*mild profanity, mild sexual references

 

Hello friends! The usual spiel: These characters belong to Golden "We’ve got ‘em, we don’t want anyone else to have ‘em, but we ain’t gonna use ‘em" West Publishing. I do not have official permission to be taking such terrible liberties with these characters, but I assure all lawyer types out there that I have nothing but the highest regard and respect for them, and would never hurt ’em—honestly. Besides, I’m not making a monetary gain from this story, cuz frankly, "I don’t care too much for money—money can’t buy me love!"

Many, many (did I mention many?) thanks to our beloved Zap for making this board a reality In the words of James Taylor, "I want to stop, and thank ya baby. I just want to stop, and thank ya baby; yes I do!"

Thanks to GSDana (and you’ll see why in just a few paragraphs). I don’t actually have permission, but I didn’t think she’d mind the blatant theft of a certain person who belongs to her. Besides, as Bobby might say, I wanted it to be a ‘sprize!

"Universe" note: This story takes place four years after "The Scare" or approximately 2 years before "The Mystery of the Missing Intern", just in case ya wanted to know!

 

The Air that I Breathe

by

Mary

 

Help!
I need somebody
Help!
Not just anybody
Help!
You know I need someone
HELP!

Trixie Belden, already awake in her dorm room when her clock radio went off on a Friday morning in October, was in trouble. Big trouble. Help is right! she groaned to herself, grabbing her pillow and hugging it to herself, concentrating. But try as she might, it just wasn’t a very good substitute. This is so disgusting—I’m actually pining! Come on Belden, get a grip. It’s only been six weeks. Six long, lonely, hideous weeks… She pressed the offending pillow to her face as if trying to shut off her thoughts, but she was unsuccessful.

"Ugh, I hate mornings too," her roommate Kerry Lovedy moaned from her side of the room, her spiky brown hair the only part of her visible.

Trixie lowered the pillow, "It isn’t that," she admitted. Her face was a study in lonely misery.

"Ohhhhhhhhh," she said, slowly sitting up, rubbing her eyes. She looked at Trixie sympathetically. "Poor thing—let’s not forget I’ve met Jim. You must be dyin’!" She dramatically flopped back down, letting out a theatrical groan.

Trixie had to smile. When she and her best friend Honey were both accepted at NYU, they decided to live in the same dorm, but have different roommates for the experience. And living with Kerry was definitely an experience! "Shadap," she said lightly.

"Oooooh, baby, I miss your big, strong arms; your masterful lips, your…"

Trixie hurtled her pillow at Kerry, accidentally knocking over her hula girl lamp. Luckily, it didn’t break. "And let that be a lesson to ya," she said as Kerry got out of bed, inspecting her favorite piece of kitsch. She righted the ugliest lamp Trixie had ever seen with a flourish.

"Well, at least it’s Friday—I am soooo ready for the weekend," Kerry said, lying on the floor doing her abdominal crunches.

Trixie slowly got out of bed, staring down at her energetic roommate who was a pink blur in her flannel pajamas decorated with coffee cups and lipsticked, smoking cigarettes. "Whoopee," she said sadly.

Kerry stopped in mid crunch, her pretty face surprised. "Oh Trix—you really are in a bad way, aren’t you?"

Trixie nodded. She normally got to see her boyfriend, who was finishing up his Master’s degree at the nearby Columbia University, quite often. But this semester he was interning at the Boy’s Town Emergency Residential Center in Las Vegas, Nevada. About as far from New York State as you can get without actually leaving the country! she thought sourly. "I can’t believe it—I didn’t think I’d feel so…" she shrugged, her emotional state a complete surprise to her. She expected to miss him of course, but she’d be seeing him at Thanksgiving, and it’s not like they didn’t email each other and talk on the phone regularly.

"So…what?" Kerry asked, regarding her curiously. This was a side to her roomie that she never expected to see. She got up and sat back down on her bed, fanning the back of her neck, her cheeks pink from her exertions.

Trixie paced. "I don’t know! It’s weird. I don’t feel…right."

Kerry grinned. "Mmmmm, sounds like you just need a little…" she broke off, raising and lowering her eyebrows suggestively.

Trixie had to smile. "Weeeeelll, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling, how should I put it, needy in that area!" The two young women giggled a bit, Trixie feeling her face get a little warm at the undeniable longing she felt. "But, no, that’s not my problem. Well, it’s not all of my problem! I just…" Trixie stopped, suddenly realizing that, as much as she valued their friendship, she had gone as far as she wanted to go. I need to talk to Honey, ick factor and all! "We’d better start getting ready or we’ll be late—you know how Professor Jarvis is," she finally said, referring to their Advanced Criminal Investigation teacher. It was to their mutual delight that they shared many of the same Criminology classes, Trixie hoping to someday open her own detective agency and Kerry supplementing her pre-law courses, determined to someday be a District Attorney. She hoped she wasn’t hurting Kerry’s feelings.

Kerry nodded understandingly. She’s really freaked out, poor girl. "Dibs on the shower," she said, dashing into the bathroom. Luckily, Paulette Goddard Hall, where they resided, featured, among other amenities, private bathrooms in each room.

"Go ahead—I took one last night so I could sleep longer," Trixie said. Unfortunately her plan backfired—she’d been awake since just before 5:00 am, waking up with such a longing to see Jim that she could hardly breathe, completely taken aback at the almost physical sense of loss. What the hell was going on with her? She slowly got dressed, her mind in turmoil.

Trying to catch your heart
Is like trying to catch a star
But I can't love you this much baby
And love you from this far
Waiting for a star to fall
And carry your heart into my arms
That's where you belong
In my arms baby, yeah
Waiting (however long...)
I don't like waiting (I'll wait for you...)
It's so hard waiting (don't be too long...)
Seems like waiting (makes me love you even more...)

Kerry’s enthusiastic singing voice floated into the room, a love of 80’s music another common interest the two roommates shared. Trixie sighed as the lyrics seemed to mirror her inner emotional state. She highly doubted if Jim was acting this silly. Knock this sad sack stuff off, Belden, she said to herself sternly as she wandered into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, determined suddenly to finish the day more logically than she started it.

*     *     *

 

"Jim? Earth to Jim!"

