Printing note: This story is in three sections

 *Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.  They are the property of Golden Books.*

Trixie Belden

and

the Mystery of the Missing Mystery

by Marys Hansen

CHAPTER ONE

Twenty-three-year-old Mart Belden could see his brother Brian, age twenty-five, on the roof even before he turned into the Belden driveway. (Luckily, he was able to turn back into Mart fairly quickly.) Brian was down the ladder and waiting for him in front of the garage when Mart’s car came to a stop.

"Hey, man, what’s up?" Mart exited the car with his overnight bag and a Burger Kingâ sack. "I brought lunch. How long have you been up there?" He nodded in the direction of the roof.

"Long enough to see that this going to be a pretty big job. We’ve got three layers of shingles to get through and at least some wood damage." He took the food from him and led the way into the house. "How was traffic?"

"Not too bad, except at the interchange. I could have been here about 40 minutes earlier, but they were doing some kind of road work."

Mart dropped his backpack off at the bottom of the stairs then followed Brian and the food into the kitchen. "There better be some ketchup, man. The drive-thru kid only gave me two little packets. Whoa!" He stopped and stared at the ceiling. "That must have been some mess."

"It really wasn’t too bad - at least, not until I busted through the tiny hole that was there and replaced it with the gaping maw you now see," Brian told him.

Mart slapped his palm to his forehead and shook his head sadly. "Brian, Brian," he lamented. "What’d you do, poke at it?" He laughed when Brian grimaced and nodded.

"Oh, well, who cares?" he continued. "That part of the ceiling would have needed replaced sooner or later, right?" He reached into the refrigerator to pull out the ketchup. "Whoa, is this the dinner Moms made before she left for California, like, two weeks ago?" He held up a plate of chicken and rice.

Brian chuckled. "No. Honey came over last night and made that."

Honey Wheeler, age 22, was their friend and neighbor in the little town of Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson. She lived up at Manor House, on the hill beside the Beldens’ modest Crabapple Farm. Honey’s family was loaded. With money, that is. They had adopted red-haired Jim Frayne, an abused runaway with a stepfather named Jonesy, who had caused them lots of problems. Jim was worth it, though, because he was a fine woodsman and an honorable person. He hadn’t even touched the half-a-million dollars he had inherited from his miserly old uncle, not even to repay the kindnesses bestowed upon him by his adopted family, because he was saving the money in order to start a school for orphaned boys. Orphaned girls did not exist in Sleepyside.

Anyway, Honey was just a couple of months younger than Brian and Mart’s sister, Trixie, who was Mart’s almost-twin. That is, until Mart’s birthday in June, she would be the same age as he was, since she was exactly eleven months younger. Trixie had always had a knack for finding mysteries. As children, Trixie and Honey had planned to open the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency when they were finished with school. However, there had been an inexplicable dry spell, mystery-wise, after their 39^th case, and the girls had given up their dream. Honey was getting her master’s degree in education this month, and Trixie would be getting her own graduate degree, in Criminal Psychology, at about the same time.

Brian sat down and took a bite of his sandwich. "Do you know how much fat is in these things?"

Mart looked up sharply. "Bite your tongue, mister! Bite your tongue, or I’ll bite it for you. I choose not to do a background check on my fried foods, if you must know." He unwrapped his own sandwich and asked casually, "So how long was Honey here last night?"

Brian answered around a mouthful of food. "She was here when I got home, and she left right after you called."

"Was she cooking dinner the whole time?"

"What? No. She ate, too. She also did some laundry." He slurped some Coke. "Why do you care so much?"

"I was just wondering." Mart gave up trying to fish for details. There obviously weren’t any.

"Did you know she was going to be in New York this fall? She’ll be teaching at one of the public schools."

"Huh-uh," Mart answered, dropping a gleek as he did so. He wiped at his mouth. "So you guys could hang out. That’s cool."

Brian shrugged. "I don’t know. I mean, maybe, if we see each other. I’ll be fairly busy at the hospital."

"Dan’s there, too, you know," Mart reminded him. (He meant, of course, that Dan was in New York; he was rarely at the hospital.)

Dan Mangan, their friend from high school, was a police officer in New York City. This was a huge change from when they’d first met Dan, who had been a troubled teenage gang member. His uncle, Bill Regan, the Wheelers’ groom and a great friend to all of them - the B.W.G.’s, or Bob-Whites of the Glen, a semi-secret club to which Brian and Mart had belonged, along with their sister Trixie; Honey Wheeler; her adopted brother Jim Frayne, who had insisted that none of them should take anything from anyone unless they had earned it, and kept a speed-boat on the Hudson River; pretty Di Lynch, another millionaire’s daughter; and Dan - had brought Dan to live with Mr. Maypenny, the Wheelers’ gamekeeper. Regan had been far too busy watching the Bob-Whites exercise the horses and clean the tack - he had a temper which matched his red hair, and got very angry when they left any work for him to do - to raise his orphaned nephew himself.

Brian laughed at him. "Dan’s been there five years."

Mart grinned. "So I guess you knew." He slurped his pop a few more times before giving up the ghost and finding the trash. Brian did likewise.

"I’m gonna go use the crapper, then I’ll be out," Mart announced.

They worked steadily for several hours, first removing all the shingles, then cutting out and replacing the damaged wood underneath, and finally re-shingling. When they had finished, it was about dinnertime.

"I get the shower first," Mart called as he made his way down the ladder. As he neared the last few rungs, a car horn sounded, making him lose his footing and slip to the ground.

"You okay down there, big boy?"

Mart squinted up at Brian, who had obviously seen what had happened, and was making fun of him. Mart thought to himself, somewhat bitterly, that if he had been the one honking the horn, and Honey had been clumsy enough to fall because of it, everyone would have yelled at him. "Yeah, come down here and say that to my face, Buddy," he told his brother.

As Brian started down the ladder, Mart turned to see the person who had so rudely announced himself.

"Di! What are you doing here?"

"Honey just picked me up from the airport," she explained, giving him an excited hug. "We stopped at my parents’ house first, but I had to come see you guys!"

"But what are you doing home?"

"I’m all done! I’m home for good! Can you believe it?"
Mart shook his head incredulously. "It hasn’t already been two years since you left. Has it?"

Di nodded, laughing. "Two years exactly."

"Wow." Mart shook his head again. "So are you happy to be done?"

"You bet ya. It felt great to work for such a good cause, but now I know why the Peace Corps will only let you sign up for two years at a time. Two years is plenty."

Mart led her into the house, axing her to show off and say something in Spanish. She obliged, telling him that despite his sweaty appearance and foul odor, his butt still looked as good as she remembered. Honey, being the only other person present who could speak Spanish, laughed but declined to translate for Mart. The group trooped into the living room.

"Does Ben know you’re here?" Mart axed Di as the two found seats on the couch.

"Oh, yes, Di, how is my cousin?" Honey axed eagerly. "I haven’t seen Ben in ages."

Ben Riker, Honey’s cousin, was a businessman in New York City. He used to be a troublemaker, always pulling pranks and getting high. After he’d been arrested, though, his dad had bailed him out and given him a job with the family company. Ben was now a responsible young entrepreneur with a business partner named Ric. Ben had been dating Di for the past two years, which had been kind of difficult, seeing as how she had been in Mexico during that time, serving as a nurse with the Peace Corps.

"He’s fine. You’ll get to see him tonight, Honey: he’s going to come in from New York this evening." She smiled broadly at Mart. "What about Mary? Is she here with you?"

"No; she was going to try to get away, but it would have been a hassle, so I told her not to bother. It would just be for a weekend - it’s not worth it. Not that I wouldn’t love to see my fiancee, but forty minutes is a long drive, you know?"

"You know, Mart," Brian said, advancing into the room, "we’re all beginning to think there no longer is a Mary. We haven’t see her since Thanksgiving, and every time she’s tried to come since then, something’s come up."

"Oh, Brian, you know how shy she is." Honey looked up at him quasi-reproachfully. "She doesn’t want to deal with people’s congratulations. But you know, Mart," she said, shaking her finger at him, "you’re going to have to have an engagement party."

"Yes, and soon," Di added. "I really want to meet her."

"All in good time, ladies. Now, if you’ll excuse me," he said, pushing himself off the couch, "I have to go get a shower. I’m covered in sweat."

Di and Honey gave him a wide berth as he headed up the stairs, then Honey turned to Brian.

"Maybe that’s a good idea for you, too, Brian - not because you’re sweaty or anything, but because we’re inviting you two to dinner, if you’ll go."

Brian, surprised, stumbled over his answer. "Well…yeah."

"Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, my parents, and Ben will be there, too," Di informed him.

"Is it in the city?" Brian tried not to let his disappointment show - he wasn’t looking forward to a late night.

Honey, guessing what he was thinking, responded immediately. "No, we’ve got reservations at that restaurant in the Sleepyside Hotel."

"Say, Brian," Di said, as he started wandering around the living room, straightening pictures and wiping away dust, "what’s Trixie up to? What was her Master’s program?"

"Criminal psychology. You know she’s graduating, right?"

"Yeah, Honey told me. She’ll be home Wednesday?"

Brian nodded.

"Is she coming back to Sleepyside for good?"

"For now. She says she has to be where the action is, though, if she wants to be able to use her degree for anything. She’s thinking she might like to work with the police."

"So…probably New York City, right?" Di said excitedly. "That’s so cool, the way this is working out. Dan’s there already, and you and Honey will go at the end of the summer, and then Trixie will probably end up there sometime. You guys can all hang out together. You could live together if you wanted."

Brian began looking for more dust to wipe off the wall hangings as the two girls talked about the coming months in New York. After a few minutes, Mart, finished with his shower, reappeared in the living room.

"You’re up, B.," he said. "Sorry I took so long."

"Ask Honey to fill you in about dinner," Brian advised.

 

 

"Oh, Ben, that’s terrific!"

"Wonderful!"

"It’s gorgeous, Di!"

A teary-eyed Di laughed stupidly as she showed off her new engagement ring to her mother, Honey, and Mrs. Wheeler. Brian, Mart, and Mr. Wheeler took turns shaking Ben’s hand and congratulating him, and Mr. Lynch hefted himself out of his seat to clap Ben on the back.

"Welcome to the family, son," he boomed.

Brian and Mart shared a look. "Yeah, family," they said softly.

"Did you have any idea he was going to propose, Di?" Mart asked her.

Di shook her head emphatically and wiped away tears. "No - none." She turned to her new fiance and frowned playfully. "Not one little word of warning!"

Ben squeezed her and asked her how she liked the ring. While the two conversed, Mr. Wheeler quietly called for the check. Within minutes everyone was ready to go. Honey fell into step with Di as the group walked out of the restaurant.

"Di, I think it’s so great!" Honey inspected the ring again, then declared, "And I think my cousin has excellent taste in jewelry!"

Di looked appreciatively ahead at Ben, who was talking to Mr. and Mrs. Lynch. "I can’t believe I’m getting married, Honey. This is so crazy!"

"So," Honey leaned in, "how soon do you think the wedding’ll be? I know you must be thinking about it already."

Di grinned guiltily. "I’ve been thinking about it ever since he stood up to make his ‘toast.’ I figured something was up, and I hoped I knew what it was." She giggled and looked around to make sure no one else was listening. "In my opinion, the sooner, the better. Maybe October or November?"

Honey agreed. "I hate long engagements. And I think fall is a beautiful time for weddings."

"Now, you do know that you’ve got to be a bridesmaid, right?"

Honey squealed. "Are you sure?" she screamed, hugging her friend excitedly. She and Di began to cry and giggle at the same time.

Ben came upon them as Honey was hugging her a second time.

"All right, girls, break it up." He pretended to pry them apart. "I’m here to collect what’s mine."

Di gave him a withering look, which he chose not to notice. He continued talking. "Diana, your parents were wondering what our plans were for tonight. I told them we’d be going out." He looked to her for approval.

"Oh. Did you want to go out?" Di made an unmistakable ‘I-hope-you-didn’t-want-to-go-out’ face.

"No, I guess not," he answered easily enough. "But I have to get back to Ric - I mean, the city, heh heh - early tomorrow. Do you want to just go home?"

"Well," Di said slowly, "not if you want to do something else. But you could come over for a swim, and we could tell my brothers and sisters. They’re home, aren’t they, Mom?"

"I think Penny had a date, but Jen and the boys are supposed to be there," Mrs. Lynch replied. "That would be awfully nice if you could come back and show them the ring." She laughed. "They’re going to be so sorry they didn’t come to dinner with us. They thought it would be boring."

Mr. Wheeler smiled. "Well, it certainly wasn’t boring. Ben couldn’t let that happen."

Ben accepted the statement with a good-natured smile.

"So you’ll be coming over to the house?" Mrs. Lynch asked as her husband helped her into the car.

Ben took another look at Diana and gave in. "Sure, Carolyn. We’ll see you there. Uncle Matt, Aunt Madeleine," he turned to the Wheelers. "Thanks for dinner. See you, Honey."

The last round of hugs and well-wishes over, the party broke up. Honey went home with her parents, Brian and Mart returned to Crabapple Farm, and Di and Ben followed her parents to the Lynch mansion.

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

"Trixie, just come on in the house. Let your brothers get that stuff."

Mrs. Belden held open the door for her daughter, ushering her into the living room, as Brian and Mart struggled with the boxes and bags of luggage Trixie had brought from California. "Boys love to do that kind of thing."

"Speaking as a boy," proclaimed sixteen-year-old Bobby Belden, "I can tell you that’s not true." Bobby, laden with his and his mother’s luggage, angled in through the doorway after Trixie. He dropped the bags near the door and looked around. "Well, Trixie, you were right. They did clean up."

Trixie gave the room a perfunctory glance, then zeroed in on a painting above the television set. "Moms!" She sounded heartbroken. "This wasn’t here before!"

Mrs. Belden walked over to where Trixie stood. "I don’t know why you have to inspect the house every time you come home, Trixie. It’s not as though we wait until you’re gone and then change everything." She indicated the painting. "Jen Lynch gave that to me for Christmas, after she got through my art class," she explained.

"What the - ?" Brian’s exclamation of surprise called their attention to the front door, where he was recovering from what had almost been a nasty trip. Bobby’s suitcase lay suspiciously on the floor near Brian’s foot.

After establishing that the suitcase was what had tripped him up, Brian gave Bobby a look that sent the boy racing to pick up his bag.

"Sorry," he said quickly. He grabbed Mrs. Belden’s bag, as well, and rushed upstairs.

"Boy, you’ve got him trained, Brian," commented Trixie as she walked over to see which of her boxes he was carrying. Her eyes widened. "Be careful with that one! It’s got pictures."

"Wow, I hope this one doesn’t." Mart followed his brother up the stairs. He didn’t sound particularly worried as he told her, "I must have dropped it a half a dozen times. Maybe," he suggested with a look, "you should just get the rest yourself, so we don’t ruin anything."

Trixie grinned. "Don’t worry. All the other boxes just have clothes."

Bobby, by now back downstairs, started to pick up the argument where Mart left off. His mother interrupted him.

"I think I’ll go take a look at my new and improved kitchen ceiling," she announced.

As Mrs. Belden and Bobby admired the older boys’ job, Trixie helped Brian and Mart bring in the rest of her things. Standing in her old bedroom, surrounded by piles of boxes, she felt the weight of an overwhelming task ahead of her. She sighed and prepared to start somewhere - anywhere - when Brian rescued her.

"Come on, Trix," he called up the stairs. "It’s time for dinner."

She stepped out of her room and stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at her older brother with surprise. "You already made dinner?"

"I didn’t say it was time to eat," he said. "We’re grilling outside. You can make a salad." He gave her a small smile and headed for the kitchen.

After Trixie finished with the salad she joined her family outside. Moms was relaxing in a lounge chair while Bobby and Brian spread a paper tablecloth on the picnic table. Mart was busy at the grill, tending to hamburgers and chicken.

A scuffle broke out at the table when Bobby tried to declare his independence and refused Brian’s order to fetch the plates and cups. Trixie watched with a smile as Mrs. Belden lazily waved a hand in response to Bobby’s plea for help, as Brian grabbed him in a headlock and dragged him toward the kitchen.

Evading Bobby’s clutching arms, Trixie took a seat near where Mart stood cooking. "So what’s been going on?" she asked.

Mart salted the sizzling meat while he spoke. "Well," he said slowly, "you know that Di’s back. You know Honey got her Master’s this week. You know… Well, what don’t you know? Ask me about someone."

Trixie tore off a piece of the bun she held in her hand. "Okay. Did Jim get the loan he needed?"

"No. At least, not the one you’re thinking of. He’s now going for a grant from the state, but it’s conditional."

"What are the conditions?"

"First of all, he has to own land. Second, he has to have building permits for the school and dormitory."

Trixie frowned. "Well, he’s already got the land, right? The land he bought from Mr. Wheeler. What was that, fifty acres?"

Mart nodded.

"Well, that plus Ten Acres should be plenty, shouldn’t it?" she reasoned.

"Yeah, it’s enough - Hey, Moms, will you hand me that plate?" Mart took the platter from Mrs. Belden and began piling food onto it. "It’s enough," he repeated to Trixie, "but the problem is the biggest condition on his getting the grant. Namely, that the school has to have earning potential."

"His initial thought was to set up a sweat shop, and begin turning out imitation Gucci wallets." Brian shook his head. "But I told him that was a bad idea."

"So," Bobby continued the story, reaching for a hamburger bun, "Mart generously offered to turn the land into a farm for him." He took a bite of his sandwich and mumbled around it, "Since he’s the only farmer anyone knows, he’ll of course be running it."

Mrs. Belden perked up. "Does this mean you’ll be helping Jim? You’ll move back to Sleepyside?"

Mart took a bite of his hamburger and washed it down with a couple of sips of iced tea, knowing everyone was anxious for his answer. Finally, he nodded. "As of July 1^st, I will be the chief agricultural engineer - and Biology teacher, but that won’t be until there’s actually a school, of course - at the Katie F. Jones Academy for Underpriveleged Boys."

Everyone reacted predictably, congratulating Mart and asking for details.

"You’ve already handed in your resignation?" Brian wanted to know.

Mart nodded. "They’ve already starting interviewing people for the position." He was currently a teacher in White Plains. "Friday is my last day there. I go on the payroll at Jim’s July 1^st, like I said. Now, obviously, we won’t be doing much planting in the summer, but we’ll be getting set up, putting some plans on paper - or, rather, on disc - and working on the books." He finished his monologue and went back to his food.

Trixie looked confused. "So, Mart." She waited for his attention to focus on her. "Jim already has the money? I thought you said he didn’t yet."

Mrs. Belden asked with a worried frown, "If he doesn’t have the money yet, how can you be sure your job will last?"

Mart let out a loud burp. "Excuse me. No," he answered them, "Jim doesn’t have the grant, yet. I suppose you could say we’re being optimistic."

Mrs. Belden and Trixie shared a look. Mart sighed.

"Look," he said, "the deal is, I told him I couldn’t wait much longer to hear from him on this thing. I mean, he’s been talking about starting this place since we were kids, and I’ve put off doing much else, because he kept saying how close he was - first, to being done with school, then with his Ph.D., then with his small business seminar…" He sighed again. "Honestly, I thought it was going to be a lot bigger. The farm, I mean. But I told him I’d do it. Besides, it’s a teaching position, too."

Trixie grimaced. "You said you didn’t particularly like teaching, didn’t you?"

Mart stopped another burp before it escaped. "It’s not so bad, Trix. I just said I didn’t think I wanted to do it for the rest of my life. And, anyway, Mary and I will be working together. She’s going to be the math teacher."

"Oh." Trixie widened her eyes at Brian and Mrs. Belden before smiling at Mart. "That’s great. You guys will be working together."

Mart stood up with his soiled dishes. "Oh, by the way, the wedding is set for August Fourth," he told them before walking away.

This last announcement was too much. Trixie screamed, Mrs. Belden screamed, and Bobby choked on his bun. Brian moved to shake Mart’s hand.

"Mart, that only gives Mary two months to plan the ceremony!" Trixie exclaimed. "I hope she doesn’t want a big wedding."

Mart, who had halted his course toward the house in order to accept Brian’s congratulations, started moving again, saying over his shoulder, "She’s already got everything planned."

Mrs. Belden and Trixie decided to ignore the obvious, that Mart wanted to stop talking about it, and followed him into the kitchen. "Will it be here?" Trixie asked hopefully.

"Whitehall," Mart replied. "It is her home, you know." He pointedly turned his back on her as he looked through the freezer for dessert.

"Well, at least it’s in New York," Mrs. Belden admitted, but in an undeniably disappointed tone.

Mart faced her. "It’s only a forty-minute drive, Moms."

"That’s true," Trixie agreed, trying to make up for her initial pestering. Mart clearly was not in the mood.

"Has she told her family yet?" His mother gave him a look that told him she didn’t want to be the last person to be finding out about it.

Mart nervously scooped some ice cream into a bowl. "Well…yeah." He looked up apologetically. "Her mom helped her with the plans."

Mrs. Belden looked exasperatedly at Mart, then at Trixie. She took the ice cream scoop from him and began getting her own dessert. "We’re going to have to jump on the ball, Trixie. We need to plan an engagement party here in Sleepyside, then we have to find out what Mary wants to do about the rehearsal dinner. Mart - "

Mart, who had been trying to escape back out into the yard, stopped and attempted to look innocent.

"Find out from Mary what she wants us to do, will you?"

"Sure thing." He tried again to open the door.

"And make sure she knows we want to throw the engagement party," she told him.

"Gotcha." Mart waited a second to see if she was finished. He fled as soon as she turned back to her ice cream.

He ran into Bobby on the way out the door, but he didn’t even stop to yell at him. He headed straight for Brian, who was finishing up his leisurely meal.

"Starting to remember what it’s like to have a day off?" Mart asked as he sat across from him.

"I never forgot," Brian told him with a smile. "I’ve been looking forward to this summer for a long time, man. No more 36-hour days, no more sleeping at the hospital."

The two shared a comfortable silence as they ate, enjoying the summer evening.

Brian took the last sip of his water, set down his glass, and stood. He stretched broadly and smiled again. "I’m going to be as lazy as I want for the next two months."

Mart chuckled. "Yeah, right. Aside from working all day at Dr. Ferris’s and all night at the clinic, right?"

Brian didn’t deign to reply. He tossed a piece of lettuce Mart’s way and told him to get up so he could clear the table.

