Keeping Victoria's Secret (27 page)

She invited them both in. “Why don't you stay
for lunch? I’ve made some iced tea, chicken salad, and there’s a
ton of Jack’s veggies.”

“That’d be great,” said Diane. “Let me give
you a hand.”

“You two go on ahead,” Joe called. “I’m going
to find Jack and thank him again for being so thoughtful, bringing
you home on the Fourth.”

“Hey, tell him to come have lunch with us,”
Vicky called over her shoulder.

“Sure.” After searching in the barn and the
apartment over the garage, Joe finally discovered him riding his
tractor out of the fields, hauling a loaded cart. Pulling into the
barn, Jack cut the engine and climbed down.

“Joe! Good to see you. I’ve been working my
ass off all morning. Do you think this is enough to get things
started?” he said proudly, nodding towards the baskets and boxes of
freshly picked produce ready for the opening of his roadside
stand.

“Yeah, looks good. You look like you need a
break and I’d like a beer if you’ve got one,” said Joe.

“I’m pretty hot and thirsty myself,” he said.
“Come on up.”

Once upstairs Jack tossed a beer to his
friend. Popping the top of his own, he took a long drink and
relaxed in his chair.

As soon as they were settled, Joe got to the
point. “You know, Jack that was a low down thing you did on the
Fourth of July. When the storm started I gathered up all the
blankets and stuff, looked around, and what? No Vicky anywhere.
Figured right away, you’d dragged her off. We’ve been friends a
long time Jack, but that was a crappy thing to do.”

“You’re right Joe." He sighed and drank
again. "I was pissed off when she went to town with you. I had no
idea you were interested in her. Guess you’re still interested,
huh?”

“You bet I am, and I’m not the only one.
There’s a few other guys asking about her, kind of sniffing around.
Crazy Van Wart for one has got his eye on her.”

“I’m going to be up front with you. When
Victoria first showed up here and told me this was her place; I
didn’t like her one bit. Here she just walks in and pulls the farm
out from under me, after all my hard work. Yeah, I was good and mad
and I blamed her. That wasn’t right. The only one to blame was
Uncle Charley, but he was six feet under so I couldn’t take it out
on him, could I? In any case, I see things differently now.”

“Differently how?” asked Joe.

Frowning at his empty can, as though it had
offended him in some way, Jack replied, “I think I’m in love with
her.”

“You think? You’re not sure? What about
Vicky? Does she feel the same way about you?”

Jack shook his head. “I’m afraid she doesn’t
like me much, but I’m going to change her mind on that. Are you
going to continue dating her?”

“You bet I am.” Joe stood up and finished his
beer. “Sorry Jack. You said you weren’t interested in her. I
couldn’t understand that myself. You have to admit Vicky is one hot
woman, and she has a certain something beneath that hot exterior.
It’s kind of a timid innocence. I don't know. I can’t quite put my
finger on it, but it’s very enticing."

“I guess that means you’re my competition,
Joe. Is that it?”

“You got it.” Joe tossed his empty can into
the trash. Turning to Jack he said, “I was wondering, what kind of
work she does? I asked, but she’s never really said.”

“Oh, I’m not sure; she writes stuff for some
company. Don’t really know, but it’s probably some dry dull
technical stuff.” He looked away, trying not to grin.

“Sounds like a boring job,” Joe remarked.
“I’m out of here. Vicky’s fixing me some lunch over at the house.”
He shot Jack a sly grin as he left.

Going to the window Jack watched his friend
cross the drive and climb up the back steps. “Damn.” He dreaded the
thought of being at odds with Joe over Victoria. Never one to give
up he decided, "I guess I’ll go get some lunch myself."

It didn’t take long to jump in the shower and
pull on some clean clothes. When he reached the screen door of the
farmhouse, he hammered on it and called out. “Is there anything
left or did you guys eat it all?”

Diane looked up from the table and said,
“Jack, I thought you weren’t hungry? Joe said...,”

“Yeah? What did Joe tell you?”

Vicky brought him a plate of sandwiches and
salad she had set aside for him. “Here Jack, I thought you’d change
your mind. Sit down and I’ll pour you some iced tea.”

