*All ages

The Scare

by Mary

Only after Trixie, Brian and Mart had sat down did Helen Belden make her announcement.

"Kids, there’s no easy way to say this…Mrs. Belden stopped. Her husband Peter put his arm around her waist.

Trixie felt her stomach turn to ice. Something was horribly wrong. She instinctively reached for her oldest brother’s hand.

Mrs. Belden inhaled audibly. "I had some tests done last week and the news is…not good." She looked at the three worried faces in front of her. "I have breast cancer," she finished quietly.

Trixie made a choking sound, gripping Brian’s hand even tighter. Brian squeezed back, helplessly.

"You can’t mean it," Mart finally said, his voice shaky.

Mrs. Belden tried to smile at her middle son. "I’m afraid I do," she said sadly.

The three rose as if one and surrounded their mother. "Oh Moms!" Trixie cried, throwing her arms around her and burying her face in her shoulder. For a long moment the entire Belden family clung to one another, as if they could shut out the danger that faced their close-knit family.

"How serious is it?" Brian finally asked, his face white. He was studying pre-med at Columbia and was home only for the weekend. Of the three of them, he was the most likely to understand the answer.

"You’re mother is lucky—she caught it early," his father replied, clearing his throat. "It hasn’t spread to the lymph nodes and she has an excellent chance of recovering."

Chance. The word made Trixie cling even harder to her mother. At 16, life had not prepared her for a moment as awful as this one. Her world filled with family barbecues, school and friends was a million miles away from this reality.

Mrs. Belden gently disengaged herself from her children. "Now listen, we can’t fall apart. This family has always stuck together, and we’re going to get through this." Her voice was firm, her eyes gentle.

Mr. Belden spoke up. "You’re mother is going to have twice-weekly chemotherapy treatments for the next month. We’re all going to have to pitch in and help around the house," his voice was calm but Trixie could see the fear lurking in his eyes. It made her feel weak all over.

"We will Dad," the boys promised. Trixie’s father looked at her. "Of course I will," Trixie managed to choke out. Mr. Belden enfolded his only daughter in his arms. "I know you’re scared honey. We all are. But we have to be strong for your mother. Okay, baby?" Trixie nodded against her father’s shoulder.

"Let’s all go to bed. I think we’ve all had enough for one day," Mrs. Belden suggested. Trixie smiled bravely at her mother and kissed her goodnight, the boys following suit. She trudged up the stairs to her room, glad that her youngest brother Bobby was spending the night at the Lynch house and didn’t have to hear the heart wrenching news. She entered her room and closed the door quietly behind her, feeling as if bees were crawling under her skin. The tears came again, hot and merciless and she threw herself facedown on her bed, stuffing a pillow into her mouth to stifle her sobs.

"Why, why, why?" she cried, rocking back and forth, but there was no answer in the long night ahead.

 

Chapter 2

Heavy-lidded and listless, the three Belden siblings made their way to the clubhouse in silence. An emergency meeting of their club, the Bob-Whites of the Glen, had been called so that they could share the horrible news with their closest friends.

Trixie felt sick as she walked the familiar path with her brothers. The many happy times she made this very same walk were completely lost to her now. Her heart felt as if it was covered with a hard coating and it was difficult to draw in a full breath.

"Are you all right Trixie? You don’t look so good," Brian said, looking at his younger sister worriedly, putting an arm around her shoulder.

"I didn’t sleep at all," Trixie said, grateful for the weight of his arm. She could always count on her oldest brother to be the anchor in any situation.

"I didn’t either," her brother Mart said simply. He had a love of big, complicated words, but the news the previous evening had drained him of that pleasure, of any pleasure.

"I guess none of us did," Brian sighed. The three walked on in silence, the fall beauty in sharp contrast to their fear and depression. As they approached the little gatehouse that served as their clubhouse, they could hear laughter and voices coming from inside. It made them feel even sadder that they were unable to share in the obvious high spirits.

"They probably think we have something really exciting to tell them," Trixie remarked sadly, her stomach pinching. As they entered the dwelling, several sets of eyes swiveled towards them expectantly. The laughter died abruptly at the sight of the Belden’s faces.

