Chapter Eleven:

The Professor finally gave up attempting to work and walked over to the phone and dialed the number Ginger had given him.

A dry, monotonous voice spoke, "Hello, and thank you for calling Sunny Days Hotel. How may I help you?"

"Uh, yes. I was wondering if I could leave a message for someone."

"Room number?" the receptionist asked without a note of emotion in her voice.

"Uhm, room 248, Miss Ginger Grant."

"Okay, what do you want me to tell her?"

"Uhm… can you ask her to call Roy Hinkley?"

"Yes sir, when would you like me to deliver the message?"

"As soon as possible, please," the Professor hung up and dialed another number.

"Hello, Sarah Ainsworth speaking. May I ask to whom I am speaking?" she asked politely.

"Uh, Sarah. This is Roy; hey, wait. Don't hang up!"
"Oh? And why not?" she asked, a little less politely.

"Because I called to apologize for my behavior the other evening," he started uneasily.

"Continue."

"Well, um, the thing you must understand is that I think you're a very nice woman and enjoy your company, but frankly I, um, I don't really have much romantic inclination towards you. And well, the woman at whom you caught me staring at, she was stranded with me and well, we had developed a relationship. Actually, it continued very nicely for quite a while until we had a nasty dispute. But when I saw her last night, I realized what a mistake I had made. And truthfully, I was very surprised to see her."

Ms. Ainsworth mumbled something that sounded like, 'I'll say you were'. Then more clearly she said, "I see."

"I suppose you had every right to call me a cad. But I just wanted to apologize."

"Well, apology accepted. And just remember Professor, just remember, I'll always be here if you change your mind," she finished hopefully.

"Uh, thank you," the Professor replied awkwardly before replacing the phone on the receiver.

Ginger unlocked the door to her room and entered, flipping on the lights. Brian had indeed been very difficult to work with, but she should have expected as much she supposed.

On a small night stand there was a note from the receptionist.

Please call a Mr. Roy Hinkley as soon as possible. Thank you.

She searched around for his number awhile and finally found it in the first place she should have looked, his coat pocket. She quickly dialed the number and heard someone after a few rings.

"Hello."

"Hi, is Roy there?"

"Roy who?"

"Roy Hinkley," Ginger answered.

"Yeah, we got him here. But listen, if you ever want to see him again… ouch! Hey, Uncle Roy, ah, no wait," James shouted as the Professor yanked the phone out of his hands.

"Hello. Ginger?"

"Yes."

"Please forgive that um, conversation; that was my nephew, I mean my cousin, James."
"That's alright; I like a sense of humor."

"Uh, could you hold on a second, privacy is a word without meaning around here," the Professor explained while he shoed James and the other kids out the door, shutting the door behind them firmly. "Now, I was speculating if I might have the privilege of escorting you out during your time of ennui to somewhere quixotic tonight."

"I was wondering if I might have the privilege of what you were asking me," Ginger responded.

"Oh, sorry. Would you like to go out tonight?" the Professor questioned.

"Why yes, I'd love to. Uh, what time?"

"I'll come by around seven."

"Okay, where are we going?"

"Oh, I hadn't considered that," he admitted.

"Well, how about I surprise you?" Ginger suggested.

"Alright, that sounds fantastic. Goodbye," he finished happily.

"Until seven," Ginger replied.

The next few weeks were patterned out in a similar fashion. Almost every night they would get together or at least talk. It seemed that there was a mutual but unspoken agreement between them that they had to spend as much time together as possible while they could. Because neither of them were too sure what would happen at the end of a month's time…