Writing this story has literally changed my life. Big time thanks to everybody for their incredibly generous comments; not only did they make me feel like a million bucks, they really helped with the writing process. There was NO WAY I was going to let such wonderful people down! J

Special thanks to Kate for all the visits from the Home Planet. I…am…not…alone! J

"Trixie," Jim whispered, the moonlight barely illuminating the curls that were spread all over her pillow.

Trixie kept on sleeping.

"Trix," Jim said louder.

Trixie rolled over and buried her face into his chest, mumbling something that sounded like Swahili.

"TRIXIE!"

Trixie woke up with a start. "What? Who?" She lifted her head and looked at him fuzzily.

Jim smiled. "Happy Anniversary," he said happily.

Trixie groaned and dropped her head back down. "Are you nuts? It’s the middle of the night!"

"No it’s not; it’s four-thirty. In the morning," he said in his most reasonable voice.

"Oooh, you are so dead," Trixie exclaimed. She scooted to the edge of the bed and leaned down to the floor.

"What are you..." Jim’s words were cut off as a stream of very cold water hit him right in the face from the squirt gun Trixie had hidden the night before.

"Happy anniversary, baby!" she laughed, squirting him again as he dove for her, making a grab for the gun. Before he knew what happened, he was lying flat on his back, Trixie calmly straddling him. "FBI... basic training," she said with a grin, bending down and kissing him, tossing the squirt gun on the floor.

"Marriage...the early years," he rejoined, pulling her against him, his mouth meeting hers in a lingering kiss as she moved seductively against him.

"Aren’t you tired of me yet?" she murmured, rubbing her nose along his.

Instead of answering he started to remove the tee shirt she was wearing, one of his old college shirts that was three sizes too big for her.

"Guess not," she giggled. "Just what do you think you’re doing, buster?"

"Unwrapping my anniversary present," he murmured in reply.

***

 

Madeleine Wheeler turned to her husband with a satisfied smile. "Everything looks beautiful," she commented, indicating the large room in Manor House that would be called by some a ballroom. Gold and silver balloons were held aloft, suspended by a white net that would be released at the proper moment, the hardwood floor shone from its recent cleaning, and everywhere else the room was filled with out-of-season flowers, specially ordered for the occasion, and softly glowing candles.

"It sure does," he responded, never taking his eyes off of his wife.

"You’re not looking," she protested, indicating the room with a wave of her slender hand.

"Sure I am," he responded, playfully pulling her into a hug and kissing her forehead.

"I wonder if you’ll ever grow up," she said with a fond smile, resting her head on one broad shoulder.

"Seems like it’s more trouble than its worth. Besides, we’re having a party!" With his face lit up in anticipation, Madeleine found it hard to believe that her husband wasn’t the impetuous 17 year old boy she fell in love with so long ago.

"We sure are," she agreed, pulling his face down to hers and brushing his mouth with a kiss. "Can you believe Jim and Trixie have been married for five years already? And that Honey is giving us another grandchild in five and a half months? I hate to say this, Matthew, but clearly, we are getting old."

Matthew looked into the hazel eyes of his wife, her lovely face framed with the same honey-colored hair that his only daughter possessed. He didn’t notice the faint lines around those eyes and didn’t care that monthly visits to a hairdresser were responsible for maintaining the shining tresses. He only saw the girl he married some twenty seven years ago. "You look exactly the same as you did the night I persuaded you to sneak out of that snooty all girl’s school you were stuck at," he said with a grin.

Madeleine laughed. "Oh God, I remember that; it was 30 years ago, it was 1970 and we went and saw...oh what was the name of that group?"

"Buffalo Springfield. They were Win’s favorite, remember?"

Madeleine nodded. "That’s right," she said, remembering an enthusiastic redheaded man and his shy blonde girlfriend, the four of them lustily singing there’s something happening here/what it is ain’t exactly clear/there’s a man with a gun over there/a-telling me I’ve got to beware/I think it’s time we stop, children, what’s that sound/everybody look what’s goin’ down.... and feeling like they’d be young forever.

