Keeping Victoria's Secret (17 page)

Vicky felt as though she couldn’t breathe.
The reality of actually losing her new home overwhelmed her. She
wanted to cry, thinking of all she’d lost. My parents, then Nanna,
and now I’m losing my home! Nanna’s home, her things, the flower
beds.... Thoughts whirled in her mind. The only sounds in the room
were the gentle shuffling of paper and ticking of Fred’s wall
clock.

Clutching her copies of the documents, she
stared at a spot over Fred’s shoulder, without saying a word. Tears
welled up in her eyes and she brushed them away. When she could
finally take a deep breath, Vicky looked to Fred. “All right then,
what do we do now?”

The attorney leaned back in his high backed
leather chair, folded his hands in his lap, and began. “We’ll file
some appeals, things which will serve to delay. I need some time to
delve into this problem. Remember I have yet to state our case. I’m
still confused, as to the reason my father put the property in your
grandmother’s name. There’s a copy of the deed in your papers.
You’ll see I have no death certificate for Alexander yet, but the
military record shows him as missing and presumed dead. There’s no
date of death, but he was lost at sea, sometime in late 1944. I’ll
be doing my best to support your claim of ownership, but unless I
succeed, ultimately there’s nothing to stop Van Winkle. I’m going
to attempt to discover why my father apparently ignored a potential
inheritance of the property by Alexander’s wife. As I said, that
has me baffled. Would you like for me to go ahead and file the
paperwork?”

Miserably she shook her head. “No Fred, let’s
just get it over with and let Jonathan have it. I’ll arrange to
move back down to New Jersey. Why bother going through the motions
if I can’t win?”

“No! Absolutely not!” Jack shouted, as he
jumped up and began to pace back and forth.

Startled, the other two turned to look at
him, his face dark with anger.

“I told you both that I’m going to fight that
bastard Van Winkle to the bitter end. I want to go ahead with
whatever legal tricks or lawyer magic you can do Fred.”

“With all due respect, my friend, this
decision is Victoria’s alone. It’s up to her.” Turning to her, Fred
said, “If it’s the expense that concerns you, there will be no
charges. I feel that I owe it to you and to your family to unravel
this mess that was three generations in the making.”

The two younger people glared at one another
in silence. She shrugged and looked away. The clock on the wall
ticked steadily, oblivious to the tension in the room.

Jack turned back to Fred. “You’re the lawyer
here, but it seems to me, the farm was just as much mine when I
thought I inherited it from Uncle Charley. Then it was Victoria’s,
because her inheritance was valid, where mine wasn’t. Now her claim
to the property has gone down the tubes just like mine, so we’re
equal here. Don’t I have as much say in this as she does?”

Fred smiled wanly. “I suppose you make a
point. Vicky?” he asked.

“Okay. Go ahead and file the appeals. Do
whatever you have to do. I don’t really want to think about this
anymore. If it’ll make Jack happy, then just go on and do it. If
we’ve finished here, I’d like to go and get a bite to eat. Is there
some place nearby?”

“I imagine you’ll feel better after you’ve
had a little something to eat. The nearest place is right around
the corner, Paulding’s Rest,” he said. “It’s not only the closest
food, but the best in Pippen’s Grove. Good sandwiches, big salads,
and steaks. I recommend the onion rings. Well, I’d like to thank
you both for coming. I’m just sorry I didn’t have more encouraging
news.”

Fred stood and walked her to the door. “Now
don’t dwell on this. You go and enjoy yourself and I’ll do the
worrying for you. Don’t forget, if you have any questions,
Victoria, anything else I can do, don’t hesitate.”

She thanked him, gave both Jack and Fred one
last glance, turned and walked slowly out.

Jack looked at the attorney and shrugged.

Fred studied the younger man curiously for a
moment. “None of my business of course, but it seems as though you
and Victoria haven’t yet been able to put aside your animosity
toward one another. Still have bad feelings about the inheritance?
Now that’s rather a mute point, what with the Van Winkle suit.”

“Things were actually fine between us. More
than fine, then this morning.... Well, without going into any
detail, everything went all to hell. It’s my fault, but none of it
matters now.”