"Moms and Trixie giving you a hard time on the wedding?" Brian asked as they rolled all the trash up in the tablecloth.

Mart smirked. "Moms and Trixie? No way. They mind their own business."

Brian grinned at him but didn’t say anything, since his mother and sister were coming their way. Trixie handed Brian a bowl of ice cream.

"I’ll get this mess," she offered. She took the tablecloth from Mart. "You want me to take that?" She nodded toward his empty bowl.

"Thanks." Mart handed it over. He grinned. "It’s nice to have you back."

 

Trixie had finished putting away her clothes and had just about made up her mind to leave everything else until tomorrow when the phone rang. She automatically glanced at the clock as she started to pile the empty boxes in front of the closet, then did a double- take. She couldn’t believe it was 11:30!

The phone rang again, louder, it seemed, than the first time. Silently cursing whoever was on the other end of the line, she lunged across the bed to grab the receiver before it woke anyone.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly.

"Trix? That you?"

The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it exactly. Male, certainly, and someone who knew her well enough to drop the -ie off her name. Not a relative.

"Yes. Who’s this?" she asked without hesitation.

He laughed. "It’s Dan. Remember me?"

"Dan! Oh, my gosh," she apologized, "of course I remember you! How are you?" She grunted a bit as she twisted around onto her back and settled against her pillow.

"I’m fine." She could tell he was smiling. "I didn’t expect to talk to you, though - I thought you’d be asleep." He paused. "You weren’t asleep, were you?"

Trixie laughed. "It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?" She lowered her voice to make a point. "No, I wasn’t asleep, but everyone else is. What do you mean by calling this late?" she scolded him.

"Everyone else is asleep?" he asked. "Even Mart?" He sounded a bit put out.

Trixie frowned. "I think so. Why? Was he expecting your call?" She rose from her bed and peeked out the door. She could see into the room Mart was using, but she couldn’t tell if he was in it.

"Yeah," Dan told her. "He left a message for me to call when I got home. He knows I get off at eleven. Is he there?"

"Just a second," she said. "I’ll see if he’s up." She tiptoed past Bobby’s room and stuck her head into Mart’s. He was fully dressed atop the still-made bed, but he was most definitely down for the night.

"Sorry, Dan," she told him when she had retrieved the phone. "He fell asleep. Do you want me to wake him up?"

"No," he assured her. "Unless it was urgent. Was it?"

She shook her head. "No, not if it is what I think it is, anyway. Can he call you tomorrow?"

"Sure. Any time before about two. I work at three." He hesitated, but she could tell he wasn’t finished. "I was thinking about coming home this weekend."

"That would be great!" Trixie exclaimed. "Oh!" she lowered her voice guiltily when she heard a noise downstairs. "How long would you be able to stay?" she nearly whispered.

"Just Saturday and Sunday," he whispered back. "But don’t tell anyone."

She laughed softly. "I think I woke Brian up," she explained. "He has to be up at five, and I don’t think he’s gotten much sleep lately."

"Oh. Sorry about that. It was probably the phone ringing that woke him. Tell him to take it out on Mart."

"I will," she told him. "And I’ll tell Mart to call you tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll see you Saturday?"

"Probably. It was nice talking to you, Trix."

She smiled. "Yeah, you, too. Good-bye."

"Bye."

After she hung up, Trixie sat in silence for a few seconds. When she heard another noise from downstairs she went to investigate

Brian was in the kitchen, putting a just-washed glass back into the cabinet. He turned and smiled when she came in.

"I’m sorry," she said softly. "Did I wake you up?"

"Huh? No, no," he answered. "I just came in for a drink."

She raised her eyebrows. "Screwdriver or martini?"

"Nothing so unwholesome," he assured her. "It was just some special milk from my custom-built still."

She tossed a grin at him and grabbed an apple off the counter. "’Night, Brian."

"’Night, Trix." With a small wave, he headed back to his room and closed the door quietly.

Trixie watched him and sighed. He looked tired. Then, realizing she was pretty tired herself, she decided against a snack, after all. She put the apple back with its fellows and went upstairs and to bed.

 

CHAPTER THREE

Honey arrived at Crabapple Farm after lunch the next day. Trixie greeted her with a hug. "It’s so good to see you," she said, leading her into the kitchen. The smell of blueberry muffins filled the room.

"Mmm, that smells good." Honey sat down and smiled happily at her friend. "I’m so glad you’re back, Trix. And not just because I’ve missed your cooking. Hint, hint."

Trixie laughed and handed her a fresh muffin, which she accepted gratefully. "How does it feel to be done with school forever?"

Honey breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Wonderful. Can you believe we never have to go back?" They had covered all the basic, ‘oh, my, gosh, no more school’ talk and the discussion about each other’s plans when Trixie had called her last evening, so Honey’s question was basically rhetorical. "This is really good, by the way," she added, holding up the uneaten portion of her baked good.

"Thanks. I was in the mood for something fresh. Have as many as you want." Trixie pushed the plate Honey’s way. "So," she leaned in close to Honey, "how big is Di’s ring?"

"Oh, my gosh! I couldn’t believe it when I saw it. Ben said it’s three carats. I mean, it’s pretty and all, but…"

"But three carats!" Trixie finished. "It must have cost a fortune."

"I know. For their anniversary two years ago, Dad got Mother a two-carat ring, and it cost five thousand dollars."

"Holy cow! I knew Ben was rich, but I didn’t know he was swimming in it."

"His Dad made him a partner last year, and I guess he’s a real natural at it. Who knew that someone who was such a pill as a kid would turn out to be such a successful businessman?" Honey laughed. "Remember that stupid joke he used to play, calling us at Manor House and asking, ‘Is this Man or House? Well, which is it?’"

Trixie and Honey shared a chuckle. "Even then, Di liked him. I guess those two were just meant to be."

"I don’t know," Honey said. "I really thought she and Mart would get together. She thought so, too, I think."

Trixie frowned. "I really don’t know what happened with them, to tell you the truth. I’m pretty sure Di got just the two-year nursing degree because she thought she and Mart would get married when he finished school. And then…I don’t know. I still haven’t figured out if she joined the Peace Corps because he dumped her, or if she dumped him, then joined the Peace Corps." She shrugged. "But they get along great. I’ve never noticed any bitterness, so maybe it was mutual."

Honey nodded, and the two girls fell silent, each lost in reminiscing. Trixie wasn’t sure if their thoughts were running along the same lines, but she took a chance that they were.

"You know," she broke the silence, "if I had had to pick one couple that was going to end up together from among our group of childhood friends, I would have said you and Brian."

Honey made a small noise, a cross between a laugh and a whimper. "What? We never even really dated! I mean, if I had had to pick a couple, it would have been you and Jim."

Trixie looked thoughtful. "You know, back then, I was sure we were going to end up together. But things change. I was heartbroken when he went off to college, but by the time I left for California…" Trixie stopped short of saying, "I couldn’t have cared less." After all, this was Jim’s sister she was talking to. As her childhood friend and Honey’s brother, Trixie would always like Jim, but she knew it would never go beyond that.

Honey sensed that Trixie was about to turn the conversation back to another topic, so she changed the subject completely. "Hey, have you had a chance to visit Mr. Lytell’s store since you’ve been back?"

"No." Trixie stood up to get a glass of milk. "Why? Has it changed?"

"I’m not saying a word." Honey stood up and grabbed her purse. "You’ve got to see it for yourself."

Mr. Lytell’s store was a small shop located along Glen Road, the same road that led to the homes of the Wheelers, the Beldens, and the Lynches. In years past it had belonged to a crusty old man named Mr. Lytell, but he had since died and left the shop to his nephew, Gordy. As the girls took a fateful trip down Glen Road to visit Gordy Lytell’s health food store, they had no way of knowing they were also taking a trip into…The Twilight Zone.

"Eeek!" Trixie exclaimed when she saw the sign above the store. It read, ‘New World Remedies,’ and was decorated with pictures of leaves and berries. Signs in the windows advertised, ‘Gingko Biloba ½ Off,’ and ‘Get your Echinacea Here.’ "Mr. Lytell must be spinning in his grave."

The girls decided to keep walking rather than go into the store. There didn’t seem to be any customers inside, and, as they had no intention of buying anything, they didn’t want to get Gordy’s hopes up. Instead, Honey suggested visiting Mr. Maypenny’s cabin, deep within Mr. Wheeler’s game preserve. Trixie readily assented.

"That reminds me," Trixie told her friend, "Dan called last night. He said he might be coming home this weekend. When’s the last time he was here?"

Honey looked surprised. "Dan hasn’t been back for even a brief visit in, like, a year. I can’t remember the last time he came and stayed the weekend. I wonder what brings him this weekend."

"Well, he said he was returning Mart’s phone call. Mart must have invited him. Plus, he probably heard about Di and Ben and wanted to congratulate her."

Honey nodded. "Not to mention Mart and Mary."

"Actually," Trixie said as she pushed aside a branch which had grown over the path, "I don’t think he knows about that. I’m pretty sure - " she grunted as another piece of foliage presented an obstacle - "I’m pretty sure that’s why Mart called him, but he didn’t leave it on the message. Dan only knew Mart wanted him to call."

They had reached the clearing where stood Mr. Maypenny’s cabin. They stared at it, remembering all the times spent there. This wedge-like area had been the site of quite a few mysterious happenings.

"Remember the bike-a thon?" Honey asked with a happy smile.

"That’s exactly what I was thinking about!" Trixie lied. She had actually been remembering what Dan looked like without his shirt. "It seems like so long ago."

Honey began walking toward the cabin. "Mr. Maypenny’s hunter’s stew was one of the best things I’ve ever tasted," she remembered. Turning the doorknob, she had to give a little extra shove to gain entrance. Trixie followed her in.

"Still looks the same," Trixie commented. "Dan hasn’t changed a thing."

"I told you," Honey said, moving to open the curtains, "Dan doesn’t come back. I don’t think he’s stayed here once since Mr. Maypenny left."

Trixie was only mildly surprised. The girls didn’t have the whole story, but they’d heard that Mr. Maypenny had moved to Florida about three and a half years ago, after signing his home and property over to Dan. Dan, who had joined the army right out of high school, had served his three years overseas, and had then joined the NYPD. Mr. Maypenny hadn’t kept in touch with anyone from Sleepyside after his move, and after a while the girls had stopped writing to him. Dan never talked about it.

"Well, what say we clean it up a bit? Make it nice and inviting for Dan." Trixie opened a window and looked around, trying to decide where to begin.

Delighted, Honey agreed. "And we’ll do some grocery shopping for him, too. Oh, this’ll be fun!"

They set to work happily.

"Trixie," her mother called from upstairs when she came in the door. "Mart called. He wants you to call him back." She appeared at the top of the stairs, with curlers in her blond hair. "Do you know where my blue sweater is?"

Trixie shook her head. "No…you can check my room, if you want, but I haven’t seen it. What did Mart want?" she asked as she headed for the phone.

Mrs. Belden’s voice faded a little as she went on her sweater-hunting expedition. "Something about the wedding, I think. Oh, hon, can I wear these earrings?"

"Hello?"

"Hello, Old Bean. This is Young She-Bean. You called?"

Trixie was gratified by a laugh from Mart’s end before he spoke.

"Yes. In response to your query of last night, Mary has informed me that she expects nothing from you and Moms as far as the wedding goes. And she doesn’t want an engagement party, either."

Trixie had no immediate response beyond raising her eyebrows.

"Trix? Did you hear me?"

"Yeah…What about the rehearsal dinner? I know that’s our responsibility."

"Uh…actually, she said we’re not having one." He sounded the slightest bit ashamed to be imparting that bit of information.

"Mart," Trixie said, exasperated, "I’ve gotta know - is she purposefully trying to exclude us from this wedding? Is she ashamed of us or something?"

Mrs. Belden entered the room. At her questioning look, Trixie raised a palm and continued the conversation.

"Look, Mart. Don’t answer that. Why don’t I just call Mary? I haven’t talked to her in a while anyway. What’s her number?"

Trixie grabbed a pencil and scribbled down the number. She thanked Mart and hung up the phone, then turned back to her mother.

"Well?" Mrs. Belden asked. "No engagement party?"

"It gets worse. She doesn’t even want a rehearsal dinner." Trixie began dialing Mary’s number, and Mrs. Belden pulled up a chair to listen in.

"Mary! This is Trixie. Glad I caught you. Listen, I just talked to Mart. He tells me you don’t want a rehearsal dinner?" Trixie wiggled her eyebrows at Mrs. Belden’s thumbs-up, but her expression fell almost immediately. "So you’re not even going to do a rehearsal?" she asked. "Well, that’s…kind of you," Trixie continued after a pause, "but we really wouldn’t mind making the trip - Uh, huh; I see." Trixie made a face like she wanted to scream. "Well, Mary, we don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. Whatever you decide is fine with us. And, by the way…" Trixie infused a smile into her voice. "Congratulations, and welcome to the family!"

Sadly, there was no one around to say, "Yeah, family."

Trixie returned the phone to its base. She shook her head at her mother.

Mrs. Belden’s disappointment showed plainly on her face. "Nothing?" she asked.

"She says she’ll talk to her mom about it and then get back to us. Apparently, they’re not having a rehearsal in the interest of saving us a trip to Whitehall. But, Mary said, she’ll tell her mom that we wouldn’t mind, and then one of them will call us back to tell us that it’s just too late now to plan anything like that."

"She said that?" Mrs. Belden sounded shocked.

"No, I did. But it’s still true. Why did I even bother calling?"

"Well, you never know," her mother responded briskly, standing and placing her chair back in its place. She walked to a nearby mirror and began pulling curlers from her hair. "Maybe now that they know how much this means to us, they’ll reconsider."

Trixie, not disposed at the moment to think kindly of the Millers, quickly dismissed the comment. Pulling her legs up onto her chair and resting her chin on her knees, Trixie tried to imagine why Mary was being so clandestine about the whole affair. Ideas flitted into her head, but most had to be dismissed on that basis that Mart would have told her about them. She kept coming back to the unhappy conclusion that Mary simply didn’t like them, and either Mart didn’t know it, or he didn’t want them to know it.

As Trixie sat there absentmindedly watching her mother primp before the front hallway mirror, it suddenly occurred to her that Mrs. Belden was preparing to go somewhere.

"Where are you off to?" she inquired. "PTA or something?"

"Oh, no." Mrs. Belden fluffed a curl. "Just an appointment with Mr. Yasbeck."

"Dad’s lawyer? What’s up?"

"Nothing important. Just a few things I wanted to get a lawyer’s opinion on - you know, some things in your father’s will." When Mr. Belden had died in a car accident, coming up on four years ago this January, he had left a surprisingly large estate for his widow. She’d been dealing with his lawyer on a regular basis since then.

"What time do you think you’ll be back? Would you like me to start dinner?"

"Would you?" Mrs. Belden turned around quickly to face Trixie. "That would be wonderful." Before Trixie had a chance to ask her anything else, Mrs. Belden had disappeared up the stairs.

Mrs. Belden still hadn’t returned home by five, so Trixie busied herself with making dinner for herself and Bobby. Brian would not be home until late.

"Bobby," Trixie axed the young one, "has Moms had other appointments with Mr. Yasbeck?"

Bobby looked up from his plate, a tail of stringy pasta disappearing into his mouth. "Who?"

"Dad’s lawyer. The guy she’s seeing right now?"

"Oh. Yeah, a couple of times. He invited us to a game up in White Plains - a minor league baseball game." Bobby resumed his eating.

"And you didn’t know his name?"

"Well, he told me to call him Roger."

Trixie looked up in alarm. "How many times would you say he and Moms have seen each other?"

"Dunno…uh, maybe five?"

Trixie looked astonished. "Bobby! Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t anyone tell me?"

"Trix, I just did. Why are you getting so mad about it? Girls get so worked up about the stupidest things," he added, under his breath.

"Bobby." Trixie took a breath. "This is going to be hard for you, but I want you to, for one minute, use your brain. Okay? Moms and Mr. Yasbeck - I’m sorry, Roger - are--"

"Hello, everyone!" Mrs. Belden’s chipper voice rang through the house. "Hello? Where are you guys? Trix, Mr. Yasbeck would like to say hello to you."

"In here, Moms!" Bobby called out. "In the kitchen."

Trixie quickly swiped her teeth with her tongue to clear them of stray pieces of broccoli. "In here," she echoed Bobby, in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Ah!" Mrs. Belden appeared in the room, followed by a tall, thin, and, above all, young man. Trixie hadn’t remembered him being so young.

"So this is Trixie!" He advanced toward her, hand outstretched. "The last time I saw you, you were about Bob’s age." He looked toward Bobby and winked. "Look at you now! Still the spitting image of your mother."

Trixie shook his hand. "Well, thank you for that. That’s quite a compliment."

He smiled, looking down at Mrs. Belden. "It is, at that."

She lightly slapped his arm. "Oh, Roger."

Trixie couldn’t believe her eyes. Were Mr. Yasbeck and her mother flirting? Could such a thing happen in her universe or was she hallucinating? She watched as Mr. Yasbeck and Bobby carried on a conversation like old friends, calling each other "Rog" and "Bob."

"Well," Mr. Yasbeck said finally, "I’ve got to be going. I’ve got some correspondence to catch up on and an early deposition tomorrow. Trixie, it was very nice to see you again. Bob, you too."

"I’ll walk you out, Roger," Mrs. Belden announced.

Trixie waited until she heard the front door slam shut before running to a window to peek out. Bobby, who had just resumed his eating, watched Trixie in wonder as she began crouching in front of the window and murmuring to herself.

"I…don’t…believe…Ohmygosh! Look at her! She ought to be ashamed, at her age - not to mention his age…and there he goes! Lawyer, indeed." Bobby heard the one-sided conversation stop abruptly as Trixie suddenly turned away from the window, her face ashen.

"Trix, I’m gonna ask again: what is your problem?" Bobby stared at his sister.

"Bobby…they’re kissing!"

"What?!" Bobby tore over to the window. When he got the visual confirmation he sought, he sank against the wall in defeat. "I didn’t even know they were dating!"

 

CHAPTER FIVE

As Mart drove home to Crabapple Farm on Friday afternoon, his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of his upcoming wedding. He knew that certain of his and Mary’s decisions were not sitting well with his mother and Trixie, but he didn’t know what to do about it. He wished that Trixie knew how it was, that once Mary made up her mind about something, that was it. Period. Of course, Mary would deny that characterization, he thought to himself with a smile. She thought of herself as an easygoing person, but Mart knew better. He ought to, he figured, having dated the woman for almost two years. As much as he loved her, he had to admit she was pushy.

However, he truly enjoyed spending time with her. She was the reason he hardly ever made it back home anymore. Mart lived and worked in White Plains, which was actually closer to Sleepyside than it was to Whitehall, but still most weekends found him making the trip to Mary’s town of residence rather than his hometown. He would never tell his mother this, but one of the reasons he preferred to spend his time with Mary was that she had almost no family with which to contend.

This weekend was different, though, since he and Dan had made plans to hang out. Dan had surprised him with the suggestion, saying he could juggle some things and be there Friday. Mary was going to be with her mother ordering a cake or something, and she had given him permission to have some fun.

"Hi, everybody!" Mart pocketed his keys and set his cell phone down on a nearby table. Looking around the empty hall, he called, "Anybody?"

No response. Mart knew that Bobby and Mrs. Belden had plans with Mr. Yasbeck, to celebrate the last day of the school year. Brian wouldn’t be home until late. But Trixie had promised to be there to let Dan in. Where were they? He continued to look around, eventually making his way to the back porch, where he found them, engrossed in conversation.

"Dude!" he greeted Dan. "Been a while."

"Whoa, I didn’t even hear you come in." Dan stood and clapped him on the back. "How did you get here so soon?"

"What do you mean, soon? It’s three o’clock. I only had a half-day at school. I expected to be here half an hour ago, but Mary called me as I was going out the door." Mart pulled a chair up to the patio table and sat down.

"Three? Man, I’ve been here two hours! Trix, I’m sorry - you must be bored to death."

She stood and picked up their empty glasses. "Not at all," she replied. "I enjoyed catching up. It was…really nice." She turned and walked into the house.

"Boy," Mart commented, "you must have really talked her out. I’ve never seen her scatter so fast."

Dan laughed, then said, "So what’s going on? I hear you’re finally tying the knot. Can you feel the noose tightening yet?"

Mart smiled indulgently as if at an ignorant child. "Your whole perspective will change, my son, when it’s your turn."

"Not me," he protested. "You’ll never get me into a monkey suit." Dan laughed, almost too loudly, and his eyes involuntarily strayed toward the house.

"Yeah, well," Mart said, "you better be in a monkey suit at the wedding. I don’t stand for no nude ushers." He laughed at his friend’s momentarily confused expression.

"Usher, huh?" Dan asked him. When Mart nodded, he continued, "Okay, that’s cool. I’ve never ushed before, though. Anything I should know?"

"Just, bride’s family on one side, groom’s on the other. And make sure all the old ladies have seats."

"I’m sorry to interrupt," Trixie interrupted, sticking her head out the door. "But your cell phone was ringing, Mart, so I answered it."

"Who is it? Do you know?"

"I don’t recognize the voice. It’s a guy. He asked for Martin." Trixie shrugged. "Do you want me to take a message?"

"No, I’m coming. Sorry, Dan. I’ll be right back."

"Why don’t you come inside, Dan?" Trixie stood in the doorway as Mart walked past her. "It’s a lot cooler in here." (She amused herself by wondering what he would say if she told him he looked much too hot out here.)

Dan jumped up and followed her in. "Say, Trix, I was going to ask you: how is Brian doing? Is he still working a lot?"

Trixie led him to a couch and they both sat down. She pushed her hair behind her ears as she answered. "Yeah, he’s okay. He’s hardly ever home. I still don’t know how he managed to be here the day I got home."

Mart entered the room. "Hey, guys, guess what?" He paused, as if rethinking something, then went on. "I’m going to buy dinner for all of us. Where do you want to eat?"

Trixie eyed him suspiciously. "Interesting phone call?" she axed him.

Mart waved a hand in the air. "It…was…how do you say…none of your business. Now get upstairs and put on something decent. Dan," he turned pointedly away from his sister, but made sure she could see his smile, "where would you like to eat?"

