Thank you times a thousand for all the support I received while I was unemployed. It meant the world to me, and there were days when your emails were the only thing that kept me going. There’s only so many times you can hear the words, "We’ve decided to go with another candidate" without wanting to borrow Eric’s glock and go postal!!

How could you give your love to someone else
And share your dreams with me
Sometimes the very thing you're looking for
Is the one thing you can't see

Trixie made a wish, taking a deep breath and blowing out all sixteen candles on the cake her mother made for her as everyone clapped.

"I’ll bet you wished that you’ll pass your geometry final," Diana said, smiling at the face Trixie made at her.

"Is it suitable for all ages, dear twin?" Mart asked, bestowing his annual gift of admitting that for exactly one month, he and Trixie were the same age.

"If I tell you, it won’t come true," Trixie said, her voice unexpectedly serious. Although the rational part of her knew that was most likely nonsense, there was a part of her that still believed in the magic of birthday wishes. It was the same part responsible for her murmuring "rabbit, rabbit" as she awakened that morning.

"Sounds serious," Jim said, looking at her curiously. Her blue eyes were almost solemn and he knew without asking that she meant it.

The BWGs were celebrating Trixie’s birthday in their clubhouse on the Wheeler’s estate, the clubhouse they had all worked so hard to maintain. Although a family gathering at Crabapple Farm was scheduled for later that evening, Trixie was glad that she had this time with her closest friends. "Oh, well. You only get to make a birthday wish once a year, so you shouldn’t waste it, you know?" She let out a little laugh that broke the spell, the former gatehouse filling up with the sound of talking, laughing and requests for bigger pieces of homemade cake.

Nick smiled at her, looking around the clubhouse with appreciation. He had often wondered about it, and reflected that it was a manifestation of its members—well cared for and practical, yet attractive. "This is really nice. Did you guys make all of this?" he asked, waving his hand to indicate the furniture, shelving and curtains.

Trixie laughed. "Yes, but don’t look at me. I’m pretty useless when it comes to this kind of stuff."

"So useless we wouldn’t have a roof if it hadn’t been for you," Honey protested.

Trixie shook her head. "Uh uh. This roof is courtesy of one Brian Belden," she corrected with a grin, giving her oldest brother a high five.

"This roof? There’s more than one?" Nick asked, confused.

Dan laughed. "Well, I wasn’t on the scene yet, but Bob White lore has it that Trixie here used her horse savings for the first clubhouse roof, and Brian used his jalopy savings to replace it when a huge storm smashed it to smithereens."

Mart stamped the hardwood boards that made up the floor. "And Dan provided the floor!"

"Wow," Nick said, raising his eyebrows. "This clubhouse means a lot to you, doesn’t it?"

"It means everything to us," Trixie said and everyone nodded in agreement, stuffing their faces with Mrs. Belden’s chocolate cake. Which is why I just wished that no matter what happens, and where we all go, the BWGs stay friends forever, Trixie thought silently.

"Then I hope you like this—I made it with your clubhouse in mind," Nick said, handing her the large, square present she’d been trying not to eye too curiously. Everybody exclaimed when she opened it, revealing a beautiful oil painting Nick had made of the five Wheeler horses in their stalls.

"This is fantastic!" Trixie said, giving him a hug. Jim involuntarily looked away, then forced himself to add his appreciation to the rest of the enthusiastic voices. He wondered why after five months, and the fact that he was more or less involved with a girl in his history class, the sight of Nick and Trixie together still bothered him.

"Nick, this is absolutely stunning," Diana said, her admiration genuine. Of all the Bob Whites, she had the greatest appreciation of art, and she could tell that Nick had spent many hours of hard work on it. "I love the way you’ve painted the sun coming through the windows and how it lights up the horse’s coats. And all the details!"

"There’s only one thing missing," Honey said with a mischievous smile.

"What?" Nick asked, curious. He’d taken several photographs from different angles just so he wouldn’t miss anything.

Honey laughed at his serious expression. "There’s no Regan," she said lightly, suddenly remembering about artistic temperament and wondering if she’d inadvertently offended him.

Nick’s expression immediately lightened and he laughed. "Regan gave me the strictest orders not to put him in the painting," he shrugged. "Said something about art being beauty."

"Well that doesn’t make any sense. Regan’s a hottie!" Trixie made her voice awed and affected a light swoon as everyone laughed. It was springtime in upstate New York, the sky so blue it was almost blinding, and the school year was coming to an end. Life was good.

"Just for that, I’m leaving," Nick growled playfully, affecting an insulted air.

