Chapter 14
14
A fter finishing her presentation on basic computer skills for the senior center in Summer Beach, Ginger closed her laptop computer and set it aside on the red Formica kitchen table where she’d worked for years, watching soup simmering on the stove or bread baking in the oven.
She had taught classes at the senior center for a long time, and now many attendees were younger than she was. But then, they hadn’t had her experience.
Stairs creaked and footsteps shuffled across the living room floor. When Heather appeared in the doorway still wearing her beach-themed pajamas, Ginger looked up.
Instantly, she could see something was troubling her. “You’re up early. Ready for coffee?”
“Please.” Heather plunked herself in a chair and leaned her head on the table. Her tangled, dark blond hair spilled over her arms.
Ginger poured a cup and placed it in front of her, waiting for her to share her problems, as she often did. Heather and Marina were close, too. Still, Ginger enjoyed listening and offering advice when she could. That was part of the joy of being the matriarch of the family, a role she relished, although it hadn’t always been easy.
After her graduation in a few months, Heather would marry and leave. Once again, the cottage would be quiet. At least having the cafe nearby gave Ginger a social outlet.
She joined Heather and opened her laptop, adding to her document until Heather was ready to talk. With so much business online, from banking to managing healthcare, seniors needed guidance accessing websites and making safe transactions.
She also emphasized caution because there were many scams. She advised people not to click through unexpected emails from banks but to go directly to the site. And not to give out sensitive details over the phone—they should call the company directly. She paused, thinking of other tips she could add.
After Heather had a few sips of coffee, she heaved a long sigh. “Got a minute to talk?”
Ginger closed her computer. “What’s on your mind, dear?”
Heather rubbed her hands over her reddened eyes. “Blake and I had a long talk last night, and I don’t know what to do. Mom and Jack drove to Orange County to meet his parents at some out-of-the-way cafe Blake said they never go to. Like they were embarrassed to meet them.”
Her voice caught. “And then, his dad started talking—didn’t even let them order anything to eat, even though they had invited them for dinner—and made some outrageous claim about Blake already being engaged to someone else.”
Ginger was shocked and sorry to hear this. “That sounds quite rude, but Blake isn’t responsible for his parents’ boorish behavior.” Marina hadn’t mentioned this yet, but they’d both been busy.
“He said it’s mainly his father. His mom supposedly apologized. They don’t get along very well.”
“And you still haven’t met them?”
Heather shook her head. “Blake says they’re always busy, but now I’m wondering if this is why he didn’t want me to.”
“Sadly, not every family is close.” Ginger lifted a lock of Heather’s hair before it dipped into her coffee. “What did Blake have to say about this claim they made?”
“He totally denies it. He said he dated her in high school, but that’s long over. Ten years ago. But she still likes him, and their parents have promised them huge inheritances if they get married. Something about taxes and partnership agreements that I don’t understand. Priscilla is her name. She’s all for it, but he’s not.”
“Sounds like an arranged marriage.” Ginger didn’t think Blake was the type to agree to that. “Do you think the inheritance is important to him, or might be someday?”
Heather chewed her lip for a moment. “Blake says he doesn’t want any part of that scheme. He can support himself just fine. His father has threatened to disinherit him if we marry, but Blake doesn’t care.”
Ginger nodded, piecing together the story. “It sounds like he has thought it through.”
“I can’t imagine someone turning down a huge windfall, though.” Heather sniffed. “Blake says that when you grow up like that, it’s just stuff. He wants to be happy.”
“I can understand that. He certainly seems to be with you.”
With a frown, Heather asked, “But what if he regrets that decision someday?”
“None of us can project into the future, and nothing is assured.” Ginger fell silent for a moment, recalling when her world fell apart. “In life, we must trust each other and take chances. If you truly love each other and keep the lines of communication open, you have an excellent chance. Blake didn’t choose his parents.”
A tentative smile bloomed on Heather’s reddened face. “I want to believe him.”
“Has he shown you any reasons why you shouldn’t?”
“Only this incident with his parents.”
“Which is out of his control. Don’t let them destroy your relationship as they have destroyed their own. Some people feel unworthy of happiness, so they inflict that on everyone around them, too. Keep your distance, and don’t let them.”
“Sounds easy, but I don’t think it will be.”
Ginger stood and wrapped her arms around Heather’s shoulders. “You’d be surprised what a strong statement the single word no is.”
Heather almost laughed at that.
“Say yes to your young man.” Ginger kissed her on the cheek.
