Hello, my little babushkas! Special thanks to Kate, Empress of the Universe, for taking the time to read the following even though she’s trying to work on her own. And a California hug to those Princesses of Perth: Meagan and Janette. I don’t want to give anything away, so I’ll tell you why at the end!
Chapter 14
"So, how’d your date with Joeanne go?" Trixie asked, knowing that only the direct approach ever worked with Dan.
Dan continued driving into White Plains, his face set in thoughtful lines. He didn’t reply.
"Yoo hoo! Ground control to Major Tom!" Trixie said, a little louder.
"What? Sorry. I was just thinking about something," Dan replied, merging onto the exit they needed. When she repeated the question he merely smiled in a maddening way.
"Ooh, you know I hate that," Trixie growled, poking his arm.
"All right, calm down Sunshine and I’ll tell you. It was…nice."
"Nice? That’s all?" Trixie said, her tone making it clear that this wasn’t the answer she was looking for.
"It was very nice. What do you want me to say?" Dan replied teasingly. In fact, he wasn’t sure what to say, because he was still trying to sort it all out himself. They had spent most of the meal staring at each other and glancing away, unable to eat much. They went to her place to listen to some of his dad’s music and ended up talking until it was almost light again. Realizing that they were both starved, they went to an all night diner, pigging out on cheese sticks, onion rings and other foods that Dan could only think of as artery busting. It was the most amazing date he’d ever been on.
"Details. I want details!"
"Like what?"
"Like…did you kiss her goodnight?"
Dan couldn’t resist. "It was more like ‘good morning’."
"Woo Hoo! He shoots, he scores!" Trixie couldn’t help saying as Dan admonished her to "clean up that dirty mind—what would Jim think?"
"Ha! Jim’s got no illusions about me, believe me!" Trixie peered at her Yahoo maps directions and told Dan to make a left at the next block.
"What do you mean? He must have plenty—Jim practically worships the ground you walk on," Dan said as he turned onto Sycamore Street.
"Like I said, ‘no illusions’!" Trixie sassed back, fluffing the curls at her neck. "And stop trying to change the subject, Daniel."
"Uh, what were we talking about again?" Dan said with the air of one just coming out of a deep coma.
"You. Joeanne. Spending the night together. Ring any bells?"
Dan chuckled; there was no use holding anything back from Trixie. It made about as much sense as building a snowman in the summertime. And truth be told, he needed to talk about it with somebody who knew him for who he was, and liked him anyway. "We talked for hours. It was great." He paused and made another turn. "I’m just kind of worried that, well, she just broke up with somebody a few months ago, a law professor…"
Trixie was incredulous as she realized where he was going with his halting explanation. "You are not even trying to say that you’re not good enough, are you? Cuz if you are, I may have to hurt you a little bit!" She glanced over at him and saw that he was equal parts amused and chagrined. "Dan Mangan! If he was so great, she’d be with him right? Who cares what he does for a living; for all we know he’s a real jerk." She thought about the sad look Joeanne’s eyes had sometimes and was willing to bet it went way beyond him being a jerk, that it may even verge into genuine ‘he deserves to have permanent damage done to his genitalia’ territory. "She’d be lucky to have you," Trixie finished sincerely. In all the years she had known Dan, this was the first time that he ever seemed serious about a member of the opposite sex. She wanted so badly for him to be happy she could practically taste it.
"Yeah, well." Dan was pleased and embarrassed—realizing suddenly that he really needed to hear that, puzzled at his uncharacteristic need for external validation. "I just feel like I’m at such loose ends, you know? Diana was right—at first it was a big relief leaving the force. But now? I’m just not sure what I want to do with my life," Dan admitted, his voice troubled. Career or romantic! he thought privately. He pictured Joeanne’s beautifully serious face, her low sweet voice, and felt like his entire body had just been dipped in warm, melting chocolate.
Trixie smiled sympathetically. "Give yourself a break, Dan. It hasn’t even been a whole week! When was the last time you had a vacation anyway?" When he shrugged, not remembering, she added, "See? Don’t worry so much about getting a job—let yourself really think about what you want to do. Free your ass and your mind will follow!"
"Here we are," Dan commented, pulling in front of a small, well-kept townhouse complex. After Soundview Manor, it looked like a palace, its well-kept grounds and elegant paint job whispering exclusive. He found a visitor’s parking space and quickly parked. "I’ll just follow your ass!" he quipped getting out the car, reluctantly pushing thoughts about Joeanne aside for the moment.
"Smart ass," Trixie mumbled as she followed suit.
"Beats being a dumb ass," Dan rejoined, and she could not disagree.
They reached the correct door and rang the bell, startled when the door was immediately jerked open by an annoyed looking man with dark brown hair and startling blue eyes. He wore a blue button down shirt neatly tucked into Khaki trousers and did not look happy to be answering his door.
Trixie lost no time in introducing themselves and reminding him that they had an appointment.
"There’s nothing wrong with my memory—I just don’t see what I have to do with anything," Mr. Lewis said shortly.
