Chapter 23
(originally posted June 27, 2009 – HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HEATHER!)

“Music is the key to the female heart.”
Johann G. Seume

After the ceremony, the wedding party and the family of the bride and groom trooped up to the Manor House gardens for photographs while their guests dug into the appetizers and waited for their return.  After numerous photos that included the bridesmaids and groomsmen, Trixie’s family, Bill Regan and Edwin Maypenny, the photographer requested time with just Trixie and Dan, leaving the rest of them to return to the lake, much to the relief of Mart’s stomach. 

He was just finishing up his second helping of shrimp salad when he saw the bride and groom coming down the hill toward the lake.  As they neared, he stood on the stage near the microphone and gently struck his fork against his water glass.  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced with a broad smile splashed across his freckled face.  “Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Mangan.”

The crowd clapped and cheered as Trixie and Dan came to the dance floor.  Mart hemmed and hawed for a moment at the microphone in jest.  “I have something here the groom asked me to read for his bride before they begin their first dance ... if I can just put my hands on it.”  He reached into the left pocket of his jacket and mumbled, “No, that’s where I kept the rings.  You got those, right?”

Trixie and Dan held up their hands and let the sunlight glint off their matching, intertwined wedding bands.

Pulling a scrap of paper out of his right pants pocket, Mart glanced at it and said, “Oops, that’s my grocery list.”  He dug in again and this time pulled out and unfurled a long strip of paper.  “No, that’s my best man speech.”

Everybody groaned and laughed, and Uncle Andrew yelled out, “Get on with it, you clown!”

Finally, Mart pulled an index card from his inside pocket, studied it carefully, and said, “Oh yeah, here it is.”  Clearing his throat and looking as serious as he could manage, he caught his sister’s eye and read, “‘My dearest Trixie’.”  He stopped and scanned the crowd.  “You understand this is from Dan, right?  Not me.”

Another ripple of laughter and Mart began again, “‘My dearest Trixie, never forget … just how much … I love you.’”  Carefully, he tucked the card back into his pocket and as Trixie tilted her head and smiled curiously at her husband, Mart motioned the DJ to start the song for their first dance, which was not—as they had agreed—“For Your Eyes Only”, but Barry Manilow’s “Can’t Smile Without You”.

With a delighted giggle, Trixie threw her arms around Dan’s neck and kissed him soundly.  “I do love you so very much,” she told him.

“And I love you, despite the fact that you love Barry.”

“Come on, admit it,” Trixie teased.  “You like Barry.  Just a little bit.” 

Dan made a face and shook his head, but as he pulled Trixie close and pressed his cheek against her hair, she heard him singing along with the music as they danced.  Stifling a giggle, she pressed herself closer to him and laid her head on his chest so she could feel his heartbeat.

“A happy marriage is a long conversation which always seems too short.”
Andre Maurois

Honey’s romantic side was doing battle with the inquisitive desire to solve a mystery that her best friend had instilled in her so many years ago.  It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in hearing the story of how Rose Walker and her husband fell in love.  It was just that her questions were intended to lead her to a final answer that was taking a long time arriving.

“Arnie proposed to me the day he met me,” Rose was saying.  “Of course, he was as drunk as a skunk at the time.”

Honey giggled.  “The day you met?”

“He was in New York on a weekend furlough from the Navy.  I was working at what my roommate and I told our parents was a ‘country club’ when actually it was a seedy bar that happened to have a jukebox and about eight square feet of dance floor.”

“Did you dance with Arnie?”

“All night long.  I’m lucky I didn’t lose my job.  When he proposed, I wrote down my address on a cocktail napkin and told him if he could still remember my name the next morning, I’d consider it.”

“Did he show up?” Brian asked.  “And more importantly, did he know your name?”

Rose flushed, her smile making her look like a young girl falling in love all over again.  “He came to my apartment the next afternoon.  He had showered and shaved and put on some clean clothes.  He tipped his hat and called me ‘Miss’.”  Turning to her husband with an affectionate glance, she continued, “I thought he had forgotten my name.”

Arnold Walker snorted derisively.  “As if I could forget.  She was engraved on my heart.”

“What happened next?” Honey asked, a dreamy smile on her face.

“He got down on one knee and said, ‘Rose, will you marry me?’  When I asked him if he remembered my last name, he said, ‘What does it matter?  It’ll be Walker soon.’”

Honey’s eyes widened.  “You got married the day after you met?”

Adamantly, Rose replied, “Of course not!”

“It was the day after that,” Arnie put in helpfully, causing his wife to blush again.

“Arnie begged me to marry him before he left port, but I was too stubborn to say yes to his hurried proposal.  By the time I changed my mind and raced to the pier the next day, his ship was already halfway out to sea.”