Smiling now, Heather said, “I’ll call him before he leaves for work and tell him I’m okay.” She refilled her coffee and turned around. “Oh, hey, did you see the letter I left in the study for you? It came when you were out with Jack yesterday. It looked personal. I’ll get it for you.”
Heather returned shortly with the letter.
“Thank you, dear.” Ginger glanced at the return address and smiled, pocketing it. She would open it later.
For now, she had work to do. Feeling a sense of relief for Heather, Ginger returned to the kitchen and opened her computer to finish her presentation. She planned to meet with Jack again today. Maybe she would tell him about her early work with computers. She hadn’t thought of Commodore Hopper in years. Rear Admiral, that is. Lower half.
As she shifted in her chair, Oliver’s letter crinkled its presence in her pocket. She would read it when she had time to relax and savor it.
Listening to the latest Elvis Presley song playing in the background to drown the noise of the computers, Ginger’s fingers flew across the keyboard, her eyes fixed on the glowing green text on the computer screen. The whir of the giant machine fans filled the air, punctuated by the rhythmic clacking of keys.
She pulled her sweater around her shoulders and shivered. The room was kept cold to cool the massive computers that took up half the floor space.
She had been selected for this assignment and was eager to use her mathematical skills in an emerging field. Computing was evolving at a breakneck pace and would change the world—and her work—as she’d known it.
Ginger was assigned to the COBOL programming language project. She found it exciting because it was the first computer language created with common language commands, so it could be used by a wider variety of people, such as those in business. If x, then y, else z. She was helping to further this word-based language.
“How are you doing, Ginger?”
Ginger looked up to see her mentor, Grace Hopper, looking at her with curiosity and admiration.
“I’ve just tested this code, and it’s working now,” Ginger replied.
Grace nodded approvingly. “Excellent work. Your contributions to the COBOL project have been invaluable. Have you considered my offer to stay on with the team?”
“My husband will be returning from overseas soon, so I won’t be able to. But I’ve enjoyed contributing.”
While Bertrand was away these past months, she had rented a furnished duplex for herself, Sandi, and an au pair , who was happy to travel with Ginger and see more of the United States. In this case, Pennsylvania. But Bertrand was hinting at a possible relocation for them and had asked her to meet him at their townhouse when he arrived home.
“You’re welcome to return anytime,” Grace said. “You have keen insights to problems that require sophisticated solutions. Perhaps you could work on a consulting basis for special assignments?”
“I’d like that,” Ginger replied. “There are times I could be available.” She had also worked on projects at universities in Boston. This kept Ginger mentally occupied. Sandi was too young to be in school, and Bertrand was gaining experience across several European countries, so she was taking advantage of opportunities.
“Let’s coordinate on those times,” Grace said. “Your help in advancing this project is greatly needed. You share my vision that computers can be used more widely.”
“Thank you,” Ginger said, humbled at her mentor’s trust.
Ginger thought COBOL was revolutionary and could see how it would spread the use of computers beyond the office of mathematicians and scientists who had to laboriously code each command.
She recalled the secretarial work she had performed for Kurt. She thought executives and secretaries could be trained to use programming languages for repetitive tasks like payroll.
A decade ago, Grace Hopper developed the pioneering A-0 compiler, a groundbreaking tool that transformed complex mathematical code into machine-readable instructions. That innovation marked a significant leap forward. Next, Grace suggested a revolutionary idea: writing programs using words instead of symbols. Despite being told it would never work, she persisted. Her team successfully developed FLOW-MATIC, the first programming language to use word commands.
COBOL was derived from that, and Ginger was helping to refine it.
Grace’s eyes lit with another thought. “Would you consider writing a paper on your work for publication?”
Ginger shook her head. “I don’t have the educational credentials, but I could contribute or write the article under someone else’s name on the team.”
Grace nodded. “You’re likely correct. That is a prudent decision, if unfortunate.”
“Knowing my work has value is enough for me,” Ginger added. She didn’t need to call attention to herself.
She had security clearance now and seldom discussed her work with anyone outside her immediate team. She’d settled on the term statistician to describe her work. Few knew what that entailed, so she was generally safe at cocktail parties. For those who did, she could discuss recent studies or theories before turning the conversation to the latest Broadway play.
Life with Bertrand was always exciting. As much as she loved her work, if they moved overseas again, she would welcome that experience, too. She loved living in Paris, and they could easily travel to other countries by train.
Sometimes, she could hardly believe this was her life. When she wrote to her mother in the evenings, she described her new experiences, which delighted her mother. And when they visited Summer Beach, Ginger enjoyed spending time there.
While their lovely cottage there was home, she and Bertrand weren’t ready to leave their professional lives.