The sound of the Senior Group Counselor’s voice slowly intruded into Jim’s rather vivid daydream. "Hmm? Oh, sorry Eric. You were saying?" He was sitting in the small staff room, gazing out of the window when the older man arrived.

Eric Langley regarded his intern with amusement. "It wasn’t anything earthshattering; just good morning." He pulled a chair out from the table where Jim was sitting, glancing out the window to see what had him staring like that. All he saw was sand and a parking lot. He sat down and continued. "What’s with you, man? You were staring out the window like alien forces had landed. This is Nevada, not New Mexico!"

Jim took a long sip of coffee to avoid answering right away, not wanting to admit that he had been thinking about his girlfriend when he was supposed to be reading a case file. Had in fact been thinking of her ever since he opened his eyes that morning to the sound of that awful pop group singing, You couldn't comprehend/me being just a friend/so you/took it upon yourself/to make me yours/and not no one else, baby/So girl don't stop/what you're doing/keep going. Had it really only been six weeks since he held her last? It felt like a hundred years. "I was just thinking," he finally said, shuffling the papers in the file in what he hoped was a business-like way.

Eric laughed. "You’re homesick, aren’t you? The sixth or seventh week is when it usually hits people." He ran a hand through his gray hair, the lines around his eyes deepening.

Homesick? Jim supposed he was—October in New York was pretty amazing. But if he was going to be honest with himself, if Trixie was sitting with him right now instead of Eric, he wouldn’t care if he was in Antartica. He couldn’t believe how much he missed her. Before Eric interrupted him he had been reliving the way she felt under him, the rasping sound of her breath in his ear, the way she moaned his name when he…

"Hey, you’ve got it bad. You really do." Eric was looking at him in a fatherly way. "Why don’t you give her a call?"

Jim’s face reddened—he hadn’t realized what an open book he was to his boss and friend. He glanced at his watch. "She’s just getting to class right now," he admitted, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Ha, I knew it! I was young once too, you know." The older man let out a guffaw. "Don’t feel bad, son. After all, women are what make life worth living!"

Trixie is what makes my life worth living. The thought was so startling, so unexpected that he almost choked on his last sip of coffee. He managed to swallow it down at last, glad he didn’t pull a Danny Kaye spit take on his supervisor.

"Are you all right?" Eric was regarding him with a professional eye; it wasn’t just the kids that needed guidance sometimes.

"I’m fine," Jim reassured him, but he suddenly knew he was anything but.

*     *     *

"Trixie Belden, what is wrong with you?" Honey Wheeler asked as they exited their Nature of Crime class, her third and last class of the day. Her other two classes were on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Normally, Trixie loved this class, an analysis of the nature and extent of crime, including causation and prevention, descriptions of offenses, criminal typologies and victim surveys. But today, she found it impossible to keep her mind on the lecture.

"It’s your damn brother, if you must know!" she replied ruefully.

"Oh no—are you guys having a fight or something?"

Trixie tried to smile. "Nope," was all she said.

Honey glanced at her watch. "It’s 3:30; I don’t have to meet Brian until 6:00."

Trixie felt a twinge of jealousy that she dismissed as unworthy. It wasn’t Honey’s fault that her boyfriend was only a few subway stops away! "You’re a mind reader. I could use a good gab fest," she admitted.

"And if there’s anything we know how to do, it’s gab!" Honey laughed.

"Hey, stick to your strengths, and you can’t go wrong," Trixie said, already feeling more like herself. Maybe this strange achy feeling was just a hiccup in her normal routine. Maybe it would go away.

They entered Paulette Goddard Hall and headed for what everyone affectionately referred to as the rumpus room—a comfortable gathering spot that sported several couches grouped to invite long conversations, a concession stand that served wicked coffee mochas and a big screen TV in one corner. They bought two extra large mochas and found a relatively empty corner. They simultaneously took a long, appreciative sip.

"Ahhhh! I can’t believe there was a time when I didn’t like coffee," Trixie sighed.

Honey nodded in agreement. "I don’t think studying for finals is even physically possible without it anymore. Do you think we’ve become junkies?"

Trixie had to laugh—with her long, golden hair and big, soft eyes, Honey was about as far from "heroin chic" as one could possibly get. She looked at her with appreciation; just sitting with her best friend made her feel like there wasn’t any problem she couldn’t surmount. "Did I ever tell you how glad I am that we both got into NYU?" she said gratefully.

"Mmmm, only about a million times," Honey replied, her face mischievous. She looked at Trixie speculatively. "Now, what’s up with that big brother of mine?"

Trixie sighed. "Honey, nothing’s up with him. I’ve got the problem."

"Are you thinking of breaking up with him?" Honey asked, deeply concerned. Jim, she knew, would be devastated if this were to happen.

Trixie’s eyes widened. "Break up with him? No, no, no, no—why would I want to do that?" Her stomach hurt at the very idea.

Honey was relieved. "I don’t know why you’d want to do that. My big brother is just such a perfect human being!" Her mouth curved into a mocking smile.

"Perfect human being my ass!" Trixie smiled gently. "He’s perfect for me though." She broke off, suddenly embarrassed, taking a large drink of her coffee.

Honey started to tease her then thought better of it, not wanting her to close off. "Then what’s the problem?" she asked instead.

Trixie lowered her cup. "I’m going crazy, that’s the problem! I’m— I’m mooning, pining, being a major dork, whatever you want to call it. Me!"

Honey tried in vain to stifle a laugh. "What do you mean, ‘me’? You act like you’re supposed to have a heart of stone or something. If Brian was in Nevada until Christmas, I’d be miserable!"

"Oh Honey, it’s not that I don’t think I should miss him. It’s the way I’m feeling. It’s…I’ve never felt like this. Oh I just can’t explain it!" Trixie ground her teeth in frustration. "I don’t miss him—I miss him."

Honey’s nose wrinkled in thought. "You miss him a lot, and you’re feeling…" she broke off and the two girls stared at each other. Suddenly they laughed, for no other reason that they were glad they could tell each other anything, no matter how unlikely, or even ridiculous.

"Come on Honey! You’re the psych minor. Am I nuts or what?" Trixie said, grinning. If you’re going to go insane, have your best bud with you every step of the way.

"Yeah, that’s the term for it, I believe." They clicked their cups together and drank them down, laughing hysterically when Honey let out a little burp. "Sssseriously, Trix; you said you had a problem, but what’s so bad about pining? I think it’s kind of nice."