"Aw, have some more cake," Trixie said, feeding him a piece from her fork. Jim felt an involuntary pang at the lighthearted gesture and wondered for the umpteenth time what was wrong with him. He liked the girl he was seeing just fine, but couldn’t imagine a moment with her like the one he just witnessed. She had a notable affect on his hormones, but his heart was strangely unaffected by their time together. Could it be that his years with Jonesy had damaged him in some way, leaving him incapable of forming any romantic attachments? Jim went cold at the thought.

"Is something wrong?" Honey asked softly, suddenly appearing at his side.

"No, nothing," he replied, smiling at his sister and finishing the last of his cake.

Honey regarded him for a moment. "Okay," she said at last, resolving to have a talk with him later. She had the uneasy feeling that something was terribly wrong with her older brother, and even though she could tell getting it out of him wouldn’t be easy, she had to try. She walked back over to where Brian, Nick and Trixie stood, making sure the troubled expression was gone from her face.

"I really do have to go," Nick was saying apologetically. He had a part time job at Sleepyside’s museum of art and was already almost an hour late. He planned on taking Trixie out for a birthday dinner the next day, but didn’t want to miss this event.

"I’ll walk you out," Trixie said, setting down her plate and taking his arm.

Honey watched them go thoughtfully. "What is it?" Brian asked her, putting an arm around her and pulling her into his side.

Honey glanced over to where Jim stood, and seeing he was talking with Dan, Mart and Di replied quietly, "I’m worried about Jim."

"Why?" Brian asked. He sensed that Trixie’s relationship with Nick Roberts bothered Jim, but he wasn’t sure he understood it. Jim was involved with other people, after all.

"Something is really bothering him. Has he said anything to you?"

Brian looked thoughtful. "Not really. Although I’d have to be blind not to know that Trixie seeing Nick bugs him for some reason."

"Some reason? How about that he has feelings for her?" Honey said, looking at her boyfriend, her eyes wide.

"Then why doesn’t he just say so?" The minute Brian revealed his feelings to Honey, his whole world had just clicked into place.

Honey shook her head. "I don’t know why he never did anything about it. Maybe because after everything that happened to him, he was afraid."

"Afraid?" Brian asked incredulously. "Of Trixie? But she’s never done anything but help him. She’s been like a best friend to him—she’d never do anything to hurt him." Brian paused for a moment—Jim was Honey’s brother after all, and he understood family loyalty well enough to know that Honey would not appreciate it if he told her how angry he’d been at Jim for breaking his sister’s heart. "You don’t know how Trixie looked when she ran off from our good-bye party. She was...she was devastated at the thought of us leaving. You don’t act like that if you don’t care," he finished firmly.

Honey shook her head again, her lovely face serious. "It’s not that he was afraid she’d deliberately hurt him. Come on, Brian, that’s not what I meant. I only meant that his parents, his real parents, would never deliberately hurt him either, and they left him all alone with nothing but a cruel stepfather who beat him."

Brian leaned his forehead against hers for a moment. "Honey, you’ve lost me," he admitted, pressing an apologetic kiss against her brow.

"I’m kind of lost too. But I just got to thinking that maybe he’s afraid to trust in happiness. It took a long time for him to feel like Manor House is his home and that me and mother and dad are his family. Just like it...well, it took me awhile to feel like I finally had a home when I first moved here. That it wasn’t all a dream and that I’d wake up back in boarding school, dreaming of having a real home, and friends instead of here with all of you."

The unmistakable pain in Honey’s voice went straight to Brian’s heart and it was all he could do not to crush her to him. Instead he hugged her tightly while she laid her head on his shoulder, reflecting again how lucky he was to have his family, his friends, a girlfriend he loved more than anything. It never occurred to him not to trust the happiness that existed all around him.

***

 

"Do you really like it?" Nick asked, as Trixie shut the clubhouse door behind her. He’d wanted to create a small slice of perfection for her and had really sweated over the little painting.

Trixie wondered for the millionth time why her damn, stubborn heart wouldn’t let go. "Are you kidding? I love it!" she said enthusiastically, putting her arms around him and kissing him. She enjoyed his return kiss, enjoyed him for that matter, but knew her feelings for Nick just weren’t the same kind of feelings she had for Jim. She cared for Nick, she loved Jim. It was as simple as that. Not that her life ever felt simple!

Nick looked at her for a moment expectantly, his heart sinking at the lightening-fast look of regret that flitted over her features. "I’m glad you like it," he said quietly.

