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Let’s Start the New Year Right
One
minute to One
minute to say good-bye before we say hello Let's start
the New Year right, When
they dim the light, let's begin Kissing
the old year out Kissing
the New Year in Let's
watch the old year die with a fond good-bye And our
hopes as high as a kite How can
our love go wrong if We start
the New Year right? New
Year’s Eve, at the Sleepyside Country Club… A sigh of utter contentment escaped
Trixie Belden’s slightly parted lips. In all of her twenty-five years, she’d
never known such bliss existed. Her complete satisfaction wasn’t due
to her surroundings. Though the festively decorated Sleepyside Country Club
would surely meet the approval of Martha Stewart herself, the lavish ballroom
wasn’t the source of her happiness. Trixie would be just as content if the
party were being held in the city dump. It wasn’t the lovely music being
played by the orchestra. Although she’d enjoyed each and every holiday song
the band played, Trixie’s joy would’ve been just as full even if the
woodwinds had been flat and the brass section sharp. After all, music was
powerful, but not nearly as overwhelming as the love she felt in her heart. It most certainly wasn’t the
ill-fitting dress and the torturous high-heels she was wearing. True, the
ivory satin material of the A-line formal gown cinched her waist,
accentuating its narrowness. The calf-length skirt swirled around her as she
and Jim danced, and the rhinestone-studded gold stilettos on her feet made
her legs appear long and shapely. But in spite of its pleasing appearance,
the gown was pure evil. The gold beading which embellished the dress’
plunging neckline was itchy, her panty hose were in dire need of a tug
upward, and Trixie was positive that her feet would be permanently deformed
after being squished into the ridiculously pointy-toed shoes for this entire
evening. No, her outfit definitely was not
the cause of her current state of euphoria. She glanced over at her friends.
Honey and Brian were deep in conversation at a nearby table. Trixie couldn’t
tell what subject they were discussing, but whatever it was, both
participants appeared to be quite contented. Their fingers were entwined on
the tabletop, and Honey’s head rested on Brian’s strong shoulder. Dan sat with them, Tom and Celia’s
sleepy-looking daughter cradled in his embrace. The dainty five-year-old was
clad in a festive, red taffeta holiday dress. The Christmas present from her
Uncle Danny, the book, Where the Wild Things Are, was clutched under her arm
as she fought the urge to close her eyes in slumber. A few feet away, Trixie’s middle
brother and his bride were dancing closely together. Mart looked down
adoringly at Diana, and she peered up at him with equal affection. They were
the epitome of a loving husband and wife. Yes, Trixie had thoroughly enjoyed
spending time with her family and friends. With their busy lives, it was rare
that all seven adult Bob-Whites were able to gather together in the same room
for any length of time, so this moment was one to be treasured. However, it
wasn’t the delightful company of her childhood companions that made her heart
so merry. As the old Irving Berlin song
drifted through the country club, a husky voice whispered in her ear. “Have I
mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?” Through a fringe of thick, sandy
lashes, Trixie peeked up at a pair of searing emerald eyes. Another blissful
sigh passed through her lips. This
was why she was so happy. More accurately, he was why she was so happy. Her entire state of bliss could be
summed up in a little three-letter, one-syllable word. Jim. Her contented smile evolved into a
mischievous grin as she looked up at her fiancé. “I think it’s been a whole
hour since you last told me,” was Trixie’s pert response to his earlier
inquiry. “But I could stand hearing it again.” A few minutes passed, but still Jim
said nothing. “Well?” Trixie prompted with an
expectant huff. “Weren’t you supposed to tell me something?” Jim’s face was the mask of
innocence. “What do you mean?” “Isn’t there something you were
going to say?” She assumed her sternest expression. “Something about how
beautiful I look?” “Well, obviously you already know how beautiful I think you are, so
there’s really no need for me to bore you with unnecessary information,” he
commented matter-of-factly. Trixie pulled away slightly so she
could glare up at him. “Excuuuuse me?” she drawled out, one eyebrow cocked. Chuckling, Jim pulled the petite
whirlwind closer to his broad chest to inhibit her potential path of
destruction. “You look beautiful.” As a further peace offering, he kissed her
forehead, and added, “But then, you’re always
gorgeous to me, Shamus.” “Good save, Frayne,” she murmured
teasingly. “I meant every word.” Suddenly, he
twirled her around the dance floor, allowing the satiny folds of her skirt to
flare out around her shapely legs. Once he drew her back in his embrace, he
whispered, “And at the risk of sounding like a broken record, that’s some dress.” “Thank you,” Trixie replied with a
pert smile. “I was hoping you’d like it when I picked it out.” “Did you get it at “They’ve
been out of business for years, silly.” Her chin edged its way up proudly.
“Actually, I found this little number at Boutique Lynch.” “The Lynch’s have their own dress
shop?” Jim inquired quizzically. Trixie giggled prettily, her eyes
sparkling simply from the sheer joy of being with the man she loved. “Di and
I both needed new dresses for tonight, but we were both short on ‘fundage’, so we raided her mom’s closet. With Mrs.