Honey gasped, her hand to her mouth, as if she didn’t know this story must have a happy ending.

“Lucky for her, I figured she’d come to her senses,” Arnie interjected, countering his gruff voice with the soft touch of his hand on the back of his wife’s hand.  “I was able to finagle a spot on a dinghy heading out to meet the ship.  Rosie arrived just in time to ride out with me.”

Smiling brightly, Rose continued the story.  “We were married on that awful tugboat by this half-drunken captain who smelled like stagnant bilge water and belched after every other sentence he uttered.  I didn’t even get a wedding night or a honeymoon until three months later.”  Giving her husband a peck on the cheek, she concluded, “But I got Arnie for forty-two years and counting.”

“And here’s to forty-two more,” Arnold concurred as he returned his wife’s gentle kiss.

Honey’s soft side was starting to win the battle.  It shoved aside her clever segue about “spontaneous weddings” and responded instead with, “What a beautiful story!”  Her eyes were watery as she reached behind her, knowing Brian would have a handkerchief ready and waiting.

“Please forgive my wife,” he teased.  “She’s tenderhearted, romantic, and pregnant—a deadly combination.”  He gave her a kiss on the top of her head as he stood.  “Would you like something to drink, sweetheart?”

She nodded as she dabbed her tears away, and Brian and Arnold left together to get refreshments for their wives.  She adored love stories and was dying to ask Rose more, but her investigative nature, having remained as patient as it could for as long as it could, wouldn’t tolerate any more smush.  She could feel it poking at her shamelessly, insisting she get to the point.

“So, how do you two know Dan and Trixie?”

“How on earth are you ever going to explain in terms of chemistry and physics
so important a biological phenomenon as first love?”
Albert Einstein

“You know you’ll always be my first love,” Trixie said softly as they swayed gently to the music.

Jim grinned down at her.  “Great.  Now I feel guilty.”

“Why?” Trixie asked, her blue eyes wide.

“Because you weren’t my first love.”

“Is that so?” Trixie huffed, a smile curling up the corners of her mouth.  “Who was?  And so help me, if you say Dot Murray...”

Jim laughed and held her a little closer.  “Not at all.  It was before I even moved to Sleepyside.”

Trixie stared at him a moment, waiting, but he didn’t seem inclined to offer any more information.  “Well, come on,” she urged, “tell me.”

“Her name was Marcia and she had long, silky blond hair, almost to her waist.  It would swish back and forth just like spun gold when she walked.”  He seemed a little starry-eyed at the memory.

“Wait a minute … Marcia Brady?”

Jim made a face at her.  “No, not Marcia Brady.  A real person.”

“Just checking,” she replied with an impish grin.

“Just sassing me is what you’re doing.  I think I’ll go over to Dan, offer him my congratulations, and a ‘Good Luck!’ on top of it.”

Trixie giggled.  “So tell me all about Marcia not-Brady, the great love of your life.”

Jim suppressed a sigh.  You’ll always be the great love of my life, Trixie.  “She lived down the block from me.”

Trixie rolled her eyes.  “That’s insightful.”

“Well, what do you want to know?”

“Did you ever go out on a date with her?”

“Not exactly,” Jim hedged.

“Not exactly?  What does that mean?”

“Well, she came to our house every third or fourth weekend, but we didn’t technically go out on a date.”

Trixie snorted.  “There’s a surprise.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How long were you head over heels for me before you finally got up the courage to ask me on a date?  One minute I’m getting orchids and bracelets and then I sit around for two years waiting for you to ask me out on a real date.”

“Trixie, you were only fourteen and you have two older brothers.”

She made a face at him.  “Brian and Mart aren’t like that, and you know it.  Besides, it’s not like you were some letch from the next town over or something.  We were all friends.  My brother was dating your sister, for crying out loud!  He’s older than you and Honey is younger than me!”

Jim shrugged.  He couldn’t explain the multitude of ways he felt intimidated and shy around Trixie the woman as opposed to Trixie his tomboy friend, Trixie the girl next door, Trixie his childhood crush.

“So, why didn’t you ask Marcia out?”

“Well,” he replied slowly, trying to keep his mischievous grin at bay.  “It would’ve been kind of awkward.”

“Why?”

“She was fifteen and I was six, and she was my babysitter.”

She burst out into the musical laughter that always made his heart swell in his chest.

“And I was madly in love with her,” he asserted.  “She’d fling that hair over her shoulder and her green eyes would twinkle like the stars and I was flat out enamored.”

“Whatever became of her?”

“I have no idea.  Why?  Are you suggesting I look her up?”

“Why not?” Trixie teased.

“Maybe I will someday.  Maybe I will.”