Trixie sobered, absentmindedly scratching the side of her empty cup. "I could handle the pining I guess if I wasn’t also…"

"What? Please tell me. I solemnly swear not to laugh."

Trixie knew she wouldn’t. "I’m just so…I woke up feeling so…achy and lost," she finally said.

Honey stared at her best friend, not knowing what to say. "Wow, that’s pretty intense," she said.

"Have you ever felt that way about Brian?"

Honey thought hard. "Well, until I ‘took matters into my own hands’ as you advised, I was feeling pretty, um, frustrated!" The two friends grinned wickedly at each other.

"I remember that feeling well, but this isn’t the same," Trixie said.

"Then I guess not, but then, we haven’t really been separated. Maybe it’s just garden variety missing-your-boyfriend?"

"I don’t think it is. This is different. I miss him and feel this way."

Honey sighed. "I’m not being any help at all."

"Oh yes you are. Just talking about it is helping me feel like I’m not ready for the loony bin." Trixie gave her hand a pat.

Honey brightened. "Wait a sec! If I imagine that Brian just dumped me for a gorgeous med. student, then I get kind of an achy feeling."

Trixie had to laugh at how happy Honey looked at her discovery. "Gleeps Honey, I’m glad Brian’s not here right now. Somehow I think he’d royally get the wrong idea at the look on your face!"

Honey giggled. "He sure would. I don’t think he’d buy my explanation that I’m trying to help you figure out just what it is you’re feeling."

"Well, it was a good try, but that’s not it either. When Jim first left for school, and I knew he was dating girls from his classes, I felt pretty awful. And my heart definitely ached. But this is a different ache." Her eyes got a distant look as she recalled that time. Even though Jim reassured her that what he felt for her was a million times more special than anything he ever felt for them, she still got a faint twinge whenever she thought about it. I wonder if the day will ever come when I can actually joke about them with him?

Honey looked at her friend thoughtfully. "I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I really, really admire the way you handled that whole situation. I don’t know if I could have done half as well." She shuddered at the thought of Brian dating other people.

Trixie grinned suddenly. "Well then, you’re probably going to lose that admiration real quick when I tell you this, because it’s not very evolved of me, but remember how I started dating Nick Roberts for awhile before he left for art school? I must admit it gave me immense satisfaction at the time when Di ‘accidentally’ let it slip to Jim that he taught me how to french kiss. Mwah ha ha!"

The two friends laughed so hard that several students looked their way, surprised to see the normally reserved Honey Wheeler laying flat on her back, kicking her feet on the ground.

"Oh, oh, oh Trix…I admire you even more! Brother or no, he deserved that one!"

Trixie shrugged. "Ah, I don’t know. We’d never gone out on a real date that was just the two of us, so it’s not like he was cheating on me. Plus, it’s not fair to put all the blame on him. I was always so self conscious about how I felt about him that I did too good a job of hiding it, remember?"

Honey reluctantly nodded, remembering very well. Jim was just as good at that game—it’s a miracle they ever hooked up!

Trixie sighed. "Boy, we sure know how to go off on a tangent, don’t we?"

"Another one of our strengths I believe!"

"I know, let’s treat this like a mystery we’re working on—that’ll get us in focus. Fact, I miss Jim. Fact, I feel achy and lost. Fact, I want to see him so bad I can’t concentrate. Fact, I need…" she stopped as a sudden realization hit her. Need? "Oh Honey, I know what’s wrong. Oh, this is not good."

"What?"

Trixie looked at her hands. "What have I gotten myself into? How did this happen?"

"WHAT?"

Trixie was lost in thought. When did it happen? When did Jim become so…essential?

"Trixie Belden, if you don’t tell me what you’re thinking this instant I’m going to start screaming and never stop!"

"I need him." Her voice was so quiet that Honey almost didn’t hear her.

Honey looked her sympathetically. "And this is bad because…?"

"Come ON, Honey. You have to ask?" Trixie crossed her arms over her stomach, unconsciously rocking gently back and forth. Wasn’t it obvious? Someone as strong and self-reliant as Jim would never understand it, would think she’d gone over bend. Hadn’t he always told her that he admired her independent spirit, her adventurous attitude? What would he think if he knew that without him, nothing mattered to her, that there wasn’t any point to anything? I’d be a hardship—someone who’d drag him down. Wouldn’t I?

"Oh Trix, I don’t think it’s a terrible thing. It seems kind of sweet to me."

"Sweet?"

"Sure. I need Brian."

"You do?"

Honey laughed at Trixie’s expression. "Yes. And I don’t think it’s terrible either." Her face was calm, her voice serene. She was sorry that Trixie wasn’t enjoying the feeling. Realizing that she needed Brian made her feel womanly and peaceful. Feeling needed in return was just as wonderful. She suddenly wondered about her brother; had he closed himself off because of what had happened to him in the past? Or could it be that he wasn’t serious about Trixie? Honey thought about how happy he was whenever the phone was for him, how dreamy he looked when he would return from seeing her. She remembered the look on his face when he found out that Trixie was dating. No. He was completely, hopelessly in love with her best friend. Of that she was certain. She turned her attention back to Trixie, hoping he wasn’t playing the hiding game again.

"But doesn’t it make you feel…" Trixie held her hands palm up and waggled them from side to side, not sure how to put it.

"It gives me a real cozy feeling, a kind of reading-the-Sunday-funnies-in-my-pajamas feeling."

Trixie sucked in her breath; she’d felt that way too, certain quiet moments when she and Jim would have their arms around each other, not even speaking. There was a wonderful stillness about him that made her feel, in a vague way, that all was right with the world. She looked at Honey and was willing to bet that she felt something similar. Was that needing? That wasn’t so bad…

"Hey, you’d better get going if you’re going to see that brother of mine," Trixie said, glancing at her watch.

"I don’t have to go if you want to talk some more," Honey replied.

"No, why should we both be lonely?" Trixie said, smiling a little. When Honey didn’t smile back she added, "I’m fine. Needy, but fine!"

Honey smacked her arm lightly. "You can still be a detective and need someone, silly. As Barbra Steisand would say, ‘people who need people are the luckiest people in the world’!"

Trixie laughed appreciatively. "Lucky. Yeah, that’s how I’m feeling. You betcha! Now go on and get some, why doncha!"