Lynch’s permission, of course.” “No offense to Mrs. Lynch or
anything,” Jim began a bit hesitantly, “but I… uhh… you and Di aren’t the
same size as her mom.” He glanced warily over at the table where Edward and
Carolyn Lynch were seated. Diana’s mother, like her daughter, had once held
the title of Prettiest Girl in Sleepyside. Carolyn, though several years
older now, had only grown more elegant as she aged. Once a delicate, youthful
beauty, she had evolved into a cultured, attractive lady of wealth. However,
through the years she had gone from a svelte size-eight to a more comfortable
size-fourteen, which was slightly larger than Trixie’s size-ten build and
Di’s size-six. After a spurt of fitful dieting, Carolyn finally resolved to
be content with the curves the good Lord had given her, a resolution which
suited Ed Lynch— a fan of the voluptuous feminine form— just fine. “Remember when Mrs. Lynch went on
that last crash diet at the spa in “You don’t have to pinch your pennies, you know,” Jim replied in a
nonchalant tone. “Your future husband has a few bucks saved up in the bank,
and he’d be happy to buy you a new evening gown.” “I know, but you aren’t my husband yet.” “Only because you’ve resisted my
coaxing,” Jim retorted teasingly. “A weaker woman would be sharing my bank
account by now. Not to mention my bed…” “Jim!” she managed to squeal through
a laugh. “I’ll be sharing your bank account— amongst other things— very soon. I’d feel like a
mooch if you started footing the bill for me now.” “But I like buying you things,” he told her, his voice taking on a
plaintive quality. “After all, you’re my special girl. You always have been.” Trixie rose up on tiptoes and
planted a kiss on her fiancé’s cheek. Smiling happily, she wiped away the
rosy pink smudge on Jim’s face, which just happened to be the exact shade of
the lip gloss she was wearing. “Once we’re married, you can buy me all the
expensive dresses your heart desires,” she told him with a wink. “I might
even wear them someplace.” “Strapless dresses that show a lot
of cleavage?” Jim waggled his ginger brows in a mischievous manner. “And
maybe one with a slit in the skirt that goes up to your thigh?” “If that’s what you like,” she
managed through a giggle. “Trust me, that’s what I like,” he assured her, a devilish twinkle in his
emerald-colored eyes. “Of course, what I’d
really like to see you wearing is a wedding dress.” He assumed an angelic
expression. “And just when will that be?” “Soon,” she hedged. “Very soon, I promise.” Before he could pressure her
further, the song ended, and Jim clasped Trixie’s hand, hastily placed a kiss
on her knuckles, and then led her back to the table where the other
Bob-Whites were seated. “Well, if it isn’t Fred Astaire and
Ginger Rogers,” Dan greeted as the couple sat down with the other Bob-Whites.
“Save me a dance later, Twinkle Toes?” “You betcha,”
Jim replied with a grin. Trixie cleared her throat. “Excuse
me, dear, but I think Dan was talking to me.”
“Actually Trixie, I was talking to Jim,” Dan deadpanned.
His tone and expression were so serious that his companions burst out
laughing. “What did I miss?” Mart questioned,
pulling out his wife’s chair for her before he claimed the one beside her. Brian shook his head in disdain. “You
don’t want to know.” He made a gagging sound as the orchestra began playing a
jazzy version of “Winter Wonderland”. “Doesn’t the band know anything besides
Christmas songs?” “ ‘Winter
Wonderland’ isn’t a Christmas song,” Honey argued. “It’s a winter song.” “Well, I don’t care what kind of
song it is, if it mentions the words ‘snow’, ‘jingle’ or ‘cheer’, I’m sick of
it,” Brian remarked. “How festive of you,” Di teased with a
titter. Brian rolled his eyes to express his
annoyance at the mere thought of more holiday songs. “The hospital lobby and
waiting rooms have been playing Christmas Muzak continually ever since the
beginning of November,” he explained. “I’ve been officially sick of Christmas
songs since the second week of December.” He looked pointedly at his longtime
girlfriend and added, “And before you ask, yes, I’m sick of winter
songs, too.” “The hospital began playing holiday
music in beginning of November?” Jim repeated incredulously. “What happened
to Thanksgiving?” Brian wearily shrugged his
shoulders. “Apparently the radio station cancelled it. Not enough thankful
songs to play nonstop twenty-four hours a day.” “Well, I like holiday songs,” Di said with a haughty lift of her chin.
“It kind of makes me sad when the deejays start playing regular music after
January first.” “Not me,” Dan commented. “It’d be
okay with me if the powers-that-be started playing holiday songs on Christmas
Eve and quit on December twenty-sixth. A man can only hear ‘Grandma Got Ran
Over By a Reindeer’ so many times without going crazy.” “I don’t get sick of it that quickly,” Jim said, chuckling. “I
think the radio stations should break out the holiday records the day after
Thanksgiving and put ‘em back the day after New
Year’s. That’s long enough to hear all the songs I like, but not long enough
to wear them out.” “You know, there are some people who never put up their Christmas music.” Mart coughed, and then gazed
intently at his wife. “What?” Di inquired innocently.