Dan laughed at Trixie’s expense, and got a light slap in return. Then, as he answered Mart’s question, he grabbed the hand that had slapped him, and restrained it. "How’s about Damon Targ’s?"

Mart raised an eyebrow at their flirtatiousness and nodded. "Come, I shall make the reservation."

Trixie, heading upstairs to get a shower, overheard Mart’s call. She curled her lip

when she heard him say there would be four for dinner. She wasn’t looking forward to an entire evening with Mary. Her expression quickly changed to a smile, though, when she remembered who else was going to be there. And she didn’t mean Mart.

"Yo, Miss Tlixie, get a move on!!" Mart shouted at her. "The reservation’s at 5:30, and we’ve gotta pick Di up first. Are you almost ready?

"Ready, willing, and able," she assured him, hurrying to join him in the living room. "But where’s Dan the Man? And since when is Di coming?"

"Since I called her." He looked her up and down. "Nice dress. You got a hot date later on?"

"Maybe," Trixie replied with a small smile. "We’ll see how it goes." Halfway to the car, she stopped quickly. "Does this mean Mary’s not coming?" she asked a little too eagerly.

"I told you," he said. "She’s working on the wedding with her mother this weekend." Before she could ask any more questions, he steered her none-too-gently to the passenger seat and informed her belatedly, "Dan’s meeting us there."

As he had suspected would happen, her thoughts turned instantly in that direction, and she left him in peace.

When they arrived at Di’s house they found her looking more beautiful than ever. Trixie complimented her friend as she moved into the backseat to make room for her.

"Thanks, Trix," Di responded cheerfully. "You look pretty hot yourself." She raised her eyebrows. "Anyone I know?" she asked.

"Ha, ha. You sound just like Mart." Trixie leaned back in her seat and shot the two of them an exasperated look.

Di laughed and turned to Mart. "Are we picking Dan up?" she asked him as she fastened her seat belt.

"No, he’s meeting us there." Mart’s answer was all politeness, but it lacked the sort of friendly familiarity for which he was famous. He seemed to be trying to contain some barely-containable excitement. His eyes didn’t leave the road, and the rest of the drive was punctuated only by comments from Trixie and Di.

Assuming he had something on his mind, the girls left him to himself, but cast more than one curious glance his way.

"Do you see Dan’s car?" Di asked as they stepped out. Trixie was already scanning the parking lot. (After a few moments she put her tricorder away.)

"He doesn’t have a car," Trixie informed her excitedly. "He’s got a motorcycle. I haven’t seen it yet, though. He walked over to our house from the cabin." She finally spotted the vehicle in question, which was the only motorcycle in the lot.

"Awesome!" she shouted as she hurried over to examine it.

Mart, following his sister in a more leisurely fashion, started to chuckle but stopped abruptly when Di’s arm slipped through his. She smiled up at him. "Who knew, huh?"

"Knew what?"

"That Trixie would go for a biker dude," she laughed.

When they reached her, Trixie welcomed them eagerly. "Look at this, Di!" she ordered her, running her hand over the dashboard.

"Have you ever been on one of those things?" Mart asked doubtfully.

He got no answer from Trixie, who was too busy trying to climb on the bike and finding it rather hard to do in her skirt. Di spoke up, though, suggesting that they might want to go inside and meet Dan, who had probably been waiting for a while.

"Ya’ll mind tellin me whatcher doin on my bike?" a voice asked from the shadows. They all turned in alarm.

Dan started toward them menacingly. "I said," he said emphatically, "what… are… you… doing?" Each word was accompanied by a step.

Mart pushed Diana forward and cowered next to the motorcycle. "Take ‘em, man," he whimpered. "Just don’t hurt me, all right?"

Di slapped him playfully on the arm. "My hero," she said.

Dan was grinning at Trixie, who was still astride his bike. "You like it?" he asked needlessly.

She nodded eagerly and struggled to disembark in a dignified manner. When that didn’t work, she gratefully accepted the hand Dan offered her.

"I didn’t know we were in for dinner and a show," Mart drawled, gesturing toward his sister’s hiked-up skirt. She tried frantically to yank it back where it belonged, waiting even to glare at Mart until after she had succeeded.

"Hey!" she turned suddenly and excitedly to Dan. "You know what I should have brought? Your old leather jacket! It would go perfectly with this baby." She indicated the motorcycle.

As Dan laughed, Mart looked curiously at his sister. "Why would you have Dan’s old leather jacket, pray tell?"

"I gave it to her," Dan told him. "After I joined the Bob-Whites. She said she’d like it as a souvenir."

"A souvenir of what?" Mart said incredulously. "Your halcyon days as a gangster?"

"No, dimwit," Trixie explained, "as a souvenir of the night he saved Bobby. He let me wear it because it was so cold, and I didn’t have anything on, since I’d used my sweater as a way to find the cave again."

"You didn’t have anything on?!"

Dan laughed again as he offered Trixie his arm. He looked over his shoulder at Mart. "She was only wearing a t-shirt, dude. Don’t you remember?"

"Come on," Di urged them, "I’m hungry." She again took Mart’s arm and waited for Trixie and Dan to lead the way.

Once they were seated, Di turned to Mart. "So?" she asked. "What’s the big news?"

Trixie leaned forward eagerly.

"I should have known there was some sort of news," Dan remarked. "Why else would Mart be treating us to dinner?"

"Well," Mart began slowly, "I got a phone call this afternoon." He looked around at all their faces, finally settling on Di’s, his grin getting bigger by the minute. "I’ve been offered my own show!"

Di and Trixie squealed in unison. Dan looked confused. Mart beamed.

"Doing what?" Dan asked. He had to ask twice before he was able to get Mart’s attention.

"Biology, dude," he told him. "Exploring wildlife." Dan still seemed a bit lost, so he explained. "You know, like Jeff Corwin. Only I think it will be more kid-oriented."

"No kidding!" Dan’s expression finally reflected understanding. He raised his water glass. "Congratulations."

"Hear, hear," Trixie seconded.

Mart smiled his thanks, but his eyes strayed almost immediately to Di, who was grinning from ear to ear. "What do you think?" he asked her.

Instead of answering, Di leaned over and hugged him.

Dan gave them a moment, then, when it became obvious that they weren’t going to let go any time soon, cleared his throat. "So, how does a farmer get his own wildlife show?" he axed.

Mart and Di laughed and returned to their rightful places, with Di wiping suspiciously at her eyes. "I’m not just a farmer," Mart informed him loftily. "I had a double major in Agriculture and Biology, and my graduate work was actually in Zoology. Di heard from Ben that the studio was looking for someone, so she called and suggested it to me. I am," he said, leaning back and appearing very pleased with himself, "The Man."

"Yes, you are," Trixie assured him. She looked at him proudly. "That’s great, Mart." Her eyes lit up as she thought of something. "Oh, my gosh, think about how awesome that will be for your kids. You and Mary are planning on having kids, right? Even though you’ll be travelling around the world and everything?"

"Why would travelling around the world keep us from having kids?" Mart wanted to know. He took a sip of his water and eyed Trixie curiously.

She shrugged. "I don’t know. It might be the type of thing that bothers Mary, is all." She suspected that that statement was truer than Mart knew, and she - completely without malice, you understand - hoped it would come up in a pre-wedding discussion between the two of them.

Di stood up abruptly and made a muttered excuse about checking her makeup, then walked as quickly as she could to the bathroom. The other three, startled, watched her go in silence.

"Um, I’m going to…" Trixie stood up and made a motion with her hands to indicate she was going to follow Di. She found her crying in front of the bathroom mirror.

"Can I help you?" Trixie asked softly.

"Oh, Trixie," Di gasped out between sobs, "I don’t think anyone can help me."

On an impulse, Trixie reached out and enveloped Di in a hug. She let her finish her cry in peace. Then when she started to quiet down, she said more firmly than before, "Let me help you."

Di looked up, wiping her eyes and nodding. "It’s - it’s kids," she hiccuped. "I want a baby!" She broke down again, much louder this time. Trixie was hard-pressed to toss reassuring looks to the other women in the room, and at the same time try to figure out how to respond to such a bewildering declaration.

"Well, why can’t you have a baby?" she asked. "After you’re married, I mean."

"Oh, Trixie, I don’t know what’s worse," Di sniffed. "The fact that I may not be able to have a baby, or the fact that Ben doesn’t even want children!"

Trixie was horrified. "Ben doesn’t want children?? Not any?"

Di shook her head. "Huh-uh. But he said that he knows how much I want kids, so he says he’s okay with having one. One!"

"Oh, Di, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I know how important a big family is to you - doesn’t he see that?" Trixie spoke quietly as she pulled out a handful of tissues from the box behind her. She gave them to her friend and continued. "Maybe he’s just scared."

 

She knew it was a lame excuse, but what the *&$#.

Di blew her nose and shook her head at the same time. "No. He said kids just wouldn’t fit in with our lifestyle." She was no longer crying, just telling a story. "I couldn’t believe it. And then when he said that about letting me have one to keep me happy! You can imagine my reaction."

Trixie sure could. She’d seen Di angry only once before, and that was when Trixie had accused the Lynches’ butler Harrison of being a criminal. She had never forgotten the fury in those violet eyes. "But what about the first thing you said? You said you might not be able to have a baby?"

Di sniffed once more, then set about the business of making herself presentable. Trixie turned so that she could watch her in the mirror. Di nodded briskly.

"I went to the doctor. She said that because of my endometriosis, even though I’ve had surgery, there may be too much scarring. She said there’s no way to tell for sure. I didn’t tell Ben." She laughed a little bitterly. "There’s no reason to get his hopes up."

Trixie started to make another soothing comment, knowing it wouldn’t mean anything. Di had apparently had enough, though. "Come on," she said abruptly, "we’re keeping them waiting.

 

 

After swearing Trixie to secrecy, Di led the way back to the table, a smile pasted firmly on her face. Trixie followed with a heavy heart, thinking it was too bad Mart and Di couldn’t get back together somehow. They seemed so perfect for one another. Oh, well, maybe the powers that be could do something about it. (The powers that be are also known as Marys, but Trixie didn’t know that.)

"Everyone okay?" Dan asked casually as he perused the menu.

"Yep," Di replied. "Makeup’s in all the right places."

"I suggest we just get a pizza, if that’s okay with everyone else." Mart looked around the table and received visual confirmation.

"Well, it’s certainly cheaper, anyway." Dan grinned at Mart and asked, "Do you just want to order one drink and four straws, big spender?"

Mart paused, as if weighing the consequences of his next words, then took the plunge. "If that’s what you want, Dan, I’m sure Trixie wouldn’t mind sharing with you. Hey, we could save on straws and just get you guys one."

Trixie, who up to this time had been silently observing Di, started and colored. Before she could get too worked up, Dan laughed.

"Give us a little time, Mart, but I think the first date is a bit early for that kind of thing." Then, turning to Trixie, he said, "What do you think? Is after dinner too soon for a second date?"

 

Honey Wheeler sat in her car and willed herself to move. She had a check in her purse, made out to the Sleepyside Health Clinic and signed by one Matthew Wheeler. All she had to do was walk in, find the doctor on call, and hand it over. She was used to doing stuff like this. She was, after all, the daughter of Matthew Wheeler and a pillar of the community.

"Oh, get a hold of yourself," she whispered. Finally, exasperated with her weakness, she did just that. She exited the car, crossed the dark parking area, and entered the building.

"Excuse me," she said to the nurse at the desk, "can you tell me if Dr. Belden is free?"

"Honey?" Brian backpedaled into the nurse’s station, a chart in his hand. "I thought I heard your voice," he said with a smile.

Honey noticed the nurse’s disapproving frown, but could not be bothered by such trivialities when Brian was smiling at her. Especially when he was wearing scrubs. She accepted readily when he invited her back.

"Would you like some coffee?" he asked as he led her to the lounge.

"No, thanks, it’ll keep me up all night." She glanced around the room, happy to note that there was no one else present. "I’m sorry to just drop in on you. I don’t want to keep you from your patients."

Brian smiled amusedly. "Don’t worry. We’ve had exactly two patients tonight, and only one was human. I’m working on charts. How about decaf?"

"Ooh, that sounds good," she enthused, happily plunking herself down on the couch.

Brian laughed suddenly and genuinely as he went about the business of preparing the coffee.

"What?" Honey asked.

He shook his head and took a seat in the chair next to her. "That’s what everyone loves about you. A millionaire’s daughter, and you don’t mind sitting on an old couch held together with masking tape." Immediately afraid he’d embarrassed her, he quickly added, "But don’t worry - it’s clean masking tape."

Honey’s lips said happily amused, but her eyes said…well, her eyes said different. Fortunately, her lips talked faster, and she deftly changed the subject.

"Speaking of millionaires, Dad sent a donation. That’s why I’m here -’’ she reached into her purse and brought out the check - "to give you this."

Brian reached over and took the folded check. He opened it, then quickly closed it again. "Wow, that’s generous," he said, shaking his head. "You know, before I started work here and at the hospital, I had no idea how much money your dad donates in Sleepyside. Without him, this place and St. Gerard’s would have gone under long ago."

Honey agreed that her father was generous. "Daddy loves to be able to do that sort of thing. His favorite pasttime is writing checks."

Brian walked back over to the coffeepot to fill two cups with its steaming hot liquid. "You like yours sweet, right?"

"With just a touch of creamer," Honey added, joining him at the counter. "So how long are you here tonight, Brian?" She knew the answer, but it made for good conversation.

"I get off at midnight," he replied. "We’ve been a little behind on charts lately, so this will be a good chance to get caught up. Oh, by the way," Brian began, sloshing some of his coffee in his haste to turn to her, "the other day, when I was at St. Gerard’s, I saw Tad Webster."

"Oh, my gosh! What is he doing here?" Tad, Spider Webster’s little brother, had gone to high school with Honey, Jim, Di, Dan, and the Beldens, until he’d moved with his brother to White Plains. "The last I heard, he was working with a small law firm in New York."

Taking a sip of his coffee, Brian nodded. "Yeah, he was, until about six months ago. He works from home now - and home is back in Sleepyside. He’s doing all right - but that’s not why he came to see me. He came in with his wife, for her prenatal check-up."

"Wow, that’s great," she said sincerely. "I didn’t even know he was married. Anyone I know?" She didn’t really expect an affirmative answer, so she had already turned her attention back to her coffee.

"Uh-huh," Brian said casually, but with great enjoyment. When Honey’s head shot up in surprise, at both his reply and his tone, his eyes lit up like a little boy’s.

Honey leaned forward impatiently. "Well, who is she?" she demanded.

Brian sat back and responded lazily. "Loyola Kevins."

Honey practically fell against the back of the couch, she was so stunned. Her mouth remained open, but no words came out. Brian took it from there.

"They look really happy together," he said with a smile in his voice. "I’m not surprised, really."

She was shaking her head slowly. "But they…I mean, she…" She straightened up. "How do they get past it?" she asked in a near-whisper.

Brian frowned. "You mean the racial difference?" He sounded mildly surprised.

"What?" Honey looked confused. "No. I mean the age difference. Isn’t she like three years older than him?"

Now it was Brian’s turn to look confused. "So what?" he asked her. "There was that big an age difference between my parents, there’s three years between your parents, between Di and Ben…" he trailed off as Honey began shaking her head again.

"But, Brian," she explained, "she’s older than him. It’s completely different."

"Yeah, I guess that is pretty weird," he agreed. "I never really thought about it. I was just glad, after he told me who he was with, that he wasn’t there because of food poisoning."

Honey’s shout of laughter startled the nurse who had just opened the door, and earned her another disapproving glare from that corner.

"I’m sorry to interrupt, Dr. Belden," she said without regret, "but Dr. Lyons needs to speak with you. I’m afraid your break is over."

Brian stood reluctantly and looked down at Honey, who quickly set her cup on the coffee table and rose, as well.

"Thanks for the coffee, Brian." She smiled at him, getting an inordinate amount of satisfaction from calling him by his first name in front of the receptionist. "I’m sure I’ll see you again soon. Have a good night." She grabbed her cup and reached for his, too.

When Brian didn’t move to leave right away, the nurse spoke up behind them. "Are you coming, doctor?" she asked pointedly, raising one eyebrow and eyeing Honey.

"I’ll be there in a second," he assured her, with enough meaning in his voice to make her leave them alone. Honey was already on the other side of the room, rinsing the cups and tidying up the area. "Thanks," he told her.

She smiled over her shoulder at him. "No problem. I’ll just get out of your hair now." She finished and briskly retrieved her purse. Then, without further ado - or eye contact - she reached for the doorknob.

"Honey," he stopped her. She turned to him and waited. He obviously didn’t know what else to say, but he came up with something. "Please, tell your dad I’m very grateful for the donation."

"Sure. He already knows, but I’ll tell him again, anyway." Once again she started to leave, this time getting as far as opening the door before Brian stopped her.

"Did you come by yourself?" He had come up beside her, and the concern in his voice was real. She knew what was coming.

"Yes," she admitted, "but I parked right outside the doors. And," she added quickly, before he could speak, "you’re keeping Dr. Lyons waiting, so you don’t have time to walk me to my car." She resolutely headed for the outer office, and he just as resolutely walked with her.

In a tone that brooked no more argument, he told her, "I have plenty of time to walk you there. Dr. Lyons will be here all night." He held the door for her and made a distinct older-brotherly face at her exaggerated sigh (which then turned into a very real sigh when she saw his older-brotherly face).

"Thank you, Brian," she told him in all sincerity as she turned the ignition. He was leaning down to speak to her through the open window, and she again caught that look of patient protectiveness she’d seen so often on her brother Jim’s face. Well, she supposed worse things could happen. At least he cared.

"I’ll see you," he said, then tapped the door in a ‘good-to-go’ fashion and stepped back.

 

 

 

The next morning, when Trixie awoke at nine, she assumed she was the last of her family to wake up. The smell of biscuits and bacon led her downstairs, where she found Bobby and Mrs. Belden eating a quiet breakfast.

"Hello, sweetie," Mrs. Belden greeted her daughter in true mom fashion. "How are you? The food is staying warm in the oven, and there’s a fresh pot of coffee."

"Mm, sounds good. But where are Brian and Mart? Did we all sleep in?"

"Yes, I guess so." Mrs. Belden smiled. "Did you and Mart have a good time last night?"

"Yeah, we did." Trixie rooted around in the cabinet for her favorite cup. "But we split up after dinner, and I don’t know where he went afterwards. I got home about 12:30 and he still wasn’t here yet."

"So, you were out with Dan until 12:30?" Mrs. Belden was trying to sound nonchalant, but she was obviously dying to know.

"Yes. We saw a movie. Did you know that tickets at the Cinemaplex are still only $2.50? They’re $10.00 in LA without a student ID." Trixie shook her head wonderingly.

"What did you guys see?" Bobby wanted to know.

"Oh, the one with that guy. It wasn’t very good."

"I heard the special effects cost over $30 million," Bobby replied.

"Well, you sure can’t tell. I swear, in this one scene, you can tell it’s a dummy falling…"

"So you saw a movie," Mrs. Belden interrupted. "And then what?"

"Um, we got some ice cream, took a little walk downtown…came back here, talked for a little bit…then he left."

"What, no smoochie-smoochie?" Bobby made a kissy face at his sister, who threw a biscuit at him.

"Alright, you two. That food is for eating, not throwing." Still, Trixie’s biscuit-lobbing told Mrs. Belden something she’d been wanting to know. Quite simply, there had been smoochie-smoochie.

 

"And you have no idea what Mart was doing last night?" Mrs. Belden put a dollop of jelly on her biscuit.

"Well, Dan and I left him and Di at Damon Targ’s. I assumed that they’d go home - to their respective houses - but, like I said, he didn’t. Maybe they went out together." Trixie looked as if a thought had struck her. "I hope he didn’t get stuck somewhere. His car is here, isn’t it?"

As if on cue, Mart walked through the kitchen door at that moment.

"It is now," supplied Bobby helpfully.

"Mart!" Mrs. Belden sounded shocked. "We all thought you were asleep upstairs."

Trixie spoke at the same time. "You mean you’ve been out all night?"

Mart handled their greetings as best he could, but seemed ill-disposed to do so very kindly. "I went back to my apartment and spent the night there," he informed them shortly. "Is Brian up yet?"

"Yeah, I’m almost ready," Brian shouted from his room just off the kitchen.

Rather than turn back to his very curious mother and sister, Mart took off down the hallway and knocked on his older brother’s door. At Brian’s invitation he entered and closed the door behind him.

Trixie and Mrs. Belden stared after him, then gaped at each other. Bobby finished his food in silence, then cleared away his plate and left the room.

"I wonder if he knows what’s going on, or if he just doesn’t want to get involved," Mrs. Belden commented dryly upon her youngest child’s departure.

Trixie shook her head distractedly and wondered, "Do you think everything’s okay?"

"Who knows?" Mrs. Belden sounded fed-up. "You kids never tell me anything anymore."

Trixie wisely chose not to pursue that argument, and instead left the room to make a phone call. She wanted answers, and she figured asking Di would be a good place to start.

"Hey, Trix, what’s up?" Di sounded chipper. "No, I actually got home pretty early last night. Mart dropped me off about eight."

"Do you know where he went after that?"

"Sure. He went up to Whitehall to see Mary and tell her about the show. Trixie, nothing’s wrong, is it? Mart’s okay?"

Trixie assured her he was fine, then told her about his spending the night at his apartment and then walking in on them during breakfast. "He seemed a little bit upset. Do you have any idea what might have been on his mind?"

"No." Trixie could picture Di shaking her head. "After you and Dan left - by the way, how did that go?"

"All right. Actually, really all right. But I’ll tell you about it later."

"Right," Di responded, all business. "After you guys left, we stayed at Damon Targ’s for a while, then he drove me home and left for Whitehall."

"Well, thanks for your help, Di," Trixie said. "I’ll talk to you la-’’

"Please, Trixie," Di interrupted earnestly, "let me know if there’s anything wrong. With Mart, I mean. Ask him to give me a call when he gets a chance."

Trixie smiled. "Sure. I’ll see you later. Bye."

"Bye."

Trixie remained seated by the phone for a few minutes, trying to think of possibilities. She was slightly disappointed in herself for her inability to grasp the solution. Ever since she had first started "finding" mysteries as a teenager, she had demonstrated a natural aptitude for solving them. Ever since number 39, though, she had been afraid she’d somehow lost that talent. She hadn’t mentioned it to anyone yet. Still, this latest failure seemed to confirm her suspicions, and the thought didn’t exactly comfort her.

