Special Delivery (A Valentine's Short Story) Page 4

  “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 stud
ied 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.”

  “You make it sound so cold.”

  “Blame Mallory, not me.” He studied her a beat, noting her expression had grown cloudy. “Is there something else going on that I don’t know about?”

  “My mom’s not getting any better.”

  “That neck thing?”

  “Her slipped disk, yeah.”

  “I thought she was going to have surgery?”

  Nikki looked at him sadly. “She can’t afford it.”

  “What about the diner? Don’t they provide insurance?”

  “It’s a crappy plan, barely covers half the cost.” Her brow creased with worry. “It hurts her every day to go to work. Even getting up in the morning is painful.”

  “She said that?”

  “She didn’t have to. I’ve seen how she moves.”

  “Well, maybe she can get a loan, talk to the doctors? Hospitals sometimes have repayment plans.”

  “We’ve looked into that. I even offered to help.”

  Jack understood that was generous, but he also knew Nikki didn’t make a lot of money herself on her department store tailor’s salary.

  “But she’s too proud. She’d never take me up on it, knowing I barely scrape by myself. Besides, she says if I’m going to help anyone out, it should be Tony.”

  “Tony?”

  “He graduates high school this year, and really has his heart set on going to college.”

  “That’s expensive these days.”

  “Way costly. Even in state.”

  “What about scholarships? He’s a good student, right?”

  “State assistance was cut back with the recent budget cuts. He says he may have to put off going. Work a few years first.”

  Jack studied her with sympathy. “Sounds rough.”

  “Some days Ma can’t even make it in to work. They dock her pay in that case. And she’s got a mortgage to meet and bills to pay for Tony.”

  Jack stared at her with incredulity. “Just what are you saying? That you’re considering meeting your Aunt Mallory’s conditions?”

  “Maybe it won’t be so bad? In the short term.”

  He leaned forward and touched her arm. “But in the long term? Over time?”

  “I’m not saying it has to last forever. Me and the prospective”—she appeared to nearly choke on the word—“groom can cut a deal.”

  Jack massaged his brow. “Who are you planning to marry, Nikki? You’re not even seeing Dean anymore.”

  “That’s true.” She licked her lips and sat up a little straighter. “But I’ll find someone, don’t you think? I’m not such a bad a catch. Especially not for half a million dollars.”

  “I thought it was two?”

  “That’s the amount I’m willing to share with someone who’ll go through with it. I guess if they insist, I could negotiate up to half the total.”

  “Now you’re talking crazy.”

  “No, I’m being reasonable.” And when she said it, for a lunatic instant, it looked like she believed it.

  “So you’re going to go out there and find someone to marry. Just like that! By February fourteenth.”

  “Yes.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’d better start looki
ng.”

  Although he suspected the outcome, Jack decided to chance it anyway. “You could always marry me…?”

  “Oh, Jack, please be serious!”

  He affected a chuckle to make it seem like he’d been kidding. “Well, someone’s got to lighten the mood around here.”

  “Yeah, right. You’re a very funny guy. But most importantly, you’re my best friend. Which is why you’ve got to help me.”

  Jack adored Nikki, would move heaven and earth for her. But help her find another man to marry? He wasn’t sure he could do that.

  “Come on, Jack, puleeze?” She batted those eyes, and Jack knew he was a goner. He’d never been able to refuse Nikki anything in his entire life. And now his life, and all the secret hopes and dreams he’d harbored, were about to be harpooned by her ludicrous request. “I’ve always wanted a baby.”

  “There are places you can go for that without signing the rest of your life away.”

  “It’s not the rest of my life. I don’t even have to stay married. Just long enough to get pregnant.”

  Jack willed his mind not to go there. There was nothing worse than thinking of Nikki with another guy. When she was with a boyfriend, it was easy enough for him to push those thoughts away completely. It was when she was between them that Jack’s hopes became renewed. Time and time again. When would he ever learn? Hadn’t Nikki made things clear enough the night of their senior prom?

  She appeared to be thinking, those mental wheels turning in some sort of diabolical plan. When she set her gaze back on his, she seemed buoyed, as if she’d convinced herself this entire wacky scheme could work.

  “We’ll have the kid call you Uncle Jack,” she continued brightly. “In the end, you’ll probably be closer to him than his own dad. It’s not like Dad will be much in the picture. That will be part of the deal.”

  Jack felt the burn in his eyes but smiled tightly to disguise his feelings. “What if Dad doesn’t agree?”

  She brushed aside his concerns with a wave of her hand. “Aren’t you the one who’s fond of saying there’s always a way to work things out?”

  Now she was twisting his words to serve them back at him. “Nikki—”