It was hard to think that they were both long gone, and yet, if they weren’t, she wouldn’t have the son she loved so much. She shook her head; life is strange and trying to figure out why things happen the way they do can only give you a headache. "That was some night."

Matthew’s eyes had gone soft as he was filled with his own memories of that time. "It sure was, baby doll. It sure was."

*     *     *

"One of you come and get us if they give you any trouble," Diana said to her younger sisters. Robin and Donna, age 16, had been hired by the Wheelers as the evening’s official babysitters.

Each sister held a nephew in her arms. "You’re not going to give your auntie Robin any trouble, are you sweetie pie?" Robin crooned, placing several kisses on David’s curly head as he chortled happily.

"You better not," Donna echoed, raising and lowering Peter over her head as he shrieked with laughter.

"Just bash ‘em on the head if they’re bad; don’t interrupt us," Mart quipped before planting kisses on each of his son’s plump cheeks.

"Sounds like a text book parenting technique to me," Jim said as he and Trixie entered the room, catching Mart’s remark. Katy started squirming as soon as she saw her aunt Diana so he handed the little girl over to her. "Got roped in, huh girls?" he said to the twins. The large family room on the second floor was designated the ‘kid’s room’ for the evening so that the parents could enjoy the party.

"Your dad’s paying us a mint. AND..." this was the part that clinched the deal for both girls, "we get to have champagne at midnight with everybody!" Donna crowed.

"That sounds fair enough," Trixie said, smiling at the two girls. It was hard to believe that the adorable three year olds she remembered so well were now adolescents. She turned to her sister-in-law who was looking absolutely stunning in a dark purple dress. "Honestly, where does the time go?" she marveled, tilting her head at the twin girls. It seemed like only yesterday she and Diana were giggling in her bedroom, wondering what their grown up lives would be like, each young woman braiding one of the twin’s long black hair.

"I know what you mean," she responded, setting Katy down so she could play with her cousins. "Can you believe that New Year’s we spent at Uncle Monty’s ranch was 13 years ago?"

"That’s enough out of you two," Jim admonished. "This is a party, not old home week!"

"My esteemed brother-in-law is correct; let the revels begin!" Mart added, grabbing his wife and dipping her dramatically. "Me, me!" Katy begged, giggling when her Uncle picked her up and dangled her upside down for a moment before gently setting her back on her feet.

"And yet, my brother hasn’t aged a day!" Trixie quipped, laughing when he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue at her. She knelt down and hugged her daughter. "You be good and listen to your aunties, okay? Go to bed when they tell you to."

"Okay," she said agreeably before whispering in her mother’s ear, "but what if I’m not tired?"

Trixie laughed and kissed her rosy cheek. "Oh you will be. It’s already an hour past your bedtime as it is. And we’ll be back to kiss you goodnight."

"Same with theirs. They’re going to be two grumps tomorrow," Diana sighed, casting an eye on her sons who were merrily romping through the large room. She noticed there was a complete absence of breakable items and silently sighed with relief.

"Katy probably will be too. But," she grinned at Jim who laughed, "we’ll be spending the next couple of days living it up in the big apple, staying at The Plaza. So darn the luck, we’ll just have to miss it!" She pitched her voice so only Jim heard it. "There’s an elevator with our name on it just waiting for us," she whispered suggestively as he slid his arms around her waist.

"That’s right; I’d almost forgotten." Diana smiled, her violet eyes lit up with mischief. Besides Jim, she was the only person in the room who understood the significance of Jim, Trixie, New Year’s Eve and The Plaza in New York City. But she knew how to keep a secret. "Are you going to have fun with your grandparents?" she asked Katy, who smiled and nodded.

"Yep. Grandpa’s going to take me riding in the woods and everything!" the little girl enthused.

They left the children in their aunts’ capable hands and went downstairs, looking forward to the official start of the twenty-first century.

*     *     *

As a reward for excellent performance, some of the older boys from Jim’s school were invited to the party, smugly sorry for their fellow classmates who, no doubt, would already be asleep when the year 2001 rang in. Neil and Ashton were two of them and stood together talking, stuffing their faces with the fancy hor d’oeurves that seemed never ending.