She heard Brian’s truck roar to life, and guessed that meant that Brian and Mart were on their way to wherever it was they were going. Then she heard the familiar strains of electronic music coming from the living room, where Bobby had begun playing the video game. She watched as Mrs. Belden stomped into the room, turned down the volume on the game, and then stomped out.

"I’m doing a load of laundry," she said tersely, "so if you want anything washed, it better be down there in five minutes."

Bobby looked up from the video game to make a face at Trixie, who glared at him. He retreated back into his shell.

The phone rang, and Trixie answered it. When Trixie heard Mary’s voice her mood brightened considerably. Although normally not her favorite person to talk to, Mary at least might be able to give Trixie a hint as to what was going on.

"Hello, this is Mary. Can I please speak to Mart?"

"Hi, Mary. This is Trixie."

"Oh, hello. How are you?" Mary had always sounded a little stiff on the phone, but now she was boardsville.

"Just fine. And you?"

"Really not so well, actually. That’s why I need to talk to Mart, so…"

"Oh, I’m sorry - he’s not here. He showed up here this morning, and then he and Brian left just a few minutes ago. Is there something I can help you with?" ‘And more importantly,’ she thought, ‘is there something you can help me with?’

"No." She sounded positively put out. "I was really hoping he would be there." She paused, as if waiting for Trixie to do something about it, but Trixie didn’t say anything. "I don’t suppose he said where he was going?"

"No, he didn’t. Actually, I was wondering if you knew. We’ve all been wondering -"

"No, I have no idea," she interrupted. "I’m going to try his cell phone. Thank you." She hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" asked Mrs. Belden, who had apparently run upstairs when she heard the phone ring.

"Mary," Trixie responded. "Whatever’s going on with Mart, I’m pretty sure it has to do with her. She didn’t know where he was going, but she was sure upset about something. I think they’re having an argument."

Mrs. Belden’s eyes lit up. "Really?"

Trixie laughed at her enthusiasm.

"We’re being awful, you know," Mrs. Belden chastised her daughter. Still, she was laughing while she did it. "I’ll tell you what: instead of waiting around here all day for phone calls that may never come, why don’t we go shopping?"

Trixie readily assented. "We’ll have to see if Bobby wants to come, but I know how to make sure he doesn’t. Bobby," she called loudly, "Moms and I are going to do some girl shopping - you know, underwear and stuff. Do you want to come?"

Not surprisingly, he didn’t. Frankly, Trixie would have been worried if he had. Promising to bring him a pizza for dinner, the two set off.

Trixie wasn’t sure, given her mother’s previously surly mood, whether she wanted to ask her about Roger Yasbeck. She had already filled Brian and Mart in on the sitch. They, like Bobby, hadn’t known about that aspect of their mother’s life. Mart swore he’d had an inkling ("He knew…somehow he’d always known"), but it caught Brian off guard. Trixie could have kicked herself for the way she’d broached the subject with Brian; assuming he knew already, she’d accused him of withholding the information from her on purpose. In fact, it had taken him totally by surprise, and the normally even-tempered man had had a mini blow-up at his sister. Trixie understood where he was coming from - loyalty to their father aside, it simply would have been nice to have heard it from their mother’s mouth. Still a little upset about that, Trixie decided, for the sake of clearing the air, to bring up the issue. Just as she was about to open her mouth, her mother beat her to it.

"I’m sure you’ve noticed my foul mood, Trix. I think I’d like to explain to you why I’ve been like this. It has nothing to do with you or your brothers." She paused. "Believe it or not, I’m angry at Mr. Yasbeck."

Trixie straightened up. "Oh?" She continued her casual inspection of the clothes on the clearance rack.

Mrs. Belden glanced at her, an apprehensive look on her face. "Yes. Trixie, I have a bit of a confession to make. Mr. Yasbeck is not just your dad’s lawyer. He and I have been seeing each other for about six months now."

Six months?! How blind must her brothers be? Trixie quickly decided to play dumb to her mother so as to keep her talking. "You’re kidding! Well, is it serious?"

"Honestly, Trix, I thought so. This is the reason I’m so angry. I mentioned to him the other night that, with you being home, I felt it was time for the two of us to sit down with you kids and tell you how we felt about each other. I knew it would be hard on you all, Bobby especially, but I also knew that your being here would make it considerably easier on him."

"But Roger, I suppose, was uncomfortable with the idea. He felt pressured, I guess. And maybe I was pressuring him; but on the other hand, six months is a long time, don’t you agree?"

Trixie nodded, by now in total sympathy with her mother.

Mrs. B. sighed. "Oh, I don’t know, Trixie. Am I just an old fool to be dating someone this late in life? I don’t think I can handle this roller coaster of emotions anymore. Just look at the way I’ve been snapping at you kids this morning. And all because I was wondering why Roger hadn’t called me to talk about this."

"You’re not a fool, Moms. And I don’t call what you did ‘snapping.’ We say worse things to each other on a regular basis, and you only did it twice."

"Three times," Mrs. B. corrected her sheepishly. Upon seeing Trixie’s puzzled look, she explained. "While you were on the phone, before the boys left, I said to them…" She stopped, burying her face in her hands.

"What?" Trixie was intrigued.

"I said, ‘If you don’t have time to eat the breakfast I cook, don’t expect any lunch or dinner when you get back.’"

Trixie grimaced. "Oh, Moms, that’s not so bad. It’s really not. We were all so upset this morning, nobody knew what anybody else was saying."

Mrs. B. said nothing in reply, and they walked on together for a few minutes in silence.

In light of her mother’s unhappy state and recent confession, Trixie chose to place herself squarely on the conversational altar of sacrifice.

"Well, speaking of men troubles, I think I’ve got one of my own. With Dan. I know we’ve only had one date so far, but I think I really like him."

"What in heaven’s name is wrong with that?" her mother demanded. "I think congratulations are in order. You know, I’ve always liked Dan."

"Oh, no you don’t," Trixie joked. "You’ve got Roger. Stay away from Dan." After a laugh, she answered the question. "It’s just that I don’t think Dan feels the same way about me. He seemed to be enjoying himself last night, but that’s the way Dan always acts. Always smiling, telling jokes, acting stupid - you know. And Moms, another thing is, he’s soo good-looking. He is the consummate tall, dark, handsome man. I’m just a short, dumpy blonde."

Mrs. B. looked horrified. "You are none of those things, except for blonde. Where do you get crazy ideas like that? You’re a beautiful woman, Trixie."

"Ever since I was a kid…"

"When you were a kid," Mrs. B. corrected her, "You were both shorter and more solidly built than you are now. But sweetie, now you’re taller than I am, and thinner, too. No, you’re not stick thin, but you’re no bigger than Honey or Di. Would you call them ‘dumpy?’"

Trixie shook her head ashamedly. "Moms, it’s not that I think I’m ugly, it’s just that, around Dan, I feel so…so…insufficient. That probably doesn’t bode very well for any relationship, does it?"

"Oh, I don’t know. I think men just bring out the worst in us. You feel short and fat, and I feel old and depressed. And the worst part is, we keep coming back to them anyway."

"Well," Trixie giggled, "no matter what happens, the one date was worth it. Let me tell you," she told her mother, "you have not been kissed until you’ve been kissed by Dan Mangan."

At Mrs. Belden’s squeal, several fellow shoppers turned to stare. Laughing as her mother slapped a hand over her mouth, Trixie led the way into a nearby food court.

"Helen! Trixie!" they heard from across the area. They had just sat down with their food, and looked up to find Carolyn Lynch and Di approaching. Di seemed a little embarrassed by her mother’s rambunctiousness, but she stuck boldly with her as she sailed in.

"May we join you?" Mrs. Lynch asked, setting her bags down and pulling out a chair.

"Of course," Helen replied cheerfully. "How nice to see you."

Trixie patted the chair beside her and smiled warmly at Di. "What are you guys doing here?" she asked after she’d swallowed her Chick-Fil-A.

Di started to answer, but Mrs. Lynch cut her off. "We’re supposed to be shopping for things for Diana’s wedding." She directed a good-natured frown at her daughter. "But she can’t seem to find anything she likes. So far, we’ve only gotten things for me." She waved a hand in the direction of her bags. "Except for that--what was that you bought for Mart?"

Di’s eyes lit up. "Oh, Trixie, you’ve got to see this!" She reached into the one bag she carried and pulled out a safari hat. "Isn’t it just perfect?"
Trixie took the hat with exclamations of delight, while her mother and Mrs. Lynch looked on in bewildered consternation.

"I don’t get it, myself," Mrs. Lynch confided to Mrs. Belden, "but Diana says it’s just what he needs."

Trixie remembered with a start that her mother probably had no idea about Mart’s new job. Hastily, she explained, "Mart’s been offered his own show, on the nature channel. He’ll be travelling around the world, exploring jungles and such. Di," she said to her friend, "this is perfect. He’ll love it."

Di smiled with satisfaction and Mrs Belden, completely exasperated, prepared to launch into another diatribe about how little she knew about her children’s lives. Then, perhaps remembering that she had kept her own not-so-little secret for six months, she closed her mouth.

Mrs. Lynch sensed it was time to change the subject. "I think I’m going to go find the Ladies’ Room," she informed them, "and then, Diana, you and I can run up and order our own lunches." She bustled away.

Mrs. Belden, lost in her own thoughts, returned to her food. Trixie, still talking to Di about Mart’s new career, suddenly snapped her fingers and exclaimed, "That’s it!"

Her mother’s head shot up. "What?"she and Di asked at the same time.

"I bet that’s what Mart and Mary argued about! She probably doesn’t like the idea of him doing the show."

Two questions came at her at once.

"Mart and Mary argued?" Di asked, leaning forward.

"Why wouldn’t she like the idea?" Mrs. Belden asked, leaning back.

"Well, the two of them have made plans to work together at Jim’s school. While Mart’s background makes him a perfect choice for both the school and the show, Mary is just a teacher - no offense, Moms - and she probably doesn’t see how she could contribute to a career in television." Trixie looked triumphant.

"You don’t think they’ll break up, do you?" axed Di.

Trixie and her mother exchanged hopeful glances.

"No, I don’t think so." Mrs. Belden’s answer belied her expression.

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

"Hey, Mart, are you taking this table?" Brian called from the living room of Mart’s apartment. He indicated a coffee table with gnawed-off corners and permanent water rings.

"Yeah," Mart answered quickly. "Why not?"

Brian declined to answer. Shaking his head, he picked up the monstrosity and carried it downstairs to his waiting truck. He and Mart had been working steadily since about ten-thirty that morning, and the apartment was nearly empty as a result. All that remained were a few odd pieces of furniture and a closet full of loose papers in the bedroom. Mart was in there now, sorting through the mess of bills and school papers.

He’d begun last night, pretty much right after his talk with Mary.

Mary hadn’t taken the news about the show well. She’d known that, having talked to someone at the network months ago, he’d been hoping to get his own show. She had obviously been hoping he wouldn’t, for reasons that Trixie has already astutely intuited, but had viewed it as a long shot, anyway. To say the least, she had not been very supportive.

When Mart had informed her last night that he had been offered a show and told her, in no uncertain terms, that he was accepting it, Mary had given him an ultimatum: her or the show. He had paid a little lip service to ‘working things out,’ but he hadn’t expected to walk away without the engagement ring in his pocket.

And, truth be told, he wasn’t terribly upset about it. Ever since dinner last evening, he’d been wondering what he’d ever seen in Mary. Being with Di again, basking in her glow as it were, was so refreshing. When they’d split up almost three years ago - very amicably - he had contentedly gone on his way.

The fact that he’d almost immediately begun a long-term relationship with Mary had seemed like evidence to him that he was over Di. Now, in retrospect, he realized it was more likely evidence to the contrary. His dad’s death had occurred a few months before he’d broken it off with Di and, he had to admit, that had probably had something to do with it, as well.

Regardless, that was all in the past. And now, thankfully, so was his engagement. Now, he grinned to himself, if only he could do away with a certain other person’s wedding plans. No, seriously, he was happy for Di and Ben. He’d do nothing to ruin what they had. Heh heh.

After leaving Whitehall, he’d decided to drive the shorter distance to his apartment in White Plains rather than return to Sleepyside. Once home, he’d called Brian to talk to him about it. The two had made plans to move Mart out of his apartment the following day. Mart had decided to move back to Crabapple Farm until the August start date of his show.

"What are you going to tell Jim?" Brian wanted to know. They had everything loaded.

Mart checked the apartment door to make sure it was locked. He exhaled heavily. "I feel bad, man," he admitted as they walked to the truck. "But, you know? He called me again to say that we wouldn’t be starting until next year at the earliest. Something about the bank." He climbed into the passenger seat. "I’ve gotta tell him I can’t do it."

Brian sympathized with him. "You can’t wait forever," he agreed. "This show’s too good an opportunity to pass up."

They made it back to Crabapple Farm by early evening. There they found Bobby and Trixie sharing a pizza in the living room, trying to understand the murmured voices coming from the kitchen.

"Moms and Mr. Yasbeck," Trixie whispered in explanation.

Mart nodded knowledgeably and took a slice of pizza. Brian had received a call on his cell phone minutes before walking in the front door, and hung up just in time to hear Trixie’s explanation. Declining the pizza she offered him, he announced that he was needed at the office and took off again.

Trixie took note of Mart’s improved mood but said nothing. She assumed that he and Mary must have resolved their argument; she had no idea how right she was. Even if she had wanted to risk invading his privacy to ask him about the fight, she didn’t have time to get into a detailed discussion. She was expecting Dan any minute.

Mart finished his pizza and went to grab a shower, missing Dan’s arrival and his and Trixie’s departure. He also missed Moms and Mr. Yasbeck’s exit.

"Where is everybody?" he asked Bobby, who, left alone again, had returned to the video game. Bobby merely grunted in reply.

"Come on," Mart commanded, picking up the empty pizza box and crunching it up. "Let’s go see a movie or something. If you’re going to be a vidiot, at least waste money doing it." He went in search of a trashcan, calling over his shoulder as he did so. "And why don’t you call Terry and Larry and see if they want to come."

Bobby agreed excitedly, running to his room to change and make the call. A few minutes later he yelled down to Mart,
"Mart, Di wants to talk to you!"

As it turned out, Di was also home with nothing to do, since Ben had had to cancel their plans. She was hanging with Jenny and the boys. She suggested that Mart and Bobby rent some movies and bring them back to the Lynch home theater.

Mart readily agreed, and within the hour he and Bobby were arriving at the Lynch mansion, armed with several movies and four large pizzas. Mart had exclaimed upon hearing Bobby’s desire for more pizza, but he knew what it was like to be a growing teenage boy, so of course he had assented.

"Hi, guys," Diana greeted them happily. "Mom and Dad just left, and the boys and Jenny are already in front of the t.v." She showed them into the kitchen, where she had already laid out plates and cups. "They’re here!" she yelled to her siblings. Di had four younger siblings, twin brothers and twin sisters. All were here tonight except Penny, the only one with a social life.

As the sound of six running feet thundered toward them, Mart and Di looked at each other and laughed. Di was happy to see that Mart seemed more than okay, so she opted not to ask about what had been bothering him earlier.

"Hey, Jen," she suggested to her sister, "since you and Bobby have your plates fixed, why don’t you two go ahead and get the movie set up?" She smiled slightly and gave her nervous sister an encouraging look. Bobby, oblivious, picked up his drink and followed her. Di sighed inwardly. Bobby was so like Mart had been at that age, and Jenny apparently was like Di had been for his brother - head over heels.

Although Di had not intended to ask Mart about his recent spat with Mary, she couldn’t help but skirt the subject. She and he were seated next to each other on the couch while the kids argued over which movie to watch. Bobby (and so, of course, Jenny) wanted Ghostbusters, while T&L voted for The Princess Bride (they loved the way Westley looked in his tiny black mask).

"So how are your wedding plans coming, Mart? I find it so incredible that Mary was able to get so much done in the space of a month. I don’t even know where to start!"

Mart took a swig of beer. "Um," he said, a small laugh in his voice, "they were coming along really well until last night." He cleared his throat, not quite knowing how to proceed. Finally, he said simply, "Actually, the wedding’s off."

"What?! Oh, my gosh! I am so sorry, Mart." Di looked genuinely horrified, and Mart laughed at her reaction.

"Don’t worry about it," he said. "I mean, thank you, but - and maybe I’m in denial or something - I’m okay with it. Really."

Di was flabbergasted. "And how is Mary? No, wait," she added quickly. "That’s none of my business. I’m sorry - I don’t mean to pry. You probably don’t want to talk about it."

"I don’t mind," he assured her. "But I don’t really know how she’s doing. This all happened last night, and I haven’t talked to her since."

"Does anyone else know?"

"Brian. He helped me move stuff out of my apartment today."

"Wow." Di didn’t know what else to say. "Wow."

Mart was amused at her dumbfounded look. "You really thought we were right for each other, huh? Like you and Ben?"

Di looked suddenly vulnerable. "Well, I mean…"

"It’s okay," Mart apologized. "I didn’t mean that the way it sounded." He thought for a second, organizing his words. "We just didn’t want the same things. You know what Trixie said last night, about Mary being put off by having kids?"

Di nodded, wondering if he’d guessed her secret.

Mart shrugged. "She was right, but not for the reason she thought. Mary wasn’t just concerned about how children would fit in if we did the show, which by the way she refused to do. She’s never wanted to have any kids - she’s always just wanted to adopt. I thought I could handle that, but…I want my own, you know?"

"Why would someone not want to have kids?" Di’s voice rose angrily. "I just don’t get it." She brushed her hair out of her face and glared at Mart.

Taken aback by her vehemence, he started to remind her that, hey, he did want kids, but he noticed something in her hasty movement. "Hey," he said quickly, "where’s your ring?"

Di involuntarily moved her hand out of sight. "Oh," she said, embarrassed, "it’s in a safety-deposit box."

As Mart listened to her explanation, he went for the tiny ring in his jeans pocket, where it had been biting into his leg all evening.

"See," Di continued, "Ben spent so much on it, and he was worried I might lose it, so he suggested I keep it put away. And," came the confession, "I don’t mind at all. I mean, you saw it - it’s so ugly!"

"Well, I don’t know if ‘ugly’ is the right word…"

"Garish, then." Di stopped herself. "I don’t mean I don’t like it, just that it would be nice to have a ring I could actually wear without signing a release first."

"Well, that’s something Mary never had to worry about with this little pebble." Mart held the ring up, eyeing it.

"Oh, no; I think it’s a nice ring. May I?" Di took the ring and examined it. "The cut is excellent. And the setting is extremely elegant." Handing it back: "I’d say you did a very nice job picking that out. Any woman would be proud to wear that ring." (Hmmm…)

The teenagers had finally decided on a movie to watch, so Mart, at Larry’s behest, hit the lights and settled back into his seat. He was surprised, but not displeased, when Di scooted over a little closer.

"Scary movie," she explained in a whisper, as the opening credits for Caddyshack rolled onto the screen.

 

Meanwhile, back at the pie-shaped wedge, Dan was giving Trixie a run-down of the proper procedure for discharging a firearm. He watched with satisfaction as she assumed the stance he had shown her and took aim on an old tree stump.

"Gently," he reminded her as she sighted down the barrel.

"Gently what?" she asked him impatiently. "You won’t even let me pull the trigger." She lowered the gun and turned around. "Besides, it’s getting too dark to see anymore."

Dan reached out for his weapon. "All right. That’s enough for tonight. You said you wanted to learn how to use this," he reminded her, "so don’t go getting mad about my teaching methods."

She sighed heavily, then asked plaintively, "Do I at least get to see how to load it?"

Dan appraised her, then nodded as if finding her worthy. "I suppose you’ve earned it," he teased. He sat her down at the nearest bench and proceeded, in the growing darkness, to instruct her.

By the time they were both content that she knew what she was doing, they were squinting to see each other. "I think it’s time to find some artificial light somewhere," Dan commented.

Trixie nodded, still studying the weapon in her hand. "Yeah, I guess we should go inside."

"No, let’s not," Dan replied, taking the gun and putting it away. He took her hand. "Let’s take a ride."

"Can I drive?" Trixie asked eagerly, already halfway to his motorcycle.

Dan laughed indulgently as she dragged him along. "I should have known. You always were the most danger-loving chick I knew."

"And thank goodness you didn’t let that bother you. How come you never tried to stop me from - things?" She finished strapping on her helmet as she asked this last and she looked up at him curiously.

"Like Jim did?"

"Yeah," she said. "And Brian."

"I guess I just figured you knew what you were doing." He shrugged. "It bothered me the way they treated you sometimes." Then he grinned and told her, "However, I’m about to do the same, but only because I don’t want to lose my bike. I’m going to have to insist that you let me drive."

Trixie didn’t argue. She’d already discovered the joys of riding behind him. She tossed her leg over the seat and waited for him to take his place.

As he started the engine, he called something back to her.

"What?" she shouted.

He turned slightly and repeated, "Hang on!"

Trixie grinned. Not a problem, she thought to herself.

They drove for a long time, not attempting to speak. Dan seemed to have a particular destination in mind, and she had no desire to end the ride too soon. They pulled up at a gas station just outside of town and Dan cut the engine.

"Almost empty," he explained.

Trixie quickly shed her helmet and jumped down to stretch her legs. "Do you need a hand?" she asked him.

He shook his head as he went about the business of filling up, pausing to give her a grateful smile. "No, thanks."

She smiled back and looked around. "So where are we?" she asked.

He took in all the sights around them and shrugged. "At a gas station just outside of town, is my guess."

"And here I thought you were taking me someplace special," she lamented.

"Hey, babe." He eyed her meaningfully, "any place with me is special."

She laughed dutifully as he turned back to his gas-pumping business, but made a face which clearly said she didn’t deny his statement. Of course, she didn’t let him see it.

He finished up and paid while she remounted. When he reappeared she asked, "So where to next?"

He didn’t answer until he was firmly settled in front of her. "How about we pay a visit to our past?" he said cryptically. Before she could ask him to elaborate, they were back on the road, heading in the direction from which they had come.

By the time they had reached their destination, Trixie had pretty much figured out where they were going. She disembarked with a smile and removed her helmet. She waited at the door of the old clubhouse while he concluded his business with the motorcycle. Then, feeling just the slightest bit bold, she took his hand before opening the door.