“There’s no law against listening to ‘O Holy Night’ in July.” “But there should be,” Brian replied
matter-of-factly. Mart grinned wryly. “There’s nothing
quite like listening to ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’
when “That’s just wrong,” Brian muttered with
a shake of his head. “You’re disrupting the whole order of the universe by
listening to Christmas music during the wrong time of the year.” “It’s not going to get the planets
out of alignment, Brian,” Di managed between giggles. “Besides, some Bible scholars think Jesus was
born in September, and July’s closer to September than December.” However, Brian could not be
dissuaded. “Listening to Christmas music in July is messed up, Di. End of
conversation.” Honey giggled. “I’m with Di; I
simply love holiday music. Don’t I, Trixie?” “She does.” Trixie groaned loudly.
“She’s just about driven me insane with her Bing Crosby CD.” Honey seemed undeterred by her best
friend’s lack of enthusiasm. “You can’t wear out Bing. I could hear him sing
‘White Christmas’ all day.” “And sometimes she does,” Trixie
said flatly. “If a blizzard would’ve snowed us in for an extended period of
time, I had planned on strapping her favorite CDs on my feet and using them
as ice skates so I could escape to the Farm.” “Ice skates wouldn’t have helped you
in a blizzard, Trix,” Mart corrected. Trixie glared at her slightly-older
brother, her sandy eyebrows drawn downward. “Then I would’ve used them as
snowshoes.” “At least I don’t listen to Bing in
July,” Honey pointed out defensively. “Although it might not be a bad idea…” Trixie held up a hand in protest.
“Let me first say that if you do, I
won’t be responsible for my actions.” “Hopefully you won’t be living with
Honey in July,” Jim commented with a wink. “Hopefully,” was all Trixie said. She cleared her throat nervously as she prepared to
change the subject. “So, Di, did your mom recover from her traumatic
experience?” Brian raised a dark brow in query as
Trixie, Honey, and Diana began giggling madly. “What ‘traumatic experience’
are you talking about, and why are you three
laughing like loons? Are you that
sadistic?” “It’s not important,” Mart interrupted, his cheeks redder than the poinsettias in the
flower arrangement on their table. “Nobody wants to hear about our little
Christmas mishap.” “Something tells me we do,” Dan
remarked with a wicked grin. “Please tell us your story, Di.” “Well, as you all know, I’ve begun
making scrapbooks,” Diana began, a merry twinkle in her eyes. “I thought it
would be nice to make a scrapbook for Mummy that had different pictures of
our family in it.” “So?” Dan shrugged his shoulders in
a quizzical manner. “That sounds nice.” “Yeah,” Jim agreed. “Didn’t she like
it?” “Oh, she liked the one I made for her.”
Di vainly attempted to stifle a giggle. “The only problem was that I
gave her the wrong scrapbook.” “So now you know what happened,”
Mart interjected hastily. “Not to change the subject, but which of you with a
high-definition, wide-screen TV will be hosting the annual football-fest
tomorrow evening?” Di looked sharply at her husband.
“You didn’t let me finish my story, darling. It’s rude to interrupt.” “Sorry, dear,” Mart mumbled
contritely, putting his head down in an apologetic manner. “Please commence
with your potentially humiliating account.” Di smiled sweetly. It was apparent that she
relished the task before her. “As I was saying, I made a scrapbook for Mummy
for Christmas, but I also had made one for Mart. Once both books were
finished, I wrapped them at the same time. We exchanged gifts with my parents
early on Christmas Eve, and Mart and I don’t open presents until that night,
so he hadn’t opened his scrapbook yet. When I wrapped them, I must’ve
accidentally mislabeled the tags, but I had no idea that I’d switched the
two. So Mummy got Mart’s scrapbook.” “Who cares if Mrs. Lynch got a book
full of pictures of you and Mart instead of you and your siblings?” Brian
asked with a shrug. “I don’t see what the big deal is.” “The
big deal is that I made Mart a special
scrapbook.” Di leaned closer to the middle of the table, and then added
in a hushed whisper, “A naughty
scrapbook.” As understanding slowly dawned on
Jim, Brian, and Dan, identical horrified expressions covered each of their
faces. Amused by the trio’s reactions, the girls laughed uproariously. “I’m just glad Ed didn’t see it,”
Mart muttered, his expression as far from “amusement” as it could get. His
comment only served to amuse the girls further. Di wiped a few tears from her eyes.
“Oh, well. There was nothing in those pictures that Mummy hadn’t seen before.
Of course, things were a bit different than they had been when I was ten…” Brian, by far the most
straight-laced of the Bob-Whites, shifted nervously in his seat. “How did you get pictures like that?
Surely you didn’t have them developed at the pharmacy in town?” “Of course not,” Di assured him with
a sigh of exasperation. “You can do wonders with a digital camera and a
printer, Mr. Bossy Pants. If you’d like, I could show you how to make a
scrapbook for Honey.” The striking brunette grinned saucily at her
brother-in-law. “I’m sure she’d appreciate such a gift.” “Thanks, but no thanks,” Brian
mumbled, his neck reddening. “The only thing worse than you taking pictures
of my goods would be for you to accidentally give them to Mrs. Wheeler.” “Well, if you all will excuse me for
a moment, I’m going to return this munchkin to her rightful owners before
this conversation takes an X-rated turn,” Dan told them. He stood up
carefully, balancing the sleeping form of Tiffany Delanoy which was draped
over his shoulder, and then walked across the room to find Tom or Celia. “Isn’t that the most adorable thing
you’ve ever seen?” Honey gushed as she watched Dan carry the small girl to
her parents. “Definitely,” Di agreed with a nod.
