Keeping Victoria's Secret (33 page)

“I’m just getting ready to close up, Vicky.
Jack will be back in just a minute. Meet me out front in five and
I’ll drive you both back to the farm.”

She wondered where he'd gone, but as soon as
she walked outside, Jack came trotting around the corner carrying a
small leather bag. He smiled at her, holding it up.

“Some stuff I didn’t want to leave in the
truck. Is John ready?”

At that moment, Van Wart’s black Ford
explorer came around from behind the building and they piled
in.

“We all wouldn’t fit in the Mustang
comfortably so we’re taking the SUV. Going to drop you off and then
I’ve got to get right back because I’ve got a hot date.”

“Really,” said Vicky. Who with, John?”

“Diane, of course. We’re on again, off again.
You know, neither one of us knows what we want.”

Vicky knew all too well what it was that
Diane wanted. The problem was that she couldn’t seem to get John to
realize it. At least he was playing his part in their little
deception. Jack hasn’t got a clue, she thought smiling to
herself.

Jack felt pleased with himself thinking, She
hasn’t got a clue what I’ve got planned.

“John, did we tell you that Fred confirmed
that Van Winkle’s lawyer dropped the suit? There’s nothing to worry
about any longer. Fred found another will or something which blew
their case out of the water.”

“No Jack, you didn’t tell me, but I did hear
something about it through the Grove Grapevine. I’m really glad for
you two. Guess that means old Rip is left twisting in the wind.
Only thing he gets out of the deal is more bad will from everybody
in town. Serves him right.”

By the time John dropped them at home, the
sun had set and it was nearly dark. The crickets were in rare form,
scraping out their steady cadence in the warm August night. John
smiled and waved, pulled into the road and went zooming off back
toward Pippen’s Grove.

Jack slipped his hand around Victoria’s waist
and guided her wordlessly to the porch. He unlocked the door but
didn’t go in. Instead, he put his bag on a table and took her in
his arms, kissing her.

“Let’s just sit here for a minute Victoria.
Look, the moon has come out.” It had just risen and the front lawn
was bathed in its eerie light.

“It’s beautiful Jack, but maybe we should go
in.” She knew all his friends were waiting silently inside the
darkened house.

“Just wait,” he said, opening the leather bag
and removing a small gift-wrapped box.

Down the road around the bend, a battered
pickup truck was parked on the shoulder. Van Winkle dragged a
five-gallon gas can from the truck’s bed. He listened and looked
about furtively, checking left and right for headlights. An engine
could be heard, coming from the direction of town. Quickly, he
yanked the can out of his truck knocking a second can of gasoline
onto its side. As quietly as he could, Jonathan stole into the
orchards, unaware that the spout of the second can rested against
the truck bed, its cap threaded improperly.

In the moonlight, at the side of the road,
gasoline steadily dripped and drizzled into the metal bed of the
pickup. Finding its own way, in slow obedience to the laws of
gravity it dribbled to the ground beneath the vehicle.

While Jack and Vicky were at the Shell
Station in Pippen’s Grove, two dozen of their friends snuck into
the farmhouse for Jacks surprise party. The cars were shuttled back
a short way down the road to the Sweeney’s home. Elvira had the
food organized in the kitchen ready to serve the hungry guests.

With lights out inside the farmhouse, Diane
watched from a window as Jack and Vicky left John’s SUV and started
for the porch. She shushed the huddled crowd of people in the
kitchen whispering, “Everybody be totally quiet. When I see them
come through the front door, I’ll flip on the lights. That’s the
signal for you to jump out and yell ‘SURPRISE!’ Now be quiet and
stay out of sight.” They hunkered down behind couches, chairs, and
doorways.

Jonathan Van Winkle emerged from the trees
crouching warily. He studied the darkened house and yard. “If I
ain’t gonna have this place, ain’t nobody gonna have it. Whole
place is dark. There ain’t no cars by the house, and ain’t no truck
in that garage,” he muttered. “There’s nobody home. Nobody here to
see a thing and this’ll look like an accident all right.”

A cloud drifted across the face of the moon
extinguishing its light. The yard behind the house was suddenly in
shadow and all was darkness and silence. Jonathan saw his
opportunity. He darted across the driveway and went down on his
knees at the edge of the garden, listening.