"Wow," she said, looking around. "It’s so much smaller than I remembered." She eyed the homemade table in the center of the room. "How did we all fit around that?" she wondered.

Dan shook his head. "Weird," was all he said.

She looked at him, amused. "When was the last time you were here?"

"Jeez, I don’t know," he was shaking his head again, clearly doing some figuring. "Probably the summer after high school. What was that, eight years ago?"

She nodded. "That’s right. You left that September, didn’t you?" She frowned, remembering. "You had basic training in the fall, then you left right away for Germany."  She looked at him in consternation. "You never even came back for my graduation, or anything." She waited for him to defend himself.

He snorted. "Yeah, you were so broken up about it you didn’t even notice I’d left." At her surprised look, he amended, "Everyone went their separate ways about the same time as I did, didn’t they?"

"No," she said slowly, releasing his hand and taking a circuit around the room. "I mean, I guess we didn’t see as much of Brian after he started college, but Jim came home for breaks. And Mart and the rest of us were still in high school."

The conversation suddenly seemed stilted. Dan paused, as if considering how to say what he wanted to say. "I guess I just felt like I didn’t have much reason to come back." He watched to see if she would appear shocked or confused. She didn’t.

She lowered her head. "I’m sorry you felt that way." She looked up again. "But I’m not surprised. You seemed very… discontent when you left." Her eyes questioned him.

He joined her at the window. "Not discontent. Just ready to move on." He held her gaze. "And now I’m ready to come back."

 

Brian stayed much later than he had expected to at Dr. Ferris’s office, straightening up his equipment and finishing some paperwork. He headed home at about 11:00.

He was surprised to find Mart just getting home, and Trixie and Dan still in the kitchen, talking and feasting on cookies.

"Another late night, huh?" Mart asked a little too cheerfully. Brian had figured he would be at least a little subdued after his breakup with Mary.

He grunted an affirmative and studied his brother. "Did you patch things up with Mary?" he asked.

Mart’s eyebrows first rose in surprise, then lowered, in what appeared to be distaste. He cleared his expression almost immediately. "No, everything’s still the same. I just dropped Bobby off at the Lynches’, to spend the night."

Brian checked the time. "Now? Isn’t it a little late?"

Inexplicably, Mart colored a bit. "Well, I didn’t just drop him off. We were over there and he fell asleep watching a movie. Di suggested I just leave him there, since Terry and Larry were asleep, too." He opened the kitchen door and leaned in to greet Dan, effectively ending the question-and-answer session.

Brian, still not completely sure what was going on, but, being Mart’s brother, having a pretty good idea, followed him as he joined the couple at the table. Mart ignored him as Brian rooted around in the refrigerator and kept an eye on the proceedings.

"Uh, Dan," Mart began. "There’s something I should tell you." He took a bite out of an apple and stalled. Dan observed him disinterestedly. "I won’t be needing you in my wedding anymore."

Dan’s interest was now fully engaged. "Why, what did I do?" he demanded.

Trixie, shocked, looked to Brian, who was hiding a smile behind his cold pizza. Assuming he knew what was going on, and wasn’t too bothered by it, she waited in silence for Mart to explain.

Mart, for his part, had practically choked on his apple in his haste to reassure Dan. After a few moments of trying to cough and talk at the same time, he pointed weakly at Brian, who kindly decided to help out.

"He means, he doesn’t need you in the wedding, because the wedding is off." He did not fail to notice his sister’s distinctly pleased expression.

Dan and Trixie stared at Mart, who was still having a little trouble with his fruit. Finally Mart confirmed the story with a simple, "Yeah, what he said."

Brian, now armed with the idea that Mart’s breakup was not as straightforward as it seemed, waited curiously to see if he would drop something. He stood at the counter eating his pizza and watching.

"So what happened, man?" Dan asked.

Mart shrugged. "Irreconcilable differences. It wouldn’t have worked."

"And yet it worked very well for two years." Brian mentally thanked Trixie for her pointed remark. He’d been thinking that himself.

Rising abruptly to get himself a drink, Mart replied a little testily, "And now it’s not working. Look," he said as he sat back down, "I guess it had been coming on for a while, and this new job thing just clinched it."

No one responded. They all went about their individual businesses of chewing and swallowing while they digested his last remark. Not surprisingly, Trixie broke the silence.

"Well, I’m glad you’re okay with it," she said lamely. "If you feel like talking about it…’’ she trailed off, through with trying to employ her ‘Glamour’ magazine’s tips for helping a friend get over a broken engagement. Mart didn’t seem upset, after all, and all three of them were looking at her in amusement.

"Well!" she shouted in exasperation, "nobody else knew what to say, either!"

 

 

 

Mart called Jim the next morning to inform him that he would not, it turned out, be joining him at his school. Jim took the news very well, especially after he heard the reason. He congratulated Mart heartily and assured him that the last-minute change wouldn’t be a problem. (Mart rolled his eyes at Jim’s use of the term ‘last-minute.’)

Mart cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um," he added, "I think I should tell you that you’re going to need to find a replacement for Mary, too."

"What do you mean?" Jim sounded very confused. "She called me yesterday. Did she change her mind?"

Now it was Mart’s turn to be confused. "She called you? What time?"

"Ah, it was right after dinner, about 7:30, I’d say. She said she wanted to let me know she would still be starting at the beginning of August. I thought it was a little weird," he admitted, obviously fishing for more information.

"Yeah," Mart agreed slowly, "that is weird." He wished with all his heart that he could let it go at that, but he knew Jim would find out sooner or later, so, "We called the wedding off. I just assumed she’d want to forget about teaching in Sleepyside."

Jim was quiet for a long time before responding. "I’m sorry to hear that, Mart. Are you okay?"

"I’ll survive," Mart told him with what he hoped was a conversation-ending tone.

"Sure, of course," Jim answered quickly. "Just let me know if there’s anything I can do." He thought smugly of his ‘Glamour’ magazine upstairs, knowing he was saying just the right things.

"Will do," Mart lied. "Talk to you later." He hung up with a relieved sigh and turned to his sister, who had been trying to eavesdrop.

"Guess who called Jim last night?" he asked her mysteriously.

She shook her head, at a complete loss.

"Mary."

Trixie was aghast. "She told him?!"^*

"No," Mart shook his head, "she just called to say she would still be teaching at his school." He waited for that to sink in. It did.

"What…you mean she… she’s still moving here!?" she blubbered. Spewing questions, she followed Mart, who was making his way toward the stairs.

"She’s not crazy, is she? Does she think you guys are still together? Is she getting fitted for the wedding dress at this very moment?"

Mart took the steps two at a time, whimpering dramatically at her incessant talking. He clutched at his ears.

Trixie laughed breathlessly as she tried to keep up and continue her heckling at the same time. "Maybe she’s hoping you forgot! I bet she’s getting ready for your date right now!"

At the top of the stairs, still laughing, Trixie lunged and, very unexpectedly, caught Mart at the back of the knees. He collapsed almost immediately, taking her down with him. Her scream rang throughout the house.

"Trixie!" Her mother’s expression changed from concerned to angry when she saw the heap of humanity in the hallway. She had a book in her hand and a disturbed look about her. A sound came from the master bathroom, which sounded suspiciously like a recently-flushed toilet.

"Oomph," was Trixie’s reply.

"Somebody get her off me!" Mart grunted, laughing.

Mrs. Belden threw up her hands and returned to her bedroom while Trixie and Mart attempted to stand.

"Just wait till I tell Dan about this!" Mart pretended to be indignant.

"I was thinking the same thing. He actually taught me that move the other night - sort of like a self-defense lesson, to prepare me for living in the big city."

"So you and Dan spend your dates tackling each other, is that it?" Mart walked toward his room. "Charming."

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Hey, Moms!" Trixie stuck her head in the back door. "Are you coming?"

"I’ll be down in just a minute," her mother called back. "Why don’t you kids go ahead and start up there?"

Trixie returned to her spot on the porch, where Dan and Mart were each holding coolers full of food and drinks. "She said we should start up to the lake," she informed them.

"You guys go ahead," Mart said. "I’ll walk with Moms. Did you get the dessert, Trix?"

"It’s in one of the coolers," she replied. She leaned over and picked up the bags containing towels and swimsuits. "Ready, Dan?"

"Willing, and able." He nodded toward Mart’s burden. "You want us to take that one, too?" he asked him.

Mart grinned. "No, thanks, I think I can handle it. I’ll make Moms carry it if it gets too heavy." He bade them farewell and watched them start up the hill toward the Wheelers’ lake. Dan said something and Trixie responded with a laugh and a happy glance up at him.

Mart found that he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sight of them. They were so happy together, and he was almost as happy just seeing it. Dan was his best friend, and he couldn’t think of anyone he would rather see his sister with. He’d always known how Dan felt about Trixie, and he had suspected that she felt the same way. He was glad they’d admitted it.

For a while, he’d been afraid that Trixie would end up waiting for Jim Frayne. When Jim had left for college, after all, he had tried to get a verbal agreement out of her - something about dating other people, but remaining each other’s ‘sweetheart,’ or something.

At the time, Mart had rolled his eyes in disbelief when Trixie had told him about their big talk. He’d wondered why in the world she was even considering such a deal. Jim was an okay guy, he guessed, but Mart had never understood the appeal. He couldn’t see why Trixie put up with Jim’s condescending attitude.

But then it had dawned on Mart, all at once, to wonder why in the world she hadn’t accepted Jim’s idea immediately. Trixie had always been so afraid of displeasing Jim - and so sure that no one else would be interested in her. Mart figured that’s what Jim had been counting on, assuming Trixie would wait anxiously for him to return, while he, meanwhile, had her blessing to date whomever he wanted.

Once Mart had realized the import of the fact that Trixie was asking him for advice, instead of just nodding and saying, ‘Yes, Jim,’ Mart had, as carefully as possible, suggested that she tell Jim that she wouldn’t dream of holding him to any promises. He had barely been able to contain his pleasure when she’d done just that.

Mart chuckled suddenly as he remembered the look on Jim’s freckled face when Trixie had sent him off with a handshake, the day he’d flown out to Boston to start school. Jim had tried to look brokenhearted and mistreated when she’d declined his kiss on the cheek. Even Brian, who considered Jim one of his best friends, had made a disgusted face.

"What’s so funny?" his mom asked as she joined him. She was carrying another bag full of towels and an extra dessert.

Mart led the way off the porch and up the hill. "Nothing," he told her. "I was just remembering something. Is Roger gonna be there?"

Mrs. Belden nodded. "He said he’ll be there about four. I hope there’s enough food left for him."

Mart laughed. "Moms, come on. We’re bringing two coolers full of stuff, the Lynches are bringing food, and the Wheelers are supplying enough for lunch and dinner. There will not be a shortage."

 

"Hey, Dan." Trixie stopped him before they were visible to the others around the lake. "Thanks for getting time off today. I know it was a hassle."

Dan smiled down at her. "Even if it had been a hassle, which it wasn’t, there’s no way I would have missed this. It’s been a long time since all of us have gotten together like this."

"It sure has," she agreed, resuming the walk. "I can’t remember the last time every member of the Bob-Whites was home for the Fourth of July. Not to mention Regan! How long has it been since you’ve seen him?"

"We got together at Christmas. He and Aunt Joan stayed with me for a couple of days. Fortunately," he added with a grin, "they realized it wasn’t working and got a hotel room pretty quickly."

"The kids?" Trixie laughed.

"Oh, yeah," he said emphatically. "They’re good kids, but there’s just so many of them! And I’ve only got three rooms."

Since they were speaking of the devil, he went ahead and appeared. Dan’s young cousins spotted them and came running.

"Dan!" The name was shouted in a variety of voices and tones, but all with the same high volume and excitement. Six children - four boys and two girls - charged them.

Trixie took the cooler from him and stepped aside as Dan withstood the greeting. The youngest were two-year-old twins. (Twins, Trixie reflected, seemed to pop up everywhere. You’d never guess, after knowing the two sets of Lynch twins, the Hubbell twins, the Reed twins in NYC, and the girls at Mead’s Mountain, that they were a rare occurrence.) Dan reached down and picked them up from where they’d landed when their older brothers had scrambled over them.

"Hey, guys," he hailed them. "You having fun here? Have you met Trixie?"

"Hi, Trixie!" they shouted.

"Are you Dan’s girlfriend?" the oldest asked.

"Yes, she is. Trixie," he gestured toward the boy with one of the little girls swinging from his arm, "this is Carl."

"I’ve heard about you," Carl told her. "Dan says you saved him when he was going to run away from Dad."

Trixie’s eyes met Dan’s. "Well, that’s not quite right," she said with a smile. "As a matter of fact, Dan saved me that night - me and my little brother. Did he tell you about the big wildcat?"

"What?" Carl and the second oldest, Tim, stared wide-eyed at her. "A wildcat?"

They had made it to the picnic table by now. Dan disentangled the girls and helped Trixie lift the Igloo up onto the table. Then he turned back to the boys and informed them, "Your dad was really the one who saved us. He stopped the cat right before it attacked." He laughed out loud at their expressions. "Didn’t he ever tell you this story?" he asked.

Instead of answering, Carl and Tim took off at full impulse, in search of Regan. The other boys had already wandered off, and the girls were in the process of toddling toward Joan, who was sitting in a lounge chair near the water. She waved a hand Dan’s way and called out a greeting.

"Hi, Aunt Joan." He turned to Trixie. "And that is how you get kids out of your way - offer them another victim."

As if my mother didn’t teach me that lesson long ago, she thought to herself. I practically raised Bobby for her. "I hope you lose that attitude before you have kids of your own," she told Dan. "Otherwise you’re going to have a very overworked wife."

"Trixie!" Honey, coming out of the house with more picnic provisions, spotted them and headed over. "Hi, guys." She hugged each of them in turn. "Happy Fourth of July!"

Mrs. Belden and Mart appeared. "Hey, everyone," Mart shouted. "We’re here!"

Dan stepped over to take Mrs. Belden’s bags from her, and Trixie seized the opportunity to grab Honey’s arm and whisper excitedly, "He called me his girlfriend!"

Honey quietly squealed, and hugged her friend again. "You guys look so good together, Trix!"

Trixie eyed Dan, who was at the moment laughing with Mart about something. "Well, I know Dan looks good. Dan looks very good." She realized she was practically drooling, and she turned back to find Honey grinning at her.

"You’re right about that. But then, Dan has always looked good. And you look fabulous, Trix. But that’s not what I meant - I meant you guys look happy together. Are you?"

Trixie smiled. "I am. I don’t know - ’’ she stopped when Dan turned her way and said something. "What did you say?" she asked.

He jogged over to her. "I said, didn’t you want to swim before you eat? I’m ready if you are."

Trixie’s goofy grin told Honey more than their conversation had. It was obvious she was in pretty deep. And when Trixie headed into the boathouse to change into her bathing suit, Honey saw with satisfaction, as Dan watched her go, that he was wearing a pretty goofy grin himself.

"How have you been, Dan?" Honey asked him.

"Great, Honey, how about you? You ready for life in the big city?" Dan wandered over to the other changing room, where he pulled off his t-shirt and hung it on a peg.

"Yeah, I think so," she told him. She set about the business of pulling grillables out of their places. "As long as you’re there to keep an eye on everything," she laughed.

"Brian’s going to be there, too, isn’t he?" Dan’s question sounded innocent enough, but if Honey didn’t know better, she’d say he was fishing for something - and she didn’t mean lake trout.

"Uh-huh," she replied casually. "I think he said he’s moving in August." There was no reason Dan had to know that August 29^th was clearly marked with bright red marker on her calendar.

Dan had come back around to stand near her, ostensibly to help with the unpacking. He glanced unobtrusively at her face as she spoke. He saw there what he had expected to see. He wondered why she and Brian weren’t dating.

He was searching for some remark he could make about the upcoming fall - hopefully an original-sounding one - but had come up with nothing by the time Trixie stepped out of the changing room.

 

Bleep, she looks good, he thought to himself. Of course, ‘bleep’ was not really the word he used, but you get the idea. "Sorry, Honey," he told her, setting down the stack of plates he held, "but I gots to go." He made a beeline for Trixie and led her to the dock.

Honey watched them flirt shamelessly in the water, splashing and dunking each other. Joan looked over at her and grinned. When Honey made the mistake of smiling back, Joan heaved herself up out of her chair and waddled over to the grill.

"They seem to be getting along, don’t they?" Joan murmured. "Is it serious?"

Honey took a deep breath and kept her eyes on the food in front of her. "They’ve known each other for a long time, Joan. They’re really very good friends."

"She used to date your brother, didn’t she?" Joan picked up a handful of the chips sitting out and settled herself down at the table. "Does Dan know about that?"

Honey smiled sweetly. "Of course. Dan and Trixie and Jim are all the best of friends." In an effort to end the discussion, Honey quickly asked, "How are you feeling, Joan? Are you through with the morning sickness?"

Joan rolled her eyes. "I wish. I don’t know how I’ve managed to gain so much weight - I can barely keep anything down. Now, tell me," she continued, in a lower tone of voice, "have they been dating long?"

If Honey had not been interrupted at that moment, she might have ended up being - horror of horrors - tactless. But she was interrupted, in a very welcome way.

"Hi, Honey," Brian said. "Where should I put this ice?"

"Oh, hi, Brian," she greeted him cheerfully. "You’re earlier than you thought you’d be. Um, just set the ice there for a second, and I’ll take care of it." She closed the lid on the grill, listening silently to Brian and Joan’s words of salutation to each other, and turned around.

"Joan, could you keep an eye on this for me, while Brian and I run this ice up to the house? Thanks." She grabbed a bag and waited for Brian to get the other. They took off up the hill.

"I could have gotten it myself, you know," Brian told her after a second.

"I know. But why should you have to?" Honey said. "You already went to the trouble of getting it for us."

"It was no problem," he assured her. "Are Moms and Mart and Trixie here yet? Oh - never mind, there’s Moms. I saw Bobby out near the stables when I drove up."

"Trixie and Dan are swimming, and Mart, last time I saw, was headed down the driveway to greet the Lynches." She smiled, wondering if she and Brian were thinking the same thing.

"Is Ben coming?" he asked.

"No, Ben can’t make it," she informed him. They shared a look. "He told Di that his partner flew in last night, and he felt bad about leaving him alone."

They entered the Manor House kitchen, neither one bothering to ask why Ben hadn’t just brought his partner with him. Parties were better without Ben, anyway, and Ric gave Brian the heebie-jeebies.

"So, is Jim here?" Brian asked as Honey emptied the bags into yet another cooler. He’d already spotted several outside, and there were four more on the kitchen floor.

"Right behind you, buddy," Jim said from the doorway. There was a huge grin on his freckled face.

"Hey, man," Brian smiled. He stepped forward to shake his hand. "How’s it going?"

Jim clapped him on the shoulder. "Great, great. How about you? Still working all the time?"

"Not as much as you, from what Honey tells me."

Jim shook his head modestly. "It’s a labor of love, you know? I don’t care how much I have to put into it, this school has been my dream since I was a kid."

Brian turned to take the newly-filled cooler from Honey. "Believe me, I know," Brian said over his shoulder. "Sometimes it seemed like it was never gonna happen, didn’t it? But now, here you are."

"Here I am, almost," Jim corrected him. He followed Brian and Honey out the back door. "But I’ve got faith. Everything’ll work out."

Honey murmured something about needing to get back to the grill, and hot-footed it in that direction. Brian gazed after her enviously. He was just about to ask Jim something, anything, when Mart appeared.

"Hey, guys," he said breathlessly, "you interested in a game of volleyball? Di and I are trying to get something going."

Glancing at Di, who stood behind his brother, Brian felt the urge to remark that it was pretty obvious that they already had something going, but he declined. "Sure," he said instead. "Let me put this thing down."

He headed in the direction Honey had gone just moments before, and his little troop trailed behind. He snickered to himself when he heard Mart asking Jim about his school.

When they arrived at the picnic table, Honey was just announcing that the first round of food was done. Miraculously, the scattered hordes heard and descended upon the spot. Bobby appeared with the Lynch twins - both sets - and Moms showed up with all of the other parents. Regan and Joan were already seated, and Brian had to search a moment to find their kids. They were being rounded up by Trixie and Dan. Brian wondered who took care of them when Regan and Joan were the only ones around.

Brian turned around and knocked into Mart. "Whoa, sorry," he said. "Why are you riding so close?"

"You stopped too fast," Mart complained. "My brakes aren’t as young as they used to be, you know." He surveyed the scene. "We’ll play after lunch," he decided, ditching Brian and leading Di to the food.

Brian fell into line behind one of the Lynch boys. He had just about decided it was Terry, when Mr. Lynch called out that name and the other one, three people ahead, answered. Oh, well. It wasn’t like he would have had anything to say to either of them, anyway.

"I hear we’re playing volleyball after lunch," Dan said from behind him.

Brian turned around and noted Dan’s arm around Trixie’s shoulders. He nodded. "You guys in?" he asked.

"A-ffirmative," Trixie answered in her best bratty-little-girl-from-Aliens voice. She gestured toward the table. "You’re up," she told Brian.

"Oh." He quickly filled his plate and smiled a thanks to Honey. Then, looking to get a drink out of one of the dozen or so coolers on the lawn, he quickly realized that there was a roadblock in front of each one. Most of the roadblocks involved at least one Lynch, so he opted to hold out on the drink for now. He found a seat on the dock and commenced eating.

Trixie joined him. "What’s with all the Lynches?" she asked. "Why do they have to use the coolers as tables?"

Brian shook his head. "You got me. You want me to go move someone and get you a drink?"

"No, thanks. Dan’s getting one for me." She took a bite of her hot dog. They both watched in amusement as Dan displaced Terry - or Larry. Who knew? - and fished around for an unnecessarily long time. He came up with three Pepsis and smiled obnoxiously at the boy before joining them.

"Here, Brian, I got you one," he said, offering him one of the cans.

His mouth full of food, Brian didn’t try to thank Dan, but he accepted gratefully. He watched as Dan settled down very close to Trixie.

"Can I join you?" Honey asked. She stood behind Brian, a plate of food in her hands.

Trixie scooted over, somehow managing to get even closer to Dan without actually sitting on his lap. She patted the seat beside her and Honey gratefully plopped down.

