Read Online No Story to Tell by K. J. Steele - Free Book Online

bizarre urge to steal half my groceries just so I can break even!”
    “Well, I wouldn’t recommend doing that.” Elliot grinned at her over-wrought frustration as he rummaged in the bag closest to him and pulled out two sunset-orange nectarines. “Want one?”
    “No, thank you. I guess I shouldn’t get so worked up about it but, well, I don’t know . . . it just seems sometimes like he resents your presence in his store, and then he acts like he’s doing you a favor taking your money.”
    “Can’t say I’ve ever found him that bad. But then again, he doesn’t have anything against me because I wasn’t here when everyone killed his pig.”
    “He told you that story! That was years ago. And he killed his own pig, anyhow.” Victoria shook her head and laughed. She couldn’t believe a grown man could hang onto a twisted grudge for so long.
    “Oh yeah. He sure did. First six months after I moved here I think I heard it every time I went into the store.”
    “And did he remember to mention that it happened fifteen years ago?”
    “Fifteen years ago! No. I thought it was a fairly recent event. He’s still mad as hell about it. Told me that’s why he had to charge so much for bringing in special orders.” Elliot laughed again at his own expense, and Victoria looked at him puzzled as to what he could possibly find so humorous about being ripped off.
    “That’s funny? You find that funny?” she asked, almost angered by his lack of anger.
    “Well ya, kind of. I guess it’s taking him a long time to offset the cost of that pig!”
    “I don’t know how you can see that as funny. The cheap old bugger tells you some half-truth to justify picking your pocket, and you find it amusing? I’d be furious!”
    “Hmm. Well, maybe you take things too seriously. You have to try and find the humor in life sometimes. It makes it so much more, umm . . . what’s the word? Placable.”
    “Placable?”
    “Yeah. Placable. Ease up a bit, have a laugh. Hey, it was a funny story. I got a good chuckle from it. That’s got to be worth something, doesn’t it?”
    “Well, I don’t know anyone else who saw anything funny about it. The whole town was up in arms the way he raised his prices after that.”
    “Well, maybe the whole town needs to learn to have a laugh at themselves every now and again.”
    Victoria watched his mouth as he smoothly consumed his nectarine, slicing the tender flesh into large mouthfuls while his lips and tongue worked the soft, velvety edges to keep the juices from running down his chin and into his lap.
    “Ya, well I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen any time soon. So . . . I guess maybe I’ll have to learn from you.” She dropped the words and looked out the window. Her heart pounded like she’d just stepped to the edge of a cliff and in a foolish moment peered over and realized the precarious danger of her position.
    Facts used to justify one’s bad behavior have a way of becoming vague and convoluted to intercept the attempts of truth; the pig story was no exception. The project had been a simple enough one to begin with. Mrs. Lyncroft’s daughter Joni had decided to get married to Jimmy Smith, and the young bride was put in charge of ordering the food needed for the reception. The Lyncrofts were a sizable bunch, both in numbers and bulk, and the generally accepted notion was that they also had comparatively more money than most others in the valley. Being acutely aware of this fact and the expectation it placed on her reception dinner, young Joni had insisted on having something more elaborate than plain lettuce in the reception sandwiches. Fancy red-leaf lettuce was eventually decided upon, and Mrs. Lyncroft made the fateful mistake of sending her amply girthed but empty-headed daughter into the Lucky Dollar to place the special order.
    Two days before the event, Mrs. Lyncroft was presented with twelve cases of wilted red-leaf lettuce and a horrendous bill that erred favorably