Keeping Victoria's Secret

by Melinda Peters

  “For me? Oh Doc, Mrs. Sweeney, I haven’t had a cat since Mom and Dad died. Nanna and I couldn’t have pets in the apartment.” She reached in and tentatively scratched behind the ears that looked far too large for the tiny heads.

  “It occurred to me that this place had no furry little friends, and what’s a farm without a dog or cat, or two or three?” said Doc, rocking back on his heels and smiling.

  Vicky implored, “Jack, please tell me it’s all right with you? Look how adorable they are.”

  “Hey, no problem here. “I love kitty cats and dogs. Especially when they’re still little and innocent like this.”

  “What are their names?” She lifted the kittens and placed them on the bed covers. The yellow one promptly plopped himself down and curled up, nestling into the blanket, from where he watched Vicky. His sister climbed Vicky’s legs and torso, stopping to purr and sniff curiously, just below her chin.

  “They don’t have names yet. That’s your job.” At the sound of his voice, the male kitten pricked his ears and stood. Bouncing, as though his little legs were on springs, he made his way to the edge of the bed and looked up hopefully at Jack.

  Doc looked satisfied with his good deed. “Amazing, isn’t it, how the male gravitates to Jack, while the female kitten goes right to Vicky?” Purring, the gray cat curled into a neat ball and settled between Vicky’s breasts. “I’ll have to get to know them a bit before naming them,” she said.

  Elvira glanced around the bedroom. “Vicky, this is a lovely room. You’ve decorated it beautifully, and there’s such a wonderful view from this window. Oh my, did you know, you can see right into Jacks apartment from here!”

  “Really?” Vicky turned to him, rolling her eyes.

  He squirmed under her gaze and quickly changed the subject. “Hey, anyone hungry?”

  “I’m going right down and fix you something to eat and refill your coffee cup. What would you like?” asked Elvira.

  “Oh I don’t know. Anything is fine, but I definitely want a piece of your cake. Thanks.” Vicky massaged the little fur ball on her chest, which generated a purr much louder than any of them would have thought possible.

  Descending to the kitchen once more. He found Elvira already well on her way with the construction of a ham, cheese, and fried egg sandwich for Victoria.

  “Mrs. Sweeney, I would be forever in your debt if you fixed me one of those, and I want a big piece of your crumb cake.”

  “Call me Elvira. I’ve an idea we’ll be seeing a good deal of one another, after all we are neighbors.”

  “Sure,” replied Jack.

  “Just let me get Vicky taken care of. Would you take this up to her?” Elvira nodded toward Vicky’s tray as she deftly began assembling more sandwiches for Jack. “Then we’ll sit and have a little breakfast and chat, shall we?”

  Taking the tray, he said, “I’m glad you’re here. You and Doc sure got her in a much better mood. There’s been an Arctic chill coming from that room.”

  Elvira laughed, “I’m glad we could help.”

  After delivering breakfast to Victoria, he hurried down to the kitchen where Elvira had arranged hot sandwiches and slices of cake on the table. “I’ll set the table,” he said, gathering plates, coffee mugs, and silverware.

  Never one to be shy, Jack filled his plate. “This is great!”

  Sipping her coffee Elvira remarked, “I see that you’ve spruced up the fruit stand. It looks very sharp. Are you and Vicky going into business?”

  “Yes, we talked about it and we agreed it’s a good idea. With the new interest in buying local produce, we thought the area could support it. You need more than one outlet for a farm’s produce and with a little extra effort; we rake in a little more money. My Uncle got ornery and tired of dealing with people so he stopped doing it several years back.”

  “I see," said Elvira nodding. "Where were you living before coming here?”

  Working enthusiastically at a mouthful of breakfast, he said, “My dad is Uncle Charley’s younger brother, but they didn’t get along that well. No surprise there. We lived out near the Finger Lakes. I was only here once or twice when I was a kid.”

  She nodded again, sipping coffee. “How was it you started working here for Charley?”