“Our Danny has such a way with children. He’ll make a wonderful father
someday.” “Yes, it’s a miracle he hasn’t been
snatched up by some lucky lady by now,” Trixie added. “Good grief,” Jim muttered. “Give a
guy a puppy or a small child to hold and all of a sudden he’s the most
eligible bachelor in town.” Trixie reached over and patted her
fiancé’s hand. “Well, the title had to be passed down to someone now that
you’re officially off the market.” “Technically,
I’m still a bachelor,” Jim pointed out, struggling to hide his grin. “Of
course, you could change my status
easily enough. I’m eager to negotiate some sort of merger in the near
future.” Honey leaned closer to Trixie, her
tawny brows raised with interest. “Yes, Trixie, we’re all quite eager to learn when the big day will be. Mother has
been salivating over bridal magazines, you know.” “Your mother drools?” Trixie inquired, feigning surprise. “Occasionally, when it involves
planning a huge social event,” Honey deadpanned. “And right now, she’s
practically dying to begin the preparations.” Trixie shot her best friend a dirty
look. “I’ll be the one who’s dying
when your mom starts dragging me to every hoity-toity event planner in “I have one word for you, sis.” Mart
paused dramatically, and then continued. “Elope.” “Yeah right, Mart,” Trixie said with
a snort. “If we run off and get married without giving Moms and Mrs. Wheeler
the wedding of their dreams, Jim and I would both be disowned.” “You don’t know what you’re getting
into,” Mart told her, shaking his head in disapproval. “Di almost had a
nervous breakdown planning our wedding. By the time we went to the rehearsal
dinner, she was ready to hop on the first plane for Vegas and ask some Elvis
impersonator to perform the ceremony.” “Oh, you’re just saying that, Mart!”
Trixie’s complexion grew ashen as she examined her brother and
sister-in-law’s faces. “He is just
saying that, isn’t he, Di?” “ ‘Nervous
breakdown’ may be too harsh a term,” Diana replied a bit too unconvincingly
to appease Trixie’s worries. “Planning our wedding was stressful, but it was all worth it in the end.” “And we’ll be there to help you,”
Honey pointed out. “Remember, we were at college in “And of course Moms and Mrs. Wheeler
will help,” Di added. “My mother, too.” Brian raised his hand. “And don’t
forget us men folk. We may not know much about all that frou-frou crap, but
we’ll lend a hand where we can. And there’s no better organizer than your big
brother Brian.” Jim reached out and clasped Trixie’s
hand. “We’ll get through this, Shamus. Besides, as long as you’re my wife, I
don’t care if the Justice of the Peace marries us in his bathroom. I only
want to wake up every morning with you beside me.” “Jim, ol’
boy, that’s real sweet, but I maintain my position,” Mart declared. “Elope.” “Mart! For the last time, we can’t
elope!” Trixie exclaimed angrily. “Now would you just be quiet!” Dan returned to the table just as
Trixie concluded her tirade. He studied his now-silent friends with wonder.
“Did I miss something important?” he inquired as he sat back down. “No,” Trixie responded brusquely.
“We were just discussing which is better: pumpkin bread or banana-nut bread.” “Banana-nut bread, of course,” Dan
replied, a twinkle in his midnight-black eyes. “Now what were you really talking about?” “Jim and Trixie’s wedding date,” Mart
cheerfully supplied. Dan drew back in surprise. “Did you
guys finally decide on a day?” “Not yet.” Trixie tossed a scowl in
the general direction of her almost-twin. “Jeesh,
Trix,” Dan said with a snort. “By the time you set the date, I’ll be married.” “Bobby
could be married…” Mart goaded. “Shut
up, Mart,” Trixie hissed through clenched teeth. “This isn’t the time or
place to make wedding plans.” “It’s just as good a time as any,” Mart
retorted. “Jim’s not getting any younger.” “I’m not ready to kick the bucket
yet, Mart,” Jim answered dryly. “I have a year or two before I can draw
Social Security.” “They’ve only been engaged two
months,” Honey commented, sensing her best friend’s apprehension. “That
really isn’t too awfully long.” Dan chuckled. “Yes, but when you
consider the fact that they’ve been in love with other since conception, it’s
been an eternity.” “So just go ahead and elope,” Mart
told them. Trixie folded her arms huffily. “Why
are you being so pushy about my
wedding, brother-of-mine?” she queried. “Are you that desperate for a piece
of cake?” “Believe it or not, I just want you
to be happy.” Mart smiled fondly at his sister. However, that smile quickly
evolved into a smirk. “But wedding cake
does sound good.” “My happiness is none of your
concern,” Trixie said with a toss of her curls. “Why don’t you just mind your
own business?” “Miss Pot, meet Mr. Kettle,” Brian
muttered under his breath. He was rewarded with an icy glare from his
sister’s direction. Honey, taking pity on her best
friend, quickly jumped to Trixie’s defense. “Trixie’s right; this isn’t any
of our business. She and Jim should discuss this privately. Besides, if Jim
isn’t in a hurry to tie the knot, then it shouldn’t matter to us.” Her hazel
gaze shifted to her brother. “Why, you aren’t impatient, are you?” Noticing
his hesitancy, she added softly, “Are you, Jim?” Jim shifted in his seat
uncomfortably. “Well, it doesn’t matter if I’m impatient or not. The wedding
can’t happen without a bride.” “So what’s the big holdup, Trix?”