"Great eats, Honey," Dan complimented her. Brian and Trixie echoed his sentiments.

She smiled. "Thanks. There’s plenty more, if you want seconds." As delicately as she could, she proceeded to chow down on her hamburger.

"Did you guys see where Mart and Di got off to?" Dan asked. "I wanted to ask him something."
Brian shook his head while Trixie nodded. "I think I saw them walking over toward the stable. They seemed pretty engrossed in their conversation."

Everyone was silent for a while, chewing their food and trying to avoid each other’s eyes. They were all, especially Honey, acutely conscious of the fact that Diana’s fiance’s cousin was sitting with them.

Honey finally remembered something. "Oh, Dan, your birthday is coming up, isn’t it?"

"The eighteenth," Trixie volunteered. "But he’s working all day."

Brian took a swallow of his pop and asked, "What day of the week is it?"

"Tuesday. But he doesn’t have a free day until that Friday."

Dan laughed. "That’s cool. Dating you is sort of like having a personal secretary, Trix."

"Well, it comes with a pretty good benefits package," she replied before thinking. She could almost feel Brian’s disapproving thoughts coalescing in the air above them. Trixie hadn’t yet figured out if he was afraid she was some kind of hussy, or if he just didn’t like the idea of his little sister dating, but he definitely did not like insinuations.

"Are you guys going to do something special on the weekend?" Honey asked, you guessed it, tactfully. She nibbled at her burger as if she hadn’t noticed anything amiss.

Dan finished the last of his drink and set the empty can on top of his plate. "Yeah, I think so. The big 2-7 has to be rung in properly, you know. I’ll probably come back to Sleepyside for a few days." He stood up. "Anyone else have any trash you want me to toss?"

Trixie jumped up to join him. Brian and Honey, still finishing up, declined the offer.

"I hear there’s a volleyball game after lunch," Honey remarked after they left.

"Yeah, I guess so," Brian replied. "I just hope I’m still able to move after all this food."

Honey smiled at him and popped the last bite into her mouth. "Well, come on," she said, standing up, "let’s go find the rest of ‘em."

 

 

CHAPTER NINE

 

Round after round of matches were played, with everyone switching teams so often it was impossible to name a winner. The only thing of note which occurred was when Jim, leaping frog-like into the air in an effort to spike the ball, landed squarely on Larry (or Terry). The young boy had to be helped off the court by his sisters.

After a particularly long volley, which resulted in the final score of 15-13, Mart dropped to the ground and gasped, "That’s game." The entire competition had lasted practically all afternoon, with only a break for dinner at about seven o’clock. It was now after eight and everyone was exhausted and sweaty. One by one the other players joined him on the ground.

"We should take a swim," Honey suggested weakly. Several people nodded but nobody attempted to get up.

"Oh, come on," Mr. Wheeler teased from the lawn chairs. "Don’t tell me you’re tired already!"

Roger teased laughingly, "Well, Matt, you know, they’re not kids anymore. Maybe I should go fetch the wheelchairs."

Brian stood abruptly. "I’m going swimming," he announced, walking toward the water. "I’ll bet ten dollars that none of you can beat me there."

Mart, Jim, Dan, and Regan scrambled to their feet, but Brian started running before they’d made it to a standing position. By the time the others made it to the dock, all the fellers were already in. Mart hadn’t even taken the time to take off his shoes.

Looking around at all the people who were so dear to her, Honey sighed happily.

It had been too long since they had all been here together. She dove cleanly into the water, since she was an expert swimmer, and came up near her brother.

Jim reached over and ruffled her wet hair. "Hey, sis," he said with a smile. "Having a good time?"

"I’m having a great time," she laughed. "Even though I know I’m going to be too sore to move tomorrow."

"Hey, Honey!" Dan shouted. "Look out!"

Honey whirled around. Mart’s toypedo was headed for her at a rapid clip. With a short screamlet she dove sideways and left Jim wide open for the blow. He took the hit, with all the appropriate death gurgles and movements.

Trixie swam to him. "Oh, Jim," she mourned. She pretended to look upon him sadly, but it immediately became obvious that she was only there to retrieve the missile. When she reached for it, though, Jim’s eyes flew open and he snatched her hand. Trixie screamed a laugh, or laughed a scream; it was hard to tell which was the overriding noise.

Jim spun her around and held the toypedo to her throat. "No one make a move," he announced. "If anyone tries to be a hero, the girl gets it."

Everyone in the water moved at the same time, making as much of a commotion as possible.

"Hey, he said don’t move!" Trixie complained. "What is this?"

"Sorry, Trix," Jim grinned. "I guess now we know how much you mean to everyone, huh?" He let her go and handed her the toy. Then, when she was about to swim back out to where the action was (read: Dan’s location), Jim grabbed her shoulders and dunked her.

She came up sputtering and yelling. She was of course prepared to avenge herself, but she quickly ascertained that it wouldn’t be necessary. Bobby and Brian each had one of Jim’s arms, and Mart now held the toypedo. He offered it to her, but she generously allowed him to do the honors.

After a few hits and a few dunkings, Jim cried uncle. However, since he had no living relations besides Juliana, no uncle was around to save his red booty. Finally the Beldens released him, and everyone began a mass exodus out of the water. (It probably had something to do with the Baby Ruth Honey had dropped, which Dan had quickly labeled "dirty!")

"So, are we all going into town to watch the fireworks?" Di asked as they toweled off.

"Can’t you see them from here?" Jim asked. "I thought we’d set up on the front lawn."

"Oh, Jim," Honey complained. "We always go into town. It’s tradition."

Mart laughed. "Or anyway, it used to be a tradition, right, Honey? I think the last time we were all here for the Fourth of July was, what, seven or eight years ago."

"Well," Honey sniffed, "that’s all the more reason for us to go. For old times’ sake."

Brian looked around, then in a low voice, said, "Let’s make it just us, though, huh? Let everyone else stay here to watch."

Honey smiled happily at him and nodded. "Just the Bob-Whites."

"Too bad we don’t have the station wagon anymore," Dan lamented wryly. He was speaking, of course, of the almost brand-new station wagon Mr. Wheeler had given the club, back when Brian and Jim and Dan had been new drivers, which had always been kept at Manor House. He pulled his t-shirt on. "Should we all just drive our own vehicles?"

"No way," Di told him. "We’ll take my parents’ limo! We drove it today so that the whole family could ride together." She hurried to finish drying her hair, then hung the towel on a hook.

Jim looked concerned. "Are you sure that would be okay with them, Di?"

Di was already on the move, headed toward her dad. "Sure," she said over her shoulder. "Let me just go get the keys."

The others completed their transformations from wet to dry while she did the deed. In less than five minutes they were all getting into the car.

"Where to?" Di asked her passengers as she steered the Great White Hope out of the driveway and onto Glen Rd. "Same place we used to go?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Honey looked around for confirmation. "That park behind the elementary school? Can you still see them from there?"

No one could say.

"Well, we’ll find out. Buford Park it is."

No one had remembered to grab patio chairs from Manor House, but, fortunately, the limo was stocked with an inordinate amount of blankets.

"What is with all these covers?" Dan wanted to know. He was helping Di disentangle a few of the stragglers. "There’s enough here for everyone to have their own."

Di shrugged. "Daddy likes to be prepared. I don’t think we’ll need these big ones, Dan. I’ll just put them back." After doing just that, she joined the rest of the group, scattered out in clumps in the gathering twilight. "Can I sit with you, Mart?" She plopped down almost before hearing his answer.

Surveying the scene around her, she noted Trixie and Dan sharing a blanket, Honey and Brian sitting very close together on their own small separates, and Jim stretched out on the bare grass. He had been offered a blanket but declined, saying the grass made a perfect cushion. In years gone by, those seating arrangements had been switched a little, with Trixie and Jim sharing and Dan relegated to a neighboring orbit.

"Oh, Honey, I keep meaning to ask you, have you heard from Miss Trask lately?" Di had kicked off her sandals, and, much to the disgust of everyone else, was busy picking grass clippings out from between her toes.

"I had a letter from her last week, as a matter of fact. We’ve been writing to each other ever since she left." Honey wedged her feet farther inside her own shoes, and tucked them out of Brian’s sight.

"When was that?" Trixie joined in the conversation. "Right after you started college, right?"

Honey nodded. "But she left because she was offered another position. The timing was coincidental."

Jim looked as though he disagreed. "I don’t know, Sis. I think she probably realized you weren’t a little girl anymore, so she started looking for another job."

"Jim, how can you say that? She hadn’t really been my governess for years before that. She was practically running the entire household by the time I was fifteen."

"Still," he persisted, "didn’t she leave to work for someone with little kids? Maybe she wanted to do both: be a governess and a housekeeper."

"Actually, she was never very clear about where she was going. I always just assumed she was around little kids because she would mention grandchildren."

"Uh-oh," Mart interjected. "So she had kids of her own the whole time. I always thought there was something she wasn’t telling us."

"Yeah," Dan joked. "Come to think of it, she did leave Sleepyside that one time. She probably went home to check on the kids, let the dog out, that kind of stuff."

Honey rolled her eyes. "I meant the grandkids of her employers."

"So where exactly is she?" Brian asked. "I mean, there must be a return address on the envelopes."

"P.O. box, actually. In New York City," Honey told him. "The family travels a lot."

Further conversation was forestalled by the beginning of the fireworks. The next 20 minutes was filled with "oohs" and "aahs," and the occasional, "Dud!"

Honey, casting a surreptitious glance Brian’s way, found him casting surreptitious glances at Trixie and Dan, and Mart and Di. Amused, she turned to check them out for herself.

Dan and Trixie looked innocent enough, like a dating couple. He lay on his back, his hands under his head, and Trixie was using his stomach as a pillow. It was remarkable, really, how comfortable they appeared to be with each other. As Trixie happily pointed out her favorite pyrotechnic displays, Dan responded lazily, often with a joke of some sort.

Mart and Di were another matter. They looked anything but innocent, despite the fact that they were not involved in any PDAs. Their postures and relative positions fairly screamed attraction. Di took every chance she got to touch him in some way, and Mart took every opportunity to say something which would earn him a light slap or restraining hand.

After the fireworks ended the friends were reluctant to leave. They remained in their spots, lounging and talking.

"Hey, Dan," Jim said. "Did they have Fourth of July celebrations over in Germany?"

"Sure, we had parties on the base. Some of the people from the town even came for it. They were really into America over there." He laughed about something, temporarily dislodging Trixie’s head. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked over at him.

"What’s so funny?" she asked. Everyone else looked curious, as well.

"Nothing," he laughed, then cleared his throat. "Nothing." When he saw that nobody was going to be satisfied with that, he sat up with a melodramatic sigh. "I was propositioned, all right?"

Mart hooted (surprise, surprise). "By the Germans?"

"Not all of them," Dan laughed. "A couple of local girls. They were looking for an American husband." He squirmed a bit, but he admitted with a grin, "And one guy hit on me, too."

This time everyone hooted long and loud at Dan’s expense. It wasn’t even debatable.

They lay there for a while longer, talking and reminiscing. Di giggled suddenly. "Hey, Trix, Honey, do you guys remember the Independence Day parade the summer after our senior year?"

Trixie and Honey shouted with laughter as Di, giggling harder than ever, stood and began to mime…something. The boys couldn’t begin to understand what she was doing, but Honey and Trixie laughed even more. They were practically screaming, clutching at their stomachs and begging Di to stop.

Finally Di collapsed on the ground and rolled with laughter for several moments, after which all three of them somehow managed to wind down at the same time, and all with an identical sigh. They wiped at their eyes, tired giggles escaping every so often.

"What?" Brian and Jim demanded as one.

The three girls made eye contact, and struggled to control themselves. Di clutched her bottom lip in her teeth, Trixie pressed her own lips together until they turned pale, and Honey actually slapped her hand over her mouth. In the end it proved impossible, of course. Nothing could have stopped them from exploding again.

Dan was intrigued. Mart was fascinated. Brian was absolutely bursting with curiosity. Jim had no idea what to think. The four of them waited, but even after the girls had calmed down they made no effort to explain.

"Are you going to tell us?" Dan asked finally.

Trixie looked reluctant, but, with Honey and Di’s encouragement, went so far as to admit that it involved Mr. Lytell, his parade float, and farts. Lots of farts.

"Well." Brian looked around. "Well."

Jim stood up. "It’s getting awfully late, guys," he announced. "Ready to go?"

Di jumped up guiltily. "Oh! Mom and Dad probably want to go home!"

Everyone quickly got to their feet, gathering blankets and shoes as they did so. Then they raced to the limo, where they pushed and shoved their way in. Laughing, the seven friends made their way back to Manor House.

 

CHAPTER TEN

It was a warm, purplish evening toward the end of August, and Brian was enjoying it to the utmost as he sat on the back porch of Crabapple Farm watching the sunset. He had the house to himself: Mrs. Belden was out with Roger, Trixie with Dan, and Bobby with Mart, Di, and the Lynch boys. Those five had spent much of the summer in each other’s company, usually going to the baseball diamond at the high school to hit the ball around. Brian had gone with them on occasion, but had declined their invitation tonight. Today had been his last day of work at Dr. Ferris’s office, since he would be leaving for New York in a week’s time to begin his new job there. After driving home from the office for the last time, all he’d felt like doing was loosening his tie and sitting for a little while.

He sat back, resting on one hand while he took a sip of pop with the other. >From his vantage-place on the porch he could see much of the backyard, including the apple orchard and, close to that, the final resting spot of Reddy, the Beldens’ dearly departed Irish setter. Reddy hadn’t outlasted Mr. Belden very long -- actually only by a few weeks. At the time the dog’s death had seemed to make it that much harder for everybody, but when Brian thought about it now, he realized how much he’d hated that dog and how little he missed him. The rest of his family remembered the old dog fondly, substituting the descriptive "lovable" for "disobedient." Really, though, all he was was a bad dog.

Brian remembered how Reddy used to wait until everyone had gone to bed and then sneak out of his doghouse to get into the trashcans. Brian would see his dad cleaning up the mess in the morning before going to work, always swearing he was going to teach that dog a lesson. And every time, Reddy would slink away somewhere, hiding long enough so he wouldn’t be punished.

Brian shook his head at the memory. Raising his can in a kind of salute, he said,

"Here’s one piece of trash you’ll never get your grubby paws on, boy." Then he took another swig.

As he readjusted himself to try to find a more comfortable position, he felt the floppy disk he had placed in his pocket earlier. It was Trixie’s, a copy of the file she had saved on his computer at Dr. Ferris’s office. Trixie had been coming into the office with him one or two nights a week on a fairly regular basis, using his computer both to update his charts for him and to do a little computing of her own. Every night when she came in she added a little more to her own personal file, the one only she and Brian knew about. Brian had made a copy for her before deleting it from the computer, which now belonged to Dr. Ferris’s new partner. He carefully extracted the disk from his pocket and placed it on top of his empty pop can.

The sun was nearly down by now, and Brian reflected on how early it had begun to get dark. Yet another summer had almost slipped away, and once again he had spent most of it in an office. He looked forward to the time when he wouldn’t be constantly working - whenever that would be.

Also visible from the back porch was the impressive spread that Honey called home, and it was upon this that his gaze rested next. The Wheeler mansion really was huge. Brian tried to remember how many rooms it had-something like twenty-seven? He couldn’t imagine what you would do with that many rooms, but the Wheelers had always seemed to find uses for them. It was like a whole other universe that they lived in.

But Honey was different. While her parents played the part of rich socialites very well, never seeming at home unless surrounded by the spoils of wealth, Honey could act at home anywhere. What’s more, you got the feeling it wasn’t just an act. Honey had a way of making everybody feel like a dear friend, whether she’d just met them or known them for years. Once upon a time, Honey’s sweet nature had almost convinced him that he was more than just a friend, but at some point he had realized otherwise. He figured that anyone who was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of Honey’s affections would know for sure.

Brian thought she had chosen her profession very well, since he could think of no greater asset for a teacher than to be able to be everyone’s b.f. He hoped that her choice to teach inner-city kids wouldn’t have any ill effects on her rosy outlook or her friendliness. He had been very glad to hear that she and Trixie intended to live together in the big apartment the Wheelers owned in New York. It would be good for Honey to have someone to talk with, and if there was one thing Trixie could do, it was talk.

Brian’s eyes swept over the exterior of Manor House, searching for the window in Honey’s room. It was lit up, like most of the windows, but he couldn’t see inside. Not that he would purposefully spy on Honey, but he assumed she was in there since, like him, she had little else to do.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when she touched him on the shoulder and said, "Hello, Brian."

"Honey! Where did you come from?"

"I was out for a stroll and I saw your car in the driveway, so I stopped by to say hi. I could see you through the front door." She glanced around. "It’s a pretty evening, isn’t it?" She sat down next to him and looked around for a few minutes. "Your yard is so pretty. I love the smell of apple trees when all the apples are ripe."

"It’s nice," Brian agreed lamely. They fell silent again, staring out into the yard. After a few minutes, Brian’s eyes began to wander - slightly - over to Honey to try to see what she was doing. As far as he could tell, she was just staring into the yard. He was just grateful that she hadn’t come upon him in time to hear his rather callous remark to a long-dead dog. At least, he realized worriedly, he hoped she hadn’t.

Brian had been right before, when he’d figured that Honey didn’t have anything to do. Bored, she had decided about an hour ago to take a walk. Everything was fine, until it started to get dark, and then Honey began to remember every scary story she’d ever heard. She couldn’t believe her luck when she’d seen Brian’s car parked in the driveway, because she didn’t see how she was going to make that long, dark trek up to her house alone. The night is not scary when you’re with other people, but when you’re by yourself…

Having interrupted Brian’s solitude, she hesitated to try to converse with him. As pathetic as it sounded, she was content just to be near him. She wished she could snuggle, but some things are strictly off limits.

If Honey were a lesser woman, she would have wondered why, with all the romance that was going around that summer, she got none of it. However, she was very happy for Trixie and Dan and for Mart and Di - because, even though Di was still "getting over" her fresh breakup with Ben, it was obvious that Mart was speeding that process along. And while this summer had been a busy one for the aforesaid couples, it had also been an instructive one for Honey. At some point, it had finally hit her like a ton of bricks: Brian didn’t love her and he never would. She could bake him chicken dinners from now until pigs flew and it still wouldn’t change the way he felt about her, which was basically like she was an old friend.

Brian was just about to suggest that they go in to get away from the mosquitoes when they both heard the loud voices of Bobby, Terry, and Larry, returned from their game. Honey and Brian exchanged smiles, and she finally announced her intention of going home. To her great relief, Brian offered to drive her, and she accepted gratefully.

When Brian returned from Manor House, he found the boys lying on various pieces of furniture around the living room, looking tired and sweaty. "Did you guys ditch Mart and Di?" he asked.

"They ditched us!" Larry - who was wearing a shirt with the legend L. Lynch displayed prominently, and was therefore definitively identifiable - tried to sit up. "They practically dropped us off at the end of Glen Road, then took off."

"Dude, did they even say where they were going?" Bobby began to unlace his tennis shoes. "I don’t think they did." He looked up at the other twin. "Larry, did they say anything to you?"

"Well," said Brian, wondering a bit angrily why someone would wear a shirt with someone else’s name on it, "they probably just went to see a movie or something. Do you guys want me to drive you home?"

The boys refused the offer, saying they could get home faster by walking and cutting across yards. Then they continued to lounge about, until finally Mrs. Lynch called to ask if they were spending the night there. Brian, who fielded the phone call, then invited them to do just that, and they accepted. With that settled, Brian went to sleep.

Several hours later, he was awakened with a start by the ringing of the phone. He jumped up to answer it on the first ring, with a hurried, "Hullo?"

"B.? I’m sorry, man, did I wake you up? What time is it there?" Mart’s voice sounded tinny and far away.

"What do you mean, ‘there?’" Brian asked, sitting down on his bed. "Where are you?"

Mart’s laugh sounded a little fake and forced. "Um, believe it or not…I’m in Las Vegas."

Brian had no immediate response. Finally, he asked, "Why?"

Laughing again, Mart answered, "I got married."

Brian slapped his hand to his forehead. "What do you mean, Mart? Married to whom?" In his sleep-fogged brain he could think of just one person. "Mary?"

"What?! No." Mart sounded slightly horrified.

A thought occurred to Brian. "It’s Di, isn’t it?"

Mart’s silence confirmed Brian’s suspicion. "How did this happen? What about Ben?"

"She broke up with Ben last week, remember?"

Brian guffawed. "More like two or three days ago. And I thought they were still in the discussion stage."

"Well, now the discussion’s over," Mart replied. "I think that’ll be pretty clear to him."

Brian saw what he meant. "Well, man, congratulations, I guess. Tell Di I said ‘Welcome to da family.’"

"Yeah, family," Mart echoed softly. "Thanks. I will. But there is just one more thing. I need a favor."

"What?" Brian sounded wary.

"It’s the Lynches. They don’t know yet."

"Well, you better call them."

"Di thinks that it would be better coming from Moms. She has a point. You know how excitable Mrs. Lynch is."

"Yeah, and you don’t want her yelling at Di, you want her yelling at Moms. Is that it?"

"Pretty much. Do you think Moms will do it?"

"Yeah, I’m sure it’ll get taken care of." He cleared his throat. "Well, congratulations. I’ll see you when you get back. Have fun," he added dryly.

"I intend to," Mart responded, laughing. "Later, man."

As Brian hung up the phone, fully intending to go back to sleep, he heard the unmistakable sound of his mother clearing her throat.

"So, who is going to be yelling at Moms?" She looked slightly amused, obviously totally unaware of what was coming next.

Brian didn’t mince words. "Mrs. Lynch is. Mart and Di got hitched in Vegas last night, and you’re supposed to tell her parents."

Mrs. B. let loose a shrill, blood-curdling scream.

 

It was deemed best to tell Di’s parents face to face, so Mrs. Belden invited them, and Jenny and Penny, to breakfast. Terry and Larry already had an inkling that something was up, considering they had been sleeping in the guest room upstairs when Mrs. Belden’s bright and early banshee yell had jolted the entire household.

"So," Helen Belden said brightly after the waffles and sausage had disappeared, "we have some exciting news for you."

Brian, pouring the water through for another pot of coffee, shook his head and hid a smile. Mr. and Mrs. Lynch waited patiently, and their children exchanged questioning looks with each other and Bobby. Mrs. Belden’s smile faltered just a bit, but she pressed gamely on.