  “Well, after high school I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Thought of going into the service, toyed with the idea of college, but I couldn’t make up my mind on a career. Mom and Dad were becoming pretty disgusted with my aimless existence. Guess I wasted a couple of years, just bumming around, attending the community college part-time.” He reached for another slice of cake. “This is so good. Nutmeg?”

  “Yes, plenty of freshly ground nutmeg.” Smiling at him, Elvira rose and reached for the coffee pot, filling Jacks empty cup.

  “When Dad learned that Uncle Charley was looking for a hired hand, he figured that I’d nothing better to do, so I agreed and came on out. He put me to work. The idea was to just help him for the summer. Dad thought that some hard work on the farm would send me right back home begging to go back to college. I realized pretty quick that this farming business was in my blood and I asked Uncle Charley if I could continue a while.”

  “So farming appealed to you right away.”

  “That’s right. He let me finish off that space over the garage and move in there. Made some friends here and settled in to a routine. I suppose when he promised me future ownership of the farm, it was a pretty juicy carrot he dangled in front of me. The rest is history. Stupid of me wasn’t it.”

  She smiled, put down her cup and reached across the table to squeeze his hand. Sighing deeply she said, “You certainly weren’t the first person to be hoodwinked by Charley Conner. He was a silver-tongued devil all right. John always said that he could probably sell ice to the Eskimos if he put his mind to it. He apparently snookered Victoria’s grandmother into marriage, a marriage that turned out to be a terrible mistake. Most of us, I suppose, are a little gullible and trusting. What’s done is done now, and there’s no use in looking backward. If you’ll pardon my saying so Jack, I believe that you could still have a future here.”

  He eyed Elvira warily. What exactly did she mean by that? He was silent for a long moment, steadily plowing through his breakfast. He put down his fork and drank his coffee before speaking. “What do you mean future?”

  “I hope it doesn’t seem like I’m prying into your business Jack, but Vicky can’t manage this place without an experienced man like yourself. Of course, she might marry someone that is capable of taking care of the orchards and what not. Victoria is a wonderful young woman. She’s attractive, talented, and from what I understand is even a pretty good cook. Too many young girls today haven’t even the foggiest idea how to boil an egg. Yes, Victoria will be a good catch for some young man.”

  He didn’t like the turn this conversation was taking. Victoria is a nice girl and all, but no way am I getting married. That's right, isn't it? No marriage for me, not now, but when? The unanswered question remained in his mind, leaden and immovable. Realizing that he'd been staring into space, fork in hand, he turned back to Elvira. “Right now I’m not sure what to do. I like Victoria. She needs me here to run the farm and I want to do all I can; but I have a knack for annoying her.”

  Elvira smiled at him indulgently.

  Doc walked in and interrupted them. “Vicky is doing just fine. I told her to take it easy for the next few days, but I do believe I can release the patient from further confinement and bed rest. She’s going to come down in a minute and will bring little Two and Three. Now, please pass me a plate and we’ll see if that crumb cake tastes as good as it looks.”

  Grateful for Doc’s timely entrance, he was glad to put an end to this discussion of a future between Victoria and himself. His relief was short lived. After proclaiming the crumb cake the best he’d ever eaten, Doc said, “You know Jack, Victoria will make a wonderful wife someday. She is really a very nice young lady. The men in this town have notic
ed and someone will snap her up soon.”

  “Jack and I were discussing that very thing. Funny you should mention it,” said Elvira.

  He looked down at his plate, and was dismayed to see nothing there but a scattering of crumbs. There was no escaping the issue by cramming his mouth full of cake.

  “Anyone like more coffee?” He jumped up abruptly, pushing back his chair so it clattered against the wall. Brandishing the pot, he topped off all their mugs. “Could I have another piece of that wonderful cake?” Lifting his coffee mug, he grabbed a large piece of cake and backed quickly through the screen door with his hands full, calling out, “I’ve got to get to work. This place can’t just run itself. Doc, Elvira, thanks for the cake, and thanks for the kittens. I think that was just the thing for Victoria.” Turning he was crossing the yard before they had a chance to respond.

  He sped toward his apartment, eager to get away. Despite what Doc and Elvira think, everyone else in town will assume I’m only trying to get my hands on the farm, especially if Fred manages to win the Van Winkle case. Victoria is vulnerable and I need to protect her, but that’s all.