Jack’s breakfast was a distant memory. As
Vicky walked along the charming main street of town, the scent of
good cooking came to her on the breeze, causing her stomach to
growl. Opening the door into Paulding’s Rest, she lingered in the
entryway listening to laughter and the tinkling of glasses from
inside.

Wondering if she should seat herself or wait
for a hostess, she hesitated. Several lunchtime regulars were
seated at the bar to her left. To the right were half a dozen
booths, all of which seemed to be occupied. Her mind was numb from
her recent experience in Fred’s office. She stood for a moment,
unsure what to do.

“Vicky! Hey, Miss Vicky!”

She turned, surprised to hear someone calling
her name. It was a grinning Jimmy Smith waving and beckoning from
one of the booths.

“Over here. Come on and join us.”

She wasn’t in the mood to socialize and make
small talk with Jimmy or anyone else just now. Her intention was to
sit quietly anonymous in a corner and pick at a lonely lunch.
Unable to escape, she walked over listlessly.

Two other men sat with Jimmy. One she
recognized as Joe Vandersmoot from the nursery. When she reached
their table all three men stood, grinning broadly.

Jimmy was beaming proudly. “I’m a daddy, Miss
Vicky. We had our baby girl, late last night. She came a little
early. Penny and the baby are doing great! We haven’t named her
yet. Thought we had that all figured out, but changed our minds at
the last minute.”

The good news slowly penetrated her numbed
mind. Here was one good thing today, she thought smiling.

“Miss Vicky, you okay?”

“Sure Jim, I’m fine. That’s great news. I’m
so glad for you and Penny. Everybody healthy and doing well?”

“Yup, hey Vicky, these guys are helping me
celebrate. This is Joe Vandersmoot and John Van Wart.”

“Hello everyone. Mr. Vandersmoot, I remember
meeting you the other day at the nursery. Good to see you.”

“We were just having lunch. Want to join us?”
asked Jimmy

She looked helplessly about the room. All the
tables and booths in the popular tavern were occupied. “Sure. I
guess if your friends don’t mind.”

Joe and John insisted she join them. Smiling,
Joe slid out to allow Vicky to sit between them on the inside of
the U-shaped banquette with Jimmy and Van Wart on one side and
himself on the other. Soon they were making suggestions about what
to order from an extensive menu.

A smiling waitress came and quickly cleared
the table of plates and beer glasses.

When she returned to take Vicky’s order, Joe
requested another round of beer for all, and insisted that Vicky
accept a glass of wine. The celebratory mood was infectious and she
couldn’t help but be happy for Jimmy and his wife.

The other two men competed for her attention,
playfully arguing over which of them would treat Vicky to
lunch.

Joe announced, “She’s my date, so I’m
buying.”

“Oh no.” countered John. “You can have the
bar tab, I’ll take care of the lovely lady.”

They all laughed. When her wine arrived, she
took a sip and said, “This is very good. I don’t drink much wine,
but this is very nice.”

In a few minutes, her Caesar salad arrived
topped with a generous portion of grilled salmon. As she ate and
the others sipped their beer, Jimmy recounted once more the details
of Penny’s labor, the birth, and his sleepless night.

“Here,” Jimmy said, holding out his phone
with a picture of the newborn displayed. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She’s lovely! A beautiful baby Jim, “she
enthused as he thumbed through dozens more.

“Hello, Miss Buonadies,” said Vince
Cangelosi.

She looked up at him and winced, surprised to
see the policeman that had answered her nine-one-one call her first
day in Pippen’s Grove. This man had seen her at her worst. He was
congratulating Jimmy, slapping him on the back.

“Vicky’s helping us celebrate, Vince,” said
Jimmy.

“We’ve met.” His eyes twinkled with a knowing
smile. “Ma’am, Jack mentioned to me that Jonathan Van Winkle has
been bothering you. If he comes around again harassing you, just
let me know and I’ll put a stop to it.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Vicky smiled weakly. “And
I’ll try to limit my nine-one-one calls in the future.” About to
mention to the police officer Jonathan’s most recent visit, she
then thought better of it, not wanting to throw cold water on the
new father’s celebration.

Jimmy stood up and waved to the group. “Vince
is going to give me a ride back up to the hospital. Need to get
back and see Penny and our little girl. You boys entertain Vicky,
okay?”

