Special Delivery (A Valentine's Short Story) (5 page)

“Yes.” Jack pumped his fist in the air, and
the attorney lowered his glasses.

“This will go a lot faster without the
commentary.”

“Sorry.” He glanced apologetically at Nikki.
“It just seemed like that was a score.” She’d recently turned
twenty-eight, so that wasn’t a problem.

The man rolled his eyes and resumed reading.
“
Otherwise, the estate will be held in trust until such time
Nicola reaches the age of twenty-five and is therefore is suitably
mature to meet the aforesaid conditions. Assuming she does, she’ll
be at liberty to dispense of her inheritance as she
chooses.
”

Nikki’s head was spinning already.

“That means you can sell the farm.”

“Good.” She didn’t know much about real
estate, but Jack was business minded. He could help her.
But
wait! What if I can’t sell quickly enough? What will become of the
cows? I don’t know a thing about milking! Yikes! What if Aunt
Mallory didn’t leave instructions? Will the poor cows explode?
Would that make me guilty of—gasp—uddercide?

Jack tightened his grip on her hand, sensing
she was growing tense. “Breathe,” he told her quietly. He
demonstrated by sucking in air.

She inhaled a deep breath then let it go,
feeling better. Thank goodness Jack was here. They both turned
toward the attorney, who gaped at them.

“How much is it worth?” Jack asked.

The attorney raised his wrinkled brow. Nikki
noticed it was flecked with age spots. “You don’t know?”

She and Jack shook their heads. “This dairy
has an arrangement with all the major distributors: grocery chains,
restaurants… Biscuit Barrel…”

“Biscuit Barrel?” Nikki asked in surprise.
She and Jack had stopped at one of those on the way here from the
airport. Who knew Jack’s patty melt was secretly connected?

“That sounds big,” Jack said.

“It is big,” the attorney answered.

“How big is
big
?” Nikki wanted to
know.

“Estimated value of this farm and all your
aunt’s investments? Just over two million dollars.”

Jack choked on the words. “Did you say
two…
million
?”

“That’s right. With an M.”

Bright flares of light blasted before her,
and Nikki wondered if she was growing faint. It was like the Fourth
of July had come in December. The attorney and Jack were still
talking, but she could barely hear them for all the commotion going
on in her head. This was what it must feel like to win the lottery.
Crazy, exhilarating… Totally surreal! She could quit her day job!
Help her mom! No wait, without working, she’d probably be bored.
She could become a professional playgirl, maybe. One of those
jetsetters she’d heard of. Maybe even take Jack on a vacation with
her. She owed him one good trip at least, after all he’d done. And
to think, just last week, she’d worried over paying her heating
bill.

“Nikki,” Jack said, “didn’t you hear any of
that?”

“What?”

He clenched his jaw before speaking.
“Condition one.”

“No,” she said breezily, mentally sketching
out an itinerary. The Bahamas? Bermuda? Maybe the Caymans? Yes.
Jack would probably like that. “What’s condition one?”

The attorney stared at her flatly. “That you
marry by Valentine’s Day.”

“Ma…marry?” she stammered. Impossible! Nikki
didn’t even have a boyfriend at the moment.

The attorney righted the hand-scrawled
page
. “Tie the knot. Get hitched. Ball and chain. Hook, line,
and sinker, yes.
”

“She wrote that?” Jack asked in shock.

“Every word, including that next thing about
the baby.”

“
Baby?
” Nikki squeaked. Now she was
certain she would faint.

The attorney shook out the page and flipped
it over. “That’s condition two.”

“Your Aunt Mallory apparently thought she
could dictate not just your marriage but your entire life,” Jack
said, growing indignant.

“She does give you an extra year for the
child. To produce one, I mean.”

“Great!” Nikki chirped cheerily. “Mallory’s
just the one to give family advice!”

“Maybe she wants you to have what she
didn’t,” the attorney noted astutely.

“What makes you say that?” Jack asked.

“It’s in her PS here. And this is to Nicola.
PS: Just in case you’re wondering why I’m doing this, dear
child, it’s for your own good. Life is too short to die embittered
and alone. It might take a while, but you’ll understand this
yourself one day. You’ll be thanking me until the cows come
home.
”

“Until the cows come home?” Nikki asked
weakly.