Honey reddened slightly, getting up from the couch. "Well, I wasn’t planning on being around much this weekend," she admitted.

"Ick factor warning. Ick factor warning!" Trixie chanted.

"Call him. Tell him how you’re feeling. You know it’s the only way." Honey called over her shoulder, waving as she headed to her room.

Honey looked so happy that Trixie again felt the unwelcome pang of jealousy she felt earlier. I don’t want to call him, I want to see him! she thought petulantly. She felt tired and sad as she made her way to her own room, a hot shower and a nap suddenly sounding like the only activities worth considering.

*     *     *

You know I was made to love her
Build my world around her and
Hey, hey, hey
She’s been my inspiration
Sho’ nuff appeciation
For the love I gave her through the years
Like a sweet magnolia tree
My love blossomed tenderly
My love grew sweeter through the years
I know my baby loves me
My baby needs me
That’s why we made it through the years…

Jim groaned at the joyful sounds wafting out of the recreation room as he walked past, several of the boy’s voices singing along, if not rhythmically at least enthusiastically. The lyrics hit a little too close to home, seeming to enter his ears and make a beeline for his heart. All he had done the whole livelong day was yearn for Trixie—would he have any peace today? He shook his head at his own foolishness. Trixie needing me. Yeah right. Trixie, the free spirit who always barged ahead with gusto, refusing most offers of help. He loved her fearlessness, but at the same time, it was sometimes hard to love someone who needed so little in return.

Not wanting to drag her down, he hadn’t always let her know how much her good opinion meant, how her unwavering faith in him gave him the strength he needed to make his dream of opening his own school a reality. It is not enough to have a dream—you need the courage and drive to do what is needed to make it come true. And as strong and committed as he was, without that emotional support, he wasn’t sure if he would have made it. I should tell her. Remember what happened the last time you didn’t tell her how you felt? Jim would never forget the desolate way his heart fell into his stomach when he came home one weekend from school and found out Trixie was dating someone. Knowing he had no right to feel bad about it hadn’t helped!

He thought about the card he bought the other day, but hadn’t yet mailed. When he read it, he was astounded; finally knowing what his feelings for Trixie looked like in words. Once he sent it, there was no going back…What am I holding back for; mail the sucker! he finally decided, wondering why stuff like this was so damn scary.

He left the residential center depressed, a lonely weekend stretching ahead of him. Some of the other counselors had asked him to go out with them to play a little pool and ‘admire the local scenery’ as they put it, but he just wasn’t in the mood. He knew he was being childish, but the only scenery he was interested in was Trixie’s smile when she came down the stairs at Crabapple Farm, the look in her blue eyes when she would take his hand, the way she would press against him as soon as the door closed behind them… He made up his mind to call her as soon as he got back to his one bedroom cottage the school provided for their staff.

Jim shook his head ruefully; he highly doubted that Trixie was acting this silly. I’d be kicked out of the ‘We’re Men, We Need No One Club’ if anyone knew how sappy I’m being!

*     *     *

T—

All that talk about "not feeling right" this morning must have lit a fire under my butt, if you know what I mean! You’re the detective, so I’m sure you know where I’ve gone.

Take it easy, and I’ll see you on Monday.

Love,

K

P.S. Call him, ya dork! J

Trixie smiled as she read the note covering her pillow. In typical Kerry fashion it was written in enormous pink letters, and on a large poster board she had obviously bought at the bookstore. Skank! she thought affectionately as she headed into the bathroom, pulling off her clothes, aiming them at the hamper. She stood under the spray, thinking about her conversation with Honey. She knew there was no way she could just call him up and announce that she needed him. As scary as the thought was, she had to tell him in person. What the hell—he’s seen me at my worst and he still loves me! Trixie grinned as she massaged shampoo through her hair. It would have to keep until she saw him at Thanksgiving. Her grin faded as she realized that was another six weeks away, the inconsolable longing again filling her. She finished her shower, shutting off the taps, squeezing the water out of her shoulder length hair. Everyone assured her that if she grew her hair longer, the added weight would "pull out the curl". But all that happened was that she grew more curls. Trixie stood still, her eyes closed—Jim loved her hair, was always touching it, it felt so good when he wound his fingers through it—"Arghhhhh!" she cried, grabbing her towel and drying herself off rapidly. "Will you stop thinking about him for ten seconds? What is the matter with you?!" Great, now she was talking to herself too. All that was left now was to jump on a plane and show up unannounced; then she’d officially be crazy. She pulled on a clean pair of jeans and her pale blue cashmere sweater, flopping down on her bed with a sigh. As good as the conversation had been with her best friend, she needed to talk some more. She picked up her cell phone thoughtfully, wondering who she could call. She needed someone older and wiser, someone who would understand, could help her sort out this mess she liked to call her life. Of course! Why didn’t I think of her before…Trixie’s face brightened as she pressed her speed dial. There was only one person on the planet that could possibly help her now…

*     *     *

Helen Belden had just greeted her husband with a kiss when the phone rang in Crabapple Farm’s homey kitchen. "Hello?" she said, smiling when her husband continued to nuzzle her available ear, making little shivery tickles dance down her spine.

"Moms? It’s Trixie."

"Hi sweetie." At her husband’s questioning look she whispered, "It’s Harrison Ford!"—laughing when his kiss turned into a bite.

"Can I talk to you?"

Helen sobered instantly, picking up something in her tone. "Is everything all right, Trixie?"

"I just really need to talk to you."

Helen turned to her husband. "Honey, this is girl talk—I’m going to take it in our room, okay?"

Peter Belden nodded. "I’ll hang it up when you get there," he replied, taking the receiver from her hand, stealing one last kiss. "This is Dad—are you okay? Do you need anything?" he said into the phone.

Trixie paused—there was something she very much needed, but she doubted her father would want to hear about it! "Um, I’m okay. I just, uh…"

"I know, you need a woman’s ear, right?" He could feel Trixie smile over the phone and was glad. He was detecting a certain strain in her voice and it worried him.

"I love you, Dad—I really do!"