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.”
Rhett Butler, Gone With the Wind

“Are your lips numb?”

“I feel like I’ve been playing the trumpet for ten hours straight.”

Dan chuckled, brushing his thumb across his wife’s swollen lips.  “Well, you definitely have that ‘thoroughly kissed’ look about you, that’s for sure.”

“I think having actual glassware for the reception wasn’t a great call.”  It sounded like a caustic complaint, but since she wasn’t able to rein in her smile, it wasn’t having much effect.  “When we decided on an outdoor reception, we should’ve insisted on plastic.  Then they couldn’t—”  She was interrupted by yet another delicate tinkling of silverware on crystal.  Laughing resignedly, she finished, “—keep doing that.”

She and Dan both turned to glare teasingly at Diana, who merrily waved her spoon and urged them to follow through on the timeworn tradition.

“I don’t know why we’re complaining, exactly,” Dan said as he leaned down to plant another kiss on his wife’s waiting mouth.  She slid one arm up around his neck and pulled herself closer to him, deepening the kiss and enjoying it as if it was their very first.

It wasn’t even close.

Since the reception had begun, all the Bob-Whites Plus had kept up a steady sonata of forks, spoons, and knives against their glasses, almost as if they had worked out a schedule the evening before. 

Mart and Tad took great delight in setting off what Mart called their “carillon canzonet” whenever Dan and Trixie happened to be apart.  Dan’s head would snap up like Pavlov’s dog as he scanned the crowd for his bride.  And neither Mart nor Tad would settle for the bride or groom merely blowing kisses.  They’d simply continue clinking away until Dan and Trixie came together and gave each other a proper kiss.

Diana, Sally and Honey all took the romantic approach.  They would subtly clink on their glasses whenever they saw their blissfully wed friends in a quiet moment—talking, dancing, sharing a piece of wedding cake or a glass of champagne.  They’d watch approvingly as Trixie and Dan joined in a kiss, then sought out their beaus so they could enjoy a kiss of their own as well.

Brian and Jim—overworked, overstressed, and enjoying a long overdue day of relaxation—played it randomly, or so it seemed.  If they hadn’t heard glasses clinking in a while, they’d fill in for whomever was slacking on the job, usually not even looking for or at the Mangans, but continuing their conversations with family and friends or casually taking another bite of whatever they happened to be eating.  Their nonchalance didn’t fool Trixie or Dan one bit, especially after they spotted Jim almost frantically signaling Brian from across the dance floor.  Brian hastily grabbed the nearest piece of silverware he could find and knocked it against his beer bottle.  It looked suspiciously like he had almost missed his cue, and Dan and Trixie had exchanged an affectionate eyeroll before dutifully kissing yet again.

Now Trixie somewhat reluctantly broke off their extended kiss and with eyes twinkling grumbled, “That ought to satisfy them for a few minutes, at least.”

“Wow, you’re a really good kisser,” Dan replied in feigned awe, his dark eyes suitably wide.  “Who taught you to kiss like that?”

“Tad Webster,” Trixie deadpanned.  They both burst into laughter and Trixie quickly added, “I’m just kidding.  Diana and I used to practice when we were ten or eleven.”

Dan’s eyebrows shot up in interest.  “Really?”

“Not on each other, pervert,” Trixie said with a giggle.  As Dan leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers, another pealing of silver on crystal rang in their ears.  “I’m going to be hearing that sound in my sleep, you know.”

“Then I guess I’ll be ready to be kissed in my sleep.”

“To love and win is the best thing. To love and lose, the next best.”
William M. Thackeray

“So, who’s next?” Dan asked, as he walked up to Jim with two beers in hand, one of which he handed to his friend.

“Next to...?”

“Get married, of course.  Trixie and I are going to do the whole bouquet/garter thing soon.  We need to know who to aim for.  Renee?”

Jim hastily took a couple hard gulps of his beer before answering, “Come on, Dan, we haven’t been together all that long.”

“Well, Mart’s determined to finish school first, so it won’t be him and Sally.  And Tad’s apparently trying to claim your vacated title of ‘Slowest Courtship on the Planet’, so it won’t be him and Di either.”

Jim grimaced.  “Maybe I’d better tell him to step it up before he loses his special girl to someone else.”  He instantly regretted the words and darted a glance at Dan to see if he was angry.

But Dan was too blissfully wed to be upset.  He simply threw his arm around Jim’s shoulders and said, “No hard feelings?”

If he was offering his forgiveness for the rude comment sent his way or asking forgiveness for stealing Trixie’s heart, Jim wasn’t sure, but he made a mental note to make this his last beer.  He grinned at Dan and changed the subject.  “How about Regan?”

