Jane's Breakfast

Sheriff Thom met up with his sister Jane for lunch at Hoot’s Diner. Hoot’s had terrible food but it was still the favorite meeting place for locals - convenient and comfortable, and the service was good. They each ordered coffee and grilled cheese sandwiches, Jane’s with tomato. Sheriff Thom asked for it rare since Hoot had a way of overcooking everything.

The big news in town was the bed and breakfast that Veronica Verploenck had converted the Verploenck farm into. The B&B had been open six months and appeared to be a success, especially considering how bad the weather had been. Every weekend there were five or six cars there, most from out of state.

There were color brochures in the rack by the entrance – “Chenango Dales Bed and Breakfast.” Sheriff had taken one and was thumbing through it when the food arrived. It didn’t seem right to the Sheriff that people would drive up from New Jersey or Connecticutt for a weekend in Chenango County, not in winter. He didn’t know that Veronica had been running contests on her web site, giving away free weekend stays to promote the place.

“Good photo of the house” Sheriff observed. He handed it across to Jane.

Jane wiped her fingers on the napkin before taking the brochure, knit her eyebrows as she studied it. She wasn’t happy with Veronica at that moment. Veronica had been her closest neighbor and best friend growing up. There was a gap of more than 25 years where they were hardly in touch. When Veronica came back to town Jane was hoping that they could be friends again, but Veronica had the same snobby attitude that had separated them.

Jane always thought it was marrying Ronnie Aubrey that made Veronica change. Ronnie was six years older than them. Veronica had a crush on him since she was 12. Ronnie was the lifeguard at the lake. Every summer Veronica would go there as often as she could but Ronnie never took any notice of her until after she sophomore year at Susquehanna High School. Ronnie had just finished college and about to start law school. They dated a few times that summer, then on and off during the year. Susquehanna High School was abuzz with rumors of them going all the way. They got engaged when Veronica graduated high school and married the following June.

When Ronnie finished law school he got a job with the state government. They moved to Albany and bought a house in an upscale suburb. The next year Veronica had her first son, Roger, named after the Dallas Cowboys quarterback. Jane went up for the christening. Ronnie had the wild notion that maybe Roger Staubach would attend, since Ronnie had met him once, at a dinner hosted by Lieutentant Governor Duryea following a motivational speech Staubach had given.

Jane felt completely out of place at the christening. The furniture looked too delicate to sit in. All the women were dressed like Elizabeth Taylor. She didn’t know anyone there except for Veronica and Ronnie, and she and Ronnie had never got along that well. Veronica hardly introduced her to any of her new Albany friends, who all called Veronica “Ronnie.” It was a long afternoon of forced smiles and banal discussions about Ronnie and Ronnie, the house, and the baby. “Little Rog” they called him. The baby looked a lot like Veronica, same big blue eyes. There was an autographed photo of Roger Staubach on the mantelpiece. Jane observed that Little Rog didn’t look anything like him.

The letters stopped and they fell out of touch. They exchanged Christmas cards most years. Most Thanksgivings Veronica and Ronnie came back to Susquehanna. After Veronica’s parents retired to North Carolina the visits stopped altogether. They rented out the farmhouse to a professor from SUNY Chenango and leased out the fields.

When Veronica returned home she did finally take Jane up on her offer, stayed with Jane for three days. They talked about old times. Jane had mixed feelings, unable to overlook the years they’d been out of touch.

Veronica told Jane of her plan to open a Bed and Breakfast. She took Jane over to her place, spent nearly a whole day going through the house, showing Jane the architect’s drawings. Jane got excited, wanted to be involved with the project, but when the work started Veronica forgot all about Jane, again. When the place was ready to open Veronica had a grand opening party, which turned out to be about the same experience as the christening. Most of the people Jane didn’t know, except for Hoot and Sheriff Thom. There were SUNY people there and some friends of Veronica’s from Albany and New York City. Jane left after a half hour.

All those events came back to Jane while she worked on the grilled cheese sandwich, looking out the window at the snow accumulating on Main Street. The shops across the street made her think of a scene from “It’s A Wonderful Life” where Jimmy Stewart walked past some shops in the snow. That movie was supposed to be somewhere in Upstate NY, in a town like Susquehanna, only larger, and west of Syracuse.

