The Bold Venture (The Cherished Memories Book 2)

by Linda Ellen

  Now, he sat on his mat, staring at the peeling paint on the floor and mentally preparing himself to face his wife the next day. He hoped, and prayed, that Fleet had gotten the message to Alec…and he hoped that Alec could get hold of the money for his bail. What a mess. What a beastly mess. As he sat there cursing himself for his stupidity, with nothing to do but listen to the murmured conversations of several men across the room and the occasional loud snore from two mats down, Vic’s resolve turned steely and he made the decision that this would be the last – the very last – night he would ever spend in jail. Louise was right, he should quit looking for a great paying job and take whatever he could get – even digging ditches – anything as long as he could hold his head up and be proud of an honest day’s labor. And if she were still talking to him when he got out, he’d tell her exactly that.

  It was a long, miserable, uncomfortable night – one of the longest in his life.

  *

  The next morning, being the good friend that he was, Alec took off work and pawned a few items, scraping together the fifty bucks to get his best friend out of jail.

  Four other men were released before Vic heard his name called. He rose up quickly from his reclined position on the mat, stomped into his shoes, and followed the jailer out the cell door and down the hall. He stood silently as the officer at the desk filled out some papers and retrieved a large envelope in which he had stored Vic’s personal affects. The man opened this and allowed the contents to spill out onto the counter, instructing Vic to check them over and sign a paper that everything was still there.

  He complied, and with a small sigh of relief, reached for the items that he had been loathe to relinquish – his wallet, his father’s lighter, his keys, his pocket knife, a folded, unused handkerchief, and eighty-three cents in change, including his lucky 1852 silver three-cent piece that had been part of the pub treasure all those years ago. He stared at that for a moment as the memory of the evening he’d found it flashed in his mind…the fun of the “treasure hunt” and the excitement he and Louise had shared, escaping down the street and around the corner as everyone had scattered. He had kept that particular coin because 1852 was the year his father had been born and in a small, odd way, the coin and the lighter made his father seem real and alive. Narrowing his eyes for a half second, he wondered what his father would have said if he could see Vic at that moment…

  Shrugging off the thought, he pocketed his possessions, signed the paper, and nodded his thanks to the man behind the desk before turning toward the door to the lobby – and freedom.

  As soon as an officer ushered him out the connecting door, Vic took three steps and stopped in his tracks. Expecting to only see the jovial face of his friend, he saw not only Alec, but also Louise’s concerned expression – and the carefully neutral countenance of his friend and mentor, Doc Latham. Doc’s here?? At that moment, Vic wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

  Drawing in a deep breath, he sheepishly ran a hand back through his tousled hair and walked forward, through the swinging gate, and into his wife’s welcoming arms. Closing his eyes for a moment in sheer pleasure and gratitude for her affection, he opened them to meet first Alec’s cheery gaze, and then Doc’s still calm demeanor. His stomach roiled with shame.

  Finally, he drew back, gave Louise a quick kiss, and mumbled, “Let’s get outta here. This place gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

  The four filed out onto the sidewalk, and Vic had never been so glad to see sunshine and breathe fresh air in his entire life. He filled his lungs with it, and then self-consciously stuck his hands in his pockets and met each pair of eyes, ending with Doc.

  “Doc…I know you’re disappointed in me…I’d hoped you’d never find out, and that I could find something else before…” he stopped, his words feeling ineffectual, even to himself.

  Doc eyed him, pressed his lips together, and sighed softly. Vic had never seen his boisterous mentor so quiet and serious. It made his heart rate speed up even more as he braced himself for the inevitable explosion.

  “Vic, you’re a grown man and can make your own decisions…” Doc began, standing straight, one hand gripping his Bible and pressing it against his ribs. “And me being down here at just the right time to find your wife and your best friend waiting for you to be released, by the way, was a coincidence – or perhaps Divine providence, as I had really come down to visit the nephew of one of my parishioners. But son…I’m going to speak to you now as a father figure – as I’m sure your own father would have if he were still on this earth.”