Trixie cleared her throat. "May we come in for a minute and discuss…"
"No," he said abruptly. "No I don’t think that will be necessary. Just ask me what you need to ask me and get out."
Dan stiffened at his tone, keeping quiet, but alert.
"Mr. Lewis, you do know what’s at stake, don’t you?"
"Some nonsense about child neglect. Look, she may be my ex-wife, but I don’t hate her. Far from it. I’ll be damned if I’ll lie just so you’ll have a case. That woman goes above and beyond when it comes to her kids. What do you want from me? Do you want me to tell you what a lousy mother she was? Because I won’t." His face was black with rage—Dan and Trixie could practically smell the bitterness coming off the man in waves. "You should just leave her alone—she’s been through enough." He looked at Trixie like he wanted to wipe her off his shoe. "You must be crazy," he hissed.
Trixie remembered to breathe in and out. "I’m not asking you to lie. I just want to know if you have anything to add that could be helpful. Look, in all likelihood, Sammy is your son. And he came into the hospital six weeks ago barely weighing 9 pounds, even though he’s six months old! Isn’t even the possibility that your wife has something to do with his illnesses interest you?" She was suddenly so angry she could barely see.
She gasped as suddenly his hand shot out and shoved her, hard, into Dan so they almost fell over. "Bitch!" he snarled.
"Hey!" Dan said, his eyes darkening as he advanced on the other man, his hands clenched into fists. "Yeah, you better run!" he said as the man ducked back inside and slammed the door.
For some reason this struck Trixie as absolutely hilarious and she had to bend over and clutch her stomach as she laughed and laughed. The events of the day caught up with her in a rush and she found that she was unable to straighten up or stop the gasping laughs for a full minute.
"Trix? You okay?" Dan asked, laying a hand on her back.
Trixie slowly straightened, taking deep breaths. "I’m okay, can’t a girl have a complete nervous breakdown?"
Dan grinned at her in relief. "Sure thing, babe. Whatever you say."
Trixie rubbed her upper arm and hoped a bruise didn’t form. "I think it’s safe to assume that Joeanne can consider Mr. Lewis a hostile witness." She and Dan’s eyes met as the idea occurred to both of them.
"Do you think he…" Dan began.
"There’s that possibility," Trixie said grimly, staring at the closed door. She thought of the lump on Meggie’s jaw and Mr. Lewis’ rage and shuddered.
"Let’s get out of here," Dan said, his face tightening, "before I get the uncontrollable urge to pick this guy’s lock and pound on him." The fact that Trixie could defend herself was irrelevant—Dan was sure there was a special corner in Hell reserved for men who hurt women, and his fist itched to punch this guy in the face.
Trixie nodded; she felt the same way and could feel the corresponding energy drain throughout her limbs. "My hero," she mock-sighed, batting her sandy lashes.
"Shall we?" He crooked his arm at her and they walked to an address a few houses over.
Behind the door, Donald Lewis stood tensely, wondering why they didn’t walk away and leave him be. He didn’t expect any happiness, but he could damn well have some peace and quiet couldn’t he? Was that too much to ask? He felt his lips draw back in a obscene semblance of a smile. He honestly didn’t think he could take anymore and was relieved when he finally heard their fading footsteps.
Although there was no shoving or name calling, the neighbor was just as unfriendly as Mr. Lewis had been, declaring that Trixie was crazy if she thought a loving mother like Deborah Lewis could possibly be responsible for harming her own child.
Trixie was deep in thought as they drove to Small World Pre School to pick Katy up, the rusty orange light of the afternoon sun making her aware of the headache pulsing behind her eyes. "Dan," she began in that slow thoughtful way he knew meant she was onto something. "Dan, doesn’t it strike you as odd that the neighbor thinks of her as a loving mother?"
"Yeah, knowing what I know," he replied, lowering the visor against the glare.
Trixie shook her head. "No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, it seems like she’s seen her in action. But Sammy was born after Deborah Lewis left her husband. So how could she?" She suddenly bolted upright, gasping as the thought came to her. "Dan! Lewis said ‘that woman goes above and beyond when it comes to her kids’. Kidssss," she said, stressing the plural.
"Hey yeah! What do you think it means?" Dan asked, his voice as excited as hers.
"I don’t know, but I have a feeling it might be really important." She found her cell phone and quickly called Honey at the office, where she’d gone to wade through all the messages that had piled up since they took this case. Honey agreed that it was worth looking into and that she’d call Joeanne right away.
Trixie disconnected the call and immediately punched in a familiar number, tapping her knee impatiently. She was just about to give up when a male voice answered in a rush. "I’m on the way, baby—I’m literally out the door."
Trixie smiled. "Oooh, sweet stud. This is just all too much!"
There was a long pause, then—"Frayne?"
"Yeah, Coop—real professional!" Trixie admonished, speaking to her former colleague from her days with the White Plains FBI Office. "Got a hot lunch date, huh?"
