"Jim, I know I that you love me, but that’s not enough. I understand how you feel about the school, and I have done my best to support you this year, but once in a while I need you to put us before your school." Even though she was crying, twenty-two year old Trixie Belden was trying to reason with her fiancé.

"Don’t you understand how much getting this donation would help?" Jim asked in his most exasperated tone.

"I know it would help, but I’m not sure you want a donor who would insist on you meeting him on Christmas at the expense of your friends and family. Could you ever trust that much of a Scrooge not to change his mind?"

"Mr. Markham must have his reasons for not celebrating. He wants to me to meet him now, so I’m going."

Trixie took a deep breath and glanced at the sparkling ring on her finger before continuing. "Jim, when I met you, your dedication to helping others was one of the things I loved about you. Now I’m not sure that you can care about anything other than the school. If you go tonight, you can keep this," she slipped off the ring and laid it on the bed next to Jim’s suitcase.

 

"I love you," she said and left without another word.

Jim finished packing his overnight bag. He picked up the ring and dropped it in his pocket.

"Trix will come around. She knows how much this means to me."

********

That morning, as the girls were decorating the clubhouse for that evening’s party, Jim had rushed in excitedly. He had spent the last two months reviewing textbooks for the Frayne School before settling on history, literature and English books produced by Markham Publishing. Now Edmund Markham was considering donating books for the next ten years if he liked Jim’s plans for his school. He wanted to meet Jim on Christmas Eve and spend the following day going over the plans and discussing Jim’s ideas on education.

********

Jim tossed the suitcase in his car and as he drove away from Ten Acres, he glanced back and surveyed the newly finished house and dorms with satisfaction. It had been a difficult year, but everything had fallen into place. "Trixie will come around," he repeated.

As Jim drove down Glen Road, he hit a patch of ice and lost control of his car. The vehicle spun around twice before going off the road and hitting a tree. The car came to a sudden halt and Jim was plunged into darkness.

He awoke to the sound of the clock in the city hall chiming three and extricated himself from the bent metal. While surveying the damage, he felt a soft touch on his arm.

"Mom," he gasped as the figure took his hand. Jim started to follow and found himself standing in his childhood home. He watched a handsome redheaded man place presents under the tree while a small replica of the man carefully balanced a plate of cookies and a tall glass of milk. He placed the snack on the coffee table and kneeled next to the table with a crayon in his hand. With the man’s assistance, "To Santa" was written on card and the card propped carefully by the plate. Jim watched them quietly for several minutes before Katie gestured to him once more.

"Wait…" he said. But his mother shook her head and Jim looked around the Wheelers’ lavishly decorated living room.

"This was my first Christmas with my new family," Jim murmured. As Jim thanked his adoptive parents for the presents he had just opened, Madeline Wheeler put her slender arms around the tall boy and hugged him. "Merry Christmas, son," she said. "Thanks, Mother," he said returning the hug.

Jim turned to look at Katie, and she gestured for Jim to follow. Soon he was in the cozy dinning room at Crabapple farm.

The Belden family and Jim were eating Christmas dinner and discussing wedding plans while Trixie admired the new ring on her finger. "Last Christmas," he said as he remembered his Christmas Eve proposal.

Suddenly he remembered the ring in his pocket and tears came to his eyes. He turned to speak to his mother, but she was gone. He glanced back at the cheerful picture, but it had melted away and Jim was standing on the snow-covered path to the Clubhouse. In the distance, the clock chimed four.

Jim looked up and saw, Leda Regan, his friend and assistant principal, hurrying along the well-worn path. Although Jim realized Leda did not see or hear him, he walked alongside her.

 

Honey’s off-key singing came from inside the clubhouse and Jim smelled the cider warming on top of the small heater. He watched the girls set out food and complete the last minute preparations before Brian, Mart, Regan and Dan entered the snug cottage.

"Trixie, where’s Jim?" asked Honey. Trixie had been very quiet and withdrawn since she arrived a few minutes before, and at Honey’s question, she burst into tears.

"Jim decided that Mr. Markham is more important than I am," she managed to say to the startled group.

"Oh, Trixie!" was all Honey said as she noticed her best friend’s bare hand and remembered bits of the argument that morning.

"I’m sorry," said Leda sitting beside the girl. "He’s changed so much. It was so good working with Jim at first, but lately…"

"He doesn’t make time for any of us," Brian said sadly to Regan and Dan. "Not even Trixie. He is my best friend, but I’m glad Trixie finally got fed up with the way he is acting."

Jim could almost feel the anger radiating from the group. Feeling lost and lonely, he started the long walk to Ten Acres. In the distance the clock chimed five.

Jim saw a small girl waiting for him and the foot of his driveway. She was about five and looked startlingly like Trixie except for her light red curls.

"Why she looks like she could be our daughter," Jim said to himself. When she looked up at him he was shocked at the sadness in her blue eyes.

 

She tucked her tiny hand into his, and walked up the drive and entered his newly finished house. Jim heard Christmas music playing and when he looked into his study he saw himself working busily at his desk. He paused for a moment when the phone rang but did not answer it.

"You have reached the office of Jim Frayne, I am not available, but if you will leave a brief message, I will return your call."

"Jim, it’s Honey. I know you are there. Please answer. It’s Christmas Eve and I know you are busy, but I wish you would come to dinner. Please call me."

"…next year we all will be together…"

A moment later, the phone rang again. "Jim, it’s Trix. I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas for old times’ sake. Please come for dinner for Honey and your parents’ sake. All the children miss their Uncle Jim."

"…hang a shining star upon the highest bough! And have yourself a merry little Christmas now."

Jim stood up from the desk snapped the radio off. He then turned off the volume on the answering machine. He sat down again and resumed his work.

"Where’s Trixie?" Jim asked the child. Seconds later, Jim was looking at the Bob-Whites gathered in the dinning room of the Manor House. Dan was seated next to Trixie. Jim watched Dan put his arm possessively around Trixie and felt a pang of jealously as she kissed Dan.

"I’ve seen enough," Jim shouted.

As the clock chimed six, Jim awoke with a start. He climbed out of the wreckage that had been his car and stamped his feet to warm them. He was less than half a mile from the clubhouse and in spite of his raging headache, Jim ran most of the way.

"What happened to you?" gasped Honey looking at her brother with concern.

"I just got some sense knocked into me," he replied cryptically. "We need to talk," he said looking at Trixie with pleading eyes.

Trixie grabbed her jacket and followed him to the door. Once outside, he began speaking. "Trixie, I want to be able to do some good to repay for all the positive things that have happened to me in the last few years. But I don’t want to lose you or my friends. I’m sorry I haven’t been putting you first. The love of my family and friends is the best gift I could ever get and I don’t want to ruin that."

Trixie flung her arms around Jim and kissed him passionately. Jim heard a giggle and looked over Trixie’s shoulder. The little girl stood watching them but the sadness was gone from her face. She blew a kiss to him and turned and ran into the woods.

The End

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