Many thanks to Kate for her oh so revealing emails, for all her encouragement on my chapters and for all the groovy spoilers. My floor is your floor!

Luckily, Peter Belden had already swallowed his first bite. He dropped his fork and hastily rose, calling out a terse "stay there" as he left the room.

Honey burst into tears, wailing, "I knew I shouldn’t have let her go with him!"

Brian, Mart and Jim stared at her. "What do you mean?" Jim demanded, his face paling.

Honey gulped. "He…he…" she began.

"WHAT?" Jim practically shouted.

"Take it easy, Jim. You don’t seriously think Trixie has gone off to California, do you?" Brian said tersely. He didn’t really know what to think, but he knew that yelling at Honey wasn’t going to accomplish anything. He put his arm around his girlfriend. "What happened?" he asked quietly. Mart for once was completely silent.

Honey responded to the gentle tone and stopped crying. "He was just really upset," she said, drying her eyes with her napkin. She quickly explained what happened.

Brian squeezed her arm reassuringly. "You didn’t do anything wrong. Nick’s her friend and she wanted to help him. There has to be a logical explanation for all of this."

Jim sat silent. Her friend? he thought miserably. You mean the one she may have run off with?

Mart finally regained his voice. "There’s an explanation all right. Trixie’s winging her way to the gateway of the west!"

Brian unaccustomedly exploded as Honey turned white. "Damn it Mart! This isn’t the time for one of your jokes!"

"I’m not joking," Mart defended himself. As Jim stared at him in horror he explained, "Look we all know Trixie can be very impulsive. What if he begged her to go? You know how she is. She can’t stand to see anybody suffering. She’d want to help…"

Jim felt sick as he realized his normally joking friend was not only serious, but terribly worried as well. Was Trixie actually on her way to California?

*     *      *

Helen Belden was trying very hard to stay calm. "What do you mean they’ve run off to California?" she said as Mr. Roberts stood there with his eyes flashing. She looked at Mrs. Roberts who was red-eyed and silent, twisting her pale hands together as she stood miserably next to her husband.

"When we got home he was gone!" Mr. Roberts exploded. He seemed to realize he was shouting and made a concerted effort to lower his voice. "He left a note," he said in a quieter tone as Mr. Belden entered the room.

"But what does that have to do with Trixie?" Helen asked. She knew about Nick’s plan to attend art school in San Francisco, Trixie had told her all about it, but what did that have to do with her now?

"One of our neighbors saw them leave together," Mrs. Roberts said, her voice almost a whisper. She couldn’t believe Nick was gone and the shock was almost too much for her. "They were both carrying suitcases."

Peter and Helen exchanged incredulous glances. Could this be?

"Why would Nick do something like this?" Helen asked. She didn’t miss the way Mrs. Roberts flinched.

"That isn’t the issue," Mr. Roberts exclaimed.

"Nicholas," his wife began gently. When he didn’t continue, she did. "My husband didn’t want him to go away to art school, and…"

"Are you saying you did?" he asked, his tone clearly indicating his disbelief.

Mrs. Robert’s squared her shoulders. "I wasn’t happy about the idea of him being so far away, but yes, I wanted him to go. Because he wanted to!" Her eyes filled with tears when she thought about her only son. Did he hate them? Would they ever talk to him again?

"He’s just a boy. He doesn’t know what the hell he wants," Mr. Roberts said gruffly.

"Yes he does," his wife interjected firmly.

Peter Belden cleared his throat. "What exactly did this note say? Was Trixie mentioned?" He didn’t want to be unsympathetic to the Roberts’ obvious pain, but he had his own priorities.

Before Mr. Roberts could answer they all heard the front door opening, and the unmistakable sound of Trixie walking wearily into the cozy farmhouse. She froze at the sight of the Roberts and her parents standing at the foot of the stairs.

Oh gleeps! she thought unhappily as four voices bombarded her with questions. She didn’t think she had any more emotional strength and half thought that she should have boarded that plane after all, where she could be flying over clouds, the earth far below her, invisible through the puffy, white cloud layer.

*     *      *

--Peter, Paul & Mary

"You could come with me you know. Be my artist’s model," Nick had joked as they sat in the crowded waiting room waiting for his flight to be called.

