By Kris
"Can you believe it? I would get Vanity!" Diana giggled as she left her sophomore English class with her two best friends. "What did you guys get?"
"Sloth," Trixie chuckled. "I swear, Di, she didn't choose these randomly. She's trying to tell us something."
"Did I hear 'Sloth'? Why, Beatrix, that's your middle name!" Mart joined the group, dodging his sister's attempt to whap him with her notebook. "What gives?"
"Ms. Garcia gave us a writing project over winter break. She assigned each of us one of the traditional Seven Deadly Sins or Seven Virtues," Trixie answered.
Diana added, "We have to choose a character from English or American literature who illustrates that virtue or vice, and write a paper comparing the character's experiences with our own."
Mart hooted. "You're right, Trix. She was saving Sloth just for you! I gotta run and meet with my chem teacher for a minute. See you at the car!" He dashed off.
Trixie just grinned good-naturedly, then turned to Honey. "So, what character flaw did Ms. Garcia choose for you?"
Honey reddened and looked at her feet. "She told me she ran out of choices by the time she got to the Ws, so she gave me one that doesn't come from the traditional list."
"What is it?" Trixie asked, her curiosity evident.
"Courage," Honey muttered.
"Well, that's perfect!" Trixie exclaimed. "You know all about that!"
"Sure," Honey snapped. "All of it second hand. I'll just have to write about you." Honey turned on her heel and took off for the Bob-White station wagon.
Trixie's mouth fell open. "What was that about? She's one of the bravest people I know."
"Maybe it's because she doesn't feel brave," Di answered thoughtfully.
The Christmas festivities were uneventful but awkward for many of the Bob-Whites. At the annual party in the Clubhouse the day before Christmas Eve, Trixie was uncharacteristically subdued, staying as far away from Jim as she could. He hadn't tried to explain to her why he was suddenly in a serious relationship with an older girl in Ithaca, and Trixie wasn't eager to discuss it, anyway. Brian avoided Jim, too, hovering protectively at Trixie's side the whole evening.
By Christmas Day, Honey was unusually depressed. This was a season she had come to adore since her family moved to Sleepyside and spent the holidays at home instead of in Palm Beach or Aspen.
This year, though, she was preoccupied with her worries about Jim and what could have prompted him to date Shelby. She also worried about how Trixie was taking it, although from all appearances her best friend had handled it pretty well. She was worried about her own relationship with Brian, which was going nowhere. Most of all, she was worried about her future.
It had started on Christmas Eve during pre-dinner cocktails at Manor House. The drawing room was full of distant relatives, her father's business associates and her mother's society friends.
"So, Honey, darling, your father tells us that the little neighbor girl has convinced you to become a detective! Don't you think something a little safer would be more appropriate?"
"Wouldn't you'd rather work at one of your father's ventures? He needs an heir to succeed him, and I understand young Frayne here has other plans. I'm willing to bet you have the Wheeler gift for business!"
"Come now, dear, she doesn't want to worry her pretty head about business! You are going to go to Babson College like your mother, aren't you, Honey? I know you enjoyed public school, but you'll make lifelong friends there, in the right circles, you know."
"It's alright, Honey, I know all the young girls these days want to work until they start a family. I have the perfect job for you. Fundraising! Why, your mother is a natural, and all of the best charities employ professionals to coordinate fundraising. Or you could work in the alumni relations office at the college. Say you'll think about it."
Other than whispering "Plastics!" in her ear, Jim stayed out of the conversation, watching with amusement as her legendary tact failed her along with her voice. Her mother graciously agreed with every opinion, no matter how contradictory. Her father did come to her defense, sort of. "Now, we've told Honey that we'll support her in whatever career she chooses. She's a smart girl, so the world is her oyster. We're worried that being a detective could be dangerous, of course, but she has plenty of time to decide."
Dinner conversation focused on various Wheeler enterprises, the social "season" and the on-going redecoration of Manor House. It started up again over coffee.
"Now, Madeleine, surely you aren't going to let your only daughter become a detective! I thought this was just a passing fancy, but she hasn't given it up yet, has she? Maybe you should send her to Paris before she goes to college. Wider horizons, you know."
"Maybe if she just invested in a detective agency. Being a small-business owner would be such good experience! Let that wild, I mean, enthusiastic, girl next door could run the business for her."
Honey escaped to her room as the adults began to indulge in cognac. Nobody understands. They think I can't do it. Or worse, they think I don't really want to. They think I don't have the guts to make my own decisions so I just copy Trixie.
She heard Jim coming up the stairs. She knew that if he saw a light under her door, he'd want to come in to check on her. Quickly she turned off her light. She was in no mood to face Mr. I've Got My Career All Planned Out.
Christmas morning at Manor House was a subdued affair, compared to the revelry of the night before. The family opened the extravagant gifts under the tree, enjoyed breakfast in front of the fire, and went for a ride together. No one mentioned the inquisition Honey had suffered the night before.