The snow was coming down heavy. Two students pushed noisily into the diner, stomping the snow off their boots. Hoot made a face since he had already cleaned the whole kitchen and was ready to close but he couldn’t turn away customers in this kind of weather. The students took a booth on the other side of the restaurant. Hoot brought them menus then came over and refilled Jane’s coffee. Sheriff Thom put his hand over the top of his cup. Hoot noticed the brochure in Jane’s hands.

Hoot smiled broadly and pointed at the brochure. “That’s some operation that Veronica has. Did you ever think about doing a bed and breakfast, Jane? You’re about the best cook I ever knew.” Hoot went off to take the students’ order.

“Maybe I should do a bed and breakfast” Jane speculated.

Sheriff Thom processed that. The house would need a lot of work. Jane had been living alone there for twenty years. A lot of the rooms were closed off. It would run $25,000 for the mechanics, where would Jane get that money, let alone whatever else it would cost for furniture, redecorating, and advertising.

They discussed it for a while, mulled over financing options. Sheriff Thom had always felt responsible for his younger sister, thought that farm work was too hard for her, now that she was 50. He had tried to get her interested in law enforcement but she didn’t want to leave the farm. At least she had some help the past few years wth the Mexican farmhand but it was still too much and sooner or later she’d have to stop. A bed and breakfast might be a good alternative.

The money was the stumbling block. Jane had a couple of thousand saved. Sheriff figured he could load her five more. They would have to go to the bank and see about a loan. They stood up to leave.

“Are you serious about this?” Sheriff asked. It seemed too much of a spur of the moment decision to go rushing off to the bank.

Jane nodded. “I know you worry about me. I worry about me too. My hip has been nothing but trouble. If I could take it easier I would, and why couldn’t I do what Veronica is doing?”


Sheriff Thom recognized the loan officer, a former SUNY student from Long Island who had had been in a couple of bar fights, took a swing at a deputy once and spent the night in jail. That had happened eight or nine years earlier. The kid had been really drunk, what the Sheriff liked to call “category 5 shitfaced.” Sheriff shook the guy’s hand, thought he detected alcohol underneath mouthwash. Sheriff Thom tried to remember his name without looking at his nameplate - Jason Thorne, Jason Thornman. It was actually Joshua Truman. Still a cocky son of a bitch, and now he held the cards. Jane sat down unaware of the tension between Joshua and the Sheriff.

They discussed the financing options for half an hour. Jane did not follow any of it, was relying on her brother for that. It all seemed so real now, the idea of opening a bed and breakfast.

“Frankly,” Truman started half his sentences with ‘frankly’, “I don’t think that the bank would be very interested in financing another bed and breakfast in town. I would have to see your business plan first.”

“Business plan!?” Jane looked at her brother.

Sheriff Thom made a mental note that the loan officer drove the blue 330xi that was parked in the handicapped spot. Had to be his since there were only two cars there and the ’85 Tercel had to belong to the teller. He would jot down the plate and pass it along to the deputies who would add it to the SPSL, the sheriff’s personal shit list.

Truman suppressed a smile, indeed shook hands with both of them with enthusiasm, pressed his free hand on top of Jane’s, told her to be sure to get him the business plan. It was ten past five when they left, and it was getting dark. They walked back down Main towards Hoot’s where they had left their cars.

“Well, you could take out a mortgage on the place” Sheriff offered.

“You know I’ll never do that” said Jane. The farm had been in the family for eight generations without a mortgage. Mortgage meant foreclosure in Jane’s mind. Her parents had warned them about that, told them about neighbors of theirs who had lost their farms.

“Hell, why don’t I just sell the place?”

Sheriff wished she would but knew there was nothing in her sarcasm.

“So what are you going to do then? If you don’t mortgage the place you won’t get the money to fix the place up.” Sheriff wondered if she was really serious about the Bed and Breakfast. The idea had only come up that afternoon and now they were talking about mortgaging the place.

Jane got in her car, started it up, rolled down the window despite the snow.

“Well, how about I forget about the Bed part and just open a Breakfast. I can use the dining room and living room as is, just fix up some tables and chairs. Won’t need a loan that way. You know I’m a far better cook than Veronica, beat her all the time in the 4H.”

“This isn’t the 4H, Jane. People aren’t going drive up from New Jersey just to have breakfast at your place. There already are too many restaurants not doing too well in the area.”

“That doesn’t seem to have stopped Veronica.”

“Well the grass might be greener on the other side of the fence but you still have to mow it.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That means that Veronica has already done it.”

“Well I’m going to do it too, my way.”

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