  Doc looked at his wife, brows raised. “What in tarnation was that boy talking about? It almost seemed as though he was frightened by something we said. You know, he ought to ask Vicky out on a date or something before someone else gets the idea. Take her out for dinner and a movie. Can’t imagine why the young idiot hasn’t done so before now.”

  “He’ll figure it out in time. Jack’s a smart young man,” she said confidently.

  “Well when he does you can explain to me why it took him so long. Young people today mystify me. They’re not at all like we were, Dear.” Doc said grinning at her and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he cut himself another slice of cake. He enjoyed watching Elvira blush as much as he enjoyed her coffee cake.

  * * *

  The weather grew increasingly hot and sticky in the Hudson Valley as June melted away into July. In the orchards of the Willet Farm, tiny apples appeared on trees and in ploughed fields squash and cucumber vines snaked over the warm damp earth, every day growing longer. As Jack predicted, the corn stalks were “knee high by the fourth of July.”

  An oscillating fan was perched on the bookshelf behind Vicky blowing warm air back and forth around the room. Late morning, the day was already oppressively hot as she sat contemplating the screen of her laptop. She tipped back in her office chair, bare toes on the desktop, wearing a lightweight strapless sundress, her hair curling in the humidity. She was trying with an economy of movement, not to perspire and ruin her makeup.

  All morning, she’d stared at the last paragraphs she’d written the day before, unable to go any further. Today she hadn’t written a single word. This didn’t often happen, but for whatever reason, she was stuck, out of new ideas. She wasn’t overly bothered by this, because she knew from experience that the lassitude would last for a day or two only. Perhaps it’s just the unusually hot humid weather.

  Startled by a loud rapping from the porch, she sat up and quickly closed the “Caribbean Fire” file on the computer and went to the door. Jack’s grinning face was on the other side of the screen. “Oh. Hi, Jack,” she said stepping back to let him in. “Come on in.”

  He pushed through the door and stood confidently before her in the kitchen.

  “Does it always get this hot up here in July?” she asked, pushing her hair off her forehead.

  “It’s the Fourth of July, and it’s supposed to be hot,” he said smiling. “You’re right though, this is a little unusual, but it’ll pass in a day or two after a good rainstorm.”

  Her auburn hair hung in loose curls over her bare shoulders. She noticed that his gaze was drawn to where the little red sundress ended well above her knees. It was tied with a blue and white sash at her trim waist.

  Jack cleared his throat suddenly sounding uncomfortable. “I’m going to town for the celebration and as long as I’m going, I thought you’d like to ride along. You’re wearing the proper colors I see. It’s mandatory everyone wear red, white, and blue.”

  She noticed that he was wearing blue shorts and a red baseball cap. His well-developed arms and chest stretched a white t-shirt to its limits. Eyeing him, she fought down an urge to touch the arms and chest, and lightly press her lips onto his. For a month, Jack had kept his distance. He’d waved from the barn or the yard, or on his way down the drive. On occasion, he’d stop the truck, smile for a moment, then just stare, hand still suspended out the window. She wasn’t sure whether she liked this new aloof Jack Conner, feeling neglected, casually cast off after their one-night-stand.

  Then of course, I do have Joe Vandersmoot to think about. Very attractive, he’s tall, as tall as Jack is, with wavy blond hair and smiling blue eyes. He’d grown increasingly attentive, coming out frequently to show her what and where to plant in the flowerbeds.

  The kittens came thundering into the kitchen, curious to see what the commotion was all about. They were now in that awkward coltish faze, between kitten and cat. Slipping and sliding to a halt on the ancient gray linoleum, they looked up at Jack and Vicky, purring.

  “Oh Jack, I almost forgot to tell you. I finally gave them names the other day.” She bent and scooped up the gray and white female, scratching her behind the ears.

  Jack couldn’t resist the eager wide-eyed little Tom and picked him up. “So they’re no longer just Two and Three?”