"So what’s the deal. You staying or what?" Ashton asked, popping a crabcake in his mouth and chewing noisily before swallowed it, reaching for another.

Neil shrugged. "I dunno. My mom says I can do what I want," he replied, glancing at his mother who stood talking to Bill Regan. She was already a million miles away from the person Trixie talked to at Soundview Manor. She was living in a nice two bedroom apartment in White Plains that Honey and Trixie had used infrequently, attending AA meetings and working at the agency as their office manager. Classes started in a few weeks at the nearby college, where she was going to start attending classes, part time until she felt stronger.

"Well, what do you want?" Ashton asked, with 12 year old bluntness.

Neil bit his lip. "I don’t know. I love it here, but part of me thinks I should be with my mom." He broke off and looked at the floor. He loved his mom, more than he thought possible, but he felt at home living at Ten Acres; it was the first real security he’d ever known. He loved his classes, and there was no way he was ever going to learn about outdoor life and horses at regular school. He thought about his daily work with Regan, the school’s groom. He was strict and the work was sometimes hard, but he loved it. Regan showed him a respect and friendship he’d never dreamed was possible; between Jim, Mart and Regan his faith in male authority figures was slowly being restored.

"Just stay already. You can still see your mom."

"Yeah....maybe," was all he would say.

Annabel Griffin glanced at her son, talking so seriously with his friend Ashton, and smiled. Staying sober was the hardest thing she’d ever done, even harder than standing up to her soon to be ex husband. He’d burst into the small room she used to live in, dragging Neil behind him, shouting about how they’d be a family again, damn it. She’d taken one look at Neil’s raw, bruised face and the rage had filled her with an almost clean flood of feeling as she finally understood the truth of their situation. She lifted the full bottle of vodka she swore she’d never buy again but did, smashing it over his head, holding Neil at her side as she calmly explained the situation to the two policemen who arrived shortly after. They looked at the bruises on she and Neil’s face, one of them saying ‘good for you’ with a grim smile as he nudged the groggy man on the floor with an ungentle toe. She was sober then and had remained so ever since. But it wasn’t easy.

"Neil loves working with you, with the horses," she said to the red-haired groom.

"He’s a natural," Regan mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his dress shirt and tie. But it wasn’t only his attire that was making him uneasy.

Annabel sighed. "Look, I know you don’t like me and you don’t think my visiting with Neil is a good idea." She smiled at Regan’s surprised, almost guilty look. "You have a God awful poker face," she said calmly. It hurt, not being trusted, but she knew she only had herself to blame. The important thing was to focus on the future. And rebuilding trust was a huge part of it.

Regan’s mouth twitched in grudging acknowledgement, wondering how a person with such obvious intelligence had ever gotten into such a sorry state of affairs. "I never play poker," was all he said. Neil’s visits with his mother was the first serious disagreement he’d ever had with Jim; but they’d both managed to keep their famous tempers under control at least.

"Was it your mother or your father?" Annabel asked.

"What?"

Annabel set her soda down and faced Regan squarely. "Was it your mother or your father who was the drunk?"

Regan stared at her for a moment. "My father," he finally admitted. Regan had a hard fast rule that the past stay in the past. Trouble was, his feelings didn’t always follow it.

Annabel held up her hand. "You don’t need to say any more. You don’t need to tell me that your father mistreated the family, constantly broke promises and never managed to get sober, even though he’d promise it, oh so sincerely." Her voice was full of pain. "When I was drinking I didn’t even know where Neil was half the time. I wouldn’t remember to buy food, let alone cook it. I let him down in a way he may never recover from." She took a deep breath. "I don’t expect anybody to forget that. I’m not going to. All I have is today. I’m sober today. And if being away from me is what’s best for Neil, even though being without him is the worst feeling in the world, that’s how it’s going to be." She held out her hand. "I appreciate everything you’re doing for my son. And I thank you."

