The Last Bachelor. Judy Christenberry
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I don’t want it to get cold.”
“I’ll be right—I don’t have a robe.”
“I’ll put one on your bed. Just give me a minute.”
He had a terry-cloth robe his mother had given him for Christmas that he hadn’t used. He put it on the bed, lingering a minute to imagine his robe sliding over Ginger’s skin.
The bathroom door opened slightly, and he said, “It’s here. I’ll go back to the kitchen. You want something to drink? I have some caffeine-free cola so you can get to sleep tonight. Is that okay?”
“Yes, please.”
Reluctantly he left the bedroom and waited for his wife to join him in the kitchen. It would be their first meal at home together.
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