"I love you too sweetheart." He heard his wife pick up the extension. "There’s your mother—bye honey." He hung up the phone, loosening his tie and walking into the family room, snagging the paper from the table as he walked by. He had a sneaking suspicion about whom the topic of their conversation would be and entertained himself with some elaborate torture fantasies as he settled himself comfortably on the sofa, mostly involving the placement of a certain bracelet that would require a team of top notch surgeons to remove it…

Helen kicked off her shoes and lay back against the pillows on her bed. "What’s up, buttercup?"

"Moms, I need to ask you a question, but I don’t know how to word it."

"How about you just give me a theme?"

"Tell me how you felt when you knew you were in love with Dad. I mean really in love with Dad."

Helen smiled. Oh sweetie…"Well, I remember the telephone would ring and my heart would just speed up. And even if it didn’t end up being him, my heart would kind of pound for a long time afterwards." She let out a laugh, remembering how silly she was at 18.

"What else?"

Helen smoothed the beautiful quilt she was lying on while she thought. "Hmmm…well, I don’t know if I should tell you this—what about the ick factor?"

In spite of her agitated state of mind, Trixie couldn’t help but start giggling, hearing her and Honey’s favorite phrase come out of her mother’s mouth. Even though they were best friends, they had long ago decided that there were certain…personal details about their boyfriends they just shouldn’t share because, after all, they were talking about each other’s brother. "It’s okay Moms. I think I can handle it as long as you don’t get too graphic."

"I wasn’t planning on getting graphic! Anyway, what I was starting to say before is, when your father would take me in his arms, I just felt like I had come home, that nothing could possible harm me as long as I stayed right there." Helen’s voice had a faraway quality to it. "I felt at peace," she concluded softly.

Trixie was silent for a moment, an answering feeling of warmth suffusing her. "Like finding the perfect sunny spot on the family room rug to curl up on," she said, her voice low.

Helen closed her eyes for a brief moment. Oh boy, my girl is really, really in love! "Exactly," she agreed, unconsciously sighing a little sigh. She teased her husband about it a lot, but the truth was, she wasn’t entirely ready for Trixie to be an adult either.

"But what about…did you feel like, um, that you couldn’t, uh, that is to say, if you didn’t, if you weren’t with him, that…" Trixie stammered to a stop.

She needs him! Helen realized, remembering that wonderful, exhilarating, terrifying moment when she first knew that without Peter, she wouldn’t want to go on living. She needs him and she doesn’t know what to do. Poor baby!

"Moms?" Trixie’s voice broke into her thoughts. "I don’t quite know how to put it."

"My precious, precious girl—you’ve grown up so fast," Helen said, her voice thickening with emotion. She sniffed and continued, "On the days I didn’t see your dad, I felt like something essential was missing, as if there was something important that I needed to do, but couldn’t remember."

Trixie was again stunned into silence, her mother perfectly explaining in words what she had been feeling all day. I don’t know why I’m surprised—Moms has always been able to do that! "Please don’t start crying Moms—you’ll set me off!" Trixie exclaimed, taking a deep breath.

"Okay, I won’t," Helen said, composing herself with difficulty.

"What you just said…did that, um, bother you?" Trixie held her breath.

Helen understood everything. "It was a little scary at first, but sweetheart, I want to tell you something you won’t learn in college—monetary gain, diplomas, winning first prize, even solving a mystery—these are all wonderful things. But when the dust settles, when we leave this earth, the only thing that really matters is completely loving and giving yourself to another person." Her voice was sweet and serious.

"That’s…really beautiful Moms. But what if he doesn’t feel the same way?"

 

Oh he feels the same way! Helen thought, but she knew Trixie needed to discover this for herself or she wouldn’t be able to believe it. "It doesn’t matter, baby. Being loved isn’t the important thing—it’s loving." She could almost feel Trixie digesting that last statement over the phone.

"I’m not so sure about that last part, Moms," Trixie admitted. What was the point of loving someone if he didn’t love you back? Wouldn’t that just hurt? At least he loves me—I know that much…

"I didn’t always know that either, Trixie. I know it’s a little hard to believe. You’ll just have to trust your old mother on this one." Helen let out a little laugh.

Trixie laughed back. "You’re anything but ‘old’, Moms," she said, picturing her pretty mother who, at 43 was still able to turn heads.

"Well thank you darlin’—a gal needs to hear that every now and again. And sweetie—if you want something you’ve never had, you have to do something you’ve never done." She heard a little intake of breath over the phone.

"I love you so much Moms!"

"I love you too. Will you be home this weekend?"

Trixie suddenly knew what she wanted to do. Had to do. "No…I have something I need to take care of. Give everybody a kiss for me, ‘kay?" Trixie’s voice was absentminded as she pondered her next move.

"Even Regan?" Her mother’s teasing voice brought her out of her reverie.

"Mmmm, especially Regan!" Trixie and her mother laughed hysterically until Helen started choking helplessly, envisioning the look on Regan’s face if she carried out Trixie’s request.

"Are you all right Moms?"

Helen wiped her eyes. "Perfectly all right. I’ll talk to you later. And sweetheart…?"

"Hmmm? Oh no—the battery’s going dead on this thing!"

"I’m glad you feel like you can talk to me. Always know that you can. About anything." Helen slowly hung up the phone, halfway between laughing and crying. It’s one thing to know that your child has become an adult, it is quite another to understand it. Her heart filled with joy that Trixie so obviously trusted her with the important things in her life. So many grown children shut their parents out once they hit a certain age—Helen knew that she need never worry that Trixie would turn away from her. She walked downstairs and rejoined her husband in the living room, sitting next to him with a sigh.

"You were on the phone with her for quite awhile. Is everything all right?" Peter asked his wife, putting down the paper.

Helen couldn’t resist teasing him a bit. "Ah, young love!" she said, making her voice as dramatic as possible.

Peter’s eyes darkened. "Did Jim do something to upset her?" The bracelet fantasy returned full force.

Helen looked at him, amused. "Look at you—look how worried you are! Trixie is a grown woman, you know." Secretly, she found his devotion to their daughter very sweet. She relented, "No, as a matter of fact, I’d say our daughter is about as head over heels as she can get. What’s the matter, afraid she’s met the wrong guy?" Helen smiled—present company excepted, as far as she was concerned, there wasn’t any man on the face of the earth who could possibly love Trixie more than Jim did. The look on Jim’s face when Trixie would breeze down the stairs, the way he’d become a part of the family...Helen knew she could trust him with Trixie’s heart. And soon she’ll know too. Boy oh boy is Mr. James Winthrop Frayne the Second in for a surprise!

