The Secret of the Other Mansion

        Part Four

Author’s notes:

In Part Three, Matthew Wheeler went to the Fraynes’ house to see if they knew his old acquaintance. There was nobody home, but Matt noticed that the back door was slightly ajar and he went on inside. After a few minutes, Katie returned to the house and confronted the intruder with a familiar-looking shotgun, only to discover it is her late husband’s old friend.

Our story picks up the next morning in the Manor House dining room. What is our handsome widower thinking about now? What secret is he hiding? And will Honey and Trixie EVER meet?

One last thing… This chapter is dedicated to Paige. Readers never know how one well-placed email, personal message or reply on the Message Board will encourage a writer to blow the dust off a story and resume telling it. I was half-heartedly working on this, wondering if anyone would even care if it was updated, when I got an email from Paige, wondering when more of this story would be posted. It was just the thing I needed to encourage me. Thank you so much, Paige!

Chapter 8

           Matthew Wheeler stared at his morning edition of the Wall Street Journal. Though it appeared that he was intently studying the stock report, in reality he was a million miles away. To be more precise, he was visiting his life seventeen years ago. Ever since his surprise meeting with Katie Frayne the day before, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that fateful day when he had met her for the first time.

It all seemed like yesterday…

“C’mon, Win,” he had pleaded to his best friend as they sat on the campus lawn eating their brown-bagged lunches. “It’s supposed to be a great party. Lots of pretty girls there…”

Win Frayne studied him, his trademarked lopsided grin on his face. “There are pretty girls all over the campus, Matt.”

“Oh, really?” he challenged. “So my honorable friend has noticed more than the scenery all this time?”

“Of course I’ve noticed the pretty girls,” Win snorted. “I just haven’t met one I want to have a meaningful relationship with, that’s all.”

“Then you’re just not looking hard enough,” Matt teased. “I’ve found several just this past month.”

“Somehow, I don’t think our definition of ‘meaningful’ is the same,” Win informed him. “I’m looking for someone I can get serious about. You, on the other hand, are looking for… Well, never mind what you’re looking for.”

“Who wants to get serious?” Matt laughed incredulously. “We’re still young. I just want to go out and have a little bit of fun. So, are you game?”

Win shook his head. “I’m not interested.”

Matt smirked at his best friend. “You aren’t interested in going out with a beautiful girl? Are you dead or maybe just…” He made a limp-wristed gesture to finish his statement.

Win rolled his eyes. “We’ve talked about this before, Matt. I’m not interested in having casual flings.”

“C’mon, Frayne! There’s supposed to be a lot of pretty girls there…” he repeated in a sing-song voice.

 “I don’t need to go to some stupid frat party to find pretty girls. Look, there’s one over there by the door. And there’s one by the snack stand. And wow! There’s another one b—”

“You’ve made your point, Frayne,” Matt interrupted wryly.

“Pretty girls are a dime a dozen,” Win said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “Like I said, I’m looking for someone special.”

“Maybe you’ll find her at this frat party,” Matt suggested. It was obvious that he was annoying his friend with his persistence; however, the devilish grin on his face made it obvious that Matt didn’t care.

Win shook his head stubbornly. “I’m not looking for the kind of girls that go to your frat parties, Matt.”

“Lots of nice girls go to frat parties,” Matt pointed out.

“But the nice ones aren’t invited to your frat parties,” Win said with a smirk.

“What’s wrong with the girls that come to our parties?” Matt looked hurt by his friend’s statement.

“They’re not my type,” Win answered with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

“Not your type?” he repeated incredulously. “So you don’t like drop-dead gorgeous knockouts?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Win rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I don’t have anything in common with those girls. I’m a farm boy at Harvard on a scholarship. They’re high class dames, with last names like Rockefeller, Vanderbilt, and Hart.”

“So?”

“Those girls have more pedigrees than the prize-winning pooches at the Westminster Dog Show,” Win snorted. “Why would they be interested in a small town boy, content with living a simple life studying animals?”

Matt had tried to assume an innocent expression. “Rich girls need lovin’ too.”

Win threw his red head back and laughed. “Well, my friend, I’ll leave that to you. I’m on the lookout for Miss Right.”

“Until you find her, I could introduce you to Miss Right-Now,” he offered with a wink.