“We’ll take good care of her. Don’t you
worry. The two friends were more than happy to keep the lady
company while she finished her lunch and told Jimmy to say hello to
Penny from them.

Officer Cangelosi leaned over and tapped one
of the empty beer glasses with a forefinger. “Wouldn’t want to have
to stop anyone on a DUI this afternoon,” he teased. Smiling at
Vicky he said, “It was nice meeting you again.”

She found herself sitting between two virtual
strangers and was a bit uncomfortable. Embarrassed, she picked at
the remains of her salad. Vandersmoot flagged down the waitress and
ordered beer and another glass of wine “for the lady”.

Feeling the need to make conversation, she
turned to Joe Vandersmoot. “I was going to come see you today.”

“Really?” he said leaning a little closer and
smiling into her eyes.

Flustered she shifted away. “That is, Jack
and I were going to ask your advice about plants. You see, I have
some old pictures of the farmhouse with my grandmother’s flowerbeds
in bloom. What I wanted to do was to try to recreate the gardens to
look like they did back then. Jack and I just thought you might be
able to identify the flowers and plantings in the pictures. Then
you could tell me what to buy.”

Her voice trailed off and she turned again to
the last scraps of salad, pushing them around on her plate. She
looked up, first to Van Wart, then back to Joe. They studied Vicky,
waiting for her to finish, sipping beer. Another glass of wine
appeared as if by magic and she lifted the glass and drank.

“It doesn’t matter now,” she announced.
“There’s no point in doing anything else to the property. You see,
it seems that someone else is the rightful owner, not me. So I
guess in a month or two, I’m not really sure how long these things
take; I’ll be moving back to Jersey. I was getting to like it here
in Pippen’s Grove. It’s such a nice little town, with so many nice
people. Jack’s been, well, I guess Jack’s been helpful. He’s just
furious about this business.” Closing her mouth firmly she scolded
herself. Why am I talking so much?

The silence at their booth was underscored by
the ambient noise of conversation and clattering crockery in the
tavern.

Van Wart spoke, “We’re aware of the Van
Winkle claim, Vicky. Jack told us about that. Word is all around
about it anyway. There was a certain curiosity about you when you
first arrived here. At first we all felt sorry for Jack, but
Charley Conners was a scoundrel. Jack shouldn’t have let himself be
fooled by that thief. We’ve all been trying to figure some way we
can stop Van Winkle, but short of shooting him, well I can’t think
of anything. Vince would never let us shoot anybody, so I guess
that’s out. I’m sorry this has ruined things for you.

It's so nice that these two guys, these
friends of Jack's cared what happened to her. She told them,
“You’re both so sweet.”

“Why don’t you stay up here?” asked John.
“You’ll find something to do here. There are lots of us eligible
bachelors to take you out in Pippen’s Grove, right Joe?”

Vandersmoot grinned thoughtfully at her.
“Listen, why not go ahead and plant things in those beds? Who
knows, but what something will happen to keep Van Winkle from
getting his hands on the farm. What’s his connection? He’s claiming
what exactly?”

She picked up her glass and stared into the
wine. She was relaxing and felt the need to talk with someone about
her predicament. “Apparently, Jonathan Van Winkle is the grandson
of Alexander Willet, my Grandmother’s brother. Alexander died
serving in World War II, but back here in Pippen’s Grove, his wife
gave birth to a son. I don’t think it was even very widely known
that Alexander married before going off to the war. A few years
later, she remarried a Van Winkle and he adopted her little boy,
Theodore. His son is Jonathan. Therefore, ownership of the farm
should have passed down to him. I guess no one knew, or everyone
overlooked the fact that legally the heir would be Alexander’s son.
So here we are. Both Jack and I were fooled into thinking we owned
it.” She sipped and leaned back. Then her eyes opened wide. “Oh my
god! Oh my god! That means I’m related to that awful man.”

“Hey, we won’t hold it against you,” said
John smiling at her. “Though no one likes or trusts that Van Winkle
clan. I remember his father who died about a year or so ago. He was
just as bad as Jonathan. Looked like him too.”

Joe added, “They’ve had that old cider mill
for years. I always thought they watered down the juice to cut
corners. The Dutch can be like that, stubborn, stingy, and funny
about their money. Hey, I can say that, being a Dutchman myself.
Understand?”