For some reason, this answer didn’t please him any more than its opposite would. His tomboy daughter head over heels over a boy? Even if it was a certain red haired young man who, he had to admit, was one pretty good guy. He reflected on his only daughter. Although outwardly she resembled her mother—the same big blue eyes, soft blonde curls and a smile that could light up a room—she was more like him than people realized. As a boy, he’d had the same impulsive nature and temper; as an adult he still had the analytical mind and relentless curiosity that Trixie had inherited in full force. Peter sighed, running his hands through his dark hair shot through at the temples with silver. He wasn’t worried about Trixie meeting the wrong guy. He was worried about her meeting the right guy. He knew his attitude was neanderthal at best, but he couldn’t help it. It was hard to imagine Crabapple Farm without her. And dang it, Jim was generous, smart, deeply devoted to family and friends, fiercely protective...there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for the people in his life. He was, he was...he looked at his wife and was astounded that he had never noticed it before—he was exactly like Helen. The realization hit him like a thunderbolt. Peter groaned and shut his eyes. Trixie’s just like me and Jim’s just like Helen. Oh God—it’s a perfect match!

"Peter! What is it?" his wife asked, touching his face, bringing him out of his reverie.

"My little girl’s going to marry that guy, isn’t she?"

Poor Peter looked so forlorn that Helen got up, settling herself into his lap, sliding her hands around his neck. "Your ‘little girl’ turned 20 five months ago!" she said, a hint of laughter evident in her voice.

"I know," he sighed.

"I was having Brian when I was 20." Helen suddenly looked thoughtful.

"Where does the time go?" Peter marveled, moving his hands around her waist, pulling her closer.

She kissed him. "I don’t know, sweetheart." They sat cuddled together for several moments, reflecting on the life they’d built together. After all these years, I still get excited when I hear his voice at the end of the day Helen thought happily. She opened her mouth to tell him.

"You know, we’ve been married for 24 years, and I still get the mad urge to jump your bones every time I’m near you," Peter said, nuzzling her neck right below her ear.

Helen tilted her head back, her pulse starting to pound. "Bobby’s not due home for another 2 ½ hours," she whispered, her fingers caressing the nape of his neck in a way that she knew he liked. She thrilled to the sound of his quickening breath. "Maybe I can get your mind off your troubles..."

*     *     *

Trixie tossed the dead phone back on her nightstand and walked over to her roommate’s desk, knowing Kerry wouldn’t mind if she used her laptop to go online. She generally avoided the school library at night—an incident last semester still, unfortunately, fresh on her mind. She pushed the ugly memories away and typed in www.travelocity.com before she lost her nerve.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’ve finally gone over the bend! she thought as she clicked on the book flight icon, feverishly typing in her date of departure and return. She gulped at the price, hoping there was enough room on her credit card after all the books she had to buy for this semester. She waited impatiently, hating the little hourglass symbol, drumming her fingers restlessly on the desktop. "Your Travelocity Confirmation number is XWDBOI," she read, her heart giving a thump as she realized she was committed to a course of action. Jim’s either going to be really happy to see me, or he’s going to think he’s dating a stalker!

She dragged her duffel bag out from under the bed, throwing in a change of clothes and some toiletries, her mood suddenly lifting. Sitting around moping was never her style. It’s a good thing Nevada is three hours behind the East Coast—otherwise I’d be showing up after Midnight! She wondered who she could hit up for a ride to JFK, singing:

Anyone could see the road that they walk on is paved in gold
And it’s always summer, they’ll never get cold
They’ll never get hungry
They’ll never get old and gray…

*     *     *

"Hi you’ve reached my cell phone. You know what to do and when to do it."

Jim hung up the phone, a frown passing over his face. He thought about calling his sister, but decided tracking Trixie down was too pitiful; he had his limits. Obviously, she was out having a great time while he moped like an imbecile. He wondered suddenly why she stayed with someone who was always warning her to be careful, who had actually lectured her in the past. Jim cringed—even though his intentions had been good, she had let him know in no uncertain terms that the only people he should lecture were his future students. Funny—I hadn’t even realized that lecturing was what I was doing. In spite of his frame of mind he had to smile; you always knew where you stood with Trixie Belden! He opened up the card he bought, the poem again causing his heart to give a glad little thump of recognition—

 

I am yours
You are mine.
Of this we are certain.
You are lodged
In my heart,
The small key
is lost.
You must stay there
forever.

 

He wondered what Trixie would make of it—they had never really talked about anything as serious as "forever", but he knew he could live a thousand lifetimes and never meet anyone who made him feel like she did. It was simple mathematics—if he took her out of the equation, nothing made any sense! Let the chips fall where they may, he thought, signing, "Missing you like you wouldn’t believe! Love, Jim".

He wandered into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator, but the only thing in it was strawberry soda, which he didn’t even like, but bought because it reminded him of Trixie. Obviously, living in the desert is not agreeing with me because I have completely lost my mind, he thought, shutting the door, deciding he wasn’t really hungry anyway. He looked at the phone again, debating about calling his best friend Brian, but it was just too weird. In order for guys to talk about stuff, they first have to be involved in another activity, like shooting hoops. Then they can casually bring something up. The phone was used strictly for two-minute conversations such as, "meet me at the stables." Time-honored rules should not be broken.

Something to do, something to do…Jim went into the small living room, popping in his James Taylor Greatest Hits CD, hitting play. He sank down on the couch, putting his arms behind his head. His parents told him he was named after his great uncle, but he always suspected that his mother really named him after her favorite singer. He could never get her to admit it though…

*     *     *

"$27.50 miss." The sound of the cabdriver’s voice woke Trixie up from the deep sleep she had immediately fallen into after getting into the cab at the Las Vegas airport. He had given her the strangest look when she gave him the address and she couldn’t blame him. It must have seemed strange after all—a young woman asking to be taken to Boy’s Town!

"Uh, sorry. How much did you say?" Trixie’s voice had a Scooby-Doo quality and she cleared her sleepy throat, her eyes widening when he repeated the amount. She opened her wallet, sending up a little prayer, and was relieved to find thirty dollars in there. Will I ever learn to make preparations before I go charging off across the country? "Keep the change," she said, handing the money over and scrambling out of the car. She sure hoped she could find cottage number five without one of her standard embarrassing incidents.