  He paused for affect, and Vic swallowed uncomfortably and nodded for Doc to continue, knowing that whatever Doc felt like dishing out, he had it coming. “Yes, I’m disappointed in you – for becoming involved in an illegal activity and taking such chances. You were lucky that things didn’t get out of hand when the authorities brought the law down on that operation. And, you still must face the judge in court…” He stopped again, seeing the true repentance and remorse on Vic’s face. “Son, this doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I’m still your friend and I still care…” he glanced aside to acknowledge Louise and Alec. “As do your wife and your best pal. But, I hope this has taught you a lesson. What you did when you became involved in that operation was take a carrot dangled by the evil one, instead of waiting for something good that the Lord had in store, no matter how long the wait. The dangled carrot is always the wrong choice…as I’m sure you already know,” he added, his eyes finally containing that spark of humor that had been missing.

  “Yes, sir, I truly do,” Vic vowed, slipping his arm around a still silent Louise as she leaned against his side. “I hated everything about it…except for the money,” he admitted ruefully. “And I’m sorry I ever did it,” he added, looking down into Louise’s eyes, and over at a surprisingly silent Alec, who had uncharacteristically offered no wisecracks.

  Meeting Doc’s eyes again, Vic declared, “From now on, I’ll dig ditches or anything else, but I won’t take a carrot like that again. Ever. I swear it.”

  Doc tipped back his head to let go his friendly, infectious laugh and raised one hand to clap Vic on the back.

  “I’m glad to hear it, son. Now, if you were a small boy, I’d make you memorize ten Bible verses on the evils of dabbling in the affairs of the wicked,” he chuckled, “But instead, I’ll be expecting to see you for at least six months of uninterrupted Sunday services.”

  At that, Louise laughed and tightened her grip around her husband’s ribs. “Oh, I’ll make sure of that, you can bet on it.” All four immediately laughed at her unintended pun.

  With that, Doc said his goodbyes and re-entered the jail to perform his original clergy visit.

  Vic watched him go, and then turned back to the other two.

  Alec grinned at him and gave him a teasing punch to the arm, just like in their younger years. “I hope you know I had to pawn four things to get enough money to pay your ransom. You owe me, bucko. Big time.”

  “You’ll get it back, with interest,” Vic vowed, meaning every word. He reached up and gripped Alec’s shoulder firmly, his friend returning the gesture as their eyes met in silent communication – namely that Vic would do the same for Alec if the shoe were on the other foot. That was a given. Vic had never been more grateful to have a friend he could count on than in that moment.

  Then, glancing down to meet Louise’s eyes again, he mumbled, “Let’s go home. I feel dirty…I wanna take a bath and wash the stench of this place off me – for good.”

  With Alec’s customary chuckle floating on the warm breeze, they piled into the front seat of his car. Alec dropped them off at Vic’s Buick, still parked down the street from Willie’s, and then he went on to work.

  As Vic and Louise began the drive home, a thought occurred to Vic and he turned his head to look at her. “Your mom knows?”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I had to tell her why you weren’t home…”

  He nodded, ment
ally preparing himself for another dressing down. Well…it’ll be no more than I deserve.

  *

  As he feared, Lilly did light into him the minute they walked in the door.

  “Well, I hope you’re proud of yourself,” she had fumed, pausing in the act of carrying a basket of clothes in from the back yard. “Both of you,” she added, shooting an angry look at Louise, who flinched in response.

  “No, I ain’t proud,” Vic mumbled, watching as Louise put Tommy down on the floor, after having picked him up for a hug, and usher him into the living room to play.

  Lilly stood, staring at them both, a mixture of anger and hurt in her eyes. “You’ve been lying to me. Both of you. I thought you were selling insurance!”

  Vic sighed regrettably and closed his eyes for a moment, hating the feeling of being raked across the carpet and dressed down as if he were still a little boy in short pants. It especially hurt because Lilly had never acted like she truly liked him, and he’d never understood that. Many times, he had caught her staring at him, and he’d wondered what had been going through her mind.

  “Mary Louise, I can’t believe you condoned this. I can’t believe you married him knowing he was involved in an illegal activity. I’m ashamed of both of you! What would the neighbors think? And your landlord? She could toss you out on the sidewalk and there you’d be, you and my grandson, with no place to go! Did you think of that?”