"I do. I really, really like it. A lot." The two stared at each other for a moment before Nick told her good-bye, Trixie watching his retreating form as he walked to his car parked in the Wheeler driveway, thinking over the past five months they’d been dating.

 

They had been instant celebrities when they returned to school after the Christmas holidays, tales of Sean catching them in the Common growing way out of proportion like those types of stories always do. Trixie was bombarded with questions—some friendly, some merely curious, others downright hostile. There were some who couldn’t believe she preferred the intensely quiet artist over the most popular boy in school and regarded her as crazy.

"Those are my favorite," she had laughingly told Nick as they sat with Mart, Dan, Honey and Diana in the cafeteria, ignoring the stares of the people around them.

He walked her to her classes everyday, they went to the movies, he showed her his favorite paintings in the Sleepyside Museum of Art and unlike her time with Sean, she never felt bored or wondered what the heck she was doing there. And he was so sweet Trixie couldn’t believe it.

They’d sat in the deserted museum after hours one evening when Trixie visited him at work. The scene had been undeniably romantic and they soon found themselves holding each other tighter than normal, their lips meeting again and again until Trixie felt light headed. Suddenly had she pulled back.

"I’m sorry," Nick said. "I’m going too fast, aren’t I?"

Trixie had shaken her head, feeling heat sweep over her face. "No, it’s me. I just…oh God, I just hated when Sean would do that," she admitted miserably. Now he’s going to think I’m just some stupid baby!

Nick remembered the furious look on Sean’s face when he discovered them in front of Town Hall, the savage feel of his fist connecting with his face. "Did he force himself on you?" he gritted out. Oh God, am I forcing myself on her? You stupid idiot!

Trixie understood immediately. "You’re not forcing yourself on me," she cried reassuringly. When he still looked puzzled, she made herself go on, even though it was so embarrassing she wished the marble floor would swallow her up forever. "It wasn’t that he was forcing me, it’s just, well, it felt just like being at the doctor’s, you know, like a tongue depressor…"

Nick couldn’t help it—he threw back his head and laughed. Then seeing her expression he stopped and hugged her. "I’m sorry, Trix. It’s just….oh man, if you could hear that creep with all his bragging. He just thinks he’s God’s gift to women and he can’t even French kiss to save his life. It’s not you, Trixie. It’s not supposed to feel like that. Trust me." He pulled back and touched her cheek. "It’s really nice, actually." His voice went low and the look in his eyes had made her stomach feel as if it were filled with tiny, heat-seeking missiles.

She leaned, he leaned, and this time, when his tongue brushed against her lips, she parted them slightly, discovering that he was wrong. It wasn’t nice, it was fantastic, it was like nothing she had ever felt before….

 

Trixie leaned back against the clubhouse door and sighed heavily as she thought back over their months together. He was everything a girl could want, she valued his friendship and their time together and kissing him was just an added bonus. But was she being fair? Maybe she should stop seeing him, even though he’d never once asked her to call him her boyfriend. She felt her heart sink at the thought, but she knew it was the right thing to do. She’d miss their time together, but although he tried to hide it, she was sensing that Nick was hoping for more. And he deserved more. Why can’t we choose who we love? Why? Trixie thought hopelessly.

She schooled her features into a neutral cast and opened the door. "Any more cake?" she asked lightly, smiling at her remaining friends. She drank in the sight of Jim, home for the sole purpose of celebrating her birthday, and felt the familiar ache fill her, the ache that always started in her throat before settling in the tender spot located in between her heart and her stomach.

"Your mother makes the best cake," Jim commented, handing her another piece. He was glad it was just the BWGs again, even though he had to admit that Nick was a perfectly nice person. It wasn’t his fault that every time Jim saw them together he felt like breaking something!

"Yep," she agreed, forking a piece into her mouth but not tasting it. Once his semester came to an end, he was heading for a camp for troubled youth where he’d oversee the high school camp counselors. He’d told her all about it just last night, excited about the experience he’d gain for the school he planned to open after he graduated. They talked for hours and it filled her with joy that even though he didn’t want her for a girlfriend, he still wanted to share what was most important to him. But not everything, apparently! she couldn’t help thinking. Did he talk to the girl he was dating about his dreams of the future too? She found this thought just as bad as any of her other reluctant imaginings and couldn’t finish her own birthday cake.

She was sixteen years old, and had three brothers, two parents, one dog and a never-ending love for James Winthrop Frayne the second. It was as much a part of her as being right handed. And even though it would make for a long and lonely summer, she had to do what was right. She had to tell Nick that she couldn’t see him anymore.

To be continued…