“I’m sure you could,” Win replied, a wry smirk on his face. “However, the role of ‘campus gigolo’ is currently being played rather well by Matthew Wheeler. I’m not interested in auditioning for the part of understudy.”

“You never know,” he commented. “One of those socialites could be Miss Right.”

Win tilted his head slightly. “I don’t think so. I’m just not comfortable with that crowd. They’re too cut-throat for me.”

“Not all of them are like that.”

“I know, but I’d rather not sift through the chaff.” Win tossed the blade of grass he had been twiddling and plucked another.

The two friends sat in companionable silence, watching other students milling around them. After several minutes, Win asked, “What about you, Matt? You interested in finding Miss Right?”

“Honestly?” He cast a devilish grin at his friend. “At the moment, I’m more interested in Miss Right-Now. And Miss New York. And Miss Rhode Island. And Miss Cal—”

Win shook his head disparagingly at his friend. “You’re incorrigible, my friend. Simply incorrigible.”

“Thank you very much,” he said gallantly. “I do try, you know.”

Win leaned back in the grass against his elbow and studied Matt carefully. “You can’t fool me, Wheeler. You think you’re a player, but deep down, you want exactly what I want.”

Matt looked at Win in bewilderment, his eyes wide. “You want to go out with the Homecoming Queen, too?”

Win merely snickered and tossed his now empty crunched-up can of soda at Matt. “Trying to change the subject?”

Matt made a waving motion at Win. “Pbbbbtt,” he sputtered. “By all means, Professor, tell me what I want.”

Win accepted the challenge, a gleam in his bright green eyes. “All right, I will. You want to be happy.”

“So does everyone else on the planet,” Matt said with a snort. “No big revelations there. What else have you got, Einstein?”

“You think having a big career, lots of money, and a high society lifestyle will make you happy,” Win continued. With a grim look, he added quietly, “But it won’t.”

Matt shifted around, suddenly quite uncomfortable. “You seem awfully sure about that.”

“I am,” Win replied. “I know you better than I know the back of my hand, Matt. You and I are a lot alike. Our biggest difference is that I’m comfortable with who I am.”

“And I’m not?” His dark aquamarine eyes blazed.

“No, you’re not,” Win told him honestly. “You seem almost desperate to succeed, to climb the social ladder.”

 Though Matt wanted to be angry with Win, he could not. His honorable friend’s earnest expression told him that Win meant well. Win Frayne was nothing if not honest, painfully honest even. He swallowed loudly, and then asked, “And why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’m afraid that the top of the executive ladder isn’t going to be as great as you think it’ll be,” Win answered, a gentle smile on his face. “True happiness isn’t found in possessions or accomplishments; it’s found in those we love.”

Matt snickered in an attempt to make light of Win’s statement. “I didn’t realize you were majoring in philosophy. All this time, I thought you were getting a double major in education and zoology.”

“Laugh if you want, Wheeler,” Win said with a shrug. “It doesn’t change the truth. Get your MBA. Glad-hand your way to the top. Fight and claw once you’re there to make sure nobody knocks you off the highest rung. But you won’t be happy.”

Matt raised an incredulous russet eyebrow at Win. “And you will be?”

“Yep,” Win nodded. “I’ve got it all planned out. After graduation, I’m going to teach in a small school, maybe do a little work on the side for one of the state parks. I’m going to find Miss Right and hopefully she’ll agree to be Mrs. Frayne. Once we’re settled, we’ll have a few kids that I’ll shower with attention. Eventually, I’ll start my boys’ school, and I’ll devote the rest of my life to my family and my students.”

“Got it all mapped out, huh?”

“Yep,” Win nodded again, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Well, who’s to say that I won’t be happy doing what I plan to do?” he asked defensively. “There’s no reason I won’t be able to have a family even though I’m majoring in business. I’m just not looking for a commitment right now.”

“And when you do start looking for Miss Right, are you going to look for her in that crowd?” Win motioned to the “silver spoon” students, which congregated in their own exclusive spot on the campus lawn. 

“I might,” Matt said with a shrug. “Why not? I can fall in love with someone rich just as easily as I could someone poor. If Miss Right is heir to some fortune, so much the better.”

