“Thank you. I just felt like dressing in something besides jeans for a change. I think Romeo and Juliet are outside. I’ll lock up back here and we’ll go out the front,” she said.
Since the Van Winkle incident, Jack insisted on locking the doors when they weren’t at home. He’d shown her the security cameras and explained how to bring up the view of all sides of the house. This made Vicky feel more secure, especially with Jack staying in the house at night. As he headed for the front door, Vicky opened and closed the back door but intentionally left it unlocked.
* * *
Ben Cohen was waiting patiently in the parking lot behind Paulding’s Rest. Edna was taking a long time saying her goodbyes to the friends they’d had dinner with. Gray haired George Miller exited the tavern and walked slowly over to Ben’s car. His wife was inside as well. With a groan, Ben climbed out of the low-slung sedan and joined him. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“We may have a while yet to wait for the ladies. Cigar?” George pulled a pair of cigars from an inside jacket pocket and handed one to Ben.
“Sure George. Why not? Edna will throw a hissy fit if I smoke it in the car on the way home, but so what. She’ll just have to throw her hissy.”
George produced a lighter and ignited both stogies and they puffed contentedly.
“My doctor says I should give up the cigars,” remarked Ben casually.
“Yeah, my doc says the same. What are you gonna do anyway? If you can’t enjoy life a little, then what’s the use?”
This was followed by a moment of silent puffing.
“Ever since I had that second accident Edna insists on doing all the driving. Even though, it wasn’t my fault. Tell you the truth, George; I’m perfectly happy to let her. Know what I mean?”
George nodded and blew a thick cloud of smoke skyward. “Sure Ben, if she wants to, why not. I know the accident wasn’t your fault. Nobody’s fault really, what you’d call a freak accident,” chuckled George. “Was that young woman in the other car all right?”
Ben nodded, rolling the cigar expertly from one corner of his mouth to the other. He removed it and held it at arm’s length studying the glowing tip, looking a little like George Burns, about to offer a droll joke. “Yeah, she’s okay. Thank God. I tried to get Edna to take over the driving years ago, but no, she said that was my job. Always has been. For fifty years of marriage, always been my job. I think she just didn’t want to be bothered. So, now she’s afraid I’ll kill myself on the road and she drives everywhere.”
Their wives rounded the corner of the tavern and gave them a disapproving frown. Car doors slammed. Everyone called good night and drove out into Main Street. Edna accelerated cautiously while turning up her nose at the unpleasant smell of the smoke billowing from her husband’s cigar.
* * *
While John and his mechanic discussed what service Jack needed on a vehicle with over 100,000 miles, Vicky slipped into the restroom of the Shell station. Rapidly she exchanged text messages with Diane confirming that everything was proceeding as planned. Emerging from the Ladies Room, she saw that only John was there, counting the cash from his register.
“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 w
as 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.
“What in hell’s going on here?” Seeing that it was Van Winkle, John didn’t stop to ask any further questions, but threw him to the ground and sat on him.
At that moment, a tremendous boom sounded from down the road. Everyone in the house turned in that direction and all, nearly in unison exclaimed, “What was that?” As flames rose high above the trees.
With everyone distracted, Vicky took the opportunity to button herself up and straighten her hair. Jack was rooted to the floor like a statue, grinning sheepishly. Putting his arms around her from behind, he whispered in her ear. “How did you know it was my birthday?”
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