Dan dared to ask. “Don’t tell me you have cold feet?” Trixie released a labored sigh. “Of
course not. We’ve just been too swamped at the agency to make any definite
plans; I never know what sort of investigation Honey and I will be doing
months in advance and when I’ll be able to take time off. Besides, the
construction crew can’t start working on our house until spring, so we
wouldn’t have anyplace to live.” “And you can’t rent an apartment
until the house is finished?” Mart asked dryly. “At this point, I’m sure Jim
would be happy sharing a brown paper box with you.” Trixie moaned and buried her face in
her hands. “Can we please quit
talking about this? I’m wearing high heels and control-top pantyhose. Isn’t
that enough torture for one evening?” Jim’s ginger brows met in a deep
groove above the bridge of his nose as he assumed a wounded expression. “I’m
not sure, but I think I should be
insulted that planning our wedding is considered ‘torture’.” “You know that’s not what I meant,”
Trixie assured him. She reached over and rubbed his arm. “Jim, you know I love you more than
anything. Once the holiday craziness is over, we’ll sit down and pick a
date.” She glanced over at the five pairs of eyes intently watching them, and
then added, “By ourselves.” Jim remained silent, his
shamrock-colored eyes focusing on his place setting. Trixie hooked her arm through Jim’s
and rested her head on his shoulder. “Please, Jim,” she whispered
plaintively. “You promised you wouldn’t push.” After the longest five seconds ever
recorded in history, Jim nodded. “You’re right; I did.” His irritated
expression softened as he looked pleadingly into her bright blue eyes. “Just
please don’t make me wait too long, okay?” “I won’t,” Trixie promised, brushing
back a thatch of red hair from Jim’s forehead. She tried to ignore the
nagging thought that she’d made that same promise a hundred times in the past
couple months. Dan cleared his throat nervously. “I
have an idea. Since it’s New Year’s Eve, how about
we each announce our plans for the coming year?” “Sure,” Brian agreed eagerly. “I
have some news that I’ve been saving.” Honey arched a delicate eyebrow. “Is
that so? I don’t know about the others, but I’m anxious to hear this juicy bit of information.” “He’ll get his chance,” Dan
interjected quickly. “But since it was my idea, I get to go first.” “Since you’re so excited, go ahead,
Dan,” Di told him. Dan grinned at his friends. “I gave
Captain Lawrence my resignation; I’m moving back to Sleepyside.” There was a collective gasp at the
Bob-Whites’ table. Mart was the first to recover. “Since
when?” he asked. “Since three hours ago,” Dan replied
sheepishly. Honey’s eyes were wide with
surprise. “What are you going to do now?” “Get another job,” was Dan’s
matter-of-fact response. “Know of any police departments that are hard up for
help?” “Are you kidding?” Trixie exclaimed
excitedly. “Spider’s told me a million times that he wishes you’d get sick of
the NYPD and come back to Sleepyside. He’ll hire you in a second!” “And if by some fluke he doesn’t,
I’m thinking about getting some security guards for the school,” Jim
mentioned. “I’d love to have you at Ten Acres.” The law enforcement officer in Dan took
over, and he focused his attention on Jim. “Is something going on at the
school?” “You can’t be too cautious,” Jim
simply said. “Okay, Doc, what’s your news?” “As of January twenty-eighth, my
residency is over,” Brian announced proudly. “I’ll be back in Sleepyside
fulltime, too.” “Oh, Brian!” Honey gasped, throwing
her arms around her boyfriend’s neck. “That’s wonderful!” “Excellent news, Bri,”
Mart congratulated. “So, will you be setting up shop in town?” “Dr. Ferris has asked me to join his
practice,” Brian explained. “He’s getting older, you know, and plans to
retire once his patients feel comfortable with me.” “And does this mean you’ll be on
call twenty-four hours a day for the school?” Jim questioned hopefully. “Sure does,” Brian answered. “And are you planning to make
another big announcement soon?” Trixie’s eyes shifted from her oldest brother
to her best friend. “An announcement involving a diamond ring, perhaps?” “Miss Pot, didn’t you just ask Mr.
Kettle to mind his own business?” Brian reminded her jokingly. “It’s different when I’m the one who’s meddling,” Trixie replied with an indignant
sniff. Brian chuckled good-naturedly.
“Funny how that works. So, does anyone else have any exciting news to share?” “I do,” Jim answered. “Well,
actually Ten Acres Academy does. The plans for the expansion have been drawn
up, and a new learning center, complete with a library and computer room,
should be completed this spring.” “The Shannequa
Montage Library?” Trixie inquired, somehow managing to keep a straight face. Jim coughed loudly. “Actually, that
would be the Montage of Learning Library, Trix.” “Why are you giving it that crazy
name?” Dan questioned skeptically. “It’s a long story,” Jim hedged.
“So, who’s next? Trixie? Honey? Belden Juniors?” Mart and Diana exchanged a look.