  Feeling quite cowed, Louise nevertheless responded, “Yes, it was wrong for Vic to work at a bookie joint…but it doesn’t make sense that it’s illegal since he was only taking bets on horse races, just like he did at the window at Churchill Downs…”

  “That’s beside the point. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that it is illegal and your husband was involved! What if this gets in the papers? I won’t be able to hold my head up or go out in public! I’ll be a laughing stock…” she railed, but Vic held up a hand to interrupt her tirade.

  “We got a copy of the paper. It’s just a paragraph buried in the back and although names were mentioned in the article, they got mine wrong. They listed me as Victor Mattson. Not sure how that happened…” At least that was one good thing.

  Then Vic dropped down at the kitchen table, his head resting in his hands. He was exhausted, and he didn’t think he could sink much lower.

  Louise drew near against her husband’s side and placed one hand lovingly on the back of his neck. She was thinking his days as a bookie had come to a crashing end, just as she had hoped and prayed they wouldn’t. She’d hoped he could find another job and just quietly leave the other in the past. But at that moment, against her mother’s virulent attack, she felt a protectiveness rise up inside her, as she knew, in a small way, she was the reason he had become involved in the operation in the first place.

  As the tension crackled and silence filled the kitchen, Lilly seemed to slowly lose steam and her body relaxed a bit. Finally, she released a shuddering sigh and pulled out the chair adjacent to Vic.

  “I’m sorry,” Vic mumbled, not knowing what else to say. No excuses made – there were none that would hold water anyway.

  After a few minutes, Lilly murmured, “So what happens now? Will there be a trial? Oh, the scandal…” she added miserably.

  Vic remained as he was, head in hands, and murmured, “I don’t think so. They said I had to be back downtown to see the judge next Monday.”

  Another minute went by, and Lilly stood, pushed her chair under the table, and cleared her throat. She seemed to be a bit contrite, as if she thought she might have come down too hard on him. But of course, she’d never admit that out loud.

  Finally, she announced softly, “Well, I’m going on back home. I suggest you decide what your next course of action will be. And Louise – you’d better not do anything to lose your job,” she added, as if she were talking to two totally irresponsible teenagers.

  With that, she gathered her purse and let herself out the front door.

  Hearing the door shut behind his mother-in-law, Vic wearily raised his head and met his wife’s eyes.

  “You gonna bawl me out, too?” he asked with a self-deprecating smirk.

  Louise smiled softly at him, so glad that he was home and safe. She had missed him terribly the night before, fear of the unknown and worry for her husband resulting in a sleepless night. Ruffling his hair, she murmured, “I was going to…but I think you’ve been raked over enough coals already.” Then, with a twinkle in her eyes, she added, “I thought you said you wanted to take a bath.”

  Relief flooded Vic’s whole body and he snaked an arm around his wife’s waist, hugging her tighter against his side as he nuzzled his face against her soft bosom.

  “I do. Know anybody who might wanna scrub my back?”

  Her soft chuckle warmed him and eased a bit more of the tension he’d been under since the knock on the door the day before. “I think that could be arranged,” she teased.

  Then stepping back, she took his hand and tugged him to his feet, hauling him playfully toward the bathroom. For the first time in twenty-four hours, Vic grinned in anticipation of something pleasant…extremely pleasant.

  And he wasn’t disappointed.

  ‡

  CHAPTER 22

  Good News…And Bad News

  Thankfully for Vic, the judge, perhaps feeling magnanimous since it was his first offense, ruled that he would merely be put on probation for two years. However, it was with the stipulation that if he were ever arrested for bookmaking again, he would without doubt face the stiffest penalty the law would allow. Vic, truthfully, assured the judge that he would never see him in his court again.

  The following day, out front of the apartment, tinkering under the hood of his car, Vic looked up with a smile as Doc’s big hunter green Lincoln convertible, complete with wide white walls and fender skirts, pulled up behind his Coupe. Tommy screeched his tricycle to a stop and scrambled off to wrap his arms around the tall minister’s legs in a quick hug of greeting before clambering back and speeding off down the sidewalk again.

