differently than most of the middle-aged women who shopped in Greer's. She wore a business suit and carried herself with unusual confidence. A girl of maybe thirteen or fourteen years stood at her side. At 8:55 p.m., or five minutes before closing time, the two would likely be the last customers of the day.

The woman signed the check, tore it out, and started to hand it to Paula. She pulled it back the second it touched Paula's fingers. The check slipped out of both women's hands and fluttered to the floor, landing near Ginny's feet.

"Darn it!" the woman said. "I forgot to get buttermilk and tomato paste."

"I can get them," Katie said. "Does it matter what kind or what size?"

"No," the customer said. "Anything will do. Thank you."

Katie walked over to Checkout 2, which offered unobstructed access to the food aisles, and stepped through the lane. She headed for the far side of the store and disappeared.

Ginny remembered the check on the floor and lowered herself to retrieve it. When she picked it up and read the names printed on the front side, she became lightheaded and grabbed the end of the checkout counter for support.

"Are you all right?" the lady said.

"I'm fine, ma'am. Thanks for asking."

Ginny stood up straight, sighed, and offered the check to the woman. She became unnerved when the woman stared at her like a curiosity and very unnerved when she maintained that stare.

Ginny was so flustered by the time she put the check in the customer's hands that she had to break off eye contact. Her heart pounded as she turned to Paula.

"The tomato paste is on this end," Ginny said. "I'll go get it."

"OK," Paula said.

Ginny raced through the free lane at Checkout 2 and made a beeline for Aisle 3. When she got to the right section, she grabbed a small can of tomato paste off the shelf and ran through the back of the store to Aisle 12. She reached the aisle just as Katie pulled a pint of buttermilk out of the dairy case and started to walk away.

"Don't go anywhere!" Ginny said.

Katie stopped and turned around.

"What are you doing here?" Katie asked.

"I came to tell you something."

"Tell me later. I have to get the tomato paste."

"I
have
the tomato paste," Ginny hissed. "It's in my hand. Now listen."

"OK. What is it?"

"When you left, I picked the customer's check off the ground and read the names printed on the front," Ginny said.

"So?"

"The names on the check were Joseph Jorgenson and Virginia Jorgenson. Ring a bell?"

Katie's face turned white.

"That woman is our great-grandmother – and my namesake," Ginny said.

"That means the girl is Grandma Cindy."

"Or Aunt Joan. But I'll bet you a week's pay she's Grandma."

"What should we do?" Katie asked.

"I don't know. I haven't thought that far," Ginny said. "I just sense this is an opportunity. Let's just go back to Checkout 1 and see what happens."

"OK."

The twins walked toward the front of the store. When they reached the end of Checkout 1, they gave the buttermilk and tomato paste to Paula to ring up.

"Do you want to pay for these with cash?" Paula asked the lady.

"No. I'd prefer to write another check, if that's all right."

"It's fine with me."

The woman Ginny now knew as Virginia Gillette Jorgenson, mother of Cynthia Jorgenson and future grandmother of Joel Smith, pulled out her checkbook and repeated the process of paying for her groceries. As she finished signing the second check, she looked up and saw two nineteen-year-old twins stare at her and smile.

"Thank you, girls, for all your running around. I'm practically useless without a shopping list," she said. She handed the check to Paula and turned to face the clerks. "I haven't seen you two before. Are you new to Greer's?"

The girls nodded.

"We started here last week," Ginny said.

"Oh," the lady said. "Do you attend the university?"

"No. We hope to soon though. We just moved here from California and are trying to save enough money to go to school in the fall."

The lady, who looked a lot like Katharine Hepburn and even more like a woman in a photo at Grandpa and Grandma Smith's house, smiled warmly at the sisters.

"That's very commendable. Many young people these days expect their parents to foot their college bills. It's refreshing to see that some still believe in hard work and thrift."

"Thank you, ma'am," Ginny said. "We're doing our best."