"Oh yes," Frank Cooper sighed. "You didn’t expect me to wait forever, did you? By the way, next time you see Dan, tell him he owes me ten bucks." During the weeks he helped with the recapture of Kyle Dalton, he and Dan had hit it off and occasionally hung out together.
"I’ll tell him. Coop, I need your help. I realize you don’t have time right now, but…" Trixie gave him the condensed version of the case, finishing with "It might have just been a Freudian slip, but I think it bears checking out. And you have way better access to that kind of information than I do."
"Well, nobody told you to quit the FBI!" Coop joked.
"Yeah, yeah. Considering they put you in charge after Johnny retired, it’s probably for the best," Trixie rejoined fondly. She never regretted her decision—FBI and family life just don’t mix—but sometimes she really missed it. Her year with the FBI was, in many ways, more educational than four years of college had been. Plus, other than her fellow BWGs, she had never met people smarter and more fiercely dedicated to their own than the people at the White Plains office.
"You’re a regular riot, but I’ll help you anyway."
"You’re a doll. Have fun today and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do."
"Doesn’t leave much!"
Trixie folded her phone and dropped it into her bag. "Coop says you owe him ten bucks," she remarked as Dan pulled into the preschool parking lot.
"Oh yeah; damned inside straight," Dan said, finding a spot and shutting off the ignition.
"Dan! You never bet on an inside straight," Trixie admonished.
"I didn’t. He did. So much for that old saying," Dan said ruefully.
"I guess you never really know, do you?" Trixie said thoughtfully, thinking that this was true more times than she was comfortable with. On the other hand, it couldn’t be denied that it made life interesting when you couldn’t be sure what would happen with the hand you were dealt.
***
"Neil, you’re not in trouble," Jim said to the pale boy sitting across from him. He stood up and came around the desk. "I just want to talk to you about why you ran away. And why you felt like you had to lie about it." He took the chair next to him.
Neil stared at his hands. "I just couldn’t stand it anymore. That’s all. Can I go now?"
"No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Look Neil, you left because you wanted something better for yourself. What good does it do at this point to keep it all inside? We can’t help you if we don’t know what the problem is."
Neil was about to say he didn’t need any help when he realized how stupid it would sound. Anyone with half a brain could see that he did, and it was obvious that the tall man sitting beside him was anything but brainless. He just didn’t know where to begin. Or how.
Jim cleared his throat. "Neil, I want you to know that I understand what you’re feeling right now. You want to believe that things are going to get better, but you’ve never been given any reason to believe it. Have you?"
Neil shook his head but remained silent. He wondered how Jim knew that when he so obviously had a great life. He thought about the breakfast he’d shared with Jim and his family and stiffened. Nuh uh—this guy didn’t know jack about feeling hopeless.
"Some people are afraid to hope because they have experienced so much hurt and disappointment that they don’t think they can face any more pain. Rather than risk being hurt again, they simply refuse to hope that anything good will ever happen to them." Jim remembered that feeling of hopelessness, only too well. He could tell from the look on Neil’s face that he’d hit a nerve. Encouraged, he continued. "You know, when I was younger, I ran away from home too. The first time was unsuccessful, but the second time stuck. I never went back."
Neil lifted his head. "Why did you run away?" he asked, interested in spite of himself.
Jim looked at him with understanding. "My stepfather hated me, Neil. And after my mother died, he didn’t have to hide it anymore. He made me work long hours on his farm without pay and when he lost his temper, which was a lot, he beat me." He kept the words simple and direct, not missing the impact they were having on the boy. He took a deep breath. "Neil, did your father ever hurt you?"
"Sometimes," Neil whispered. "But mostly he hurt mom. He…hit her. A lot. And then he’d say he was sorry and everything would be fine for a few days. And then it would happen again." He felt his eyes fill with tears and was powerless to stop them. "I hate him," he finally allowed himself to say. He’d thought it many times but never, never had the words passed his lips. He waited for the earth to crack open or some other catastrophic event to hurl him into space for crossing the ultimate line. He made himself look at Jim, steeling himself against the disgust he was sure he’d see and was puzzled at the hint of sadness he saw.
"I hated my stepfather," was all Jim said. He paused, then, "It was hard for you to admit that, wasn’t it?"
Neil nodded. "You’re not supposed to hate your own dad," he said weakly.
Jim shrugged. "Sometimes it can’t be helped. Love is earned—it’s a privilege, not a given."
Neil swiped a hand across his eyes. "I never thought about it that way," he said, feeling something akin to relief flood through him. "Do you still hate him?" he blurted before he could stop himself.
Jim looked thoughtful. "Not actively. I don’t think about him much." He laid his hand on Neil’s shoulder. "The thing of it is, it takes a lot of energy to hate somebody. When I first left, I needed that hate to keep me going, but once I made a new life for myself, I had to let it go. It was taking up valuable space in my heart."
"I don’t know," Neil said, not wanting to be disrespectful, but unable to imagine no longer hating the father who’d actually made his mother scream, more than once. The father who had wished he wasn’t around.