Trixie had grinned, glad that his mood seemed to be relatively high. "Oh sure. My parents would understand completely," she said, bumping against his shoulder. In spite of everything she glanced around with interest. Airports were the best place for people watching and she always wondered what kinds of complications filled the lives of the people around her.

"I wish you could come," Nick said wistfully, even though he’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t make her regret coming to the airport with him. "Sorry," he sighed.

Trixie took his hand. "Don’t be sorry. I wish I could come too."

"You do?"

"Sure. I’ve never been to California," Trixie said without thinking. "Oh gosh! I mean…"

Nick laughed ruefully and put his arm around her. "I know exactly what you mean." He looked at her intently. "I’ve always known exactly what you mean." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

When they finally called his flight, Trixie felt her stomach tighten. She wasn’t in love with him, but she would miss him. Everything changes she heard Diana say again. Be that as it may, it didn’t mean she always had to like it! They slowly walked to the point where he had to go on and she had to stay.

"I won’t ever forget you," he said, his posture awkward. He wanted to kiss her, but remembering what had happened back in his bedroom, he wasn’t sure he should. He decided to hug her instead.

"Good-bye," Trixie whispered, hugging him back with all her might. Her generous nature couldn’t deny the need of a friend and she drew his face down to hers, kissing him for a long time. "Good luck, Nick." She gently disengaged herself, willing herself not to cry, wondering how many goodbyes were in her future and if they’d all be as hard as this one. And then he was gone…

*     *      *

Trixie simply stood in the entryway of her home as the four adults all spoke at once, incapable of speech.

"Hold it; this isn’t getting us anywhere," Peter finally exclaimed, holding up his hand. To Trixie’s immense relief, the din receded. "Now. Trixie, where have you been?" he asked calmly, not allowing his worry to affect his judgment.

Trixie began to tremble slightly, but before she could answer, her brothers, Honey and Jim came pouring out of the dining room.

"Oh Trix, we’ve been worried to death!" Honey exclaimed, rushing over to her friend and hugging her.

Trixie absentmindedly patted her back. "I’m sorry," she murmured.

Mr. Belden spoke again. "Kids, I need all of you to leave so we can discuss this with Trixie alone," he said, his voice quiet, but firm.

Although it was torture, Jim respected this man too much to even consider disobeying him. "Come on sis, let’s go home. Trix, I’m glad you’re all right." He was more than glad, but it was all he could think of to say. He could see she was tired and apprehensive, and he longed to do something for her, but he felt hopeless. He managed to unobtrusively squeeze her hand as he passed her to the front door, and it was as cold as ice.

Brian and Mart headed upstairs after sending their sister sympathetic glances, and

Trixie once again found herself alone with the four adults.

"Where is my son?" Mr. Roberts said impatiently. Trixie gulped at his expression. "Where is he?" he repeated loudly, grabbing her by the upper arms.

"I’ll thank you to remove your hands from my daughter," Peter said, his voice as cold as ice. He could tell without looking that his wife was as furious as he was.

To Trixie’s relief, he released her, and she began to shake in earnest. "He…he’s on his way to San Francisco," she said in a small voice. She flinched as Mrs. Roberts let out a tiny cry.

"Oh God! I was hoping that he couldn’t go through with it," she moaned, burying her face in her hands.

Trixie rushed up to the distraught woman. "Oh Mrs. Roberts! But if you only knew how upset he was! It broke his heart to leave this way!" she exclaimed. It finally became too much for her and she started to cry, groping towards her mother who immediately drew her into a tight embrace. She buried her face into her mother’s shoulder and let the release of tears overtake her at last.

"Poor girl," Helen crooned, stroking her daughter’s hair. There was plenty of time for lecture and punishment later.

"Poor girl nothing. She probably encouraged him to leave. This is all your fault," Mr. Roberts said wildly.

"It’s nothing of the kind," Mrs. Roberts choked. "And you know it!"

In his heart of hearts he did know it, and it was destroying him. "Nick was all tied up in knots over this damn girl. He’d do anything she said. Anything."

Trixie raised her head, shocked at Mr. Robert’s words.

"Yeah, that’s right. Was it fun for you, seducing my son?"