Win sat upright, his scrutinizing gaze never leaving Matt’s face. “Surely you aren’t going to set out to marry a millionaire’s daughter?”

Matt merely dusted some stray breadcrumbs off his tan Dockers, carefully avoiding eye contact with his friend.

“You can’t pick who you fall in love with,” Win told him. “Someone once told me that the heart is an involuntary muscle. Sometimes it picks the unlikeliest of subjects to love.”

“I can fall in love with a Rockefeller just as easily as I can a Jones,” Matt told him stubbornly.

Win’s handsome face became thoughtful. “Why are you so desperate to fit in with that crowd, Matt?”

“What do you mean?”

Win nervously picked a blade of grass and absentmindedly studied it. “I don’t know. It just seems like you’re trying hard to make friends with that hoity-toity crew. Trying too hard.”

“There’s nothing wrong with making friends outside your social circle,” he stated defensively.

“True,” Win agreed, “but I’m just worried about your motives. I don’t want you to get in over your head.”

“I know what I’m doing.” Matt’s jaw set stubbornly as he gazed in the opposite direction.

“Rich people, really rich people, aren’t like us,” Win told him, trying to phrase his words carefully.

“Aren’t you being kind of stereotypical?”

Win shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe. Maybe not.” 

“Isn’t your uncle wealthy?” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but Uncle James isn’t obsessed with money,” Win argued. “That’s the difference. There’s nothing wrong with having money; it just becomes a problem when money is all you think about and you’ll do anything to get it. That’s when you end up in trouble.”

“Ah, once again the biology professor is waxing poetic,” Matt teased, trying to lighten the mood. “Are you positive you haven’t changed your major?”

With a roll of his bright green eyes, Win stood and dusted off the seat of his jeans. “Speaking of biology, I have a paper to write. I need to go to the library.”

“Mind if I tag along?” Matt asked. “I have another hour or two to waste.”

“Sure,” Win answered as he picked up the trash from his and Matt’s lunches. “Of course, you’re not likely to find any of the Vanderbilts hanging around by the card catalogue.”

“Hardy-har-har,” Matt chortled, a big grin on his face.

The two walked to the building that housed Harvard’s large library. Spotting a poster for the upcoming football game, the two began discussing the upcoming game against Yale.

“I don’t know,” Win shrugged. “I wouldn’t get too cocky. You can’t underestimate Yale’s defense. They’ve got a slew of linebackers that look like Cro-Magnon men.”

“Cro-Magnon men?” Matt repeated with a chuckle.

“Yeah,” Win snickered. “They look like they were defrosted from some block of ice from prehistoric times.”

“Well, our quarterback’s pretty good,” Matt argued as the two walked through the library doors. “I’m sure he can take on a few Neanderthals.”

          “I hope so,” Win said, “but word is that this defensive line likes to eat quarterbacks for lunch.”

          “You’re such a pessimist,” Matt snorted loudly.

 The elderly librarian glared at the two young men. “Ssshh!” she hissed at them. 

          “No, I’m a realist,” Win quarreled, making an effort to keep his voice low.

          “Now, the big question is: Do you see the glass half-empty or half-full?” Matt queried with a grin.

          Win scratched his chin. “Neither. I see the glass as it really is. What about you?”

          “I’m an optimist,” Matt informed him.

          Win feigned confusion. “I thought the word was ‘opportunist’?”

          “Opportunist?” Matt repeated in a hurt tone. He responded by jokingly shoving his friend… right into someone walking up to the librarian’s desk.

          “Oof!” the person exclaimed as the books in her hands went flying.

          Matt stifled a chuckle, watching as a blur of body parts and books went airborne.  Win had plowed into someone, and ended up sprawled out on top of his victim. His chuckle soon became wedged in his throat as he watched his best friend stand to his feet and offer his assistance to a petite blonde.

  “Oops! Sorry about that!” Win said good-naturedly. “Let me help you up.”

Matt gasped as the blonde looked up. Her large eyes were wide and the bluest color he had ever seen. Her high cheekbones were tinged with red, no doubt the result of a blush. Her full pink lips were set in a thin line, an indication of her obvious displeasure. Wispy golden tendrils framed her heart-shaped face, accenting her delicate features.

