Vinnie and the Duck
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Janet Evanovich and, in this case, she can keep them. I'm just borrowing them for literary fun, not for profit. Hope you enjoy getting to know them as I see them through my slightly warped lens.
A/N: Did you ever wonder about the rumors of Vinnie and the duck? This short one-shot story is set during "Two for the Dough." This is my first attempt at writing fiction. I would be appreciative of any and all comments.
Vinnie was forty-five, 5'7" without his lifts, and had the slim, boneless body of a ferret. He wore pointy-toed shoes, liked pointy-breasted women and dark-skinned young men, and he drove a Cadillac Seville.
Of all my relatives, Vinnie was my least favorite. Vinnie was a worm, a sexual lunatic, a dog turd.
Lucille was Vinnie's wife and the only woman in the Burg who didn't know about Vinnie's addiction to kinky sex.
From "One for the Money" by Janet Evanovich.
It had been a long tiring day and it was late. Vinnie walked through his bail bonds office, turned off the lights and locked the front door. He was still fuming over the loss of $50,000. Time had run out on Arnie, 'the Pug,' Korina, one of his high-ticket bond cases. Arnie had skipped, no one had been able to bring him in and Vinnie had to forfeit the bond he had put up to the courts. With Ranger 'in the wind' and Stephanie still learning the skills needed to be a bounty hunter, he was losing a bundle.
Damn, he needed to hire another bond enforcement agent. Maybe he should call Joyce Barnhardt, she was always up for a skip…and a roll in the hay, heh heh. He rubbed his hands in anticipation and laughed wickedly.
On top of losing all that bond money today, he got rudely shot down by the new file clerk Connie had hired earlier in the week. He had fixated on those big bouncing buns of hers as she bent over the bottom file drawer and he couldn't resist a double-fisted grab. He didn't mind her slapping him, he even got turned on by that, but the screeching tirade of filth that followed from her wisecracking mouth and her sharp finger jabbing him again and again in the chest was a definite turn-off. What was her name? Was it Lola, no Lulu; hell, whatever. She was a spitfire and more woman than he was willing to handle, or is that manhandle he thought, smirking to himself.
It was time to close up for the day and go home. Thinking of home, a soft smile spread across Vinnie's face, an expression very few people ever got to see. He went out the back door of the office, climbed into his white Cadillac and drove home.
He pulled up in the wide driveway and parked next to an older model Chevy Nova. He could see lights on in the kitchen and the living room. As he opened the front door, he heard the lilting strains of Tchaikovsky coming from the back studio. He smiled. Swan Lake was her favorite. It must have been a good day.
He found them just finishing their last dance moves as he walked into the studio. Lucille looked elegant with her long dark hair twisted into a loop at the nape of her neck. Nestled within her dark hair was a silver comb studded with dozens of seed pearls. Vinnie had given his wife the comb for their twentieth wedding anniversary last year. Lucille had worn it everyday since without fail.
She was dressed in a white leotard and matching puffy tutu, her ballet shoes wrapped with satin ties criss-crossing her ankles. She gracefully leaned forward and raised one leg straight out in back of her, performing an arabesque penché and then slowly raised her arms over her head, en couronne. Barb was standing off to the side, clapping and shouting "Brava, Odette, Brava" as the last notes of the music faded away.
Lucille looked up from her pose and her face lit up as she saw Vinnie. Bursting into giggles, she glided lightly over the floor and flung herself into his open arms exclaiming, "Siegfried, mi amore." He treasured these brief moments when he could hold her tightly like this with her arms hugging him back. It never failed to amaze him that she could still remember everything about the ballet, including the name of her favorite male character in Swan Lake, when so much of her everyday life was now gone from her memories.
Breaking away from Vinnie's embrace, but sliding her hands down to grasp both of his, Lucille starting breathily telling him about her day, and how gloriously she had danced, even completing a difficult leap. She turned to Barb, her words tumbling out, "Tell Vinnie how well I did the grand jeté, and that I didn't stumble and my arms were perfect and I landed well." She was smiling and giggling, her face flushed and glowing.
Vinnie laughed and swept her up in his arms, twirling her around before setting her back down. She was still so beautiful and he loved to hear her laugh. Not all days were like this. Barb came over and reiterated her praise of Lucille's performance and reminded Vinnie she would be back, bright and early, at 7:30 tomorrow morning. She kissed Lucille on the cheek and squeezed Vinnie's arm as she left the room and walked out to her car.
With their arms entwined around each other's waist, Vinnie and Lucille walked slowly through the house to the kitchen. Dinner was waiting in the oven, thanks to Barb. As they ate, Lucille's exuberant demeanor slowly faded, her face eventually taking on a blank look. Vinnie watched his wife slip away, knowing she was lost in the fog that was rapidly filling her damaged mind. He inwardly sighed, fixing a smile on his face as he rose and gathered the dishes.
"Lucille, it's time to get ready for bed. Give me your hand and we'll go upstairs and brush our teeth." She sat there, staring across the table at the far wall. Vinnie took her hand and guided her up the stairs to her bedroom. He got her into her flannel nightgown, loosely braided her hair, helped her brush her teeth and then washed her face, gently talking to her all the while about nothing in particular.
As he turned down her bed covers, she climbed in and pulled the covers up to her chin. Then her face screwed up and she started to whimper, "Lucy Goosy, where's Lucy Goosy?" Vinnie quickly searched both sides of the bed and finally found her beloved stuffed animal tucked between the bed and the nightstand.
He picked it up and brushed it off lightly, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. The toy was getting threadbare in places. It wasn't really a goose; it was actually a big yellow duck with orange webbed feet. He handed Lucille the stuffed animal and her face broke out in a smile. She talked softly to her old friend in a light girlish voice, "Hello, Lucy Goosy, it's time for bed." She kissed the tip of its fabric beak three times, always three times, and then hugged it tightly to her chest.
She looked up at Vinnie expectantly. He asked, "Sleeping Beauty or Little Princess?" She grinned and pointed to the book that was always on top of the nightstand. Vinnie settled himself on the side of her bed and began reading the fairy tale she so loved.
When he saw that she had fallen asleep, he leaned over, gently kissed her forehead and whispered, "Good night, my love. Please come back to me when you can. I miss you so much."
He turned off the overhead light making sure the night-light was on and walked down the hall, alone, to his bedroom.