*     *     *

You just call out my name
and you know wherever I am
I’ll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer or fall
Hey now all you have to do is call
and I’ll be there, yes I will
You’ve got a friend
If the sky above you
should turn dark and full of clouds
and that old north wind should begin to blow
keep your head together
and call my name out loud now
soon I’ll be knocking upon your door...

If only that were true, but the one I want to come knocking is 3,000 miles away! Jim thought blackly, running his hand tiredly through his hair. He was getting mighty tired of his own pathetic mood. Whatever possessed him to listen to this damn CD?

Knock!

"Somebody’s got incredible timing," Jim muttered, wondering who it could be at this time of night. Great, now he was talking to himself too. He turned off the stereo, going to the door, suppressing the urge to call ‘friend or foe’ and opened it, freezing in shock at the sight he beheld.

"Trixie!" he gasped, his jaw dropping to the floor. He couldn’t have been more surprised if God himself was standing there.

For her part, the cute speech she had rehearsed in her head on the plane (she had planned to smile coyly and say, "I was just nowhere near your neighborhood!") went right out the window. The nearest English translation to what finally came out of her mouth was, "Ag!" as she dropped her duffel bag on the ground, launching herself into his arms, hugging him fiercely. He felt so good!

He lifted her easily, closing his eyes and thanking God, James Taylor and any other forces of nature responsible for this moment. "Are you really here?" he spoke in an undertone, almost as if he was afraid she would disappear if he spoke any louder, his face buried in her hair.

"You must think I’m crazy, just showing up like this," she said, her face pressed into the side of his neck. He smelled so good she thought she was going to die. She didn’t care if he thought she was crazy, this was goooooooooood.

What he actually thought was that she was psychic for showing up like this. How did she know how desperately he needed to see her—that she’d been on his mind from the moment he woke up that morning? He set her down, keeping his hands on her waist, needing the simple contact. "Not that I’m not awfully glad to see you, but what are you doing here?" he asked, feeling an idiotic grin cross his face, not caring in the slightest. I’ve been a fool for lesser things! He reluctantly let her go in order to pick up her bag and shut the door.

Trixie’s pulse began to flutter and she feared her courage would fail her completely. How funny that this seems even scarier than some of the bad situations I’ve been in! And I didn’t feel like this the first time I told him I loved him. Why is it so different? But it was different. "I...I have to tell you something. I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about it." She resisted the urge to stare at her feet and kept her eyes on his.

Jim grew still. "Are you trying to say that you don’t want to be with me?" He made his voice carefully neutral, but was unable to breathe until she said tenderly, "As if I’d ever say that!"

She looked at him curiously. "You were serious!’ she said in wonder.

Jim felt ridiculous, especially considering the exuberance of her greeting, but felt compelled to finish. "Stupid, huh? But when I couldn’t reach you tonight, I wondered...I thought—I mean why would someone as independent and smart and beautiful and spirited as you want to hang around with someone like me? Someone who’s tried to curb your own nature, someone who’s lectured you...

"Oh but no! I’ve been the difficult one—the one who’s dove into dangerous situations without a thought, the one who’s always letting curiosity get the better of me, the one who’s..." She dropped her gaze. "You’re the best person I know—you could do better than me."

"No. No way. Not in a million years." Jim’s voice was emphatic.

Trixie was stunned. "How can you think that? I mean, my God, have you ever looked in the mirror? Tons of girls would think themselves lucky to go out with you!" Trixie couldn’t believe what was coming out her mouth. How did she get here? Shut up. Shut up!

Jim knew why she was saying this and was determined to set her mind at ease once and for all. He brushed the back of his hand over her hair and down her cheek. "I don’t care what ‘tons of girls’ think. I only care what you think," he said intensely. There was no mistaking the softening of her features--it made him feel a little light headed and goofy. Her even being here like this seemed like a dream. Only Trixie would make such an impulsive trip; only with Trixie was anything possible.

"Good!" she laughed, her eyes starry as her last doubt was swept cleanly away by the look in his eyes. "Good," she repeated softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes as his mouth captured hers in a kiss so sweet it took her breath away. She parted her lips, a small moan escaping her as his tongue slid into her mouth. She wanted to pull him around her like a blanket.

"I’m so glad to see you—I’ve missed you terribly," he said, pulling her against him. Trixie thought she could hear her own blood flooding through her veins; it made a rushing sound like a seashell. Oh, to be wanted so desperately! She could feel it in the way his mouth returned to hers again and again for longer, deeper, hungrier kisses.

"I’ve missed you too," she sighed, kissing him back, hardly able to believe that she wouldn’t wake up any second disappointed because it was only a fantasy.

"Is that what you had to tell me?" Jim’s exploring hands were making it impossible for her to think.

"No," she managed, the sound of her own quickening breath exciting her even more.

"What then?"

Trixie had to smile as she found her clothes rapidly disappearing. Instead of replying, she moved her hands from around his neck to this chest, unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers, the feel of his warm, bare skin almost overloading her senses. "It can wait, can’t it?" she finally said. She was starting to feel weak all over and wondered suddenly why they were still standing in front of the door.

As if reading her mind, he suddenly swung her off her feet and into his arms. "It’ll have to wait because God knows I can’t!"

*     *     *

You are the flame in my heart
You light my way in the dark
You are the ultimate star
You lift me from up above
Your unconditional love takes me to paradise
I belong to you
And you
You belong to me too
You make my life complete
You make me feel so sweet
You make me feel so divine
Your soul and mine are entwined
Before you I was blind
But since I’ve opened my eyes
And with you there’s no disguise
So I could open up my mind
I always loved you from the start
But I could not figure out
That I had to do it everyday
So I put away the fight
Now I’m gonna live my life
Giving you the most in every way
I belong to you
And you
You belong to me too
You make my life complete
You make me feel so sweet

The sultry sounds of Lenny Kravitz washed over them from the clock radio on Jim’s nightstand as they lay dazed from their lovemaking, the moonlight softly spilling into the room, lending a magical quality to the otherwise simple decor. Lazily content, Trixie cuddled closer, resting her cheek over Jim’s heart as he stroked her hair. The song was sure fitting—there had never been anyone she had felt belonged so completely to her before. Even her parents, for all their love, all their understanding, belonged to each other. They were a unit, first and last, notwithstanding their strong love for their children. Trixie smiled, thinking of how devoted her parents were to each other, for the first time really thinking of them as people, who also happened to be her mother and father. That they loved and needed each other completely was obvious. How unnecessary her fears were! Moms is right—when all is said and done, what else is there? What else matters?