“It’s an expression,” the lawyer said.

Jack translated. “For a really long
time.”

“Huh?”

“Cows are very slow creatures,” the lawyer
explained. “I think she meant forever.”

“Oh.”

“This is crazy,” Jack said to the lawyer.
“You know it is.”

He held up his hands. “I didn’t make the
rules here. I’m just the referee.”

The fog in Nikki’s brain lifted. “Can we
contest it?”

“Sure you can.” He sat back in his chair and
crossed his arms. “Just as long as you think you can move things
through the courts before that February fourteenth deadline.”

“But that’s less than eight weeks away!”

“What if we can’t?” Jack asked.

“It’s a risk. You’ll have to prove that
Mallory was unstable when she wrote this. I mean, more so than in
her previous days. You’ll also have to find a judge who will hear
your case. We’re not talking weeks now. We’re talking months.
Years, more than likely. But you’re young. You’ve got plenty of
time.”

Yeah, maybe she did, but her mother didn’t.
Nikki would have to talk to Jack about that. Talk to him seriously.
“What becomes of the farm in that case?”

“It gets stuck in probate.”

“And the cows?”

The attorney stroked his chin. “The people
your aunt hired to work this farm can continue for a while but not
indefinitely. Certainly not without being paid. Mallory left behind
enough money to keep them on through the end of February. At that
point, I think she assumed you’d either take over running the
business or sell it off.”

Nikki’s voice rose in panic. “But I don’t
own
the business.”

“You will by February fourteenth—if you
marry.”

Jack finally released her hand and leaned
forward on his elbows. “And if she doesn’t?”

“Everything will be liquidated and absorbed
by the state.”

“What do you mean liquidated?” Nikki asked.
“They won’t hurt the cows?”

“I can’t say what will become of the cows.
Perhaps another dairy will take them, or they’ll be farmed out to
different ones. There are other options too. But you may not want
to hear about them.”

Nikki gasped. She
was
about to become
responsible for uddercide. How horrifying!

“Holy cow,” Jack said. “This is a mess.”

The attorney handed Nikki a weighty
portfolio. “I’d encourage you not to make any rash decisions until
you’ve read this. In spite of what you think of it, your Aunt
Mallory’s bequest to you was really quite generous.”

Nikki nodded numbly, seeming to have lost all
sense of time. “What day is it?”

“December twenty-fifth,” Jack said.

The attorney dismissed them with a smile.
“Merry Christmas.”

Jack stopped Nikki as she was about to lay
her hand on the latch that opened the barn door. “Are you sure you
want to do this?”

Winds whistled around them, riffling through
her layered brown hair. It fell in waves past her shoulders above
her puffy white coat and was now dotted with flakes from the
driving snow. She met Jack’s gaze with pretty blue eyes that had
his caused his heart to skip a beat ever since high school. Not
that she’d ever know he still felt that way. That was Jack’s little
secret. “Positive,” she told him. “One hundred percent.” But when
she shoved at the latch, it appeared to be frozen.

Jack had to muscle in beside her to get it
unstuck. “Here, let me.”

Her hand-knit mittens with the funky
patterned stitch slid out of the way just as loud mooing erupted.
Nikki jumped back with a start. “What was that?”

“Your cow babies,” Jack said with a smile.
“To be.”

Nikki dusted the snow from her hair and
shoulders, then stepped past him when he opened the door. “Ew!” She
covered her mouth against the stench. “Really!”

“They’ve got to go somewhere,” he told her,
jimmying the door shut.

She stared up and down rows of stalls as huge
brown eyes turned in her direction. “Mooo!” one cow bellowed. Nikki
surveyed a large one that appeared to be nearly twice the size of
the others. “Jack, look!” She pointed to a metal plaque that hung
above the cow’s head. “Mallory named them.”

Jack read the lettering. This one had been
named
Mama
. “I think she forgot the
Big
in front of
that.”

Mama craned her neck forward, and Nikki
tentatively patted her head.

Jack spoke from behind her. “Hey there, Ma.
How’s it going?”

“Stop it,” Nikki scolded. “You’re making fun
of her.” The cow met her gaze in agreement and tried to nuzzle
closer, but a stall crossbar stopped her. Nikki studied the host of
equipment protruding from the far wall. “That’s ghastly. Do they
hook her up to that?”