Trixie gasped, her mother tightening her arms around her. "I think that’s quite enough," Helen said, her voice sharper than Trixie had ever heard it. "I’m sorry for the trouble your family is having, but I want you to leave. Now."

"Boy, the apple sure didn’t fall far from the tree," Mr. Roberts muttered, and Trixie gasped for the second time in less than a minute as her father lunged forward and punched Mr. Roberts right in the face. She had never seen her father this angry before and had certainly never seen him hit anyone.

Mr. Roberts staggered back and all the fight left him abruptly. "Oh Jesus," he said. It was clear that he was wondering just how he’d ended up at this place, this dark place where nothing made any sense, where his family was in crisis and where he’d spoken words so ugly they burned his mouth like acid. "I shouldn’t have said that. I have no excuse," he said, rubbing his sore jaw. Without another word he left, his wife too traumatized to say a word as she accompanied him.

"Peter really," Helen began as soon as the door closed behind them.

"Well? What was I supposed to do? He practically called my wife and daughter a wh…"

"Peter," she said more firmly, and the rest of his sentence went unfinished. She wiped under Trixie’s eyes. "Now what exactly happened today?" she asked.

Trixie explained as best she could, wisely leaving out the part where Nick had tried to remove her shorts.

"Oh boy," Helen sighed. Her parents hadn’t been thrilled when she once thought she wanted to go away to art school either. But on the other hand, if they hadn’t persuaded her to attend the local college instead, she never would have met her husband. Sure is strange the way life turns out sometimes, she thought to herself.

Peter cleared his throat. "Trixie, I understand that you wanted to help. But you should have called us and at least told us where you were. We’ve raised you to be more responsible than that." He shook his head as another thought occurred to him. "And you must have driven by yourself from New York. You know perfectly well that we didn’t want you doing that for another year or so."

Trixie gulped. It was true. In fact, Nick’s car was parked in their driveway. And it was the reason she was so late; the traffic was simply terrible as she left JFK Airport in the early evening. "I’m sorry," she said in a small voice.

"I’m sure you are, but that isn’t good enough. You need to be punished. I’m afraid you’re grounded for the rest of the summer."

Trixie sucked in her breath. "Oh Dad! But…"

"No buts, Beatrix. I’m sorry, but that’s how it has to be." Trixie knew better than to argue with her father when his voice got like that. And Honey and I were going riding in the morning, and with Jim home he could have joined us! she thought wretchedly. Oh woe, my life is just a complete mess!

"Go up to bed now," her mother said gently, brushing her cheek with a kiss. Trixie suddenly realized how completely exhausted she was.

She hugged her mother for a long time, her eyes closed. "Good night, Moms." She glanced at her father. "Um…good night, Dad." He took her in his arms and hugged her so tightly that she was ashamed, understanding for the first time how worried he’d been when she didn’t come home. "I love you, Daddy," she said, hugging him back.

"I love you too, but you’re still grounded!" he said, his dark eyes twinkling.

Trixie had to smile. "Hard case," she said fondly and headed up to her room.

"Now what are we going to do about you?" Helen said after she heard their daughter’s door close upstairs.

"Hmm?" Peter said absently.

Helen folded her arms. "Hitting somebody is certainly against the house rules, wouldn’t you say? What do you propose we do about it?"

Peter rubbed his sore knuckles for a moment. "Well, I think perhaps some leniency might be in order," he began.

Helen’s eyes lit up. "Nuh uh, not a chance. You didn’t give Trixie any, why should you have any?"

"Now Helen, you know we can’t just let Trixie get away with that," he said in reproof.

"No, I don’t think we should." She edged closer and lowered her voice. "And I would be remiss in my wifely duties if I didn’t impose some retribution for you, now wouldn’t I?"

"Mmmm…what did you have in mind?" Peter said, a smile filling his face. It faded a moment later when Helen replied serenely, "Well there’s a table full of dirty dishes and not a single little helper to be found…"

*     *      *

              --Cheap Trick

Jim found he was too restless to sleep, the moonlight slanting through his bedroom window only adding to his distraction. Try as he might, he could not get his mind off of Trixie, his heart constricting as he remembered the almost lost expression on her face earlier.