“Let’s go inside, Jack. I have things to
do.”

“It can wait. Please? Sit down with me for a
minute.” Jack insisted she sit next to him on the porch. He drew a
table between them, and placed a small box in front of her.

“Victoria, it’s something for you. Open it
please.”

“But Jack, can’t we go inside?”

“Please just open it first. I have a little
something for you and I want you to see it here, now while it’s so
nice in the moonlight.”

The moon emerged from behind the covering
cloud, as though at Jack’s command, brilliantly lighting the lawn
before them. How romantic is this? It’s perfect. The moonlight,
everything is just perfect.

Out on the road a car rolled slowly towards
the farm. Inside Ben and Edna Cohen maintained a belligerent
silence. He was still puffing on his cigar, filling the car with
clouds of smoke, much to her chagrin.

“Ben really, that thing smells abominable.
Please put it out.”

“My dear this happens to be a very fine cigar
and it doesn’t smell at all abominable. It’s quite fragrant. George
gave me this cigar and I intend to smoke it. I’ve got the window
open.”

“Honestly Ben, I’m beginning to feel sick.
You know I can’t stand the smell.”

The Cohen vehicle rolled smoothly past the
Willet place, rounding the bend in the road.

“Please Ben!”

Ben sighed heavily. Perfectly good Macanudo,
he thought, frustrated. “Oh all right Edna. For God’s sake!”

He flung the half-smoked cigar through his
open window. It arched in a high trajectory, trailing sparks in the
darkness like an artillery shell. Landing, it bounced on the
pavement and rolled, coming to rest in a tangle of dry grass. The
little pile of tinder just happened to be under Jonathan Van
Winkle’s truck and just inches from a spreading puddle of
gasoline.

John Van Wart jogged back from the Sweeney’s
place expecting to see the farmhouse lit up and laughter spilling
into the night. Instead, all was dark and silent. He stopped, and
peered up at the house. Those two are still sitting on the porch.
What’s up with that? I better go around back. He slipped into the
orchard and made his way carefully the long way around toward the
back yard.

Inside the house, everyone waited, expectant
and tense. No one moved. Elvira Sweeney whispered in Diane’s ear.
“Why aren’t they coming in?

Diane put a finger to her lips, emitting a
barely audible, “Shhhhh.”

"What in the world could those two possibly
be doing out there?"

Realizing that Jack simply wasn’t going to
take no for an answer, Vicky quickly pulled the wrapping from his
little box. Looking inside all she could see was tissue paper. She
shot a suspicious glance at him.

“Be careful; it’s fragile.”

Slowly she removed the paper to reveal a
china teacup and saucer. A twin of the one she’d dropped on the
floor and smashed a month before. Her eyes grew wide and she looked
up at him.

“Oh Jack. Where did you find this? It’s
Nanna’s china.”

“I looked on line. It took a while to find
the exact pattern. I know the few things of hers that you still
have are important to you. When you dropped the cup and saucer the
other day…, well, I thought of looking for a replacement. Do you
like it?”

She set the cup down, got to her feet, and
leaned over to kiss him.

“Jack, you’re so sweet. Thank you so much.
Now we’d better go in.”

“Not yet Victoria. Look inside the cup.”

Confused, she picked it up and realized that
the cup was heavier than it ought to be. Removing the tissue, she
found a small velvet box. Her head began to swim as she stared at
the thing in her hand.

“Victoria, open the box please,” said Jack in
a low husky voice.

With trembling hands, she lifted the lid and
the moonlight danced and sparkled on a beautiful diamond. Ever so
slowly, she drew it out and held it up in the light. “Oh my God,”
she whispered. She hadn’t noticed him moving from his chair, but
now Jack was on one knee before her.

“Victoria, will you marry me?”

“Oh my God, Jack,” was all she could manage
to say.

“Victoria, please, I’m asking you.”

Tears formed at the corners of her eyes and
once again, she murmured, “Oh Jack, Oh my god, Jack.”

He reached up and took the ring, slipping it
onto her finger.

“Victoria, please. I love you. Please give me
your answer,” he whispered.

All thoughts of the birthday party were
driven from her mind. Jack’s upturned face and the ring, twinkling
in the light of the moon were all she could see and it over whelmed
her. The man was asking her to marry him. Feeling as though she
were leaping from a high precipice she croaked, “Yes, yes Jack, of
course I will. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He got to his feet, pulling her to him.