“I’m guessing they do.”

Nikki frowned. “Doesn’t seem like a very good
life.”

“Maybe it’s all she knows?” He gave the cow a
pat, and they kept walking. Jack was impressed by the size of the
operation. From the outside of the barn, he’d had no idea. No
wonder Nikki’s aunt raked in a fortune in Cheez Whiz. They passed
stall after stall, each of them labeled with an individual
name.

Nikki paused before one, her jaw dropping.
“She didn’t.”

Jack surveyed the name plaque with amusement.
“Maybe she meant it as a compliment?” He reached toward the cow.
“Here, Nikki, Nikk… Nikk—”

Nikki slapped his hand away. “Very funny.”
But her lips twisted up slightly at the corners, and Jack knew she
saw the humor in the situation as well.

“Could have been worse,” he said, glancing
back at Mama.

Nikki started to say something smart, but
then her face fell in sadness. “Jack,” she said, slowly meeting his
eyes. “They
will
be okay? All of them?”

Hoo boy, he’d known this was a bad idea from
the moment she suggested it. The last thing someone as caring as
Nikki needed to do was go involving her emotions in what was
already primed to be a highly charged situation. “I’m sure your
aunt wouldn’t really have left them without some sort of plan.”

Big Mama mooed.

“She’s right,” Nikki said. “You didn’t know
her.”

She set her chin and glanced around the
crowded barn.

“You seen enough?”

Nikki paused a long while before answering.
Finally, she said, “We’ve got to find a way to fix this, Jack. A
way to make it work for everyone.”

“I know you have a soft spot for animals,
Nikki, but—”

“For
everyone
, Jack. Not just
them.”

She dove into his soul with a stare, and Jack
knew that whatever was coming next was serious. “I haven’t told you
about my mom. But I will.”

“When?”

“Tonight, when we get back to our motel. But
first…” She wiped back a tear with her mitten. “I need to get out
of here.”

Nikki sat across from Jack as he munched on
his Philly cheese steak sandwich. He’d insisted they grab a bite
before heading back to their motel, and he’d been right. They’d
done delivery pizza the night before and had spent half an hour
arguing over ingredients. Jack took another bite, and melted cheese
oozed out the side of his sub.

Nikki set down her salad fork. “I wish you
hadn’t done that.”

Jack stared at her with utmost innocence.
“What?”

“Ordered
that
.”

“Hey, look.” Jack wiped his mouth with a
napkin. “Just because you’ve gone all vegan on me doesn’t mean I
can’t enjoy a bit of beef.”

“Bad time to order cow, Jack. Not to mention
provolone.”

“Well, Ms. Cream-of-Mushroom-Soup—but oh! Can
you hold the cream? What would you have suggested instead?”

Nikki frowned at the nasty cup of soup she’d
pushed aside. She really should have known better at a place called
the Royal Corral. When she made her request, the server looked at
her like she’d arrived from Mars. Everything on the menu involved
either meat or dairy, except for the meager side salad, which Nikki
eagerly dug into now. “I’m just saying you could have showed a bit
of sensitivity.”

“Sorry.” Jack picked his sandwich back up.
“My sensitivity doesn’t extend all the way down to my stomach.”

They finished their food in silence, and Jack
could tell Nikki was growing grumpy, like she did when her blood
sugar got low. Maybe they could find something on the dessert menu
to perk her up, assuming the pie a la mode could be served without
the ice cream. “Hey, look,” he told her. “It’s really not that bad.
It’s not like the world’s coming to an end or anything like
that.”

“Tell that to Big Mama.”

“We really shouldn’t have gone in that
barn.”

“Of course we should have.” Her pretty blue
eyes flashed with determination. “I needed to see for myself what I
was getting into.”

“Or out of, Nikki. There’s still time to get
out of it.” She stared at him. “Your aunt’s ridiculous condition, I
mean.”

“Conditions,” she corrected. “With an S.”

“Yeah, both of them. I can call my cousin
Dave. He’s a lawyer. Maybe he knows someone up here.”

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,
but—”

“But what?”

She inhaled deeply, then let it out. “I could
really use that money, Jack.”

“Yeah.” He laughed lightly. “We could all use
a couple of million. But not all of us are willing to sell
ourselves for it.”