He kicked the light cover away and swung his feet onto the floor, running a hand through his hair. He walked to the window and looked out onto the soft velvety night, the moon full and dazzling, almost painful to look at. Was she terribly unhappy now that Nick was gone? Somehow the thought of her missing the young artist was as bad as having to see them together at her birthday party. And if she missed Nick the same way he had missed her this summer…

Jim shook his head, directing his gaze towards Crabapple Farm. He noticed the tiny glow of a faraway light. Was it? Yes. It was Trixie’s light. Before he was fully conscious of what he was doing, he was pulling on a pair of cutoffs and a tee shirt, scuffling his feet back into his tennis shoes. As soundlessly as he could, he crept down the stairs and out the front door into the still, warm evening.

When he was standing under her window at last, he suddenly wondered what the heck he was doing. This is nuts—I’ll only get her into trouble, he thought. I should just go home. He didn’t want to go home. He craned his head back and when he saw her window was fully open, no doubt to let in any accidental stray breeze, he softly called upwards, glad that her windows alone faced the part of the large backyard he stood in.

A curly blonde head poked out. "Jim! What are you doing here?" Trixie said, as quietly as she could. She was so glad to see him she could almost cry.

An owl gently hooted before Jim replied, "I, uh, I just wanted to see how you are."

Trixie leaned her elbows on the sill and rested her chin in her hands. "Okay. Grounded," she finally replied dismally.

Jim smiled sympathetically in the pale glow of the moon. "How long?" His smile faded at her reply.

"Rest of the summer," she admitted, tilting her head and pressing her cheek into her palm.

Jim whistled soundlessly. "Oh no," he said softly, his voice drifting upwards through the still air. The rest of the summer? But this would mean he wouldn’t be able to spend any time with her before returning to school. If Nick were here right now, I’d have a few things to say to him, Jim thought sourly. Even without details, he had overheard enough to know that Trixie’s current predicament was a direct result of helping him out. Even when he’s not around, he ruins everything! Jim was ashamed at the selfishness of his thoughts, but couldn’t seem to stop them.

"Yeah," Trixie agreed. She slowly straightened up, Jim unable to read her expression from so far away. Are you unhappy? Is there anything I can do? he desperately wanted to say. What he said instead was, "Maybe your parents will let you off early. You know, for good behavior." There was no mistaking her wry, answering smile.

"I doubt it," she said glumly. She knew her parents well enough to know that they could be pretty firm when they wanted to be. She shrugged down at Jim, a small grin appearing on her face as the whole scene between them suddenly struck her. The moonlight. The one she loved standing down below while she was up above. She just couldn’t resist.

"Art thou not a Wheeler and a Frayne?" she intoned before she could stop herself. She dramatically smacked the back of her hand to her forehead.

Jim smiled in slow understanding. "Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike," he quoted back. They looked at each other for a long moment, Trixie’s pulse speeding up as a telling thought filled her entire being with its undeniable truth. If it had been Jim getting on that plane, I would have gone, regardless of the consequences. "You’d better go before somebody catches you, and I get into even more trouble than I’m already in," Trixie suggested, her voice sad and tired, the temporary mirth afforded by the Shakespearian exchange disappearing like the moon being eclipsed by heavy clouds.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" Jim asked, the genuine concern in his voice making her heart swell.

"I’ll be okay. I’m just hungry," Trixie admitted. She’d been too upset to eat earlier, and now her stomach felt sharp with hunger.

Jim’s face lit up as he remembered. "Catch!" he called softly, lofting an object expertly up to her. She caught it reflexively, her grin reappearing at the sight of the large candy bar. "I figure I owe you one of those," he said, and the memory of the first day they met and she gave him her chocolate bar made both of them look at each other in silence again.

"Thanks," she called softly.

"You don’t need to thank me. ‘Night," he replied, giving a tiny wave and reluctantly heading back to his own house.

Trixie remained at the window until his tall form faded into the night. She slowly walked back to her bed and sank down on it, ripping open the candy and taking a large bite. The delicious flavor exploded on her tongue and she closed her eyes as she chewed and swallowed, her stomach almost instantly feeling better. If only my life could be solved just as easily, she thought as she savored the candy bar right down to the very last bite, licking the paper clean.

To be continued…

All quoted without permission, but respectfully. Besides, suing somebody as poor as me is pretty pointless!!!!

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