"What’s wrong?" Honey Wheeler, Trixie’s best friend, asked, frightened. Trixie opened her mouth and closed it, suddenly knowing that she would burst into tears if she said one word. The other members of the club, Diana Lynch, Dan Mangan and Honey’s adopted brother, Jim Frayne rose to their feet, echoing Honey’s concern.

"Let’s sit down," Brian started, rubbing his eyes tiredly. The group sat around the table in worried silence. Trixie winced at the contrast to their usual boisterous meetings. Will anything ever be normal again? She wondered hopelessly.

"It’s about Moms…" Brian briefly outlined the events of the previous evening to the horrified club.

"Oh no!" Diana cried, clutching Dan’s arm next to her. The clubhouse ringed with worried exclamations for the next few minutes. Mrs. Belden was a staunch supporter of the club and like a second mother to all of them.

"Guys, guys!" Brian called, waving his arms. The group calmed down and turned their attention back to their oldest member.

"Sorry, Brian. What can we do to help?" Dan asked simply.

"We Beldens need to stick pretty close to home for the next month. We’re not going to be able to ride for awhile…"

"Don’t worry about a thing. Jim and I will exercise the horses everyday, won’t we Jim? Honey exclaimed, forgetting in her worry that Jim, like Brian, was only home for the weekend.

For the first time, the group became aware that Jim had not said a word since the announcement.

"Jim?" Trixie said, looking at him for the first time. Her breath jammed up at the terrible expression in his eyes.

Brian, the future doctor, recognized shock when he saw it. "Jim…" he began.

Jim stood up so fast that his chair went flying. "Don’t….just…" he got out, then wheeled for the door, the clubhouse shaking as he slammed it behind him.

The friends sat in stunned silence. "What’s with him?" Dan, the most matter-of-fact member of their club finally asked. "I mean, this is the worst news I can imagine hearing, but what…" he broke off, too confused to continue.

"I don’t know," Honey said softly, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I’ll go after him." She left after giving each Belden a hug.

"I guess the meeting is adjourned," Trixie said, her voice trembling. She had been counting of Jim to help her bear it, and his running out was more shock than she could stand at the moment.

"We’ve got a lot to do today," Mart agreed, standing.

"Do you want us to come home with you?" Dan asked

"Thanks, but I know Saturday is your busiest day on the preserve," Brian said, answering for all three of them. Dan worked with Mr. Maypenny, the Wheeler’s gamekeeper, with patrolling.

"I’ll take Bobby and the twins to a double feature, " Diana offered, referring to her younger brothers and the youngest Belden.

"Thanks Di. He doesn’t know anything about this yet. We’re not sure how much to tell him," Trixie said, trying to smile her thanks. At 11, they weren’t sure how much Bobby would be able to understand. They didn’t want to frighten him, but they also knew it was unfair to leave him in the dark.

It was a sober group that departed the usually happy clubhouse. Why did Jim run off? How could he do that when I, when we, need him? Trixie wondered unhappily the entire way back to the little farmhouse in the hollow. But no answer came to her.

 

"Mother! Have you seen Jim?" Honey asked breathlessly, running into the luxurious living room where her mother sat curled up on the couch, reading a letter.

Mrs. Wheeler laid the letter down on her lap, looking at her usually calm daughter in surprise. "Jim went running up to his room not five minutes ago like a pack of dogs was chasing him. What’s going on?" Her hazel eyes, so like Honey’s, were filled with concern.

Honey sank down next to her mother, throwing her arms around her neck,

"What is it baby?" Mrs. Wheeler stroked the shiny light brown hair, rocking Honey as if she were 5 years old again. "Is it Mrs. Belden?"

"You know?" Honey asked, hugging her mother tighter. I don’t know what I’d do if it were my mother she thought to herself.

"Yes, Helen called me this morning," Mrs. Wheeler sighed, gently wiping her fingers under her daughter’s streaming eyes. "I know it’s horrible, but she’s getting the best care. We just have to pray for her."