"It takes time and it takes desire. You have to want it, Neil. And it isn’t easy—nothing worth having ever is. It didn’t happen overnight." Jim stood abruptly, sensing it was time to move onto a different subject. "Neil, you’re welcome to stay—I want you to stop worrying about that. But it won’t do you any good if you don’t make it work for you." He sat behind his desk and steepled his fingers.
Neil didn’t understand. "Work for me?" he asked. He thought the whole point was for him to work for them. He’d been helping Regan out in the stables, finding that he had a real affinity for horses. He liked their uncomplicated, honest reactions—if you treat a horse right, he treats you right. End of story.
"I just mean it’s up to you. You have to believe you deserve it. If you don’t, you might as well forget it," Jim said firmly. He knew from experience that it was the only way. He’d do everything he could to steer Neil in this direction, but ultimately, it really was all up to him.
Neil was stunned—never before had anybody ever hinted at the possibility that he could ever have any kind of say in his own life. Oh, he’d thought about it, but dismissed it as hopeless thinking. When he’d run away, it wasn’t because he was actively trying to make a better life for himself. He just knew he couldn’t be there when his dad came home again. He couldn’t; he wouldn’t. "Don’t you care?" was all he could think to say.
"Of course. Do you?" Jim held his breath and let it out slowly as the understanding dawned in Neil’s eyes.
"Yeah," Neil said softly, filled with wonder as he accepted, for the first time, the truth of his own thinking. "I think I do."
Chapter 15
As usual, Katy announced her willingness to consider going to bed by climbing into Jim’s lap with her dog-eared copy of "Go Dog Go".
In spite of the foul mood Trixie had been trying to hide all evening, she smiled when she heard Jim say coaxingly, "Wouldn’t you like me to read something else?" She remembered her youngest brother Bobby and a certain copy of "Peter Rabbit" that she was tempted to throw in the fire when he wasn’t looking. How long ago that was! she thought in amazement.
"Go Dog Go," she replied, settling the matter. Trixie giggled to herself at her imperious tone. It just never occurs to her that anyone could possibly refuse her. She looked at Jim and doubted he ever would.
"As you wish," he replied with a fond smile, settling her into the crook of his arm as he opened the book and began to read.
She turned her attention away from her emails to watch him read to her, the peaceful scene stilling the troubled waters of her heart. She understood as few outsiders did that no matter how much she loved her work, there was no way she could do what she had to do without a life like this to come home to. And especially after a day like the one she’d just lived through.
She wondered if that was part of Dan’s problem; Mr. Maypenny was a great guy, and like a grandfather to him, but there really wasn’t a substitute for having a family of your own. Her thoughts drifted to her sister-in-law, who had decided to spend the evening with Mart and Diana, and she resolved again to talk to her big brother when he came to the school tomorrow. This had gone on long enough as far as she was concerned, and even though she knew it wasn’t any of her business, she was making it her business!
"Again, Daddy. Read it again!"
Jim met Trixie’s amused eyes. "I’m going to kill Dan for giving her this book," he said mildly.
"Please, please?" Katy begged, leaning her head against his shoulder, looking up at him with big eyes.
"Little miss con-artist!" Trixie said playfully, a smile building on her face as he began reading the book again. She answered her last email and stood up just as Jim finished the story. "Beddy-bye," she said before Katy could say a word. She scooped her out of Jim’s lap with a grin. "It’s better to cut ‘em off at the pass!" she laughed, covering her face with kisses until she stopped protesting and giggled instead. She wondered who was kissing Sammy goodnight and the smile faded from her face. I just hope what we’ve got is enough, she thought as she cuddled Katy close to her, her heart giving a dreary thump. Never had the stakes been so high, not even when she and Honey had to set out in the Wheeler’s trailer to find Jim, who had run away from his stepfather. At least Jim could take care of himself. Sammy’s just a baby. In spite of her vow to put the case out of her mind for the evening, she remembered the vicious anger in Mr. Lewis’ voice and involuntarily shivered.
"Did something happen today?" Jim asked, looking at her intently. She’d been quiet all evening and looked even more exhausted than she’d looked earlier, after her talk with Neil’s mother. He found himself wishing that she’d never answered the phone that day Joeanne called, and immediately felt ashamed for thinking it.
Trixie sighed. The problem with knowing somebody for half your life is that they know you too well…"If I talk about it, I re-live it. And I just…I don’t have the energy right now," she said, her face pale and tired. She set Katy down and rumpled her hair. "Kiss Daddy goodnight and scoot upstairs." She followed her up without her usual energy and was gone so long that Jim gave her an odd look when she returned.
"I’m really losing it now. I stood there and watched her sleep for at least a half an hour," she confessed, sitting next to him with a sigh.
"Something has happened," Jim said, his voice concerned. "But please…don’t tell me. Whatever you do, don’t let me know what’s going on with you!" He gave her a wry look, rubbing her leg. She’d tell him eventually, in her own way. There was no use bugging her.
"Why don’t you tell me how it went with Neil instead?" she asked, smiling wanly. "Okay?" She hoped it went well—her nerves were almost at the breaking point, and she really needed to hear something good. This case was getting under her skin more than any she had ever worked on.
