A couple of weeks after that day, Ginger was at a bookstore in town.
"I can't believe they actually have it in," said Ginger while looking at a table with a stack of her books sitting on it.
"Wonder if any have sold yet," she thought while picking one up.
"I can't believe my eyes," said an employee who had walked over to her.
"Your Ginger Foutley," she said.
"I am, and I was surprised to see you had my book," said Ginger as she placed the one in her hand back down.
"How could we not have a book written by a hometown author?" asked the employee.
"Oh, and don't let this bother you, we have been restalking all day, in fact there was a couple in here just a little while ago who was from out of town," she said while motioning to the table.
"That means it's been selling pretty well then," said Ginger.
"Sure has, we've sold at least thirty copies and this is the last of what we have," said the employee.
"In fact I bought a copy for myself," she said.
"Well I hope you enjoy it," said Ginger who couldn't help but smile.
"Thanks, but I have to ask if you would mind signing my copy for me," said the employee as they headed for the counter to get her copy from her purse.
"I don't mind," said Ginger before taking the book and a pen. Later on her way home, Ginger was on her phone to Courtney.
"The woman at the store had said they've sold several copies today and she even had bought a copy of my book which she asked me to sign," said Ginger who was unable to stop smiling.
"That's great news, I'm so proud of you, Ginger," said Courtney as she laid on her bed at her house.
"By the way, are you still coming over for dinner tomorrow?" she asked.
"I wouldn't miss it," said Ginger.