She was the most beautiful woman Matt had ever laid eyes on.

Matt stood by silently as he watched Win offer the girl his hand to help her up. The girl’s bright blue eyes locked with his friend’s green ones. After several moments of mental debate, the girl hesitantly grasped it and allowed Win to pull her to her feet. 

Almost as if he was frozen, Matt remained rooted to the spot, watching as his friend and this stranger wordlessly stared into each other’s eyes. He wondered if he should make his presence known, but for the moment, he was too captivated by the young lady to do anything.

After what seemed like an eternity, the blonde broke the silence. “You should watch where you’re going,” she scolded. “I’m in a hurry. I have a big psychology paper due tomorrow that I have yet to start. I can’t waste time playing bumper cars here in the library.”

Matt watched as Win’s eyes grew greener. “Look, I said I’m sorry. My friend and I were talking and I didn’t see you.”

Matt gulped loudly as the blonde turned to him, noticing him for the first time. He smiled at the girl, hoping desperately that she would smile back at him. However, the spitfire was in no mood for pleasantries.

Win obviously picked up on the fact that this damsel in distress was not grateful for his assistance. His infamous temper rising, he added, “For that matter, if you hadn’t procrastinated, you might not be in such a rush.”

Matt’s eyebrow’s rose as he wondered how the blonde would react to Win’s lecturing. Much to his surprise, the spitfire stomped her foot and placed her small hands on her hips. “I don’t think it’s any business of yours if I wait till the last minute to write my paper. I don’t need any lectures from you. And for that matter, I’ll—”

Win laughed, his emerald green eyes twinkling merrily. “Calm down, blondie. I didn’t mean to lecture. It must be my major talking. I have a double major in education and zoology, and I’ve been accused of practicing my teacher lectures on my friends.” 

Matt watched as his friend stuck his hand out to the girl. He wondered wryly if the girl would shake it, or turn on her heel and leave. And though it made him uncomfortable to admit it, Matt wasn’t sure if he wanted her to shake Win’s hand.

 He sighed in disappointment as the girl took Win’s proffered hand.

 “Very nice to meet you,” his best friend told her. “My name is Win Frayne.”

“I’m Katje Vanderheiden, but everyone calls me Katie,” the blonde said shyly.

Matt’s heart raced as Katie smiled. He was too enraptured to even care that she was smiling at Win, not him. He studied her admiringly, wondering if an artist’s brush could do justice to this beautiful creature. Finally, his gaze fell on her hand, still clasped in Win’s.

Matt’s dark greenish-blue eyes quickly darted from Katie to Win. His friend gave her that charming lopsided grin for which he was famous as he reluctantly withdrew his hand.

“Ah, you must be of Dutch descent,” Win murmured.

“That’s right. My family is originally from Holland.”

“Well, that explains the pretty blonde hair and the big blue eyes.”

Win’s laying it on mighty thick, Matt thought to himself. I wonder if she’s interested.

 Much to his chagrin, Katie blushed and batted her long lashes at his friend. To make matters worse, though she was trying to be discreet, it was obvious that the blonde was checking out Win’s muscular form.

Yep, he unhappily admitted to himself, she’s interested.

 Never being a glutton for punishment, Matt decided he had seen enough and that three was most certainly a crowd. He nervously cleared his throat to get Win and Katie’s attention, and then said, “Well, since nobody else has introduced me, I suppose I’ll do it myself. My name is Matt Wheeler, and I was just heading to the fiction section. Pleasure to meet you, Katie.”

 He smiled at Katie and gave a quick wink to Win. “It will probably take me a long time to find what I’m looking for, so you two go on and don’t worry about me.” He sauntered off in the other direction.

Matt made his way to the fiction section of the library, peeking every so often at the couple. It was obvious that they were enjoying one another’s company. With a glum sigh, Matt chose a well-worn copy of Shakespeare’s “Antony and Cleopatra” and sat down at a nearby table, preferring to engross himself in the Bard’s tragedy rather than think about his own.

“Good morning, Daddy.” His daughter’s pleasant voice, quickly followed by her kiss on his cheek, brought Matthew back to the present.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he replied, plastering a smile on his face. He folded his newspaper and laid it aside on the dining room table.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Honey told him apologetically. It was obvious that she wanted her father’s approval, as well as his attention. “I’ll be quiet if you want to keep reading your paper.”