He regarded her for a moment before answering. "It wasn’t exactly the ending of ‘Ordinary People’, but he opened up quite a bit." He gave her the gist of his conversation with Neil, Trixie nodding sadly when he confirmed what she’d already suspected—that his father had physically abused him as well.
"I could tell he was relieved that he wasn’t the only one who had ever felt that way," Jim said as he told her how Neil felt about his father. It was amazing to Jim how something as horrible as those last years with Jonesy could be turned into a positive tool. Jim had found that nothing made these kids open up more than the fact that he had gone through hard times too. "Our histories have enough similarities—well, it really helped me get through to him. Poor kid’s a nervous wreck and no wonder. I remember it would almost be a relief when Jonesy would finally hit me—the anticipation was usually worse. I wouldn’t be able to eat; I’d toss and turn all night sometimes wondering when the other shoe was going to fall." His eyes got a faraway look to them, and he didn’t notice the expression that was growing on Trixie’s face. "Of course, sometimes the actual event was worse. That guy really knew how to hurt without leaving outward marks…"
To his complete surprise, Trixie threw her arms around him, burying her face into his chest. "I can’t bear to think of it," she said, her voice tight with emotion. "Why did it ever have to happen?" He’d been through so much pain in his life, starting at an age where he should have been romping through the woods or going fishing or on camp-outs.
Sammy was just an innocent baby, but he’d already been through more in six months than most people went through in a lifetime.
And poor Neil, who preferred to think that his own mother was dead rather than return to a life where words were usually accompanied with blows. How could anybody do anything other than cherish a child? She felt like her heart was going to tear into jagged pieces.
Jim’s voice was soothing. "I didn’t mean to upset you—I never even think about it anymore, unless it relates to one of the kids. Really." He put his arms around her. "I never think about it because you make me so happy," he whispered in her ear. "Don’t you know that? It wasn’t the beatings that really hurt me; it was being alone."
He laid his cheek on top of her curls. "Besides, I’d go through a lot worse if I knew that you and Katy were waiting for me at the end of it." He meant for his words to make her feel better and was dismayed when she burst into uncharacteristic tears, the renting sound of it turning him inside out. She wasn’t the type of person who used crying to get her way, nor did she cry easily or often; when she did, the impact on him was immediate and devastating. "Now I know something terrible must have happened." He smoothed her hair behind her ear and stoked her cheek. "Please don’t cry…"
Everything terrible has happened! She tried to smile and failed completely. "I know I’m being a total moron, but I just get so tired of bad things happening to good people." She felt like she was drowning in sorrow. I could sleep for a week, she thought, her head feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds.
"I’d hardly call that being a moron," Jim said. "I feel the same way and I’m no moron!" He stroked her hair, disturbed at her dark mood. Like her crying, it was most unusual—Trixie was one of the most positive people he’d ever known, and not given to self-pity very often.
Trixie got a hold of herself with effort, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Oh Jim if you’d have seen the look on that man’s face when I told him what we suspected. And the next door neighbor practically spit on me, she was so angry. Maybe I don’t know what I’m doing," she finished in a tired whisper.
"Yes you do," he responded firmly. "It’s not your fault that these people are hearing things they don’t want to hear. A child’s life is at stake. If they don’t like it, tough!" He smiled when Trixie let out a startled laugh, his words having the desired effect.
"Tough," she agreed, straightening up and wiping her eyes, feeling better than she’d felt all day. "I think Sammy’s mother and Neil’s father ought to get together and go bowling!"
"Why are you crying, mommy?" a worried little voice piped up.
Katy stood at the side of the couch rubbing sleepy eyes. They hadn’t even heard her come down the stairs.
"What are you doing out of bed?" Trixie asked, lifting her into her lap, kissing her forehead.
"I heard crying," she replied, snuggling her head down on Trixie’s shoulder, yawning.
"And you just had to investigate, hmmm?" She felt her nod, her sleep-warmed body like a soft blanket, her little face like a flower petal pressing against her. Trixie loved her so much she couldn’t breathe sometimes, just thinking about it.
"Don’t be sad, Mommy." Her voice was so serious that Trixie had to smile, hugging her close.
"I’m not sad, angel," she said, rubbing her back, kissing the top of her head. It’s really kind of cute the way she’s so concerned about everybody’s happiness.
"Then why were you crying?"
Trixie sighed as Jim let out a little laugh. "Good question—no flies on her!" he whispered.
"You’re a big help," she hissed back, smiling wryly. She rocked her while she considered how to answer the question, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to unnecessarily burden her either. She looked down at Katy and grinned, realizing that she was fast asleep. "Saved," she smirked, her voice low. She stood up, hoisting her securely in her arms. "I’ll just go return the wandering weary."
He leaned back and watched them go, his face thoughtful. In all the years he’d known her, he had never seen a case cause as much emotional distress as this one, and it worried him. His first instinct was to tell her to step back, but even as he thought it, he knew it wouldn’t work. Trixie had never backed off from helping anyone in her life, and she sure wasn’t going to start now, not when the person in question was a helpless child.