Regan only hesitated for a moment before shaking her hand. "He’s a great kid. It’s been my pleasure," he finally said. He wasn’t ready to trust this woman--the destructive effects of alcohol were too well known to him, his own family completely destroyed by them. But he also knew the power of second chances and was willing to at least try. After all, where would he be today if Mr. Wheeler hadn’t hired him all those years ago--a broke kid with a mysterious past, who was great with horses, but whose worldly possessions all fit in the dusty duffel bag he carried?

*     *     *

Meggie and Andy could hardly believe their surroundings--Manor House had to be the most beautiful place they’d ever been in, the music was incredible and the food was a million times better than the take out pizza and tortilla chips that were generally the only form of nutrition at their friends’ parties.

"I can’t believe we’re really here," she said as they danced together. Andy looked so cute in his dad’s tuxedo, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him.

"This is pretty cool," he agreed, trying out the dip his dad had showed him earlier as Meggie let out a squeal.

"Next time, give me some warning!" she said breathlessly, but her eyes were dancing. She felt like she was in a romantic comedy from the thirties.

"Okay. I’m going to kiss you now," he said solemnly before leaning in.

"Not in front of so many people," she murmured, her face turning pink.

Andy grinned; she dove into situations that would make most adults pause, and yet she had a shy side that was so completely endearing it made his heart catch every time. "It’s New Year’s Eve darlin’. Look around--everybody’s either kissing somebody or just about to kiss somebody!"

She glanced around and had to admit he had a point. She’d never seen so many happy people in one place. Her gaze fell on her parents, dancing across the room and she began to laugh; they were making out like a couple of teenagers! Just like them...

"All right, kiss away. But no groping!"

*     *     *

"This band is great," Joeanne said enthusiastically as she and Dan swayed to the music. Mr. Wheeler had hired a full big band orchestra who were in the middle of playing an old Billie Holliday tune.

Them that’s got shall have
them that’s not shall lose
so the bible says
and it still is news
mama may have, papa may have
but God bless the child that’s got his own, that’s got his own

Yes the strong get s’more
while the weak ones fade
empty pockets don’t ever make the grade
mama may have, papa may have
but God bless the child that’s got his own, that’s got his own

"Yeah. Mr. and Mrs. W. know how to throw a party, that’s for sure," he said, holding her close and breathing in the light scent of her perfume. "But damn, this has GOT to be one of the most depressing songs I have ever heard."

"You’re a good dancer. I might have known," Joeanne murmured, closing her eyes as the music became a part of her.

"Arthur Murray, ten E Z lessons," Dan quipped. "And what do you mean ‘you might have known’?"

But Joeanne wouldn’t answer him, merely turning red.

Dan was silent for a beat before understanding filled him and he laughed. "And I thought you were a nice girl!" he said teasingly, brushing her cheek with his. "Even if you are a meddler. I mean let’s face it, you put Trixie to shame!"

Joeanne pulled back and looked at him askance. "I thought you were glad I..." The rest of her words were cut off as Dan kissed her.

"I’m just kidding, honey. Did anybody ever tell you you’re too serious?"

Joeanne’s face fell before she could stop it. "Yes," she said softly.

Dan understood and his face darkened. "Well, I happen to like a girl who has a serious side. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit on the intense side myself."

Joeanne laughed ruefully. "Why no, I hadn’t noticed at all!" He’d kept his word and stayed away from Richard, but since she never mentioned the telephone, he found his number, called him and in the deadliest tone of voice, informed him that if he ever came near Joeanne again, he was going to remove his spleen and shove it up his left nostril. They hadn’t seen or heard from him since. And Dan’s black moods were something she was starting to get used to. But they never lasted long, and she was usually able to snap him out of them pretty quickly. The song ended and they drifted towards the buffet table.

"Dan, seriously. You aren’t mad that I sent those tapes to her, are you?"

"For the last time, no. I was a little upset at first because I don’t share my dad’s music with many people. But after I thought about it for awhile, I realized I was being selfish. After all, it was my dad’s dream to have the whole world hear his music. And now, maybe they will." Joeanne had sent the tapes to one of her friends on the Tim Mangan website, knowing that she had ties to a producer in New York. He loved the music too, and he and Dan were currently in negotiations; if all went as expected, the CD would come out in the Spring.