"We had a call from Mart this morning." She indicated Brian, and for a second he was sure she was going to tell him to take it away. "It seems," she said as casually as she could, busying herself with wiping the counter, "that he eloped last night." She looked around at all of them as if she had just delivered the punchline of a joke, mouth open and eyebrows raised.

Everyone gasped. Brian could tell that Mrs. Lynch was horrified to think that a child could do such a thing to his mother. All the kids - Bobby included - were shocked and a little titillated. Brian’s gaze wandered to Mr. Lynch, curious to see how the big man would react. Very obviously, he was a step ahead of everyone else in guessing how this concerned them. He was turning purple.

"Whoa!" Bobby shouted. "Mart got hitched?" He turned to Terry and Larry. "Di’s gonna freak!"

Brian stepped forward, positive that his mother was either about to backhand Bobby, or faint. She reached out and clutched Brian’s arm. At this point, Mrs. Lynch seemed to get the picture, too.

"Di," she said faintly. "Where’s Diana?" The silence that ensued proved that everyone else had caught up.

"I guess now we know where they were off to in such a hurry last night," Terry offered.

Mrs. Lynch’s scream, while not having the impact Mrs. Belden’s had had, was superior in tone and volume.

 

Honey and Trixie made plans with Brian and Dan to help them move into their apartment about two weeks after the surprise wedding. They were able to get everything they needed into the back of Brian’s truck, mainly because Mrs. Wheeler would let them take no old furniture. As a graduation gift to Honey, she had had the entire apartment totally refurnished.

Brian’s truck sat loaded and waiting in the Crabapple Farm driveway as the four tried to decide who would ride in the pickup and who would not. Because the girls planned to take taxis to get around in the city, they didn’t have a car, but because Brian’s truck could only seat three - and even that not very comfortably - one more vehicle was required.

The obvious solution was the one they had settled on: they were going to borrow Mrs. Belden’s sedan. Dan realized quite suddenly, though (and quite correctly), that Brian had been eyeing his motorcycle very interestedly.

"Hey, Brian," he offered, "why don’t you let me take the truck, and you take my bike? Then I won’t have to come back here to get it."

Brian looked very pleasantly surprised, but shook his head. "No, I better not - I don’t have a license to drive a motorcycle." He started to hand back the key Dan had tossed his way.

"Oh, come on, Brian, go ahead," Trixie said. "What Dan’s not telling you is that he’s been dying to get his hands on your truck."

Brian seemed less than convinced, but Trixie’s quick remark had a ring of truth to it. Still, he hesitated.

Taking Brian’s keys out of his open palm, Dan reassured him, "Besides, if anyone pulls you over I’ll just flash my badge and say you’re on official business."

That was good enough for Brian. He agreed, settling in and familiarizing himself with all the knobs. Then, just before they left, Dan employed his second flash of insight and suggested that perhaps Honey would like a ride on the Hog. Honey and Brian stiffened immediately.

"Oh, not me," Honey replied quickly. "Those things scare me to death." Just in case they thought she could be talked into it, she headed for the passenger side of the pickup as she spoke. She ended with as nervous a smile as she could manufacture.

Trixie pursed her lips in silent surprise and looked at Dan.

"Well, let’s get going then," Dan announced. He opened the other door on the truck and ushered Trixie to the middle before sliding in behind the wheel. He indicated to Brian that he should lead the way, and they were off.

Honey had the uneasy feeling that she’d been rude. She was silent for most of the ride, but fortunately Trixie and Dan’s constant chatter covered for her. Dan did a good job of keeping right behind Brian, so at least Honey had something to watch.

Unbeknownst to her, Dan had a pretty good idea of what she was staring at, so he tried to accommodate her for the most part. Then he realized there was more than one way to skin a cat. (One that didn’t even require the Book of Shadows.)

"Does anyone else want tacos?" he suddenly asked his passengers. They were stopped behind Brian at a light, and a familiar-looking restaurant on the corner was apparently beckoning to Dan. Without waiting for a response, he honked to get Brian’s attention, then turned into the parking lot.

"What’s up?" Brian asked as he dismounted from the bike.

"Tacos." Dan sounded shocked that Brian would even ask. "Come on, let’s go grab some."

After they had finished their food and Trixie and Honey had used the restroom, they returned to the vehicles, prepared to resume the previous seating arrangements. However, Dan surprised everyone by asking if he could drive the bike. Brian agreed, and Trixie jumped ship immediately. That left Brian and Honey alone in the truck. Dan had indeed skinned the cat.

 

"That explains the tacos," Brian commented as he adjusted the seat of the truck and tested out the mirrors. "He just wanted to get his bike back."

Honey laughed, a pathetic, dry, little laugh. "Guess so." She was squeezed as far as possible into the corner of the seat, feeling very uncomfortable without knowing exactly why. If she had had to guess, though, she would have pointed to the shameless kiss, witnessed by both her and Brian, that Trixie pasted on Dan before he started the bike.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Trixie came up for air and the bike started rolling.

"Here we go," Brian said softly, pulling out after them.

‘Okay,’ Honey thought, ‘I can handle this. Only forty minutes to the apartment. Get a hold of yourself.’ Realizing the need to calm herself, she concentrated on making some small talk. "So, I’ve never seen your apartment. Is it close to the hospital?"

"Yeah, it is -- only about five minutes away, actually."

"That’s good. That’ll be a nice commute for you. What street is it on?"

"Fifth."

"Oh. That’s kind of close to Dan’s place, isn’t it?"

Brian nodded. They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then: "How about you - is your apartment pretty close to the school?"

"Um, no-not really. But that’s okay. I was so happy to not have to try and find an apartment."

"I know Trixie was, too," Brian told her, turning to her to give her a grateful look. "She really appreciates your letting her stay there with you."

"Oh…" Honey was flustered first by Brian’s gaze and then by his smile. "I appreciate her staying with me," was all Honey could think to say.

Another pause.

"So how do you like working at St.Vincent’s?" ‘We’re going to have a pleasant conversation if it kills me!’ Honey thought.

"It’s a lot different than St. Gerard’s, that’s for sure. There’s always something to do. I like it, though."

"That’s good. Do you see yourself staying there for a long time?"

"Oh, I don’t know. I know that coming to New York is good experience for me, and I’m happy to have the chance to see how much I’ve learned, but I’ve always pictured myself setting up a practice in Sleepyside someday. But, like I said, I don’t know right now. What about you - I mean, I know you haven’t started yet, but do you think you’ll like teaching in a big public school?"

"Well, I’ve heard lots of people say that it’s a very rewarding experience. And if anything can toughen me up it will be teaching in New York," she added, laughing.

"I think you’re plenty tough already." Brian’s statement was made smilingly, but it had a hint of a warning to it. "Don’t you?"

"Oh, sure," she replied. "Maybe ‘tough’ isn’t the right word -maybe I should have said, ‘mature.’" Honey didn’t think she could stand it if Brian told her she looked plenty mature already, so she quickly wrapped up the conversation. "Would you like to listen to some music?" she asked him, reaching into a box of CDs she’d brought with.

The answer was so unexpected that she actually had selected a CD and was about to put it in, when she realized he had said "no." She stared openmouthed and waited for the other shoe.

He looked about as uncomfortable as she had ever seen him. "Um, actually, Honey," he said, squirming in his seat, "I wanted to ask you something." Pause. "Has Trixie said anything to you about…um…her and Dan? I mean," he amended too loudly, "how serious are they, do you know?" He knew he sounded like an idiot, but he didn’t know how else to phrase it.

Honey had absolutely no idea what he was asking or how she should answer. "I think they really enjoy each other’s company, if that’s what you mean." It was posed as a question, almost.

"Do you think they’re thinking about marriage?" he asked bluntly, turning very serious eyes upon her.

It suddenly occurred to Honey that Brian seemed to be asking how intimate Dan and his sister were, and she couldn’t believe such a thing was happening. She felt like putting her hands to her head and playing the part of Lt. Jack Schaeffer (‘This is not happening’), but she couldn’t do…anything. She couldn’t move, talk, think, or, she thought suddenly in a panic, breathe. Time stopped, and she saw no way out.

"Cause I’m just thinking," he told her, "Trixie’s a little young. Would she be willing to settle down so early? And what about her career? And Dan’s apartment isn’t in the best neighborhood - is he thinking about a family?" He finally concluded, looking so concerned that Honey had to laugh despite herself. This man a gutter brain? Look who’s talking!

Brian looked confused. "What?"

"I’m sorry," she apologized, "I’m not laughing at you. Those are all very good questions. To be honest, I don’t know how serious they are. But I can almost guarantee that both of them will think long and hard before taking a step like marriage." She gave him a smile that was a mixture of kindness and confidence.

Suddenly Brian laughed. "In other words, it’s none of my business, Trixie can take care of herself." At Honey’s horrified denial he chuckled again. "Thanks. I’m sure Trixie would have told me the same thing, in not such nice terms."

"No problem." Her relief was so overwhelming that all discomfort disappeared like a fart in the wind. The final twenty minutes of the trip were as comfortable as the first twenty had been uncomfortable.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

 

"Honey, did you want to read this?" Trixie waved an envelope at Honey, who had just emerged from the bathroom after taking a shower. It was early October, and the two girls had been living together in New York for about a month. Trixie was curled up on the couch in preparation for the premiere of Mart’s show, and Honey was racing against the clock to make it to the couch before the show began.

"Mart’s letter?" Honey asked, taking the envelope from her as she sat down. "If you don’t mind…"

"Oh, here it is," Trixie interrupted her, pointing at the TV. "The show’s starting."

"I’ll read it later," Honey said quickly, leaning back.

Together they watched as Mart’s familiar figure filled the screen. He had a monkey draped unceremoniously around his neck, and he looked extremely happy as he did the intro to his show.

The girls got a kick out of Mart’s antics as he cavorted through the jungles of South America. It was immediately obvious that the camera loved him, and Mart, in turn, loved the camera. One mishap occurred, however, when he tried to approach a snake from the wrong angle, and came away with a pretty nasty bite.    Fortunately, Trixie had taught Di how to suck the venom from toes, so everything came out all right.

The show ended with clips of Mart and Di behind the scenes, and it was clear how very happy they both were. Di was never without a smile, and Mart looked like a man who had everything he could ever want. Trixie wondered if Mary or Ben had tuned in, unable to decide if it would be better or worse for them to see their old flames so, well, flaming.

Mart sounded happy in his letter, too, as was evident to Honey when she read it later. It was postmarked from Ecuador, which had been the site of the first episode’s filming. Di had written a few lines to say how awesome it was, how happy she was to be using the Spanish she had learned in Mexico, etc. Mart wrote about the wildlife, the peculiarities of taping a show, etc. They had signed it, "Your brother and sister," which Honey thought was a nice touch. All in all, it was a very satisfying letter.

It was so weird, even six weeks after the fact, to think of Mart and Di as married. Honey couldn’t have been more shocked when Trixie had called her with the news. Di had been a little shy about telling Honey, since she was Ben’s cousin, but it had taken Mart’s telling her that for her to remember poor Ben at all. She was more concerned with Mart and Di and their families, to whom she felt closer than her own cousin.

Mr. Wheeler had felt the same way. He’d told Honey that he wanted to go to extra lengths to assure everyone that he and Mrs. Wheeler bore Mart and Di no animosity. He had even sent his own private plane to go pick the two up from Nevada, saying he had business there anyway. The truth was, he knew that Mart had blown his wad flying there in the first place, and he still had to arrange his own transportation to Florida, where he was catching a prearranged flight to Ecuador.

"Believe it or not, Honey," Mr. Wheeler told her, looking almost like he wished he wasn’t, "your mother and I were in this very same predicament, once upon a time."

"You guys didn’t elope!" Honey protested, her eyes wide. "I’ve seen the pictures! You had a big church wedding."

"Yes, but we eloped first. I was so worried that your mother wasn’t going to go through with it that I asked her to come down with me to the courthouse a couple weekends before the ceremony. I figured, if she had already said ‘I do’ once, she would have an easier time doing it later." He laughed. "I never told your grandparents."

Honey, getting ready for work the morning after Mart’s premiere performance, shook her head at the memory of that conversation. She thought of what her grandmother would say if she knew her son, Matthew David Wheeler III, had gotten hitched at the county courthouse. Her Nana was even more prudish about such things than her mother.

Since moving to New York, Honey had had the - ahem - pleasure of her grandmother’s company much more often than she’d had in Sleepyside. Geraldine Wheeler owned and lived in the upper three floors of the building that housed Wheeler Enterprises Inc., the business she co-owned with her son, Honey’s dad. Matthew Wheeler II, Honey’s grandfather, had passed on about ten years ago, leaving his widow very, very well provided for. She could have spent the rest of her days eating bon-bons and catalogue shopping, never stepping outside her door, had she chosen to do so. Instead, she’d become involved in her deceased husband’s business, assuming his role in the boardrooms of a dozen different businesses. When she wasn’t working, she was attending to her active social life. And now that Honey was within a convenient driving distance, her social life was quickly becoming Honey’s social life, too. Already Honey had been dragged along to enough dinner parties to last her a lifetime. Nana insisted on introducing her granddaughter to every Tom, Dick, and Harry in fashionable New York society. Honey had the distinct impression that Nana was doing so in an attempt to marry her off.

Thinking about Nana made Honey groan inwardly. It reminded her of the charity dinner Nana had made plans for her to attend Friday. Nana would be sending the limo to pick her up from work this afternoon, so the two of them could buy dresses for the event. Honey sighed, checked her makeup one last time, and announced to Trixie that she was ready to leave. Trixie had told her last night that she had to be "somewhere" for a morning appointment, and had offered to split a taxi ride with her. Without further ado they headed downtown.

Sitting in traffic on their way to P.S. # 15, Honey tried her best to get some information out of Trixie. "But why can’t you tell me where you’re going? And it’s not just curiosity, either - you should never go somewhere without telling at least one person."

Trixie raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Actually, several people know where I’m going. I have an appointment at nine."

"Where?!" Honey pleaded with her. "I’m dying to know what it is that you’re working on. Ever since we got here you’ve been making mysterious appointments, working forever on that computer - " she gestured to the recently-purchased laptop that accompanied Trixie everywhere - "and I’m absolutely going crazy. If you don’t tell me what it is, I’m going to open this door and jump out."

Trixie and Honey looked around at the crowded street, knowing full well that walking the rest of the way was not an option. Trixie laughed. "Well, you can scream your head off, but I’m not saying a thing to anyone until I wrap it up. So you’re just going to have to exercise some of that legendary patience and deal with it." Trixie had not taken on any clients since coming to New York. The project she was working on involved a mysterious and seemingly infinite line of credit, and Brian was the only other person who knew what that project was, because she had used his computer for it in Sleepyside.

"Fine," Honey said. "Don’t tell me. Don’t tell your best friend in the whole world. She doesn’t care anyway."

"Well, I’m sorry to hear that, since you’ll be finding out about it in a few months. Until then…"

"I know, I know." Honey only had time to stick out her tongue before exiting the vehicle and hurrying into the school.

 *    *    *

"Hello, Nana." Honey climbed into the limo, which stood out like a sore thumb on the street in front of the school. She sat next to her grandmother and kissed her on the cheek. "How are you today?"

"Very well, Madeleine. Thank you. I trust you had a nice day?"

"Very nice, thank you." Honey’s respectful smile turned genuine for a moment. "A little girl in my class told me today that when she grows up she’s going to raise unicorns. How’s that for ambition?"

Nana smiled. "Yes. Now, Madeleine," she told her as they parked in front of her favorited boutique, "Ms. Tynsdale is ready to show us a selection of styles and colors, and I have an idea of what I think you should choose."

Honey opened the shop door and held it for her grandmother.

With no attempt at preliminary pleasantries, Nana flagged down an anxious-looking woman. "Show her that green one," Nana commanded Ms. Tynsdale. She took a seat and watched the saleswoman with a critical eye.

Turning back to Honey, she said, "The color is horrid, but I think the cut would exactly suit you. Very few women have the right sort of elegant figure for it, but you are so tall and thin…No, not that one. Don’t you remember the one I liked? Didn’t you mark it down? You ought to have marked it down." Nana stood, clicking her tongue over the young woman’s obvious nervousness. Nana began combing through the dresses hanging on the saleswoman’s display. "Here it is. I’ve found it." She handed the dress to the woman and sat back down. "Isn’t it a good style, Madeleine?"

"Very nice," Honey responded automatically.

"We’ll want it in a rich brown color. This will go with the theme at the dinner, and should highlight your eyes very well. Hazel-eyed people are the only people who can really wear brown," Nana informed the blue-eyed woman, who was wearing a brown suit.

Honey smiled kindly at the saleswoman and thanked her for her help. "Will it be a problem to order it in brown, do you think?"

The woman started to reply, but Nana interrupted. "Of course not. We’re giving them plenty of time. The dinner isn’t for another three days. Now, get your coat, Madeleine. We have other places to be." Without another word she turned away.

"Thank you very much," Honey told the clerk. "You’ve been very helpful." The woman smiled gratefully at her.

"Where are we off to now, Nana?" Honey asked as they settled back into the limo.

"We’ll need shoes, of course. We’re going to try a few of the shops along Fifth Avenue."

Knowing how particular her grandmother was about shoes, Honey steeled herself and prepared to look pleasant for another two hours. Time to start dreaming about being elsewhere…

 

"Brian!"

He stopped and turned, knowing what he was going to find. Dr. Young, huffing and puffing in his struggle to catch up. He held up a hand to signal the obvious, that he wanted Brian to stop.

"Good morning, Dr. Young," Brian greeted him.

"Please," he responded just a little breathlessly, "I’ve told you. Call me Walt." He waited cheerfully, apparently waiting for Brian to do just that.

"Is there something I can help you with, Walt?" What the heck, why not humor the man?

Dr. Young shook his head. "No, no, no, I’m not here to give you more work," he guffawed. "And I don’t want to keep you. I just want to make sure you’ll be at the dinner on Friday."

Brian frowned slightly. "Well, sir, I hadn’t planned on going. I didn’t know it was required."

The older man clapped a hand on his shoulder. "It’s not a requirement, Brian. It’s one of the perks." Obviously assuming that Brian would now automatically feel the same way, he went on. "Now, tell me, son: do you have a date?"

Brian considered trying again to refuse the invitation, but he knew it was no use. He almost told his colleague that no, he didn’t have a date, but caught himself just in time. "I should be able to scare one up, sir," he said with a conspiratorial smile. He hoped it didn’t come off as looking jerky.

Dr. Young seemed a little disappointed. "Well, the dinner is just two days away. If you think you may have a problem, let me know. My niece will be attending, as well."

Brian assured him that he would get back to him, and was finally able to get back to his rounds. The rest of the morning was spent in wondering frantically if either Trixie or Honey were free Friday night.

 

Trixie quickly made it clear that she and Dan had important plans. Brian wondered bitterly as he hung up the phone if those plans were the same ones they had every weekend, to sit around arguing about which movie to watch. Taking a deep breath, he dialed Honey’s cell phone.

"Honey, this is Brian," he told the voice mailbox. "Could you give me a call at work, when you get the chance? Thanks." He hung up with the unshakable feeling that he had sounded like an idiot.

 

Honey retrieved her messages on the cab ride home, as was her habit. The first three were expected: one from Nana, reminding her to pick up her dress tomorrow, and two from her mother, asking how things were going. It was funny, Honey thought, how attached her mother had become to her since she’d moved out. She wondered if she felt guilty about being gone so much when Honey was little. Honey earnestly hoped not.

But it was the fourth message which caught her attention. Brian, sounding undeniably nervous about something. She checked her watch and saw that it was just after 4:00. Since Brian was going to be at the hospital until eight, she figured it wouldn’t make too much difference if she waited until she was home to call. After all, there was no need for the cabbie to know about her sick yearning for Brian.

"Trix! Are you home?" she called into the apparently empty apartment. When she got no reply, she lightheartedly tossed her bag on the couch and reached for the phone.

She busied herself with preparing a snack while she waited for Brian to respond to her page. To her knowledge, he had never called her about anything. ‘Well,’ she amended to herself, ‘not in a while. Not since we were kids.’ She was pondering the possibilities when the phone rang.

"Hi, Honey," Brian answered her cheerful greeting. "How’s it going?"

"Great. I just got home. How are you?"

"Oh, I’m fine, thanks," he said with the air of a man who has something troubling him. "Actually, I need a favor. A big favor."

"Well, sure, what is it? Whatever you want, it’s yours." He doesn’t know how true that could be, she added to herself.

"Um, well, I need you, if you’re available," he told her hopefully.

Knowing he didn’t mean that the way it sounded, but deciding a girl could still dream, Honey grinned. "When?"

"Friday night. I’ve got a hospital function to go to, and I’m supposed to bring a date." He sounded so relieved that the question was out of the way, Honey almost cried. She silently cursed her grandmother and the Fates.

"This Friday night?" she managed to get out. "Oh, Brian, I’m sorry! I have to attend a dinner with Nana. It’s something for one of her charitable causes. I’m so sorry."

"Don’t worry about it. It was way too last-minute, anyway." The disappointment in his voice warred with his desire to make Honey feel better. "It’s no big deal."

"Do you have to have a date?" she asked him, determined to dump Nana like an unwanted poodle if the answer was affirmative. There was no way she was going to send him into the waiting arms of a runner-up.

"No, it’s just some fundraising event. It’s not like there’ll be ballroom dancing, or anything. In fact, I’m hoping to be in and out of there in under an hour, so this should make it easier." He actually sounded grateful.

Honey decided to hedge all her bets, just in case. "Well, listen," she said in all seriousness, "if you want, I would be more than willing to tell Nana that something came up. I think I’m coming up on my limit of boring charity dinners."

Brian laughed. "This thing’s not going to be any more fun, believe me. You might as well go with your grandma, ‘cause you’re bound to know more people there. Like I said, it’s no big deal. Thanks, anyway."

"Sure," she said flatly. "Sorry I couldn’t help."

They said their goodbyes, then Honey betook herself to her room, where she could scream into her pillow for as long as she felt the need.

 

 

Honey had to admit, as she surveyed herself in front of the mirror Friday, that Nana did have good taste. The dress looked very good on her, if she did say so herself. She only wished she were wearing it to Brian’s fundraising event rather than Nana’s.