“Why thank you Victoria! That’s real nice.”
He shot Joe a smirk as he planted himself in the seat next to
Vicky.

Scowling, Joe bit fiercely into a thick
sandwich, forcing chicken salad out the back end onto his lap.

The next morning Jack called Fred. “I was
just checking in to see if there’s any news for us on Van Winkle’s
legal case.”

“No nothing for certain, but I expect to hear
very shortly from the lawyer in Albany,” said Fred. “I sent all the
new pertinent information to him, and I promise to let you and
Vicky know immediately when I hear back.”

There was nothing he could do to speed up the
process, so Jack spent the better part of Monday and Tuesday
picking vegetables, and on Tuesday afternoon trucked everything
down to the roadside stand and opened up.

It wasn’t long before people began to stop
and soon he was doing a brisk business. Some of his customers were
friends and neighbors, but others were total strangers. Jack found
that he enjoyed the interaction and the hours he spent there flew
by quickly. In conversation with customers, busily filling bags
with produce, he failed to notice Jonathan Van Winkle’s truck
slowing as it passed by on the other side of the road.

Beady little eyes scowled at the parked cars
and crowd of people buying their vegetables. Hearing Jack’s
laughter, he spat angrily out his open window. I’ll put a stop to
his little business. What the hell is holding up them lawyers
anyway? Should’ve been settled by now. Maybe I’ll just do some
settling myself, in the meantime.

The sun was winking its last rays over the
mountains to the west, when Jack knocked on Victoria’s back door.
She came out from her office, smiling. “How was the first day?” she
asked. “Everything go okay?”

“Great. A lot of people told me how happy
they were that I was open. You wouldn’t by any chance have a cold
drink in that fridge?” he asked, following her into the
kitchen.

“I just might,” she said, opening the
refrigerator door and after sliding various items around, emerged
with a pitcher of tea.

Jack sighed as she handed him a glass.

“Have a seat and tell me all about it. Every
now and then I peeked out and there were always at least a couple
of cars parked.” She poured ice tea for herself and came to sit at
the table with Jack.

“The cash box was full by closing time. Not
bad for an afternoon’s work. Well, figuring all the time I spent
picking, and then the plowing in the spring, planting. I guess it
was more like a hundred hours. No matter, this was just the first
day; it will make all the difference to us financially.”

She shook her head. “No Jack, it isn’t my
money, it’s yours. Remember the agreement. I pay taxes, insurance,
and all the household expenses and I get to live in this house. You
do all the heavy lifting work out there, and you keep the money
from the produce and the apples,” she said, gesturing with one hand
in the direction of the orchards.

He nodded, “Right. Of course, we’ve got to
stick to the agreement.”

Victoria smiled sweetly, and his heart
melted. At that moment the thought of spending his life with her,
raising children here on her family’s farm seemed so right. What
would it be like, married to a famous author? Even the book club
girls knew who Tori Baxter was. What if all the guys knew that she
wrote that stuff? Should I chance asking her how she feels about
Joe? Quickly he decided against that. It’s her business if she
wants to see Joe.

I don’t get it. We spent an incredible day
together having incredible sex, and then she wriggles out of my
arms the other night when I try to kiss her? What’s with that?

Victoria eyed Jack warily as he sat silently
across from her. What do I say if he calls me ‘Tori’ again? Why
doesn’t he just come right out and ask me about Tori Baxter? Is he
playing games with me? Maybe he doesn’t really know. The suspense
began to irritate her. That ‘Goodnight Tori’ could be just a slip.
No, he always calls me Victoria, never Vicky or anything else. He
figured it out that day of the book club meeting for sure. I was
fooling myself to think otherwise. Damn! Jack won’t hold this over
my head, will he? I can’t bring up the subject; I don’t know what
he’ll say.

Jack has a one-night-stand with me, decides
to pretend I’m not even alive for over a month, and then the other
night he tries to kiss me. What nerve. If he weren’t so damn good
looking and so nice, at least most times he’s nice, then it would
be easier to stay angry with him. Maybe I should have let him kiss
me? Hoping to hide her feelings, she took a long drink of her
tea.