"Did anybody get the number of that truck that hit me?" Jim murmured happily. He idly wondered how long it was possible for two people to lie curled in bed without food or water, reaching an arm over to turn off the radio when the commercials came on.

"N-E-E-D-Y-O-U," Trixie spelled in reply. It no longer mattered that he couldn’t possibly need her the same way—she didn’t want to hold anything back. She couldn’t hold anything back. "That’s what I came to tell you. I hope you don’t mind."

"Mind?" Jim asked incredulously. "Mind?!" He felt like the top of his head was floating away. Now he knew it had to be a dream.

"Well, I mean, that is to say, you don’t have to do anything that you aren’t already doing. I’m not saying that I can’t function or anything like that. I just...oh this is coming out all wrong; I’m feeling much more than I’m saying!" Trixie said, frustrated. "All day I’ve been missing you and wishing I was with you and that’s when it hit me, I guess. I kind of freaked out," Trixie confessed.

"What hit you?" He wanted to hear her say it again, barely able to believe it.

"How much I need you," she said simply. It was getting easier to say.

"Why would that freak you out?"

"It scared me…I just never expected to feel that way," she admitted. "Plus, I thought it might seem like, well…like a burden," she said, struggling to find the right words. "It’s not like you need anybody."

 

Pulling her into a full body embrace, he kissed her, exploring the inside of her mouth like a man dying of thirst who’s discovered a well of the finest pure water. "It’s anything but a burden. I never thought you could ever feel that way." He drew a finger down the petal of her cheek. "And you couldn’t be more wrong about me not needing anybody. I need you too, you know."

"You do? But Jim, you’re so self-reliant; you could hike out in the woods and live there indefinitely…"

"Oh Trix, what you’re describing is survival—something I got very good at after my mother died. But that’s not having a life, that’s not living. I suppose I could survive without you, if I absolutely had to, but living wouldn’t interest me very much." He stopped, his heart wide open, his soul fully exposed for the first time. If you want something you’ve never had, you have to do something you’ve never done.

She was not unaware of the great trust being showed her. "It wouldn’t interest me much either," she whispered, closing her eyes and praying for eloquence. "It’s like that song by the Hollies—making love with you has left me peaceful, warm and tired; what more could I ask, there’s nothing left, to be desired. All I need is the air that I breathe and to love you," she sang, not knowing what other words she could use that would explain it as well.

Jim remembered his real dad singing that to his mother—mock serenades at the breakfast table—and felt almost stupid with happiness. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he said so gently and sincerely her entire body heard. Trixie felt she had the answer to every mystery of what we are doing on this earth to begin with.

She opened her eyes slowly, a single tear dropping from her eyelashes onto her cheek. "Me too," she said softly. Then she smiled at how serious they were being, wanting suddenly to dance around the room, electric currents of rapture zinging through her. She resisted the urge, instead saying teasingly, "But what kind of proposal is this? Where’s the bended knee? Where’s the ring? Where’s the violin player?!" Between each question she dropped a line of kisses down his jaw.

"Since when have we ever done anything the traditional way?" Jim laughed, thinking that most guys meet someone, ask her out, kiss her, fall in love and then come up with a ring. He on the other hand, met Trixie, gave her a ring, fell in love with her, kissed her, then asked her out! "And don’t you think a violin player is a little kinky?"

"Mmmmmmm…"

"Brat," he growled, pulling her on top of him, the luscious feel of her making him break out into a light sweat. He framed her face with his hands. "I didn’t plan on asking you this way—I was planning something special…"

Trixie bent her head and kissed him. "You were planning on asking me?"

"Ever since that day four years ago when I first kissed you, but I figured your dad would kill me, so I decided to wait awhile."

Trixie smiled at the truth of that statement. "Ya think?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

"To tell you the truth, I’m not so sure how he’s going to feel about it now, " Jim said, half-joking. He couldn’t blame the man—he wouldn’t want to let Trixie go either. Ever. "And you’ve had the ring even longer—see, I told you we’ve never done anything the traditional way."

She giggled as a sudden memory came to her. "And do you remember what you said when Ben Riker asked you about giving me that ring?" Her smile widened as she remembered that long ago day when Jim pushed her into a snowbank. When he didn’t answer she continued, "‘I’d never get engaged to someone as dumb as that’ were your words of love I believe!"

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Well, that’s only because you said you wouldn’t marry me if I was the last man on earth, or something to that effect!"

Trixie gasped. "That’s right, I did say that didn’t I?" She laid her cheek on his. "I didn’t really mean it, you know."

"Mmmm hmmm. Sure you didn’t. Maybe I should stick to my original plan…"

She moved her body against his, thrilling at the feel of solid, smooth muscles against her skin, every nerve ending vibrating. "Ask me," she said in a husky whisper.

His voice was slightly hoarse, her movements re-awakening a fierce need that could only be met one way. "Beatrix Belden, will you marry me?"

She simply could not resist. "I’ll think about it," she said, burying her tongue in his mouth.

*     *     *

Much later

"Yes," she said.

 

The End

Author’s notes:

Songs quoted (without permission, natch!) are:

Help – John Lennon & Paul McCartney

Waiting for a Star to Fall – Boy Meets Girl

I Feel The Love – lyrics and music by N'Sync

I Was Made to Love Her –Stevie Wonder

The Way – Fastball

You’ve Got a Friend - lyrics and music by Carole King

I Belong to You – Lenny Kravitz

The Air that I Breathe – The Hollies

The poem in Jim’s card is attributed to the 1st German woman poet Frau Ava – the lyric was attached to a young woman’s letter, written in Latin to a cleric. The poem appears in a Bavarian manuscript dated about 1160. Someone should put it in a modern day card! Any employees of Hallmark out there?!

Again, I must thank everyone who has posted comments in the past. I’d write these stories even if I were the only one who read them, but I must say, it’s much more fun knowing that people are reading them, and even, dare I say it, liking them? How perfectly perfect is THAT? You guys are too groovy—don’t go changin’!

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