Nana eyed her approvingly as she slid into the limo. "Let me see the top," she commanded. Honey obediently removed her coat. "Why aren’t you wearing a necklace? Well, maybe that was the best choice. The neckline stands well alone." Nana nodded. "Yes, you look very nice."

"So do you." Honey leaned back against the seat. "That color is very becoming on you, Nana."

"Well, I’ve always looked best in blue. Tell me, how are you? Did you have a nice day?"

"Yes, very. And you?"

"Busy, but productive. I sat through three meetings this morning, each one worse than the last. Sometimes I look forward to retirement, and then I remember your poor father. He does very well right now, but with no help? No, I can never retire until your father has someone to help him."

Honey did not take the bait that Nana dangled in front of her. Her father understood that she had no intention of joining the family business, and he was fine with it. As far as Honey was concerned, that was all that mattered.

"I understand that your adoptive brother was here to visit you yesterday?"

Honey gritted her teeth every time she heard Nana use that phrase to describe Jim. Jim was her brother, pure and simple, regardless of what Nana thought.

"Yes, he was here with Dad, and he stopped by to see me. He’s always so kind that way," Honey couldn’t resist adding.

"He’s a wonderful young man," Nana agreed. "How is his school coming along?"

Honey was surprised at how interested Nana sounded in Jim’s business. ‘Anyone’s but her own…’ Honey reasoned. "Um, okay, I guess. We didn’t really talk about it. I suppose he’s got everything under control - he was able to leave for the day."

"He has that assistant. What is her name? Marie?"

"Mary," Honey corrected her. "Yes, she’s quite an --- an able assistant, isn’t she?"

"You do know, don’t you Madeleine, that she was the victim of quite a cruel trick recently? Yes, apparently that Belden boy jilted her for another woman. So like a man."

Honey merely nodded, incensed. The chauffeur couldn’t have pulled up to the hotel at a better time.

Brian was running late. His shift at the hospital had run after by a few minutes, and he got stuck in traffic on his way to Dan’s apartment to pick up the tuxedo Dan was lending him. When he got there, he found Trixie cooking something in the kitchen.

"Hey, Brian. Dan ran to the video store, but here’s the tux. He said no rush on returning it."

"Okay," Brian answered as he took the hanger from her. "Hey, he never did answer me: why does he own a tuxedo anyway?"

"Search me," she said, eyes wide. "Policeman balls?"

"I guess. Okay, I’m going to change here, if that’s okay. I don’t have time to go home first." Brian started toward the bathroom. "By the way, Trix," he added, "don’t take this the wrong way, but…"

"But you think maybe cooking dinner in his apartment is a little too cozy?"

Brian nodded.

"I agree, but I had some hamburger I had to cook, or it would have gone bad."

Brian smiled and hurried to change.

When he pulled up to the hotel where the dinner was being held, he took a deep breath, then exited his truck. "Let’s get this over with," he told himself. He found a valet and handed over his keys, then ran up the stairs two at a time.

 

"Marco!" Nana smiled indulgently at the dark-haired, thirty-something-year-old who was approaching her and Honey. "How nice to see you!"

"As always, the pleasure is mine." He took her hand and kissed it. "You’re looking wonderful tonight, Mrs. Wheeler."

"I don’t believe you’ve met my granddaughter, Madeleine Wheeler. Madeleine, this is Marco Paolo, the administrator of St. Vincent’s. Madeleine is my son Matthew’s daughter."

Marco eyed Honey, obviously impressed. "I am enchanted to make your acquaintance, Ms. Wheeler." His lips felt very wet against her hand.

She gave him a weak smile and a nod.

"Marco is one of my dearest friends, Madeleine. Whenever I find myself in a hostile hospital board meeting I can always count on Marco to take my side."

Marco looked abashed. "I am honored that you consider me a friend, Mrs. Wheeler, but as to taking your side, what can I say? Great minds think alike."

Nana laughed. "That they do, that they do. You know, Marco, Madeleine is a schoolteacher here in New York."

"Ah, the noblest profession. Tell me, does it agree with you?"

"It does," Honey answered, smiling. "Very much so."

"Wonderful. I love to see people happy in their profession. You must be a very dedicated teacher to be so enthusiastic about it."

"That’s kind of you to say. Nana tells me it’s my inexperience that makes me enthusiastic."

All three laughed, Honey the loudest of all. Her laughter had a touch of hysterical desperation to it. ‘I’ve got to get out of here,’ she thought. "If you will excuse me, I think I will go powder my nose. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Paolo."

"Please," he gushed, "call me Marco."

Honey made like she was going in the direction of the bathroom, but swerved toward the buffet table. In case Nana came looking for her, she didn’t want to be easily found. Popping an olive into her mouth, she reached for a plate from a nearby pile.

"Please watch yourself, ma’am. Those plates seem a little warm."

Honey looked up and smiled at the server, who was positioned behind the buffet table replenishing the food supply. "Alright, thank you. By the way, this display is lovely. You’ve done a wonderful job here."

The woman thanked her, obviously pleased, then excused herself and walked away.

"You know, if they catch you talking to the servers, you have to stay after and help clean up."

"Brian!" Honey had never been more pleasantly surprised in her life. She permitted herself the indulgence of a quick hug, thrilling to the feel of his well-formed back in a tuxedo. "How in the world did you end up here?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. I guess we were talking about the same fundraiser."

"How long have you been here?"

"I just got here. What about you?"

"It feels like an eternity." Honey rolled her eyes. "Don’t tell my grandmother," she said in a conspiratorial whisper, "but I can’t stand these kinds of functions. They’re so stuffy!"

"I know," Brian agreed, pulling at his collar. "I think they’d get more money out of people if they let them dress in comfortable clothes."

"You look very nice, by the way. If it weren’t so uncomfortable, I’d suggest you wear that tuxedo more often."

"Thanks. But I think Dan might have a thing or two to say about that. This is his monkey suit."

Honey nodded, then looked confused. "Why does Dan own a tuxedo?"

"That’s exactly what I said," Brian told her with a laugh. "Trixie suggested maybe he wears it to Policeman Balls."

"Ah," Honey said, unconsciously smoothing the form-fitting waist of her dress. Brian’s eyes did what they were supposed to.

"You look very nice, too. Is that a new dress?"

"Oh, fairly new," she said dismissively. "I just wish it weren’t so hot." Honey was flushing under the scrutiny of Brian’s gaze.

"Well, it looks very…nice," he repeated. "So," he said after a short pause, "where is your grandmother?"

"Um, the last time I saw her she was over by the ice sculpture." Honey craned her neck. "Yes, I think she’s still over there. She’s talking to the head of the hospital, actually, some man named Marco Paolo." She wiped the back of her hand as an automatic reaction.

Brian looked over and spotted them. "Boy, he sure is young to be the head of the hospital. He can’t be any older than thirty-five."

"I’ve come to discover that most of the jobs at that level are family appointments. He’s probably not even a doctor," she tacked on disapprovingly, with another glance in his direction. "Oh, Nana sees us." Honey cursed herself for giving away her location. "She’ll be so happy to see you again," she told Brian as Nana made her way over to them.

"Dr. Belden!"

"Hello, Mrs. Wheeler. How do you do?"

"Well, thank you. I haven’t had a chance to talk with you about your work at St. Vincent’s. Tell me, how do you like it?" Brian started to respond, but she beat him to it. "I was actually just speaking to someone in the hospital administration, just before I joined you. I mentioned your name to him and he knew it right away. I believe he said you were the lead pediatrician?"

"Oh, no," Brian said. "I am one of many pediatricians there. I’m just a cog in the machine." He gave her a lopsided smile.

Her disappointment was palpable. "I’m sure you are much more than that. Madeleine, I believe Mr. Paolo was hoping to ask you if you cared to dance. He was wondering where you’d gotten off to."

"Oh, no!" Honey feigned concern. "I just asked Dr. Belden if he would do me the honor." She looked at Brian, who nodded. "Perhaps another time?"

"Excuse us," Brian said. "It was nice to see you again, Mrs. Wheeler."

"I’m sorry, Brian, but I had to." Honey said as soon as they were out of earshot. She took his hand and led him onto the dance floor. "I can’t stand dancing with people I just met." Realizing how snobby that sounded, she added more. "I’m not the world’s greatest dancer, and I always end up embarrassing myself."

Brian placed his hand on her waist and waited for the music to begin. "Don’t apologize. I was just about to ask you if you wanted to dance. And I’ve never seen you embarrass yourself dancing."

‘This is nice,’ Honey thought blissfully as they began moving. ‘I’m so glad ballroom dancing was required in high school. Thank you, Mrs. Coxe!’ She’d always liked their old gym teacher.

Brian and Honey had had other chances to utilize their teacher’s sweaty-palmed instruction, most especially at various high school dances. They had actually been each other’s standard date for such functions, way back in the day. Honey used to take it for granted that it would always be that way. Now, she knew better - her dragging him was the only way she could get him on the dance floor with her, as she had proven to herself tonight. Still, it was nice while it lasted, she reasoned. She let her hand slip down from his shoulder to the crook of his arm and forearm, reveling in the solidness beneath her hand.

"Ready to dip?" Brian asked suddenly. "The dipping was always my favorite part."

She laughed in surprise as he illustrated his skill in this area.

After several dances Honey’s conscience reminded her that she should rejoin her grandmother. Brian went to get them drinks while Honey moved to stand beside Nana. She found her talking to Marco Paolo and a portly, middle-aged man.

"Ah, here you are, Madeleine. This is Dr. Young, head of pediatrics at the hospital. And you already know Mr. Paolo."

Honey shook the older man’s hand. "It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Young."

"Likewise, I’m sure," he responded. "I’m pleased to meet the granddaughter of our hospital’s most generous benefactress. Madeleine, you said?"

Brian approached the group and Honey greeted him with a smile. "Here you go, Honey," he said, handing her a drink.

Dr. Young and Marco raised eyebrows at the familiarity of Brian’s address. ("305 Fifth St.?! That’s where I live!")

"Dr. Belden, you didn’t tell me you knew Mrs. Wheeler and her granddaughter." Dr. Young had a hint of reproof in his voice.

"Didn’t he?" Nana asked. "Yes, Brian and Madeleine grew up together. They are old friends."

"Old and dear friends," Honey corrected, patting Brian on the arm. She had seen Marco’s raised eyebrows and desperately wanted to play on that feeling. "Thanks for the drink, um-" ‘Do it! Do it!’ a little voice screamed in her head. "Sweetie."

Now it was Brian’s turn to raise his eyebrows, but he wisely said nothing. Previous intentions aside, Brian did not sneak away from the party an hour after

his arrival. He and the Wheelers stayed until nearly eleven o’clock, by turns dancing, eating, and mingling. There were also several dull speeches to suffer through. Still, it was with a light heart that Brian climbed into his truck, which truck Nana had been shocked to see a doctor drive, and drove away. His and Honey’s relationship might never progress beyond friendship, but by gosh, there’d be dancing. And, apparently, terms of endearment.

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

"Let me see." Trixie stood, hands on her hips, lips set in a straight and determined line. "Just let me see it," she told Honey.

"It’s so ugly, Trix!" Honey moaned and hunkered down over the object she was shielding from Trixie’s view. "Just let me throw it away. We still have time to order one. Dan can pick it up for us."

"No, he can’t. Let me see the darn thing, and I’ll see if I can fix it."

Honey figured that resistance was, well, futile, and moved away from the kitchen counter.

"Oh, that isn’t bad at all, you baby." Trixie looked sincere. "I have served much uglier cakes than that. More importantly, Brian has eaten much uglier cakes than that."

"But I wanted it to be perfect!" Honey wailed. "Look at the way the letters in

‘Brian’ run together - it looks like it says ‘Happy 26th Birthday, Bron’!"

Trixie answered laughingly, "At least it doesn’t say Brom! Anyway, it doesn’t look like that. It’s beautiful." Honey still seemed to be on the verge of dumping the whole thing in the trash, so she added, "And it’s his favorite. You know he loves your carrot cake."

Honey did know. It made her nervous every time he took a bite of one of them, she was so afraid he’d be disappointed. She knew she was being silly about how it looked, but she couldn’t help it. "Well, if anyone asks, you decorated it." She stood up and flounced away from her laughing friend.

 

"Hey, Trixie," Honey shouted about two hours later, "your mom’s on the phone!"

"Thanks!" Trixie picked up the extension in her bedroom. "Hi, Moms."

"Hi, honey. Bobby and I are just getting ready to leave. Is there anything you need us to pick up?"

Trixie thought quickly. "Um, no, I think we’re covered. Unless…’’

Her mother took the bait. "What? Wrapping paper? Ice cream?"

"No, I was just wondering: do you think we should have party hats or anything? I mean, we’ve got balloons and streamers. Is that enough?"

Mrs. Belden considered it. "I think hats might be a bit much. It sounds like you’ve done it just right. Brian would probably feel a little…silly…wearing a hat."

Trixie was amused by the picture produced by that thought. "But that would be the point," she told her mother.

"I see. Well, I don’t think Brian would appreciate that, so I’m just going to ignore that suggestion." She sounded amused, too. "We’ll see you in about an hour, then. Bye, hon."

Trixie was still smiling when she hung up. "Moms and Bobby will be here in about an hour, Honey," she said as she entered the kitchen. "Do you need to get a shower?" She glanced down at the counter, which was covered with several trays of food. Some were on ice and others were dishes BEST SERVED WARM. Honey was working on a cheese spread at the moment.

"Huh?" Honey looked up from her task. "No, I already got one. But as soon as this last tray is ready, I’ve got to go do something to my hair. Are you ready?"

"Yeah. I’ll probably change before everyone gets here, but for now I’m good." She dragged a chair over to a corner and proceeded to hang the streamers. "That food looks really good, Honey."

Honey seemed pleased. "Thanks. I tried to stick mostly with Brian’s favorites. Did I forget anything?"

"Just the Waldorf salad."

The girls went about their business in comfortable silence for a few moments, then Trixie stopped and gathered her courage. "Honey," she began, "can I axe you something?"

Honey looked surprised. "Of course."

"Do you think Dan loves me?"

Honey’s thoughts stumbled over each other in their embarrassment. Conversations like this always made her uncomfortable. "Has he said he does?" she inquired haltingly.

"Not…exactly." Trixie stepped off the chair and sat down heavily. "But we’ve been seeing each other for four months now, and I guess I just don’t know why."

"Are you saying that you don’t want to be dating him?" Honey wanted to know.

Trixie blushed immediately and deeply. "No," she admitted. "I…love dating him, if you know what I mean." Honey smiled and Trixie continued. "I just don’t know how he feels about it. Why is he still dating me?"

Honey frowned and sat down near her. "I don’t understand."

"What does he see in me?" she blurted. "Why in the world would he date someone like me?"

"Because you’re a great person! Because you’re beautiful, and you’re smart. And you have a great body, I’ve got to tell you."

Trixie laughed at Honey’s tone. "Fat turns you on, does it?"

"As if! Trix, you are not fat. You’re built. I could never fill out a shirt the way you do. And before you go and tell me that’s because you’re overweight, explain to me how it is that you’re lower half is so toned?" She ended with a triumphant nod.

Trixie changed the subject. "Even if that were true, why would Dan like me? Because, I’m telling you, if it’s all physical then I quit."

Honey leaned forward and grasped Trixie’s hands. "Trix. Don’t you remember when we first met Dan? You acted like he was, I don’t know, covered in cooties, or something." They both giggled, but Trixie was beginning to tear up. "But," Honey went on, "you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You took every chance you could to let him know you had no interest in him, even if you had to follow him around to do it."

Trixie hung her head in embarrassed amusement, then nodded.

Honey squeezed her hands. "The only reason he never made a move before was because he believed you." She waited for Trixie to meet her eyes. "He thought you were Jim’s girlfriend, and that you looked down on him because of where he came from."

Trixie was weeping freely now. "I didn’t mean - Oh, Honey, I didn’t mean to treat him like that! I just-’’

"I know," Honey assured her, sliding from her seat to give Trixie a hug. "You didn’t know how to handle the way you felt. And I don’t mean to say that you scarred his psyche, or anything. After all, that was only right when we met him. You’ve been friends for a long time."

Trixie nodded.

"You wanted to know why he’s dating you now; I’m telling you why he didn’t date you before."

Trixie leaned back and gave her an incredulous look. "You’re suggesting he liked me when we were teenagers?"

Honey was silent for a few seconds, considering her friend. "Yes."

Trixie clearly didn’t believe what she was hearing. "Why?"

"Because I watched him. Di and I both did. As a matter of fact, Di was interested in him at first, but she saw pretty quickly that it was hopeless. So we watched. We could tell that he was sizing up your relationship with Jim, and then he did his best to hide it."

Trixie’s gaze focused on the far wall. She squinted a bit, trying to see into the past from a different perspective. "But why didn’t he ever say anything? Even after Jim and I stopped…trying?"

"When would you say that was?" Honey asked, watching Trixie closely.

Trixie took a deep breath. "I guess…probably…when he started college." She turned back to Honey and said softly, "Which was right after Dan left."

They stared at each other, wordless. Honey’s eyes were sympathetic, but Trixie’s were troubled.

"Could that be right?" Trixie whispered. "How can that be?"

Honey gave her another hug, but no answer. "Come on. We’ve got about a half hour left before everyone gets here."

They returned to their previous occupations with a much more sober air. Trixie was plagued by occasional sniffles, and Honey gave her time to think things over. She finished the last food tray and left Trixie to complete the decorations while she went into the bathroom to put her hair up. She came back just as the doorbell rang.

"Oh, Honey!" Trixie panicked. "Can you get that? I’ve got to go fix my makeup - I look terrible!" She was practically slamming her bedroom door before the last word was out of her mouth.

Honey opened the door with a pretty good idea of who was on the other side, considering Trixie’s reaction. She must have been expecting him about this time.

"Hi, Dan," she greeted him warmly. She stepped aside and gestured him in.

He looked around with an approving glance. "Nice," he told her. "Where’s the gift table?" He held up the package in his hand.

She took his coat and indicated the coffee table in the center of the living room. "Trixie and I put our gifts over there," she said. After she’d hung the coat in the closet she joined him at the couch. "What’d you get him?" she asked curiously.

"A chia pet. What about you?"

"Season tickets for the Knicks." When he made an impressed face, she added, "Right behind the bench."

"How many?" he asked with a smile. "Any chance he’ll take me?"

"Now, come on," she scolded him teasingly, picking up a balloon, "when your birthday rolls around again, it’ll be your turn for free tickets." Besides, she was counting on that other seat being hers. She blew into the balloon, smiling.

Dan picked up another balloon and followed suit. "Great," he said. "My birthday’s in July, remember? No basketball."

Honey shook her head at him and continued inflating and hanging the last of the balloons. When they were done, they stood back and surveyed their work. Dan pronounced it "da*# nice."

Trixie appeared and, Honey noticed, Dan’s face brightened immediately. She excused herself to check on the casserole in the oven.

"Hi," Trixie said with a shyness she hadn’t felt before. Dan was standing in front of the fireplace, looking, she had to admit, very happy to see her. She moved toward him, all kinds of new thoughts swirling in her mind. When he met her halfway she smiled weakly.

"Hi." He leaned down and kissed her quite thoroughly, after which she felt even weaker. "How was your day?" he asked her.

"I’m still not telling you what my meeting was about," she informed him haughtily. She led him by the hand into the kitchen.

Honey was adding some kind of topping to the dish in the oven. "Everything should be ready in about ten minutes," she informed them.

Dan was examining the food on the counter. He munched on a carrot as he read the cake. "Hey, is Brom coming?" he asked. "I thought we were celebrating Brian’s birthday."

 

Brian, sitting in traffic on his 26^th birthday and wondering yet again why he had chosen the exact wrong route, found himself questioning his decisions. Finished with undergraduate school at age 19, by virtue of skipping the second grade and taking college courses in high school, he had headed right for medical school. He had spent three years there, then immediately started his three-year internship at St. Gerard’s.

He’d been fortunate that he’d been allowed to intern at the Sleepyside hospital; he’d originally been slated to work at one in Boston. One of his professors had pulled a few strings for him, though, after Brian had requested a delay on his start date. Dr. Smith had been disappointed at first, thinking that Brian was just looking for time off, and had flatly refused.

Brian actually owed Trixie for getting him the transfer. In the midst of her own grief, she had contacted Dr. Smith and filled him in on Mr. Belden’s death and Brian’s desire to stay close to home. He was glad she had. He was happy to have been there for Mrs. Belden and Bobby.

However, after about a year of working at St. Gerard’s and living at Crabapple Farm, he’d started to fear that he might be missing out on some vital piece of education, and not only because he was working at a smaller hospital. Even though he had attended college and medical school at Duke University, hundreds of miles away from home, that time had been spent in moving as quickly as possible through his studies. He hadn’t really taken the time to live away from home.

He’d watched Mart, who’d gone to school only about 50 miles away, set up a whole life separate and apart from the rest of the family. Brian had sometimes wondered if that wasn’t just a symptom of the same problem he himself suffered from, but he didn’t even have any idea what that problem could be termed. A psychologist would probably say it had something to do with guilt or regret, but that was beside the point. Regardless of the reasons, he and Mart had chosen different paths, and Brian, in an effort to catch up to his little brother, had decided that he needed to be on his own.

And that, he thought with a sigh, had brought him to St. Vincent’s. He’d only been there since September, and it was now October, and he was miserable. The hospital seemed to be run by businessmen, of whom Marco Paolo was the ringleader. Not surprisingly, they didn’t care much about the patients. Worse than that, though, was the fact that the other doctors were so anxious to keep their jobs that they, more often than not, forgot about the patients, too.

Brian sighed again. Oh, well. At least he was off for a couple of days. He pulled into a free space across the street from Honey and Trixie’s apartment and smiled. He spotted Dan’s motorcycle and Mrs. Belden’s car. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Trixie had not heeded his request for "nothing special."

He managed to appear reasonably surprised when everyone jumped up. "Wow," he said, looking around. "What’s going on here? Is it somebody’s birthday?"

"Yeah, it’s Bron’s," Dan told him before ducking. Honey, a second too late, launched her oven mitt at him and missed.

Brian knitted his brows questioningly. "Did I miss something?"

"No," Trixie told him firmly, casting a stern look toward Dan. "You’re right on time."

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