Their private thoughts hung in the air,
filling the void between them.

Jack pushed back his chair, deposited his
empty glass in the sink, and started for the door. “I’ve got to get
cleaned up. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day. Thanks for the tea
Victoria.” He was out the back door and into the yard, before she
could react.

Vicky sat for a long time sipping cold tea,
wondering about Jack. How do I really feel about him? The ice in
her glass was long gone and the tea was room temperature when she
came finally to some conclusions. They scared her. She looked up to
see that it was dark outside, so she rose and turned on the
lights.

The next day business was again brisk at the
vegetable stand. Although Jack was busy picking every morning, he
still ran low on green beans and squash. I’ll have to get picking
again. The second planting should start producing soon. Maybe I’ll
put in another planting next week. There’s still time.

When he finally closed for the evening, Jack
made his way slowly up the drive and wearily mounted the steps to
his apartment. I really should have hired some high school kids to
help me out. After showering, he went to look for some junk food to
snack on, too tired to make the effort to fix real food.

When he opened the refrigerator, to his
surprise, there was a plate of sandwiches and a large wedge of
chocolate cake. “Oh wow! This is great.” Sliding these out, he saw
covered bowls of baked beans and potato salad.

A note taped to a lid read:

I thought you might be too tired and busy to
go to the store.

Congratulations on your success!

Vicky

Through the dark, he could see into the
lighted window of the farmhouse kitchen and the figure of Victoria
moving about. I wonder what she’s doing. Silently, he thanked her
for being so thoughtful, as he dug into his supper, eyeing the
house through his window.

The screen door opened a crack and the two
kittens slipped out. Romeo jumped from the steps and began pacing
back and forth in the soft turned earth in the flowerbed. When he
found just the right spot, he scratched and dug, and squatted, his
back to Juliet. She sat primly on the top step, pretending not to
watch.

“Romeo and Juliet,” said Jack laughing. He
went to his bookshelves and found his copy of Shakespeare. Relaxing
in his leather recliner, he found the play and began reading. When
he came to the scene in the Capulet’s orchard with the poor love
struck Romeo below professing his love to Juliet on her bower, he
smiled. A short while later he was sound asleep, the book open on
his lap.

Jack awoke with a start feeling a little
anxious. Man, I must have been having one hell of a bad dream, but
I don’t remember any part of it. Stretching his stiff muscles, he
got up and made his way through the darkened room to his big
king-sized bed. Shedding his clothes, he slipped between the sheets
and was asleep in less than a minute.

Once more, he woke with a start, feeling
restless. What’s wrong? Sitting up, he saw light flashing outside
his window. Another storm? Weather didn’t say anything about a
storm. He groped for the little clock on his bedside table. The
luminous dial told him it was a few minutes after two o’clock. Then
he heard a distant roaring sound like the approach of a freight
train. Rising he ran to the window over his kitchen sink and stared
out, amazed. “Oh, my God! What the hell?”

As fast as he could, he pulled on jeans and
shirt and raced down the steps and across the yard. He slowed
halfway down the drive to stare, and then continued on, gravel
biting into the soles of his bare feet. His roadside stand was
fully engulfed in flames. The bright yellow blaze licked skyward
casting eerie dancing shadows on the lawn and farmhouse. Wood smoke
hung in the humid summer air stinging his eyes. Rooted to the
ground, he stood and watched in consternation as it burned. He
heard a noise behind him over the roar of the flames.

“Jack,” came the frightened call from
Vicky.

He turned to see her standing on the porch in
her robe, one hand clutching the door, fear plainly etched on her
face. Slowly, he walked back and up the front steps.

“Jack, I’ve called nine-one-one. They’ll be
here in a minute.”

“It’s too late to save it now.”

“How could that happen?” she sobbed.

He took her hands and guided her to one of
the wicker chairs. Sitting down beside her, he held her hand in his
and watched the fire consume all his hard work.

“How could this happen? Did somebody throw a
cigarette butt out of a car window or something? What caused
it?”

His response came in a low angry growl, “No
Victoria. It didn’t happen that way, not this quickly. This was no
accident. Some bastard did this on purpose.”