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"Never Say Die" Ginger didn't even wait until she was all the way inside the house before she kicked her shoes off and tossed them carelessly by the sofa. But then the image of her mother shaking her head at her came to her, and she heard that familiar disapproving voice, Virginia, I didn't raise you to keep a sloppy house. With a guilty sigh, she bent down to pick up her favorite black heels and promptly collapsed onto the couch in exhaustion. She opened one eye and peeked at the grandfather clock at the opposite end of the room. Only 1:45, and she was already this tired? Come to think of it, it seemed she felt drained quite often these past few weeks. She hadn't realized until now how much the stress of her job situation and the rigors of moving must have taken their toll on her, but now, in the aftermath of her confrontation with Arthur, she suddenly became aware of feeling as if she had been run over by a milk truck. She draped an arm over her face and groaned. Maybe a short nap wouldn't be so bad, she thought. Jeff was obviously taking longer at the store than she had expected, but if he had stopped off to run other errands, then at least she could rest a little before she started on the three dozen sugar cookies she had promised Anne she would make. The phone cried out a minute later, breaking the silence. On second thought, that nap would have to wait. "Not now," she whined, at first not moving. But after the third ring, she finally decided there was no use in pretending no one was home--whoever it was seemed intent on letting the phone ring for a while yet. "Metcalf residence," she said, trying hard to remove any signs of fatigue from her voice. "Hi, Ginny, it's me." "Oh, hey, Linda..." There was silence on the other end for a second, and then she heard Linda's somewhat muffled giggle. "You sound terrible!" "Well thank you ever so much, and nice to hear from you too." "Sorry. Are you all right?" "Yeah, I'm fine," Ginger sighed. "I'm just a little run down lately, but I'll be fine. And seeing that louse of an ex-fiance of mine didn't help matters any." "What did Charlie do this time?" "Not Charlie, Miss Smartypants, Arthur!" "Oh that ex-fiance." Ginger could practically picture the look of amusement on her sister-in-law's face, and in spite of herself, she ended up smiling as well. "Are you sure you're okay? I know you like to put on a brave front all the time, but this is me you're talking to. You've been spreading yourself awfully thin these days, what with moving, and helping out with all the Christmas plans... I'm worried about you." "Oh Linda, you're so sweet, but I'm swell, honest. A little tired lately, but other than that, nothing to worry about." "Ginny-" The smile on Ginger's face spread even wider. Linda could be such a worrywart sometimes--and at times like these she could definitely see the family resemblance with Jeff. "Do you want me to see a doctor?" she said. "Fine, I will go see a doctor if that'll put your mind at ease. Honestly, Linda, even Jeff doesn't worry about me this much." As soon as she finished the sentence, she burst out into laughter, and she and Linda said in unison, "On second thought, yes he does..." "Listen I tried calling you earlier, but no one was home," Linda said. "Someone called for you here this morning--I guess they didn't know you and Jeff had moved." "Oh who was it?" "She said she was a secretary for someone named Mr. Francis?" "Francis," Ginger repeated. "I don't know anyone named Mr. Francis..." "Well it sounded pretty important, Ginger. She said he was the station manager at WCLV-" "WCLV?? You mean Richard Francis??" "So you have heard of him?" Ginger almost dropped the receiver from shock. "Yes, of course I've heard of him! But... why in the world would his secretary be calling me?" Before Linda could even answer, she found her voice again. "I have to call him back... I'll talk to you later, okay?" "O-okay," Linda laughed. "Call me when you talk to him..." "I will, honey. Bye!" "Hello, this is Virginia Metcalf, returning Mr. Francis' call?" "One moment please..." One moment? The moment felt like the longest of Ginger's life... What could he be calling he for? Her head spun with all kinds of thoughts, but she didn't dare say them out loud for fear of jinxing herself. No, she was going to remain sensible about this, yes sir. Show business required the utmost cool, after all. "Mrs. Metcalf, I'm so glad you decided to call me back." The voice on the other line was friendly and cheerful--completely unlike Mr. Melon's often gruff manner. This was sounding better already, she thought. "I have to admit, Mr. Francis," she said, wondering if he could possibly hear the excitement in her voice, "I was a bit surprised when I heard that you had telephoned." "Oh now," he said with a silvery laugh, "are you telling me that someone with your talent and poise didn't expect to be bombarded with calls from every station manager in the area after news of your availability spread?" News of her availability? Just who knew about her being fired? "You... know about that, Mr. Francis?" "Yes, I had heard it through the grapevine, and it was most unfortunate, Mrs. Metcalf, most unfortunate. But on the other hand, as they say, when one door closes, another one opens, isn't that right?" Ginger forced a laugh and hoped it wouldn't sound insincere. "Well I do always say we have to accentuate the positive!" "That's what I like to hear... Because I am hoping that you'll consider my offer to be a positive one." Did he say offer? She swallowed and removed any trace of desperation on her voice. "What might that be, Mr. Francis?" Somehow, she could picture him smiling on the other end. "Mrs. Metcalf, what would you say to hosting your own cooking show again... On WCLV?" Ginger's jaw dropped to the floor.
To be continued... 
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