Honey nodded. "I will," she said seriously. She looked at her mother. "Something happened to Jim. When Brian told us the news he looked like…I don’t know what he looked like. It was terrible." She shuddered remembering the look of Jim’s face. "He ran out of the clubhouse."

Mrs. Wheeler looked distressed. "I’ll go upstairs and talk to him. Have Cook make you a cup of Chamomile tea, you look all in." She kissed her daughter on the cheek. "Go on now," she urged.

"All right," Honey agreed, slowly walking away. Mrs. Wheeler stared after her a moment, wishing she could protect her from the bad news of life. It was, she knew, an impossible dream.

*     *     *

A moment later she lightly rapped on her son’s door. Silence greeted her. "Jim?" she said opening the door a crack and peering inside to see him hurriedly shove something under his pillow. She opened the door wider and walked in. "Son? Honey told me what happened. Do you want to talk about it?" She sat next to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Please tell me," she urged.

Jim turned to face her, his face a study in misery. "I can’t," he said simply, rubbing his hands on his jeans. Mrs. Wheeler nodded, squeezing his shoulder.

"I just want you to know that I’m here when you’re ready." She hesitated a moment. "Son, what did you hide under your pillow when I walked in?" She had a pretty good idea.

Jim slowly drew the old photograph from underneath the pillow. He didn’t speak or look at his adopted mother.

"That’s your mother, isn’t it?" she asked gently. When he didn’t answer, she went on, "Jim it’s okay. It’s all right sweetheart." She drew his head down onto her shoulder.

"I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t want you to think that I…"

"That you still loved her? But Jim, of course you do. She’s your mother." Jim lifted his head and looked at his adopted mother, guilt and surprise washing over his features in equal measure. "Your Dad and I never expected you to stop loving your other family. In fact, that’s why we decided that you should keep your own last name. To honor your roots, James Winthrop Frayne the Second." Mrs. Wheeler touched Jim’s face. "Don’t feel guilty, honey. Don’t do that to yourself."

Jim felt something hard in himself break up, something he hadn’t even known was there until that moment. He looked at the blonde smiling woman in the picture, her animated face almost seeming to speak to him.

"You must have loved her very much," Mrs. Wheeler said, smiling at the boy who was a head taller than she was.

Jim nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"You’ve never talked much about your life before you came to live with us. You know that you can, don’t you?" Mrs. Wheeler looked into Jim’s eyes with understanding.

He drew in a shaky breath. "I don’t know where to begin," he said, laying back on the bed, pillowing his head with his arms, resting the picture of his mother on his chest.

Mrs. Wheeler scooted back against the wall, sitting Indian style on the bed like a teenager. "I think you should begin by telling me why you left the clubhouse the way you did," she said quietly.

The sun sparkled through the windows, filling the room with light as Jim, slowly at first, spoke the words that had filled him since his mother died 5 years before.

 

Chapter 4

"How are you feeling, Moms?" Trixie asked, setting the tray of soup in front of her mother, who sat up in bed.

"I don’t think I can eat this honey. I’m sorry," Mrs. Belden replied, her face looking thin and haggard. Trixie sat next to her mother on the edge of the bed, her heart aching.

"Oh Moms, you need to keep your strength up," she said worriedly.

"I know, but these treatments make me so sick to my stomach I’m afraid to eat anything," her mother replied, trying to smile at her only daughter.

"Just a little," Trixie urged, spooning up some of the homemade tomato soup, lifting it to her mother’s mouth as if she were a child. "Here comes the train!" she joked, rewarded by a smile from her mother. Almost one month had gone by since the meeting at the clubhouse, the hardest month in the Belden family history. Brian had returned to school under protest, but his parents would not hear of him missing any of the semester. He returned every weekend, cheering up his family with funny stories about his dorm. Trixie and Mart raced home from school everyday, eager to do whatever they could for their mother. It cheered the family immeasurably that so many people rallied around them, eager to help. Miss Trask, Honey’s former governess, insisted on watching Mrs. Belden during the day, calling on her experience caring for her invalid sister. Mrs. Wheeler was also a frequent caller, bringing delicacies to tempt Mrs. Belden’s disappearing appetite. The Bob Whites ran errands and helped with the housework, lifting the morale of the household with their enterprising good cheer. But with one noticeable exception. Jim. He had become a stranger.