“Jack?”

That single syllable from her, uttering his
name with a question in the tone was precisely what he’d heard that
day when they stood before the old trunk. Electricity arched
between them as she asked “Jack?” in that very same way. It was too
much for him to bear. His last thin shreds of restraint fell away
as he took Victoria in his arms and kissed her long and hard. She
responded, joining him in an embrace that would last a
lifetime.

Jonathan Van Winkle eased the back porch door
open ever so slowly and set his can of gasoline down on the floor.
He slipped inside and sank to his knees, searching in his pocket
for the box of matches. A door closed in the house. "What was
that?" He listened carefully, but heard only the crickets.

Once more Elvira peeked around the edge of
the kitchen doorway into a dark dining room and front hall. She
whispered again in Diane’s ear. “Why don’t those two young people
come inside? What on earth are they doing?”

Diane put her finger to her lips again,
urging silence. Around the room, the guests began to fidget as the
tension increased.

Victoria pulled her lips from Jack’s,
fighting for breath. Her hands unbuttoned his shirt, roamed over
his torso and up to stroke the back of his head. His hands moved
down to cup her rear as he pulled her to him, crushing their two
heated bodies together.

“Oh Jack! I love you. Oh my god, I want you
so much.”

“Yes Victoria.” His mouth descended on hers
once more and their tongues swept over one another, exploring. One
hand slipped inside her blouse, opening the buttons, toying with
her breasts as she moaned with pleasure.

Pulling away with difficulty, he scooped her
up, one arm under her knees. “This is the way it’s done right? I
carry you over the threshold?” he rasped out hoarsely, his breath
labored.

“That’s after we’re married,” she said
laughing.

“Okay, so we’ll pretend that’s already
happened.” Jack was losing control. He nudged the screen door open
with one knee and pushed on the other door getting Victoria’s legs
and one of his inside. He couldn’t resist reaching up her velvet
smooth legs all the way to her panties. His fingers danced and
tickled the smooth silk. Victoria groaned as he pushed through the
door.

From the darkened kitchen Diane stood, jaw
dropped. One hand on the light switch, but unable to move as she
listened to the lovers in the front hall.

“Oh dear me. Mercy!” gasped Elvira.

Jack backed against the wall. Unwilling to
let go of Victoria, he nudged towards the light switches beside the
door. As he continued to tease her with his fingers Jack asked
loudly enough for everyone in the house to hear, “I wonder what
color your panties are tonight. Maybe the red silk?”

Then he flipped the panel of switches and the
downstairs lights came on. Two dozen of their closest friends came
out from hiding, yelling “SURPRISE!” One second of horrified
silence ensued. Jack and Victoria stared at the sea of faces. She
tried to smile and whispered, “Happy Birthday. I guess I
forgot.”

Jack let Victoria’s legs drop to the floor
and held up her hand for all to see. The diamond sparkled. “It’s
okay! She said yes!”

“She certainly did,” said Joe chuckling.

Just then from the back porch, came a
blood-curdling scream of pain and terror. Everyone turned and
nearly in unison exclaimed, “What was that?”

When the lights came on and a collective
shout arose inside the house, a shocked Jonathan Van Winkle rocked
back on his heels, exclaiming, “What was that?”

He didn’t see the two glowing green eyes
narrow to wary slits, above him. Romeo crouched, ready to
retaliate. Gathering himself, the cat poised for an instant and
then sprang out, launching his little body through space at
Jonathan’s head. He landed squarely on his target. Romeo hung
there, all four sets of claws stapled as deeply as possible for
traction as Van Winkle rose up screaming in terror. When the moment
was just right, the cat leapt neatly off, gouging parallel furrows
in Van Winkle’s scalp and down one side of his face. Romeo streaked
away and disappeared into the night.

Vince Cangelosi ran for the back porch and
flung open the door. To his amazement, there was a gasping
sputtering Jonathan Van Winkle grabbing at his head, dancing a
crazy jig in the moonlight around what looked like a gasoline can.
When the man recognized Vince, he turned and bolted through the
screen door, sputtering with rage and pain, both hands still
holding the top of his head. He ran right into the waiting arms of
John Van Wart.