Late that afternoon, after Matt and Madeleine Wheeler left on a trip to Aruba, Honey was delighted to receive a call from Diana. "So, how was your Christmas?" Di asked.
"Ugh, it was the worst I've had since we moved here." Honey roamed restlessly around her room. "How was yours?"
"We had a great Christmas! The twins are all still young enough that opening presents is a thrill. You should come over and play with all the new toys--that would cheer you up!" Diana teased.
"Oh, Di, could I? Come over, I mean. I can't explain it, I just don't feel like being at home right now, even though I should spend time with Jim, which I want to do, but I just can't right now, and...."
"I get it, I get it!" Diana laughed. "Why don't you come spend the night? I could use a break from the little kids, and you can get away from... just get away."
I wish I could. "You're on. I suppose I should have dinner with Jim, first, though."
"Oh, come on, he's a big boy. He and the guys are probably already planning to break out that new video game system you got him."
"You're right. See you at six?"
After an unusually loud and casual dinner with the whole Lynch family, Diana and Honey retreated to Di's enormous suite. "So what do you feel like doing? We can totally veg if you want. We don't have school for more than a week!" Di said.
"Oh, school! The English paper! That's the last thing I wanted to think about tonight!" Honey wailed, dropping onto Diana's king-sized canopy bed.
"Honey, maybe you need to talk about whatever's bugging you. I'm a good listener," Diana prodded.
"Yes, you are. I suppose I need to. I'm not getting anywhere on my own." Honey launched into a reenactment of the Christmas Eve party discussion of her career plans, Diana alternately laughing and murmuring in sympathy.
"So, how does this relate to the paper we have to write?"
Honey flushed. "You mean, why did I snap at Trixie after class?"
"Well, that too."
"I'm upset about what people think about me wanting to be a detective."
"What do you think people think?"
Honey took a deep breath, and let her worries pour out. "They think that I don't really want to do it, that I'm just copying Trixie. They think that I can't do it, not that I'm smart enough, but more that I'm not brave enough or resourceful enough. They think Trixie doesn't realize I don't want to be a detective, or that she's making me feel guilty. They think that I know deep down that I can't do it, so they patronize me."
"Wow, that's a lot! Where am I supposed to start?" Diana smiled at Honey. "Tell you what. Forget what other people may think. What do YOU think?"
"What do I think? What do you mean?" Honey stammered.
"Do you really want to this? Are you not sure, but you want to keep your options open? Do you really believe you can't do it? Seriously, who cares about everybody else? This is about you."
"Well, I... I guess I see two plusses and two minuses. On the plus side, I'd like to work with Trixie more than anything. We're a great team, and she seems to bring out the best in me, so I do better at whatever I'm doing when I'm with her."
"What else?"
"I also like working on cases, helping people, using my brain to put clues together and figure things out. It's so exciting compared to anything I've ever done! Trixie has great intuition and she's so determined and brave, but she always tells me that I'm the brains of the firm. I used to think she didn't really need me, but now I know that she does, and that my contribution counts."
"So what's on the minus side?" Diana asked gently.
"Well, I know you said don't worry about what other people think, but I do. They really destroy my confidence. And also, I'm afraid I... I'm just not..." Honey trailed off.
"You don't feel you're brave enough," Diana finished for her.
"Yes." A single tear rolled down Honey's cheek. "I'll never forget the first time anyone said I was brave. Mrs. Belden told me I was brave when I fell off my bike and skinned my knee and got back on anyway. It felt so great to think that I might be brave like Trixie, but I'm not. I can just imagine the condescending things people think, like 'Oh, how brave of the socialite's daughter to do what comes naturally for everyone else.'"
Diana patted Honey's back while Honey wiped her eyes. Honey took a deep breath and pushed on. "So when I got that assignment, all I could think about is how I don't have any courage. Trixie plunges right in, and I'm too afraid to be left behind so I just go with her!"
"Stop right there, Honey Wheeler. That's not true! If you weren't brave, you wouldn't hang out with Trixie in the first place! I prefer to think of you as having a survival instinct, unlike Trixie, who seems to have a death wish!"
Honey giggled. "I know. Maybe my true calling is keeping her alive."
"No, your true calling is to do what makes you happy and what you're good at. Honey, you ARE good at detective work. People trust you, and they respect what you have to say. Trixie struggles to get respect, and I know what that feels like. You seem to have instant credibility. If this is what you decide to do, then you can do it!"
"Oh, Trixie says the same thing. She also says that I can always change my mind, and she'll understand. She doesn't want me to feel like I made some sort of promise to her that I'll be afraid to break."
"There you go. So, does it come down to courage for you, or is there something else?"
Honey thought a minute, then answered, "Yes, I think that's it. You know, although people tease Trixie about her ambition, they don't really doubt her anymore. In fact, I'm the only Bob-White whose dream people don't have faith in!"