Mart opened his mouth to speak, but Di shook her head slightly in a
successful effort to silence her husband. “No exciting news for us,” Di
supplied quickly. “Unless you count our plans to paint the guest bathroom
next weekend, that is.” Trixie studied the pair curiously,
her detective instincts rising to the surface. Di’s next statement interrupted her
examination. “Anything new on the horizon for the
Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency?” “We just wrapped up a big case,”
Honey told them proudly. “And we’ve got a few small cases to tide us over for
a while.” “And thank goodness, none of them
involve Ms. Martin filing a missing persons report for her cat, Mr. Winky,” Trixie added with a giggle, referring to one of
the agency’s “infamous” first cases. “Otherwise, life is pretty boring,”
Honey commented. She glanced shyly at Brian, hooking her arm through his.
“However, I’m hoping things will get more exciting once Brian moves back to
town.” “That’s Brian, Mr. Excitement,” Mart
said with a wink. “With all the Bob-Whites back in Sleepyside, it’ll be just
like old times. Why, we’ll have to clean up the old clubhouse and start
having meetings again.” Honey’s hazel eyes sparkled with
excitement. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a fundraiser, just like we used to?
I haven’t had that much fun in ages.” “Maybe we could raise some money for
the school?” Dan suggested. “We could use it to take the kids on a trip.” “Are you volunteering to chaperone?”
Jim inquired jokingly. Dan shrugged his shoulders. “If you
need me to. You know I’ve got a soft spot for troubled kids. Helping out at
the school was one of the reasons I always wanted to come back home.” “That’ll be great, Dan,” Jim told
him with a warm smile. “It sounds like this year is going
to be full of surprises,” Di said. Mart peeked at his watch. “Well,
it’s not time for the ball to drop yet. We still have a little over an hour.” “Gives me just enough time to scope
out a pretty girl to kiss at the stroke of Honey smiled as she watched their
single friend’s departure. Once he had gotten lost in the crowded ballroom,
she poked Brian with her elbow. “I sure wish somebody would ask me to dance.” “Want me to ask that guy over there
in the powder-blue seventies tux if he thinks you’re hot?” Brian offered. He
grimaced as Honey punched his arm. “Oh! You wanted me to ask you!” “Correction.” Honey folded her arms
huffily. However, the twinkle in her wide, amber-colored eyes belied her
angry farce. “I used to want you to
ask me to dance, until a minute ago. Now, I’d rather dance with Seventies
Man.” “Please?” Brian cajoled contritely.
“They’re playing our song.” As hard as she tried, Honey could
not keep a smile from tugging at her lips. “ ‘Rudolph
the Red-nosed Reindeer’ is our
song?” In spite of the pressure, Brian
didn’t bat an eye. “Of course it is. Don’t you remember when we decided
that?” “I must’ve been asleep during that
discussion,” Honey responded with a laugh. She stood up and held out her hand
to her boyfriend. “But I’ll take your word for it. C’mon, Rudy, let’s hit the
dance floor.” “How about we show those amateurs
the right way to waltz?” Mart asked Diana, putting an arm around her slender
shoulders. A sly smile parted Di’s full lips.
“Actually Mart, I was thinking that it was a shame that Mummy is over there
talking instead of dancing. She’s so light on her feet, you know. And
although poor Daddy tries to keep up with her, he steps on her toes more than
he does the floor. He’s not nearly as nimble as you are, love.” “Why do I have the feeling that the
other shoe is about to drop?” Mart inquired skeptically. Di’s
smile turned coy as she continued. “Mummy
always enjoys dancing with you so
much, sweetheart, so could you please ask her? Just for a few songs…” “I suppose I could,” Mart answered a bit hesitantly. “But you’ll cut in before
the clock strikes “Of course, darling.” Di cupped her
husband’s rugged cheek, caressing his jaw line with her thumb. “ ‘Cuz I wouldn’t want to have to kiss your mom when
it’s officially the New Year,” Mart continued, his blue eyes pleading. “Not
that she’s not a lovely lady, but your dad’s kind of gargantuan, and if he
sits one me—” Di leaned closer to him, allowing
her ample cleavage to brush against his arm. “I definitely want to be kissing
you at “What if I want to ring it in improperly?” Mart inquired with a
devilish smile. “Your wish is my command,” Di
purred, fluttering her thick, sooty lashes flirtatiously. A loud clearing of the throat coming
from Trixie’s general vicinity caused the two lovers to cease their
conversation. “Excuse me, but could you two please stop with the sexual
innuendos?” Trixie wrinkled her nose in disgust. “It doesn’t take a rocket
scientist to figure out what you’re really implying, and frankly, your
euphemisms are making me kind of queasy.” Mart stood up and puffed out his
chest. “I’m going, but for the record, it isn’t because you asked me to; I’m
merely consenting to my bewitching bride’s request to ‘trip the light
fantastic’ with her beauteous maternal forebear.” He paused his oration long
enough to blow a kiss at his wife. “I’ll ‘innuendo’ with you later.” And with
a gallant bow, he was off to find Carolyn Lynch. “Good grief,” Trixie groaned. “You
two are disgusting. You make rabbits look celibate.” “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried
it,” Di said with a wink. Jim suddenly developed a nasty
cough. “I’m still here, Di,” he managed between hacks. “And do I need to
remind you that I’m easily embarrassed when you girls start talking about
mushy stuff?” “Then go away,” Di retorted. Her
bottom lip distended in a pretty pout. “Seriously, why don’t you go over
there and rescue your poor mother? She’s trapped at that table with your
father and his business associates, and she looks like she’s ready to die
from boredom.” “If I didn’t know better, I’d think
you were trying to get rid of me,” Jim commented with a raise of his ginger
brows. “Of course I’m trying to get rid of
you,” Diana openly admitted. “I already told you to go away. What more do you
need to hear? Now be a good boy and entertain your mother before I go into intimate
details about my last menstrual cycle.” Jim’s brows immediately went
downward. “You wouldn’t.” “Try me,” Di challenged, grinning
wickedly. “I’m quite willing to discuss this topic at length, if I have to.