Matthew placed a comforting hand on his daughter’s slender arm. The worried look in her wide hazel eyes disturbed him. All of her young life, Honey had been afraid of being a nuisance, and sadly enough, he knew her fears were not totally unfounded. To her mother, Honey usually was considered a nuisance. Now it was up to him to give her the attention she so desperately craved, but was always afraid to ask for.

“There was nothing interesting in there anyway,” he assured her. “I’m much more curious about how my lovely daughter will be spending her day.”

Honey giggled, and a faint blush brightened her pale cheeks. The effect was actually quite becoming. “Oh, Daddy,” she murmured, her tone more delighted than embarrassed. “Well, I was thinking about going down to the lake for a swim later. It’s been kind of hot, you know.”

Matthew nodded. It certainly had been hot lately… 

“And if the neighbor girl you told me about hasn’t come up by this evening,” she continued, unaware of her father’s train of thought, “I might walk down to her house. If that would be okay.” She added the last phrase uncertainly, almost as if she hoped her father would forbid her from going.

“That would be a nice thing for you to do, Honey,” Matthew said, squeezing her arm encouragingly.

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be considered rude?” Honey’s thin face was scrunched up, clearly showing her disbelief.

“Of course it wouldn’t be rude,” her father assured her. “I told you yesterday that things are different here in the country. Why just yesterday, I walked right into one of our other neighbors’ houses…” Matthew’s face grew wistful as he left his sentence hanging.

“You did?” Honey bolted upright in her seat at the dining room table, her hazel eyes large as she listened to this shocking piece of news.  “When did this happen, Daddy?”

“Yesterday evening,” Matthew answered with a chuckle. “I went to the Fraynes’ house to see if they were related to one of my chums from college. I noticed the backdoor wasn’t closed all the way, so I went inside.”

“Without being invited?”

Matthew found his daughter’s horrified expression extremely humorous. “Yes, without even being invited.”

“What happened then?” Honey urged.

“The owner of the house came home,” he explained. “And she pulled a gun on me.”

“Oh, Daddy!” Honey gasped. “Did the lady really pull a gun on you?”

“She certainly did,” Matthew affirmed with a grin.

“What did you do?”

“Luckily, the house does belong to some of Win’s relatives. When Katie turned on the light, she recognized me. Thankfully, she took a good look at me before she pulled the trigger.”

“Oh, Daddy!” Honey repeated, her complexion even paler than usual. “Thank goodness she knew who you were! I’d just be heartbroken if my very own full-blooded father was killed. So who was the woman with the gun?”

Matthew’s chuckle turned into a thoughtful smile. “Her name is Katie. She married my roommate from college.”

“Really?” Honey’s light brown eyebrows rose in surprise. “So you have a friend who lives around here? When can I meet him?”

His dark aquamarine eyes grew a bit cloudy. “I wish you could’ve met Win, sweetheart, but Katie told me that he died several years ago.”

“Oh,” Honey gasped. “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

Matthew smiled at his daughter reassuringly. He grasped her hand in his and squeezed it. “Thank you, Honeybee. I’d lost contact with Win after he got married, but it did come as quite a shock. He was a good man.”

Honey nodded and returned the squeeze. “I wish I’d known him.”

“So do I.”

“How did Win’s wife end up in Sleepyside?” Honey asked curiously.

“Win’s uncle lived here,” he explained. “You know, come to think of it, I remember Win saying that he had family near White Plains, but I had no idea it was Sleepyside.”

“That’s a strange coincidence,” Honey commented. She paused as Celia came into the dining room, carrying two plates of omelets and toast. She smothered a giggle as she watched the pretty maid “accidentally” brush against her father as she set his plate in front of him.

After casting an annoyed glance in Celia’s direction, Matthew nodded. “Yes, it is.” He sighed impatiently as the maid hovered over him, freshening his coffee, fluffing his linen napkin, reaching the sugar for him…

“Daddy, how did Katie end up in Sleepyside?”

Matthew shifted his attention to his daughter, rather than the overbearing maid. “Apparently she and her son lost everything after Win died and had to move in with Win’s uncle.”

“How sad,” Honey said sympathetically. “So Win and Katie have a son?”