He sighed—he wanted to help the little boy too. If Jim had one naïve wish, it was for the people in his life to always be safe and happy. His family and friends knew this about him, affectionately amused that by building Ten Acres Academy, he had created his own little corner of the world where kids were taken care of, didn’t have to be frightened, were no longer alone. The ultimate safe haven provided by one James Winthrop Frayne II. How perfectly perfect was that? There really wasn’t another job he was more suited for.
"Out like a light." Trixie’s voice brought him back to the present. She walked back into the room, lacing her fingers and stretching upwards.
"Curious…just like her mother," he said playfully.
"Worried…just like her father," she rejoined, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards. She leaned down and kissed him. "But you don’t have to be—I’m fine. Really. I just had a loooooong afternoon. It’s a real drag being told you must be crazy more than once in one day!" Plus being shoved and called the b-word is no picnic either. She wisely decided not to mention that part, knowing how much it would upset him.
Jim smiled at her. "Does that mean being told once a day is acceptable?"
"Oh sure!"
His tone changed. "I would never tell you not to help somebody. But Trix…" he paused, locking his gaze on her. "Please be careful."
She promised that she would, knowing that he wasn’t talking about the kind of careful that kept you from physical harm but rather a much deeper, more serious kind of trouble.
Chapter 16
I’ve called you so many times today
And I guess it’s all true what your girlfriends say
That you don’t ever want to see me again
And your brother’s gonna kill me and he’s six feet ten!
--The Police
"Must be all the fresh air and exercise," Brian said, closing his bag with a snap, "because other than a couple of minor colds, everybody is just fine. I’d have the Neil take these multi vitamins for a while though. His tongue looked terrible, and he’s a little underweight for his height." Vitamin deficiencies always show up in the tongue, and Brian could tell that Neil hadn’t been eating regularly before coming to the school. He tossed the bottle to Jim, who caught it easily.
"He’ll be all right though, won’t he?" Jim asked. The two men stood in the school’s examination room, which was adjacent to a few rooms that were used anytime a student had an illness that was contagious. Luckily, the rooms were seldom used, and so far, for nothing more serious than one bad case of Bronchitis.
"Oh sure—it’s not serious," Brian assured him.
Jim’s anger had completely dissolved when he saw the unmistakable signs of misery in his best friend’s face, and now he felt compelled to ask, "What’s going on with you and Honey? I know it’s none of my business, but…"
"Look, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t want to talk about it." Brian had entered Ten Acres Academy that morning with more that a little trepidation and was relieved when Jim greeted him as if nothing was wrong. An argument with his hot-tempered brother-in-law was not something he even remotely had the energy, or heart, for.
"You’ve got to talk about it. You can’t just go on like this. She’s left you for God’s sake," Jim exclaimed, stunned at the flat way Brian was speaking. He’d never seen him like this, so devoid of animation, so…devastated.
"Don’t you think I know that?" Brian snapped. "It’s a little hard to talk about it when somebody won’t answer her phone and hangs up on me when I finally do get through!" The surprised look on Jim’s face deflated his momentary flare of wrath and he quickly added. "I can’t really blame her. I, uh, said something pretty bad. And I haven’t exactly been Mr. Wonderful these past couple of months."
Jim could tell from Brian’s bleak tone that he was genuinely sorry. "I guess I’ll skip the part where I slug you for making my sister feel bad," he said with a weak grin.
Brian let out an ironic laugh. "Believe me, nothing you could do to me could possible feel worse than being without Honey this past week."
"It’s been bad?" Jim asked, already knowing the answer.
"It’s been complete and utter shit," Brian replied frankly.
"I’m sorry—I wish there was something I could do." Jim glanced at his watch and frowned. "I have to get to class. Call me later if you want to, okay buddy?" He passed Trixie as he exited the room, whispering "good luck!" as he went by, happy to see that a good night’s sleep had restored her usual vitality and positive outlook.
"Hey, big brother," Trixie said as she came into the room. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping, shadows pooling under his dark eyes, so like their father’s. Her heart went out to him.
"Hey Trix," he responded, shifting hid doctor’s bag from the right hand to the left. "How’s…everything?" He wasn’t surprised to see his only sister and didn’t bother asking her what she was doing at the school this time of day.
Trixie despised small talk, wasn’t good at it, found it to mostly be a waste of time. "Honey’s miserable and so are you," she answered, not unkindly.
He nodded but didn’t say anything. "What has she told you?" he finally said, opening and closing his bag absentmindedly.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Nope. She doesn’t want to talk about it and I have to respect that." Trixie paused, a small smile appearing. "But you’re just my brother. What the hell is going on?" Her tone was light, but her eyes were serious. "I know something hasn’t been right for awhile—Honey’s been upset for weeks."
