Keeping Victoria's Secret (3 page)

“He lived here all his life! You know he did.
What do you mean he didn’t own it?” Now Jack was becoming
agitated.

“That is correct, he did live here.” Fred
Douglas stared thoughtfully at the ceiling for a moment, and then
sipped his tea before continuing. “Your Uncle Charley had a
reputation in this town, Jack. He wasn’t known for his
honesty.”

“What do you mean?” Jack’s face grew
pale.

There was a brief silence in the room before
Dr. Sweeney added, “Let’s not mince words, Fred. There’s no two
ways about it. Fact is, and I’m sure young Jack will agree, Charley
Conner was an unscrupulous ornery old son-of-a-bitch, that nobody
liked or trusted. Pardon me Miss.” This last was directed at
Vicky.

She looked from the lawyer to the doctor as
they spoke, growing curious about Jack’s situation. Who was this
Uncle Charley they were talking about?

The lawyer studied Jack as though trying to
gage his reaction to Doc’s words, but the younger man just sat
glowering at the floor. Fred said, “Don’t hold back Doc; tell us
how you really feel about him.”

Doc spoke up, “I treated Charley for all his
various ailments as he got on in years. I can tell you Fred and you
too Jack, it was not an enjoyable experience. Not to mention the
fact, that I have a drawer full of unpaid bills. Charley was tight
as two coats of paint. He liked to hold onto his money.”

Jack took a long pull from his beer and
looked down at the floor once again. Angrily he said, “I know all
that. I’m well aware that Uncle Charley wasn’t exactly Abe Lincoln.
He paid me peanuts to work this farm after he wasn’t able to do it
himself. In return, he promised he’d leave the place to me. He told
me that for the last eight or nine years, right up until he died. I
have a copy of his will, and the county probate office has the
original, so what’s the problem?”

“The problem is the farm belonged to my
grandmother! Right, Mr. Douglas?” she asked, looking hopeful. “The
property must have belonged to Nanna. Her maiden name was
Willet.”

Fred Douglas sighed deeply. He put down his
empty cup and leaned back in his chair. “I suppose I should start
from the beginning. This is a rather long story, so bear with me.
There are things…,” he paused considering, looking back and forth
between the two young people. “There are some things which you both
need to know and now is as good a time as any to discuss them. What
do you say, Doc?”

Dr. Sweeney shrugged and said, “You know more
of the details than I do, Fred. Go ahead.”

The lawyer began, “Well now, Jack, your Uncle
Charley enlisted in the army during World War II. Before he left,
he was an unpleasant sort who had more than once been in minor
trouble with the law. When he came back from the war his nature
wasn’t improved any. Even the army couldn’t knock the cussedness
out of Charley, and couldn’t seem to knock a sense of decency into
him either.”

Mr. Douglas continued. “Vicky, your
grandmother’s family had owned this farm for generations when her
daddy, your great-grandfather, was nearly killed in an accident.
They needed someone to work the place, and Charley came along and
took the job. After a few months, Charley took a fancy to your
grandmother. Could be he was more interested in the farm than he
was in the farmer’s daughter. I’m only speculating. Long story
short, they got married all in a rush. Marry in haste, repent at
your leisure they say.” He looked at Jack.

“Young Victoria Willet, this Victoria’s
grandmother,” he motioned toward her, “realized too late that she’d
made a terrible mistake. She was only eighteen or nineteen at the
time. I know all this because my father told me the story. If you
remember Doc, my father was her family's attorney before I joined
the law firm. All this happened way back, just after the war,
before I was even born.”

Jack looked up, startled. “I never knew Uncle
Charley was married!”

“No doubt that’s because you didn’t grow up
here in Pippen’s Grove. Most folks that did know about it probably
have forgotten by now.”

"What?" she interjected pointing an accusing
finger across the room at Jack. “My grandmother was married to his
uncle? I never knew Nanna was married before she married Grandpa
Joe!”

“She was. It was a brief union however, and a
most unfortunate one apparently. They divorced after only a year or
two. Back then divorce wasn’t quite as common as it is today, and
frowned upon, I might add. This young lady’s grandmother left town
after the divorce. My father was the attorney that drew up the
divorce papers and the financial arrangement entered into by the
two of them.”

