Gypped by Carol Higgins Clark Page B

about divorce. “Second marriages are more likely to fail than first marriages,” it began. Roger threw down the paper. Marriage is a commitment. You have to work at it.
    The bathroom door flew open. “ Ready! ” Bobby Jo enthused. “Do you think these shorts make me look fat?”
    Roger laughed. “Not at all. You look beautiful.”
    Bobby Jo came over and kissed him. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”
    The restaurant was large and ornate, with bright orange walls and crystal chandeliers. Buzzing, beeping, and musical sounds emanated from the casino. “Hello to the newlyweds,” the maître d’ greeted them, flashing a smile.
    “We’ve been married thirty-six hours,” Bobby Jo crowed.
    “That’s beautiful. Follow me.”
    He led them to a private table, in the corner. “Now,” he said as they were seated. “Can I get you each a mimosa? Or perhaps a bottle of champagne?”
    “Sure,” Bobby Jo said excitedly. “Roger, should we get the bottle?”
    Roger put up his hand. “I think I’d better hold off. No champagne for me.”
    Bobby Jo ordered a mimosa.
    “A mimosa it is.”
    “And I’ll have coffee,” Roger said.
    “Perfect. I’ll put in the order. Enjoy.”
    “Come on, Roger. I’m starving.” Bobby Jo led the way to the buffet table.
    There was every kind of breakfast food imaginable. Roger ordered a vegetable omelet. While he was waiting, he made toast for himself. Bobby Jo stacked her plate with blueberry pancakes, then picked at the pan of bacon, choosing the crispiest pieces she could find. Returning to the table, they dug into their food.
    “I can’t wait to see the house Zelda is staying in,” Bobby Jo finally said after polishing off half her plate. “I’d really love to leave here right after breakfast.”
    “Honey, remember we talked about how dangerous it is to drive through the desert at the hottest time of day?”
    “You’re right. What time should we leave, then?”
    “Around four.”
    “Sounds good. We should be there by nine. Maybe we can go to a late dinner. Los Angeles has so many great restaurants with lots of action.”
    “Let’s see what time we get there and then decide.”
    Bobby Jo sipped her coffee. “I have so much to do when we get back. First, I have to get rid of my apartment. All my things won’t fit in your place. Maybe we should buy a new house.”
    Roger cleared his throat. “Bobby Jo, I don’t think that’s a good idea at our age.”
    She smiled. “Don’t forget. I’m six years younger.”
    “Yes, you are. Well, at my age, I don’t want to take on any debt.”
    “I’m sure Zelda would lend you the money.”
    “I’m sure Zelda would do anything I wanted. But I don’t want to borrow from her. If we ever needed money, she’d be right there. But a bigger house is something I’m not interested in.”
    “You’re right,” Bobby Jo agreed. “What was I thinking?”
    “We’ll have a nice life. I’d love to travel again.”
    “Me too! I didn’t mean to look greedy.” Bobby Jo rubbed his hand with her finger. “You’re so neat and I have so much stuff. That’s all I was thinking. But don’t worry, I’ll get rid of as much as I can.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s not going to be easy.”
    “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll make room for you.”
    Bobby Jo pushed back her chair. “I’m going up to get some fruit. Would you like anything?”
    “No.”
    Roger watched her walk over to the buffet table. A busboy with a tray of dirty dishes almost ran into her. A plate fell to the floor. Bobby Jo leaned down and picked it up for him. She’s a good woman. You made the right choice, Roger, he said to himself, you’re getting the jitters for no reason. He turned back to the table. A few minutes later he picked up his phone and dialed Zelda. It rang and rang. Finally her voice mail answered.
    “Hey, honey, it’s Dad. Bobby Jo and I will be leaving Vegas around four. Just wanted to make sure everything was okay at your end. We thought we