"Good. The last thing I want is to hurt you," she said sincerely. They opened the glass sliding door that led out to the atrium, welcoming the fresh cold air after the warmth of the packed room.

"I know. And you know the coolest part? That my own father is helping me return to school. The advance is more than enough to pay for the first year. And if it takes off, there’ll be even more," Dan said as they stepped outside. He looked at Joeanne; she looked so beautiful in her red, glittery gown. "And I owe it all to you. And your crazy internet friends, I suppose!" The look he gave her interrupted her normal blood flow, causing her to feel light headed. They’d never discussed their relationship after she asked if he was her boyfriend and he answered yes. She supposed somebody had to go first, but she was afraid if he didn’t feel the same she’d never survive.

"Is something wrong?" Dan continued, wondering at the look on her face. He wondered if tonight was a good time to tell her. He hadn’t wanted to scare her off, but there was no way he could continue unless he knew where he stood. It was keeping him awake at night and he was starting to drive his friends crazy.

"No. Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?" she said, casually stepping back so she could lean against the door and coyly look up at him. Only trouble was they had never closed the door, a fact Joeanne realized a moment too late. In what felt like slow motion, she tumbled over backward, landing on the floor, her glass dumping melted ice cubes down her neck as she flashed an entire room of people, her legs flying up in the air.

Dan knew that laughing was the very worse thing he could possibly do, so it was with great effort that he choked back the mirth bubbling in his throat. Joeanne was such a serious, dignified person and now she was tugging down her dress, her face matching its crimson color. "You okay?" he finally managed, approaching her, his lips twitching.

Joeanne tried to answer, but couldn’t. Her head throbbed where it struck the floor, but she doubted it was hurt half as much as her pride. This was the worst night of her entire life!

"Hey," Dan said, leaning down to help her up. "I thought I was the one falling for you."

Joeanne wondered if the entire room could hear her heart beating as she looked up into the face of the man she loved. Katy has the right idea, she thought, holding up her arms in silent invitation, a shy smile flitting across her face at the sudden look of understanding that was filling him.

Dan slowly helped her up, framing her face. He looked at her seriously, the hunger in him like a live, breathing thing and no longer physical. And if he was going to be perfectly honest with himself, it had never been only physical.

He never said it before and it took every ounce of courage he possessed to say it now. "I love you."

Joeanne wondered if she’d hit her head harder than she thought. "What?"

He supposed it was an opportunity to take it back, but he didn’t want to. "I love you," he repeated, smiling crookedly at her.

Joeanne finally remembered to breathe in and out, her dark eyes huge and luminous. "Oh Dan!" she said, after a long, startled moment.

"Is that ‘oh Dan, good; or ‘oh Dan, oh no?" he asked lightly, thinking kill me now, God. Just kill me now.

"I love you too," she said, throwing her arms around him. This was the best night of her entire life!

***

 

"Those two oughtta get a room," Honey said to her husband as she watched Dan and Joeanne kissing passionately in the doorway leading out to the atrium, her voice amused.

"And Lord knows there’s enough of them in this place," Brian joked. He’d almost walked over to them when he saw Joeanne hit her head, but as Dan seemed to have the matter in hand, he’d elected to stay put. "Maybe we should find one ourselves," he said in an exaggerated voice, waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he took in the lush sight of his wife. Clearly, pregnancy agreed with her--her hair had never been shinier, her face was glowing and the curvy swell of her stomach was undeniably alluring.

Honey linked her hands behind his neck. "You of all people should know better than to solicit a woman in her second trimester," she purred before plastering a sultry kiss on him. "Ick factor aside," her best friend Trixie had told her, "that was some of the best sex Jim and I ever had!" and Honey was certainly finding this to be true, as she found herself constantly craving what had gotten her in that condition to begin with.

Brian glanced at the large clock in the room. "It’s almost midnight--let’s ring in the new year with a bang!"

Honey let out a theatrical groan. "That is the oldest cliché in the book." She kissed him again, letting her tongue twine with his until he thought his heart would explode. "But I’m up for it."

"What goes up, must come down," Brian said, his usually serious expression so lascivious that she began giggling helplessly.