Brian’s face tightened. "She has?" Guild flooded him; he’d been so wrapped up in his own mental anguish he hadn’t noticed. You idiot; of course she’s been upset. Every time she’s tried to talk to you about starting a family you’ve changed the subject. Then when you finally do talk about it, what do you say? Terrible, horrible things…he groaned inwardly.
Trixie watched the dark play of emotions that moved across his features, feeling a wave of feeling for this quiet older brother she loved so much. "She’s been very distracted and moody lately," she explained. Suddenly she brightened. "Hey! Maybe she’s…"
"No." It was only one word, but the sharp way he said it sent an unpleasant thrill through her. She knew without asking that it had something to do with why Honey was living in her guest room and not with her husband. Gleeps, was he not able to have children? Was that what this was all about? Trixie felt like ice water had entered her veins.
"I’m sorry," Trixie said quietly. Then—"Oh Brian, won’t you tell me what’s wrong? I love you guys; I want to help!"
Brian smiled at his sister’s outburst—it was so typically Trixie. "I love you too, but you can’t help. Not with this anyway." He paced restlessly, running a hand through his dark wavy hair. "Honey’s upset because…because I don’t want to have children." There, he’d said it.
Trixie’s mouth fell open. It was the last thing she expected him to say.
"And we got into a fight about it and I said something really mean, something I’d give my life not to have said," he continued, his face a study in misery.
Didn’t want to have children? My God… "Oh Brian," was all she could say. Sweet, serious, dependable Brian, who would make an unbelievably wonderful Dad. Inconceivable!
"Yeah," he said sadly.
"One thing at a time. You can say you’re sorry for whatever it is you said. Honey is not the unforgiving type," Trixie said firmly.
"I don’t know…it was pretty bad."
"Even so." Trixie thought about some of the things she’d said in the heat of anger over the years. She’d learned to control her temper since she was a teen, but it seemed like she averaged a few classic foot-in-the-mouth moments every year. "As for the other thing; Brian, I…well, I can’t believe it. I’m sorry, but it doesn’t seem possible that you feel that way!"
"Well I do," he said shortly.
Trixie wasn’t deterred. She could plainly hear the pain behind his words; clearly, there was more involved. Her ‘detectiving’ instincts kicked in full force and combined with her love and concern, it was a formidable combination. "Brian, that’s crap," she said flatly. Before he could protest, she softened her voice, adding, "I know there’s more to it than that. Something’s happened to you and don’t deny it."
Brian looked at her determined expression and knew she’d never let this go. He gave in to the inevitable, suddenly feeling a strong need to talk about it with someone who really knew him. "I won’t deny it, but I’m not sure how well I can explain it."
Trixie took a seat and turned her gaze on him, her air that of someone who is absolutely determined not to miss a word. "Try me," she invited.
Slowly at first, Brian told her about his failure to save Jacob and the fear and worry that had all but consumed him. "I just don’t think I could handle it if we had a child and he…anything happened," Brian finished miserably.
Trixie was incredulous. "Brian, where would we be if Moms and Dad felt this way? And are you telling me that Jim and I shouldn’t have had Katy because there’s a chance she could…" she found she was unable to even think the word, let alone say it, and she looked at Brian with something resembling understanding. "If anything happened to Katy, I’d be completely destroyed. And it would kill Jim…God, I don’t even want to think about it," she shuddered.
She stood up and began to pace. "But Brian, I can’t imagine our lives without her. Oh my God, I look at her sometimes and I can’t even believe it. I mean, here’s this walking, talking, breathing—to use one of Mart’s words—manifestation of our love. You know? She’s both of us—our love made her. It’s just a miracle. A total miracle." Trixie stood in front of him, speaking earnestly. "You don’t want to miss out on that just because of something that may or may not happen!" She gulped and continued, "Even if something did happen to Katy, I would never, never regret having her. Brian, you’ve gotta believe me. It would have been worth it for even one day with her!"
"I do believe you," Brian said. "But you don’t see what I see everyday. You just don’t know."
Trixie shook her head. "No, I don’t suppose I do." She sank back down on the little metal stool. "How could Honey leave you when you’re in this state of mind? I just can’t believe it."
Brian’s voice was quiet. "Uh, she doesn’t exactly…that is to say, I haven’t…"
Trixie’s mouth fell open for the second time that morning. "She doesn’t know you feel this way? She just thinks you don’t want children and that’s the end of it? I know Honey’s pretty notorious for being able to read minds, but come one; there’s no way she could have picked up anything this complicated. Oh Brian, why haven’t you told her any of this?"
"I want her love, not her pity. I was afraid that if she knew how scared I was…"
"That she wouldn’t respect you? That she’d think less of you?"
"Something like that," Brian admitted. Funny, it seemed so logical when he was alone, but talking about it with Trixie, he was starting to feel uncomfortable. He jumped when Trixie let out a loud scream.
"Arggggh! Stupid, stupid, stupid boy logic!"
"What are you talking about? I must have left my Trixie-to-English dictionary at home," Brian muttered.