Flow, consistency, longevity, mood swings, cramps—” “You win!” Jim hopped up from the
table, his freckled hands covering his delicate ears. “Once I’m out of
hearing range, you may proceed with your discussion of your tampons with
wings.” “Don’t be gone too long,” Trixie
told him as he made his escape. “That was easy enough,” Di stated
smugly. Trixie giggled. “I’ll have to
remember that trick. It may come in handy someday.” “The key is not to overuse it,” Di
instructed. “Menstrual warfare is a powerful weapon, and should be wielded
wisely. It is only to be used in life and death situations.” “Such as?” “Such as when you’re in dire need of
a Butterfinger Blizzard from Dairy Queen at “You’re positively evil. And I love
you for it.” Trixie looked at her sister-in-law with renewed respect. “I just
have one more question.” “Shoot.” “Why were you so anxious to get rid
of everyone?” Trixie queried. Di assumed her most angelic
expression. “I just thought it would be fun to have a little girl talk with
my favorite sister-in-law,” she answered, flipping her blue-black hair off
her shoulders. “Okay,” Trixie replied gamely. “What
do you want to talk about?” “Oh, I don’t know,” Di said in an offhand
manner. “The usual stuff, I suppose. The latest gossip, the New Year’s
shindig at Crabapple Farm tomorrow, why you won’t decide on a wedding date…” “A-ha!” Trixie exclaimed, her right
index finger pointed upward in triumph. “I knew you were up to something!” “Don’t even try to change the
subject, missy,” Di ordered sternly. “Just answer the question.” Trixie scowled at her sister-in-law.
“Jane Morgan’s having an affair with her boss, the
shindig should be fun, and none of your business. Does that take care of
everything?” “Nice try, Trixie, but
unfortunately, I learned how to meddle from the master.” Di paused briefly,
and then added, “You.” With a defiant squaring of her
shoulders, Trixie turned her face the other way so she wouldn’t have to look
Diana in the eye. “You can’t keep avoiding this topic
forever, you know,” Di continued. “Sooner or later, you’re going to have to make a decision, Trix. Unless
you plan on stringing Jim along forever, that is.” With a gasp, Trixie whipped her head
back around to glare at Di. “I am not
stringing him along.” “Then why haven’t you picked a
date?” Di challenged. “You know how much being married and having a family of
his own means to Jim.” “Jim doe—” “Don’t expect me to believe that
crap about Jim not being anxious,” Di interrupted with a shake of her head.
“If you told Jim you wanted to get married tomorrow, he’d walk barefoot up a
mountain of broken glass all the way to the chapel, carrying you in his arms.
Why don’t you give the guy a break?” Trixie released a labored sigh and
rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Surely you aren’t procrastinating
because you don’t want to plan the wedding?” Di asked,
one ebony brow arched inquisitively. “Of course not,” Trixie responded
wearily. “I mean, I’m not clicking my heels at the prospect of handling all
those annoying details, but I’ll deal with it. Besides, some fancy-schmancy wedding planner will take care of most it. After
the hectic holiday season is over, we’ll work something out.” “I know you’re just using that
‘hectic holiday’ junk as an excuse,” Di stated evenly. “Once New Year’s is
over, there’ll be Valentine’s Day. After that, it’ll be Groundhog Day, then
Easter, and then Daylight Saving’s time. Eventually you’re going to run out
of special occasions.” Trixie remained silent, allowing her
scowl to do her talking for her. Di carefully studied her friend
through narrowed eyes. “I certainly hope you’re not doing this to get back at
Jim for getting engaged to Amanda.” “I can’t believe you’d say that, Diana
Belden!” Trixie hissed angrily. “Do you think I’m a cold-hearted wench?” “I don’t know what to think,” Di said honestly, her hands raised in
resignation. “There has to be some
reason you’ve refused to broach the subject. You may be the one with the private
investigator’s license, but I’m a
pretty good detective, too, when it comes to matters of the heart.” Trixie stared down at her hands,
wishing her sister-in-law wasn’t so perceptive. She hoped if she waited long
enough, Diana would give up and change the subject. However, she had no such
luck; Di’s violet gaze remained firmly fixed upon her, a sure sign that she
would stubbornly wait for Trixie’s response as long as it took. After a long pause, Trixie finally
mumbled, “You wouldn’t understand.” “You don’t know that,” Di gently
assured her. “And even if I don’t understand, I can still listen.” Trixie looked up, her china blue
eyes brimming with unshed tears. “What would you understand about being insecure, Miss Sleepyside
Junior-Senior Homecoming Queen?” Di laughed bitterly. “Trixie, I
fight insecurities every day of my life.” Trixie snorted in disbelief. “Yeah,
right. Why would you be insecure?