Trixie shook her head, setting the tray on the nightstand as she went about the room restlessly straightening, opening the curtains to let in the light and air.

"What’s troubling you dear?" her mother asked, a little color returning to her cheeks as the good food warmed her.

Even when she’s sick, she manages to notice when I’m upset about something. Trixie marveled. Not wanting to bother her mother, she smiled and said, "Oh, it’s nothing. Really, Moms."

"It’s not ‘nothing’ Trixie. Come on, I want you to tell me." Her mother urged. Trixie slowly walked back to the bed and again sat next to he mother.

"I don’t want to bother you Moms," she said.

"Hearing about you is not a bother, Trixie. It will bother me more knowing that something is on your mind and you’re not telling me," Mrs. Belden said firmly.

Trixie smiled at her mother. "Try keeping anything from you!" Her smile faded as she said, "It’s Jim. I just can’t believe him. Everyone has been such a help, and he…he," she broke off, upset.

Mrs. Belden nodded slowly, picking up her daughter’s hand. "You’re upset because he hasn’t been coming around." She said. It was not a question.

"Yes," Trixie said simply, staring at the floor.

"Have you tried to talk to him about it?" she asked.

"No," Trixie admitted. "I’ve…well I’ve been too…"

"Mad?" her mother supplied helpfully.

Trixie sighed. "Mad," she agreed, feeling small.

"That’s a good, honest emotion, Trixie. But Jim is one of your best friends and I want you stop and consider things before you condemn him."

Trixie rose, pacing the room restlessly. "What’s to consider? The Bob-Whites are supposed to be there for one another. They’re supposed to help in a time of need. And he hasn’t even come over! It’s like he doesn’t care!" her voice revealed the hurt she felt at this betrayal.

"Oh Trixie, he cares. Believe me, he cares," Mrs. Belden said. She had already had a long conversation with Mrs. Wheeler and understood far more than she let on.

"Then why doesn’t he show it? Why doesn’t he come over? I just don’t get it. If anyone should understand, it’s him!" Trixie said in one breath.

"Understand what, dear?" Mrs. Belden asked quietly.

Trixie started, her face burning. She didn’t want to say what was on her mind. It was too ghastly to even think, let alone say out loud.

"If anyone should understand what it’s like to have your mother die, it’s Jim." Mrs. Belden said flatly. Trixie started to cry silently. "Oh baby, baby, don’t cry, it’s okay, it’s okay," she crooned, holding out her arms. Trixie went to her, holding her mother tightly. "I think about that too," she admitted, rubbing Trixie’s back. "It’s only human to think the worst. But we need to stay positive. Okay?" she finished, handing her daughter a wad of tissues.

"I’ll try," Trixie replied, loudly blowing her nose.

"Good girl," her mother responded. "And I want you to think about what you just said about Jim."

"You mean about him understanding what it means…" Trixie broke off. Her mother looked at her seriously, wanting her to figure it out for herself.

Trixie thought about what Jim had told her one time about his mother. "You’d have liked her, Trix—she’s a lot like your mother," he had said. Slow realization dawned on her, filling her with shame.

"Oh Moms, he’s thinking about, thinking about…and it’s like it’s happening…"

"All over again," her mother finished, squeezing her hand.

"And I’ve thought such horrible things!" Trixie lamented. "I thought he didn’t care. Some friend I’ve been," she finished bitterly.

Mrs. Belden patted her hand. "Don’t be so hard on yourself dear. This hasn’t been an easy time for any of us. Why don’t you go talk to him?"

Trixie nodded, leaning down and kissing her mother on the cheek. "I will. You’re the best mother in the whole world!"

Mrs. Belden smiled at her impetuous daughter. "Just remember that the next time I ask you to dust!" she laughed.

To be continued…

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