"I’m talking about the stupidity of men who think they are sparing us by keeping their real feelings locked up. As if we couldn’t handle the idea that a guy might just be vulnerable. Brian, Brian, Brian—you’ve hurt Honey so much more by not letting her know what you’re thinking! Can’t you see that? She loves you. She’s your wife, she can help you. But not if you keep shutting her out."
Brian sighed deeply as her words became a part of him. "Boy logic, huh?" He smiled crookedly. "Guess I’ve just been a real dummy, haven’t I?"
Trixie smiled and laid her hand on his knee. "I can think of a few other words, bro."
Brian nodded. "I’ll bet Honey can too. God, I’ve really messed everything up. It seems hopeless."
"Nothing’s hopeless when two people love each other," Trixie said firmly. "You’ve got to talk to Honey. You’ve got to."
"She hasn’t returned any of my calls," Brian said miserably.
"Then come over and make her talk to you," Trixie responded. She rose and put her arms around her brother. "Look, she’s just been horribly hurt and angry. She hasn’t said anything, but I know. Call me on my cell tonight—I’ll get Honey to talk to you. I will!"
Brian had seen that look of determination many times and didn’t doubt it. "Okay Sis, I’ll give it a try." He hugged her back for a long time.
"Brian, have you talked to anybody about how you’ve been feeling? Like other doctors who have children?"
"Yeah I have. But I’m just still not sure about it." After Honey left him, he knew he had to talk to somebody or he’d go completely insane. He talked to a few of his colleges and was amazed and gratified to find that they’d had similar thoughts and feelings during their career.
Trixie pulled away and looked at him. "You do want to have children, don’t you?" She held her breath.
Honey, lush and beautifully pregnant with their child. A family of their own. Christmas mornings like the ones he had when he was a boy. Jacob’s terrible stillness, and then…"I don’t know," he said softly. "I just don’t know."
They talked for a while longer in quiet tones before Brian finally had to return to the clinic. He promised Trixie he’d call that night and left feeling more hopeful than he’d felt in a long time.
Trixie made her way to the teacher’s break room and was glad to find both Jim and Mart eating lunch. She got a coke out of the free machine and joined them, plunking herself down with a small sigh.
"You’re still here? He must have talked to you then," Jim observed, taking a bite out of his sandwich.
"I deduce you’re referring to our eldest sibling?" Mart said, finishing up his first sandwich and lovingly eyeing his second.
"Yes and yes," Trixie replied, risking her life by taking one of Mart’s cookies. She snatched her hand out of the way just in time to avoid a slap, triumphantly popping the cookie into her mouth.
"I could tell Honey’s been going through a rough time," Mart commented quietly. "I can’t believe it’s been almost a week and she still hasn’t gone home."
"I know," Jim interjected. "It must be something pretty serious."
"It has to do with starting a family," Mart said unexpectedly.
"How do you know?" Jim and Trixie said together. "Did Honey tell you that?" Trixie added, unable to stop from feeling hurt that she hadn’t told her first.
Mart shook his head. "No, she didn’t say anything about it. But she spent most of the evening playing with Peter and David, and…I don’t know. I could just tell it was on her mind by the way she was with them."
Trixie felt like the world’s biggest idiot—how could she have missed the almost desperate way Honey held Katy on her lap the other night? "Wow, I can’t believe I missed that," she said, nibbling on her lip.
"Yeah, me too," Jim added. He looked at Mart askance. "God, you don’t think Brian’s…uh…"
"In possession of slow swimmers?" Mart finished helpfully, a look of horror crossing his features.
Trixie would have laughed had the situation not been so serious—the two men looked so stricken at the very idea. "That’s not it," she began, then told them briefly what she had learned in her long conversation with her oldest brother.
"What a mess," Jim groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"A complete disaster," Mart agreed. He looked at his only sister. "But don’t be too hard on the practitioners of your so called ‘boy logic’. It’s a grand tradition started on the playground, honed in locker rooms everywhere and perpetuated by a society that wants their men to be the strong silent type. Besides, we guys don’t get as much practice as you women do. We go to the bathroom by ourselves!" He ducked when Trixie threw his balled-up napkin at him.
"And you’re not exactly the champion when it comes to sharing what’s bothering you either," Jim blurted.
Mart looked down at his bare wrist. "Whew, look at the time!" he quipped, hastily scrambling to his feet and gathering his trash. "Bye Sis!" He made fast tracks for the door, making three points as his refuse neatly landed in the waste bin in the corner.
Trixie’s ire immediately converted to humor and to Jim’s relief she started giggling. "How ever did we earn this reputation?" she said, her eyes widening in mock innocence.
"I’ve only got boy logic to guide me—how should I know?" Jim replied. He hoped Brian talked to Honey soon—not only did those two belong together, it wasn’t good to carry that kind of suffering around. Like he had told Neil the other day, it just took up too much valuable space.
To be continued…
Author’s notes: Thank you so much, Meagan and Janette, for giving me the term "boy logic". I cannot think of a better way than to describe it! And thank you to both Meagan and Kate for putting the thought in my head that the BWG men would probably wonder if Brian had a, er, um, little problem!