You had everything: your family was loaded, you were the prettiest girl in
town, all the boys were ga-ga
about you, especially Mart...” Diana’s expression grew somber as
her mind traveled to a time in the not-so-distant past. “That stuff didn’t
help me feel more confident, Trixie. It only made me feel more pressured to
be perfect. Why do you think I screwed up in all those plays I did in
school?” “I just thought you forgot your
lines,” Trixie admitted, her tone expressing mild surprise. “I had no idea
you were self-conscious.” “Well, I was,” Di told her. “I knew
that everyone believed I got the leads in all the school plays because of my
looks.” “Not everyone.” Trixie reached over
and squeezed Di’s hand. “All right, everyone but the Bob-Whites,” Di amended with
a hint of a snort. “You know that’s what Jane Morgan and all her friends
said.” Trixie merely smiled in response. “See, deep down you know I’m right.” Di’s lips split into a smile of her own,
but strangely it wasn’t bitter; she looked positively contented. “But I
finally got to the point where their opinions didn’t matter so much. I
learned to like myself.” “How were you able to do that?”
Trixie inquired, her voice full of wonder. “The love of a good man.” Di searched across the crowded room until
her gaze fell upon her husband. Without saying a word, her affectionate
expression spoke multitudes. “Mart encouraged me to start seeing myself
through his eyes. When I tried it, I actually liked what I saw.” “So Mart built up your self-esteem?” Diana shrugged. “He helped, but
gaining more confidence was something that I had to do myself; Mart only
started the process. I finally decided if a wonderful man like Mart worshiped
the ground I walked on, I had to have something
going for me.” “You have a lot going for you, Di,” Trixie said with a snicker. “And so do you, my friend,” Di
countered, her voice quiet but sure. When Trixie remained silent, Di
continued. “You know, Trix, Jim could have any woman he wanted. He’s
handsome, rich, and a nice guy to boot. You weren’t exaggerating earlier when
you called him Sleepyside’s Most Eligible Bachelor; he was one of the country’s most eligible bachelors
before he got engaged.” “I know all that,” Trixie confirmed,
her tone sharp. “He deserves some gorgeous model-type, not a short, stubby,
clumsy detective.” “He was engaged to a gorgeous
model-type,” Di reminded her gently, “and he dumped her for the short, stubby
detective.” Trixie frowned grumpily. “You forgot
clumsy.” “Regardless, if you’re clumsy or
not,” Di hedged with a cheeky grin, “he dumped Amanda and chose you.” She
leaned closer to her sister-in-law, and added in a fervent whisper, “He chose you, Trix. Don’t you know how much he
loves you?” “Sort of,” Trixie whispered in her
quietest voice. Realization
finally dawned upon Diana. “Is this why you haven’t set a wedding day?” Trixie sighed heavily as she wiped a
tear that was trickling down her cheek. “No! I know Jim loves me. It’s just
that…” She groaned in frustration, clutching a fistful of sandy curls in her
right hand. “Never mind. I tried to talk to Honey about this and she didn’t
understand, so you probably won’t either.” “Try me.” Di’s kind eyes beseeched
Trixie to share her burden. Finding comfort in those violet
orbs, Trixie relented. “I’m feeling a lot of pressure about the wedding,” she
whispered. “What kind of pressure?” Di
prompted. “Surely Jim isn’t pre—” “It’s not Jim that’s pressuring me,”
Trixie assured with a shake of her head. “It’s being Jim’s wife.” Di furrowed her brow inquisitively.
“What do you mean by that?” After Trixie gulped back the lump
that had risen in her throat, she choked out, “The truth is, Di, that I’m
scared to death of embarrassing Jim. You know our wedding will be attended by
every gossip columnist in “Oh, Trixie.” Di drew back in surprise,
her almond-shaped eyes filled with sympathy. “Why would you worry about a
thing like that?” Trixie snorted loudly. “If you
haven’t noticed, Di, I have a slight problem with staying upright, especially
when I’m all gussied up. On a normal day, I trip over air, but put a dress on
me and I’m guaranteed to fall flat on my face without even moving my feet. I
have visions of wiping out the whole front row on the groom’s side as I
plunge headfirst up the aisle. Someone will probably be videotaping, and they’ll
send it to ‘ “Oh, Trixie,” Di repeated sadly. “Is
this why you’ve been acting so strangely about the wedding?” Trixie nodded glumly. “I’d rather
die than humiliate Jim.” “Sweetie, he wouldn’t care if you
wore a chicken suit and did somersaults up the aisle,” Di said with a laugh.
“Of course, that might guarantee
you a spot on “That’s not funny,” Trixie
interrupted, failing to hide a smile. “I could cause serious problems by
simply doing what I do best… leaving a path of utter destruction behind me.” “Trixie, even if you do fall and land in the lap of one of
Mrs. Wheeler’s snooty English relatives, so what? It won’t be the end of the
world.” “Don’t you know how serious this is,
Di?” Trixie protested. “What if Jim eventually gets sick of me always putting
my foot in my mouth instead of keeping it on the ground where it belongs?
What if he decides that he doesn’t love me anymore?” She halted her speech
momentarily to wipe another tear, and then added in a barely audible voice,
“What if he decides that he should’ve married Amanda instead of me?” |