  “Let me explain. The other day, this one was sitting on the windowsill in my bedroom, just as the sun was coming up. It was a beautiful sunrise, the light coming in through the window. She was looking down at her brother with the sun behind her, and he looked like he wanted to be up there with her. Maybe he wasn’t sure he could make the long jump without falling back on his little butt. It came to me then, the line from Shakespeare. ‘What light from yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.’ It’s when Romeo’s looking up at her on the balcony as the sun rises, remember? So I decided to call them Romeo and Juliet. What do you think?”

  “Hmm, I guess those names are as good as any. Okay Romeo, here you go.” He put down the orange cat and nudged him on his way. Juliet jumped from Victoria’s arms and the two of them dashed back into the living room, following an agenda known only to them.

  “By celebration I guess you mean the parade, fireworks and all that?” she said hesitantly toying with the sash at her waist. Looking away her gaze followed the disappearing gray and orange tails.

  “Victoria, it’s the fourth of July! Pippen’s Grove does it up right. There’s food and drink, and besides the parade, a carnival midway with games for the kids, and later of course, a fairly impressive fireworks display for a small town. You’re coming into town with me and we’ll make a day of it. Go get ready, put something, maybe a little something more on." Nervously, he glanced down again at her bare legs, revealed by the short dress. "I’ll wait. It’ll be almost like a date. I’m taking you out for a night on the town and fireworks. What do you say?”

  She smiled gleefully and laughed at his awkward little speech. She felt sorry for him, and just a little guilty. Brushing her hair from her forehead, she resisted the temptation to reach out and touch those bulging muscles beneath his shirt once more. Surprisingly, even though he’d ignored her for so long, the thought of spending all day and evening with Jack was tempting. “I’m sorry you didn’t ask me sooner Jack, but I really can’t.”

  “What do you mean you can’t? Why not? Everybody goes into the Grove on the Fourth. I’m not going to let you stay out here all alone.”

  He was interrupted by the sound of tires crunching the gravel outside. Turning he saw a grinning Joe Vandersmoot climbing down from his truck cab. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Joe asked me last week to go with him to the July fourth celebration. He’s been so nice, helping me with Nanna’s flowerbeds. It does sound like fun.”

  Vandersmoot was rapping on the back door. When she opened the door, Joe stared at
her. “Vicky, you look great. Doesn’t she look gorgeous, Jack?”

  At a loss for words, Jack stood there, bewildered. What just happened? Then Joe was there clapping him on the shoulder.

  “Hey, Jack. Happy July Fourth.” He grinned at his friend. “You’re going into town aren’t you? Taking anyone this year?”

  Victoria smiled at him. He was still unable to speak.

  “Well I guess we’ll see you in town. Wish it wasn’t so darned hot, but I’m sure this will be fun. Maybe it’ll cool off some this evening. I’ve got a big blanket in the truck so we can lie down in the dark and watch the fireworks in comfort.”

  “That sounds wonderful," said Victoria. "I haven’t seen fireworks in years. Bye, Jack.” Vicky slipped on her sandals and went out the door with Joe. Horrified, he watched her short red dress hike to the top of her thighs as Joe helped her climb into his truck. The receding sound of their voices and soft laughter drifted away as he watched them leave.

  He was left standing motionless in the quiet kitchen, still wondering what had happened. Victoria and my friend Joe. Together. I’m an idiot. Why did I assume that no one else would be interested in her? She’s beautiful. More than beautiful, in that sexy little sundress, but I let him be the one to tell her she was gorgeous. Why am I so stupid?

  His thoughts were interrupted by Romeo and Juliet purring and sympathetically polishing his ankles. He sighed, got a mug from the cabinet, and filled it from the half-full pot. He sipped slowly. The coffee was stone cold and bitter.

  Chapter 18

  From her vantage point behind the dune, Gwendolyn anxiously watched Captain Jack engaged in an animated discussion with a strange man. Who could he be? He doesn’t appear to be a pirate; he’s not like the others. This gentleman was tall and well dressed in a blue frock coat belted at his waist with a broad sash. As he spoke, his wavy blond hair was whipped about by the sea breeze. The conversation grew more spirited until the dark eyed Captain threw back his head and laughed aloud.