“What financial arrangement?” she asked the
lawyer.

“That was the interesting part of the
breakup,” said Fred. “Victoria’s grandmother didn’t want to stay in
town. She just wanted out. I’m not sure of all the details. She
owned the farm free and clear, but didn’t want to sell the
property. Of course, she couldn’t work the farm herself.”

“What exactly was the deal?” asked Doc.

“The agreement was Charley could have
lifetime use of the farm and retain any profits he made from the
orchards. In exchange, he was to pay his former wife a monthly rent
for living and working here. He was also responsible for
maintaining the property and paying the taxes, which he actually
did faithfully each year. If at any time, he failed to pay her or
the taxes, the agreement would be void and the farm would revert
entirely to his ex-wife.” Fred sipped his tea and sighed. “This
young lady's grandmother left town and never looked back. To his
credit, Charley sent that check every month to our firm and we
transferred the money into his former wife's account. There was, of
course, the stipulation that if he defaulted, he’d lose all rights
to live and work on the place.”

Jack looked as though he were about to
explode. He crushed the empty beer can in his hand and blurted,
“Are you telling me her grandmother was always the owner, not my
Uncle Charley?”

Mr. Douglas nodded soberly.

Jack turned to his friend, Dr. Sweeney, who
also nodded. The silence was broken only by the crumple crinkle
sound of the beer can under pressure in Jack’s fist. After a minute
of silence he spoke, in a low voice. “I’m not leaving. I put my
heart and soul, and a lot of sweat into this farm over the last
nine years and I’m not giving it up without a fight. I’ll get my
own damn lawyer and take this to court or do whatever it takes. I
want Miss Bunny Eyes, or whatever her name is, off this property.
She can’t just come waltzing in here and steal everything I’ve
worked so hard for all these years.”

After another minute of painful silence she
spoke up, sounding equally determined. “The name is Buonadies,
stupid! Victoria Buonadies! This house belonged to my Nanna. It’s
not my fault your nasty old uncle lied to you all those years. If
anyone’s leaving, it’s you.”

Once more Doc Sweeney interceded. Rising to
his feet, he held palms out towards the two, like a traffic cop.
“Calm down. I'm sure there is some amicable agreement you can come
to at least temporarily. We don’t want poor Jack thrown out onto
the street, and certainly, Miss Victoria, you’re in no condition to
go anywhere. I must insist you remain here and rest.”

“You’re absolutely right, Doc. I have an
idea. There is a way we can work this out if these nice young
people are agreeable,” said Fred. They all looked in his
direction.

Before continuing, the attorney cleared his
throat. “Now then, here’s the way I see it. Jack has been the
unfortunate dupe, played false by his Uncle. The only silver lining
in that cloud is that Jack will be the last person Charley’s
cheated in this life. I suppose Jack’s owed something on that
account. On the other hand, Jack, what you don’t know is that this
young lady has made her own sacrifices. She probably wouldn’t tell
you herself, but for the last ten years or so, Victoria has devoted
her life to caring for her grandmother who suffered with dementia.
I know it wasn’t easy for her. She gave up a good part of her life
to be caregiver for her grandmother.”

He pointed out the window at blue sky and
acres of pink apple blossoms. “Look out there,” he said. Three
heads swiveled to look out the window at the apple orchards. “In
four months all those lovely blossoms will be apples that need
harvesting. There is no end to the work on a farm. Buildings need
to be maintained and there’s a pest control regime that continues
throughout the season. I imagine Jack has a few acres of sweet
corn, pumpkins, and other things planted. Fact is Vicky; you need
someone to run this place. You can’t let all that just rot and
wither on the vine. Oh, you could hire seasonal workers I’m sure,
but no one knows this farm and the apple business around here like
Jack. You need him.”

“And Jack, you need Vicky. I know you want to
continue working the farm. I believe we can come to some agreement,
a financial arrangement that will be satisfactory to you both.
Perhaps a division of the profits. I certainly can draw up an
agreement. What do you say?”