"That's not true. Nobody believes that Mart will wind up in agriculture, either!" Diana reminded her.
Truth be told, except for his brother and sister and Jim, even the Bob-Whites didn't really expect Mart to pursue his stated career goal. They must know something about farming that the rest of us don't, Honey reflected.
"I wish I could just give you a medal like the Cowardly Lion in the 'Wizard of Oz,'" Diana broke into her thoughts.
"Oh, I know, Di, I wish that was all it would take. Thanks for listening, though. I do feel better, and I can't avoid it since I have to write this paper anyway!"
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP!
Honey jumped. "What was that?"
Diana laughed. "That's the twins pounding on the door. They probably want us to read them bedtime stories. It just isn't the same when the nanny reads to them, and it is still Christmas, after all."
"Oh, I'd love to read to them!"
"Don't be so sure," Diana warned her. "They don't want sweet old-fashioned books like 'Peter Rabbit.' Larry and Terry like pretty gross stories, and Lissy and Rissa follow their lead."
"That's okay, it'll be fun," Honey answered as she opened the door.
Larry and Terry, age eight, and Alyssa and Marissa, age 6, poured through the door, books in hand. "Hey, you guys wanna read to us?" Larry shouted.
"Only if you each read us a book first," Diana answered.
"Okay!" the two sets of twins chorused.
They all piled onto Diana's huge bed. The twins had planned a Dr. Seuss extravaganza for that evening. Each child read their favorite silly story with varying amounts of assistance from Diana.
When they were all finished, Larry announced that Honey had to read them the book he had received for Christmas.
"Oh, not that one, it's pretty gross," Diana cautioned with a sly smile.
"Gross is good," the twins insisted.
"Don't worry, I can handle gross," Honey reassured them as she took the book Larry waved in his hand.
"'Hiccup the Seasick Viking,'" she began. Oh, my.
Diana settled back to enjoy the story. This couldn't have worked out better if I had planned it, she chuckled inwardly.
Honey read the story out loud, but the twins weren't satisfied with her papa Viking voice, so Diana played the part of Stoick the Vast, comically hollering his lines and singing his song in a booming voice. Diana really is a natural, Honey thought. I wonder if she might go into acting, after all? Of all the Bob-Whites, only Diana hadn't made a firm declaration of her career choice.
Soon, Honey was caught up in the story of the polite little Viking who was afraid to go to sea. The twins delighted in her meek Hiccup voice, proclaiming her "just right." When she reached the end, though, her voice caught in her throat, and Diana had to read the last line.
"So, did anyone pay enough attention to learn something from the story, or do you only remember that Hiccup barfed on his dad's feet?" Diana asked.
"I know! I know!" Marissa squealed as her brothers groaned.
"Brown nose," Terry hissed.
"Cut it out, Terr!" Diana scolded him. "What was the moral, Rissa?"
"It's that if you are afraid of something and you do it anyway, then you really are brave after all," Marissa answered smugly, pushing her brother off the bed.
"That's right," Diana nodded approvingly. "Like when you were so afraid to ride a horse, but you kept trying even after you fell off. You are very brave."
"I'm brave, too! So am I! Me too!" her other siblings clamored.
"But who's the bravest person you know?" Diana asked, wondering if this was going to work.
"Trixie and Honey!"
"Trixie!"
"No, it's Honey!"
"Me?" Honey asked, smiling at Larry.
"Yeah. Mart says Trixie's just too dumb to be scared."
Diana and Honey fell back on the bed, laughing hysterically. Finally, Diana ordered everyone to bed. Amid protests of "aw, no way, not yet, just one more story," she herded her younger brothers and sisters into their separate rooms.
When Di returned and closed her bedroom door, Honey cornered her. "So, how much did you pay them to set me up?" she demanded with a smile.
"You know I couldn't have. We hadn't talked about this before tonight," Diana protested.
Honey gave her friend a quick hug. "I know. You're right. But thanks, anyway. It looks like your family shares your gift for empathy!"
"Well, if they do, they sure don't show it very often," Diana joked. "So, are you going to cite that book in your essay? I dare you!"
"I just might," Honey answered. "At least it would be quite or-iiiii-ginal," she added, imitating the way their teacher spoke when she was trying not to hurt someone's feelings.
As they settled down for the night, both girls grew quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly, Honey started to giggle uncontrollably.
"What is it?" Diana asked.
"Did you notice that Stoick the Vast had red hair like my dad?" Honey gasped.
"You mean, Stoick the Not-So-Vast-After-All!" Diana laughed with her.
As she dropped off to sleep, Honey tried to remember the line she hadn't been able to read out loud. It went something like, "Sometimes Vikings do get seasick, but they get over it. That's what makes them so brave."
The End
Notes: Hiccup the Seasick Viking is a delightfully gross story by Cressida Cowell, published in 2000 by Orchard Books. The final quote actually is a paraphrase. "Plastics!" is from The Graduate, of course. Apologies to any Babson alums.