He stirred his coffee, took a sip, and then nodded in agreement. “Yes. Katie told me Jim just turned fifteen.”

“Wow!” Honey’s eyes brightened. “Another teenager, right on this very road! And I was so afraid that I’d be out here all alone. Oh, wouldn’t we have had so much fun if…” Honey nervously looked over at Celia, still hovering around her father. The shy girl left her sentence hanging as she looked down and began playing with her food. 

Matthew looked up at the young woman impatiently. Enough was enough. “That will be all, Celia,” he told her sternly. “Why don’t you see if Rachel needs your help in the kitchen?”

The pretty maid’s perky smile quickly dissolved into a crestfallen frown. “Yes, sir, Mr. Wheeler.” However, she obediently hustled into the kitchen.

Once free of Celia’s presence, Matthew sighed in relief. He looked over at his daughter, hoping to see a smile on her face. Much to his consternation, Honey’s expression was still quite mournful.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

She glanced up at her father, a lock of hair falling into her eyes. Though she was thirteen, she looked about eleven years old. Her wide hazel eyes appeared much too large for her gaunt face.

Matthew’s eyebrows lowered in concern as he studied his daughter’s appearance. She had never been chubby, even as a baby, but her face had always been attractively rounded. Years of sickness, compounded by her mother’s death, had taken their toll upon the young girl. Her face was now thin, almost hollow-looking. Her normally ruddy expression was now deathly pale, accentuating the dark blue circles under her sunken-in eyes. He feared if Honey’s health did not improve soon, he would lose her as well.

And losing his daughter simply was not an option.

“What’s the matter, Honey?” he repeated gently.

She merely shrugged, her eyes locking onto the ivy pattern on the china plate in front of her. “I don’t know. I guess I just started thinking about how much fun it would’ve been if Mother and Win were still alive. Jim and I could’ve had all sorts of fun while you and Mother played bridge with Win and Katie. But now…”

“Now it won’t be fun?” Matthew quietly supplied for her, sensing she couldn’t finish the sentence.

Honey nodded, her downcast glance avoiding her father’s.

He gently cupped his daughter’s chin, and lifted her face up so that their eyes met. “You’ll still have fun, Honeybee, I promise. You’ll meet Trixie and Jim and have lots of adventures. You’ll grow strong and healthy. All your bad memories of the past will slowly fade, and soon you’ll only be able to remember the good ones.”

Honey’s hazel eyes filled with tears. “Wouldn’t that be wrong?” she stammered. “Would I be a bad person if I… laughed again and… tried to be happy?”

Matthew shook his head, not trusting his voice. He tenderly stroked his daughter’s cheek, and after clearing his throat, he replied in a husky tone, “Your mother would want you to laugh again, sweetheart. I want you to laugh again. That wouldn’t make you a bad person at all.”

She merely nodded. She plastered a bright smile on her face. “I’ll try and have fun, Daddy. Just for you.”

Matthew once again shook his head. “No, Honey. Do it for you.” He leaned over the table and kissed her gently on the forehead.

Honey smiled, and this time her grin was real. “So what are you going to do today, Daddy?”

“I’m not sure,” he answered, looking at his watch. “I need to go into the office later, but I think there might be time for a quick swim in the lake before I go.”

“Really?” Her hazel eyes sparkled at the prospect of not having to go down to the lake by herself. “That would be perfectly perfect! I really didn’t want to swim by myself. I was going to ask Miss Trask, but she isn’t here this morning.” Honey paused and looked around the kitchen table. “Where is Miss Trask?”

“I sent Marge into White Plains earlier,” her father explained, making sure to keep his tone nonchalant. “I asked her to pick up a few things that we needed around here. A bike, some moccasins, a few pairs of dungarees…”

She waited with bated breath, but finally could not resist asking the question that was screaming in her mind. “Are those things for Miss Trask to use?”

Matthew scratched his chin, as if he was in deep thought. “Well, somehow I can’t see Marge wearing blue jeans and riding a bicycle. Hmm… Who else in Manor House would want those things?”

Honey jumped up from her seat at the dining room table and threw her arms around her father. “Oh, Daddy! My very own bike!”