  “Hey Doc,” Vic greeted, wiping his hands on a rag and reaching with his right to shake Doc’s hand. “Thanks again for goin’ with me to court yesterday.”

  Doc waved his hand as if it was of no consequence. “You’re welcome.” Then peering under the hood, he asked, “She break down?”

  Vic let out a soft chuckle. “Nah, just findin’ somethin’ to do…it’s kind of frosty inside right now,” he added, tossing a look up at the apartment just as Lilly came out the door, dust mop in hand, and began to give it a firm shaking as she trained her eyes on the two men at the curb. She acknowledged the minister with a tight-lipped nod.

  “Ahh,” Doc returned understandingly as he tipped his hat to Lilly. “Well, actually I came with some news that might help,” he added, reaching into a pocket for a business card, which he handed to Vic.

  “What’s this?” Vic asked as he read the card, which had a man’s name above the words National Life Insurance Company.

  “I met him at the barber shop a few minutes ago. He mentioned they have a job opening, and I put in a good word for you.”

  Vic grinned, seeing the irony. “Life insurance? But…” he hesitated. “I don’t have any experience…”

  Doc waved a hand again. “Don’t worry, he said they’ll train you in the job. You have an appointment for an interview at eight o’clock in the morning. Wear your best clothes.” Doc added with a chuckle. Then with a grin, he bent to ruffle Tommy’s hair as he passed by, shook Vic’s hand again, and gave a wave to Lilly before climbing in his car and driving on, tooting his horn in a merry rhythm as he passed.

  Vic clutched the card and turned to gaze up at his mother-in-law as she finally finished shaking out the mop and turned to go back inside.

  Maybe this will be my big break, my Bold Venture. But…an insurance man? Like those high-falutin’ insurance executives in the Heyburn Building, with their topcoats and briefcases? He’d squired them around in
his cab on many occasions, listening to them talk about the business and not understanding much of anything they said – and he truly wondered if he had what it took to do that kind of work.

  Glancing at his watch, he saw it was approaching lunchtime and closing the hood of his car, he bent down just in time to scoop Tommy off of his tricycle on another pass.

  “Come on, little Chief, it’s time to eat lunch,” he murmured, tossing the giggling toddler over one shoulder and grabbing the small wheeled vehicle with the other hand.

  Whistling as he made his way up the sidewalk, he couldn’t wait to tell Louise the good news when she came home that afternoon.

  *

  August 1942

  Vic gave the woman a half-hearted smile and tipped his hat as she shut the door – after telling him that she needed a little more time to pay her monthly life insurance premium. That was the fourth one that day, out of six customers he had visited.

  After three long months on the job – that of door-to-door life insurance premium collector – he wasn’t bringing home much money on his paydays, since he was paid commission on the funds he actually collected for the company. If the customer didn’t pay, he didn’t get paid. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that this wasn’t his big break, but yet another dead end job. Sometimes he felt frustration rise, when he could tell the way the customer began hemming and hawing, that they were going to be a debit rather than a credit, but then his heart always softened toward them, because he knew exactly what it was like to simply not have the money to pay a bill. These people had to keep a roof over their heads and food in their family’s bellies – and that was more important than an insurance premium.

  And this was gonna be my Bold Venture, he smirked in disgust as he trudged to his car and climbed in, loosening his tie and removing his jacket in the late August heat.

  Yeah right. Some big career.

  But he was determined to stick with it and ride it out, hoping that the slump would end and his customers would rebound and begin to make regular payments. It was just rough to go home at the end of each day and face Louise, watching as she tried to hide the disappointment that they would have another week of just getting by. He didn’t even want to think about the needs he couldn’t meet, like Tommy needed new shoes – again. The child was outgrowing them at a record-breaking pace. Not to mention clothes – but Lilly helped by adding strips to the bottom of Tommy’s little pants or in the seams of his shirts to help him get a few more weeks of wear from them. Thinking of that, Vic fumed that they sure could use a little support from the boy’s father, but the authorities couldn’t find hide nor hair of the man. It was as if he had skipped the country – and Tommy’s grandparents didn’t seem to be of a mind to help.