"Shhh! Your Dad’s making a toast," he admonished, waving a stern finger in her face and grinning at her when she bit it.

"Everybody! I want to thank you all for coming to our party," Matthew Wheeler began, his wife at his side. He smiled as everybody cheered in appreciation. He lifted his glass and everybody followed suit. "Friends, family; I wish you a healthy, happy and prosperous new year. May the saddest days of your future be no worse than the happiest days of your past." Everybody clinked their glasses with the people nearest to them and drank. "And..."

"Oh Matthew, let the people party!" his wife admonished, kissing his cheek as everybody laughed.

"I just wanted to add, happy anniversary Jim and Trixie," he protested, his green eyes twinkling.

"Here here!" everybody called out as Jim and Trixie smiled, a bit flustered by all the attention. The band took the cue and began to play the song Jim had asked them earlier to play near midnight.

 

I could cry salty tears
where have I been all these years
little wow, tell me now
how long has this been going on?

There were chills up my spine
and some thrills I can’t define
listen sweet, I repeat
how long has this been going on?

"Remember this song?" he whispered as they began to slow dance. They swayed to the music, hardly aware of their surroundings, Trixie blissfully certain that there couldn’t be anybody in the world who was happier than she was. Our love has no limit, our friendship no end. She’d almost cried when she read the card Jim gave her right before they left for the party.

"Mmm hmmm," she replied, closing her eyes as she pressed her cheek into his shoulder. She still had the dress she wore on that other, very special, New Year’s Eve. It was something she’d never give up.

They danced for awhile longer before Trixie murmured, "I heard from Donald Lewis today."

"Really? How’s he doing?"

"Better. He’s let a lot go in the past month and a half." They found out after the trial that Mr. Lewis had always thought that he was the cause of his daughter’s death. He’d fallen asleep while watching her on that fateful day, finding her in the same condition that Meggie found Sammy when he awakened and went in to check on her. The guilt and sorrow completely overwhelming him, he’d let Deborah Lewis leave him without a protest, figuring that she’d be better off without a stupid, careless person such as himself.

"Sammy’s doing great. He says you can’t even tell he was ever sick," Trixie went on happily. And now they can take care of each other. No wonder Mr. Lewis was so mean when Dan and I visited him that time!

"That’s great. Sammy’s such a cute little guy. You know, I’m really glad for Mr. Lewis, but to be perfectly honest, I would have liked to have adopted Sammy myself." Jim’s wistful voice broke through her reverie and Trixie smiled, figuring there was no time like the present.

"Oh, I don’t know," she said carelessly.

Jim stopped dancing, looking down at her in surprise. "What do you mean? You’re crazy about that kid."

Trixie smiled and nodded. "I am. But you know, we’re going to have our hands full in seven and a half months as it is..."

Neil laughed at Ashton who was curled up, fast asleep, on the sofa by the fireplace, food crumbs all around his mouth, snoring contentedly. He was so sure he’d make it to the new year and now he was going to miss it. Boy, he was never going to let him hear the end of it. Because, he, Neil, was going to be there when he woke up.

He loved his mother dearly, but the quietly adult part of his brain knew that time apart was what they both needed. She needed the space to make a new life for herself, a life that was strong enough to have him in it for good. And he needed what Jim, Trixie and everybody else associated with Ten Acres had to offer.

"Happy New Year, darling." His mother tentatively hugged him, tightening her arms around him when he hugged her back with young boy zeal.

"Happy New Year, Mom!" he responded, thinking that for the first time in his life, it really was.

His eyes roamed the crowded room until he found them, smiling at the sight of Jim and Trixie locked in a loving embrace, her feet dangling off the ground as the balloons falling from the ceiling bounced gently off them, everybody roaring, "Happy New Year!" He grinned as Jim swung Trixie around and around and around; thinking that apparently, happiness is contagious. That having something to lose isn’t the end of the world, it’s the only the beginning. Deciding to stay.

THE END

Author’s notes:

Oh, and the references to Jim, Trixie, New Year’s Eve and The Plaza can be found in my story "How Long Has This Been Going On?", which is at The Other Side.

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