Matthew chuckled as he relished his daughter’s embrace. “I’m glad you’re excited, sweetheart.”

“And dungarees! Real dungarees!” she exclaimed excitedly. “Oh, Daddy! I can’t believe you sent Miss Trask to buy me my very own blue jeans with honest-to-goodness holes in them!”

Matthew leaned his head back and laughed as Honey hopped back to her seat. “Well, I’m not sure, but I think that you have to put the holes in them yourself.”

“I will, Daddy! I will!” she solemnly promised.

“Just get the holes in your jeans carefully,” Matthew warned with a grin. “And try not to lose too much skin in the process.”

Honey nodded vigorously. “I won’t. Do you think Miss Trask could teach me how to ride my bike after she gets back?”

After he swallowed his sip of coffee, Matthew responded, “If she can’t, maybe you could ask Regan. I’ll bet he’d be willing to help if Miss Trask is too busy. And you know, I could give you a few pointers when I get home this evening.” 

“Thank you, Daddy!” Honey jumped up once again and began gracefully dancing around the formal living room. “Oh, this will just be the best summer ever!”

Matthew watched his daughter, his dark green eyes twinkling in amusement. “Sweetheart, you’re going to need energy if we’re going to swim. Maybe you should sit down and finish your breakfast.”

She giggled as she pirouetted back to her chair. “You’re right, Daddy. I promise to eat every single bite.”

“That’s my girl.” He smiled lovingly at her. “I’m going upstairs to change into my trunks.”

Honey nodded, properly waiting until she had chewed up and swallowed the bite of omelet in her mouth before speaking. “I’ll be finished eating soon, and it won’t take long to put my bathing suit on.”

“All right. I’ll meet you at the lake.” Matthew turned to exit the dining room.

“Daddy?”

Matthew stopped and looked questioningly back at his daughter.

“I love you.”

All the heaviness of heart from earlier that morning disappeared at his daughter’s three little words. And at that moment, he realized Win Frayne had been the wisest man in the world all those years ago.

True happiness isn’t found in possessions or accomplishments; it’s found in those we love.

And at that moment, Matthew Wheeler was the happiest man on earth. He smiled tenderly at his daughter, and through his tears he choked out, “I love you, too, Honeybee.”

Credits:

Thank you SOOOO much to my lovely editors, Steph H, Kathy, and Kaye. Steph agreed to jump on board and help with this story too (although she was very nervous at first! *snicker* ). All three of you offered so many things to this story, and I truly am grateful for your assistance. {{{HUGS}}}

Thank you to Carol for finding these lovely graphics.

In the story “Good Night, Little Man” found in my Portraits of the Past universe, we learn that Matt and Win went to Harvard.

Win looking for “a special girl” is a blatant reference to Jim and his special girl.

No offense to any sorority girls out there! If I had stayed in college, I would have been one myself. However, the girls in this particular sorority aren’t very nice. Think snotty, uppity, rich society types… The girls in this sorority apparently have last names like: Rockefeller, Vanderbilt, and Hart. The Rockefellers and the Vanderbilts are well-known society types, and gosh, golly, gee, I wonder who that Hart girl is…?

The Westminster Dog Show is a famous, well, DOG SHOW. *G*

I have no idea if Miss Rhode Island, Miss New York, and Miss Connecticut are actually enrolled at Harvard at this time. However, if they are, I’m sure Matt will track them down.  ;)

Einstein was a really smart dude. He figured out some equation thing… E=MC squared. *snort* Like we needed to know that… ;)

Yes, I know you aren’t allowed to crunch up cans now in that area. But see, this is MY universe, and if Win Frayne wants to crunch up cans, then that’s A OK with me.

The account of Matt, Win and Katie’s meeting in the library was first told in “Keeping Up with the Joneses”. This time, we see the event through Matt’s eyes.

“Antony and Cleopatra” is indeed a tragedy written by the great William Shakespeare.

This chapter was supposed to end with Honey finally meeting Trixie; however, Matt Wheeler had other ideas. He insisted that he spend time with his daughter, and I didn’t have the heart to disagree. So I obeyed and ended this segment with a really sappy father/daughter moment.

Hopefully, our two heroines’ paths will meet in the next chapter…

Home | Other Universes | May I Recommend…

http://MistyCreation.net