She scowled at Jack, and his dark brown eyes
bored into hers. He’d apparently dressed in a hurry, and she saw
that he was barefoot, hair still tousled and uncombed. His shirt
was fastened one button off, the collar all askew. He does have a
handsome face, very tan and rugged. It’s too bad that Jack’s
unscrupulous uncle lied to him, but the farm was Nanna's and now
it’s mine. The inheritance was entirely unexpected, but here she
was, her Nanna's only grandchild with a new home and property.

Doc Sweeney was the first to break the
silence. “That sounds to me like a very good deal for both of you.
Vicky would have someone to work the place without worrying about
the details and Jack would still have a job, and probably be making
more money than he did with old tightwad Charley. God knows it
isn’t easy to find a new job around here these days. Otherwise,
Jack would be out on the street like a homeless person. Why don’t
you nice young folks give this some serious consideration?”

Beginning to feel sorry for him, she said
grudgingly, “I guess that might work. What’s happened isn’t his
fault. I can see that now. All I ask is that he stay out of my way
and I’ll stay out of his.”

Jack bristled with barely contained anger as
he looked around the room at all three eager faces. “All right,
guess I’ve got no choice,” he spat through clenched teeth. “I’ll
get out of her way. In fact, I’ll move back to the apartment above
the garage. I lived there for years when Charley was alive.” With a
controlled fury in his voice, he said to her, “Don't worry. I’ll
stay way the hell out of your way.” He gave her one more cold stare
before stomping out and thundering down the stairs.

Later, Doc Sweeney and Fred Douglas stood
together on the front porch watching the sunset out over the Hudson
Valley. The attorney dug his keys from a pocket and they jangled,
breaking the silence.

“Charley Conner was one slippery unprincipled
son-of-a-bitch, the way he swindled Jack. That wasn’t right at
all,” said the doctor.

“Well, nothing any of us can do about it now,
except try and help both those young folks find a way through the
mess,” answered his friend. “I’ll be out tomorrow and give them
some facts and figures to chew on before we put anything on paper
for their signatures.”

“Those two would make a real good looking
couple, don’t you think? Maybe before this is all over, they’ll get
together.”

Fred Douglas threw back his head and laughed
aloud as he walked down the steps toward his parked car. “You
always were a romantic, Doc.” Turning he called back, “Pigs will
fly before those two get friendly with each other.”

“Where did I put my glasses?” Aggravated,
Vicky groped about in the unfamiliar room. “I had them yesterday,
but now they’re gone. I really hope my new contacts come soon. Why
am I whispering when I’m the only one here? That idiot, Jack, can’t
hear me from his apartment. Damn it.” She swore softly as her big
toe connected with the dresser. Without contacts or glasses, she
was terribly near-sighted and didn’t like admitting it. Finally,
sighing with relief, she found them on the bathroom sink.

Doc Sweeney had brought her overnight bag in
from the car before he left, satisfied that her concussion wasn’t
serious. Warning against anything strenuous, he instructed her to
call him if she had any other symptoms. After a good night’s sleep,
she did feel better.

“What I really want most is a shower.”
Locating her soap and shampoo, she discovered towels in the linen
closet. The morning breeze that moved the curtains in the dated
bathroom felt heavenly. Exploring the old-fashioned shower, she
experimented with hot and cold controls until she got the water
temperature just right, before climbing in. The warm water relaxed
her as it flowed through her hair and over her shoulders, but the
knot on the back of her head was still tender as she shampooed.

After a long hot shower, she returned to her
bedroom wrapped in a towel, dug in her bag, and drew out
robin’s-egg-blue silk panties and matching bra. Blue today will
make me feel pretty. Pausing with the scrap of silk halfway up her
legs, a thought flashed into her brain. Oh, man! My skirt was up so
high; Jack must have seen my red panties when he carried me into
the bedroom yesterday! “Damn!” she swore aloud this time. Indulging
herself with sexy under things was her little secret. Why did I
have to go and knock myself out? Smiling, she recalled how very,
very nice he’d looked fresh from his shower. Well, I guess I did
get an eye full too.

Making her way slowly downstairs, she
clutched at the newel post and looked about her tentatively. After
walking around, her headache had returned and the swollen knot on
the back of her head began to throb.