“Uncle Bill?”  Dan’s eyebrows shot up into his disheveled hairline.  “The guy’s a monk, Jim.”

“You’ve seriously never heard him talk about any girlfriends?”

“Not since Joan, and none before her either.”

“Do you think he’s...?”

Dan reddened.  “Hell, I’m not asking him that!  And for the record, I don’t think so.”

“Don’t think what?”  Hallie asked as she joined the two tall, dashing men, a glass of champagne in her hand.

“Nothing,” Dan mumbled, still red in the face.

“Dan and I were simply discussing the possibility of Regan being ... gay.”

Hallie arched an eyebrow at Jim.  “Are you drunk?”

Jim had to think carefully before replying, “No.”  Realizing that he probably wasn’t far off it though, he set the half-empty beer bottle on the nearest table, slapped his hands against each other and spread them apart, declaring himself done with alcohol for the remainder of the reception.

“You don’t think it’s a possibility?” Dan asked Hallie warily.  “I mean, the only woman I’ve ever heard him mention was Joan Stinson.”

Hallie shrugged. “Maybe his heart’s irrevocably broken.  But he’s not gay, I assure you.”

Both men looked at her in shocked suspicion.

“No!” Hallie drawled.  “I don’t have personal, intimate knowledge of this.  It’s just that ... well, for god’s sake, look at him!”

Jim said pointedly, “Just because a man is good-looking doesn’t mean he’s straight.”

“I don’t mean his good looks or his...”  She gazed over at the rugged man, who was dancing with Helen Belden. “...his...”

“His what, Hal?” Dan asked, winking at Jim.  “His cowboy boots?”

Hallie grinned wickedly at Dan.  “Let’s just say he’s got a great seat ... on a horse, of course.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Jim responded.  “And you’re wondering how he rides, aren’t you?”

Hallie blushed as the two men laughed at her expense.

“Wouldn’t she be just crushed if Uncle Bill turned out to be as gay as an Easter bonnet?” Dan asked in an effeminate voice.

“He’s not,” Hallie insisted, as the DJ called out a ladies’ choice dance, “and I’ll prove it.”  She set down her champagne flute and strode off determinedly toward Regan and her aunt.

“Hallie!” Dan squeaked as he tried to grab her arm and pull her back but missed.  “If she comes right out and asks him, I’ll never be able to show my face in Sleepyside again,” he groaned.

They watched as Hallie politely cut in on the dancing couple.  Helen graciously stepped aside and sank down into a chair, fanning her flushed face.

“You think that’s from the heat?” Dan asked.

Jim snickered back, “She’s been happily married for twenty-five years.  You wouldn’t want Trixie getting all flushed over a redheaded stud in a tux, would you?”

Before Dan could answer, Joanne Darnell, fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly, came up to him and asked, “So, can I get a dance with tall, dark and taken?”

“How about tall, redheaded and single?” Jim asked hastily, darting a glance past Dan at another approaching woman.  He quickly took Jo into his arms and spun them out to the dance floor, leaving Dan at Aunt Alicia’s mercy, much to his dismay.

He glared at Jim over her out-of-style bouffant and Jim grinned wickedly back.  He winked at Dan to let him know everything was okay between them and gave thanks yet again for having such good friends in his life.

“There are no secrets better kept than the secrets that everybody guesses.”
George Bernard Shaw

Trixie took Diana’s and Honey’s hands in hers.  “I just want to thank you two for making my wedding day the most magical, beautiful, perfectly perfect wedding day a girl could ever ask for.”

Diana darted a furtive glance at Honey before asking, “Even better than your first wedding day?”

Trixie stammered, “Wha—what are you—what’re you talking about?”

Diana merely smiled knowingly at her and waited for her friend to confess.

“Mart told you!”  It wasn’t a question.  It was obviously her big mouth almost twin who had spilled the beans.

“Actually, Tad told me.”

“How did Tad find out?” Trixie gasped.

“Mart told him,” Diana answered matter-of-factly.

Honey laughed gaily, and Trixie noticed she didn’t seem at all surprised by the revelation that her best friend had been keeping such a monumental secret from her.  “Mart told you too?” Trixie’s eyes glared fiercely as she scanned the crowd for her brother.  “I’ll kill him!”

“Mart didn’t tell me,” Honey gasped out as she tried to quell her laughter.

“Then who did?  Don’t tell me Dan told you!”

“No.  I do still have investigative skills, you know.  Yesterday at the rehearsal dinner, when I asked how you and Dan knew the Walkers, you told me Rose worked at the law firm in Albany with you when you were in college, but Dan told me that the Walkers lived in your building in the city.”  She giggled in delight as Trixie turned red with embarrassment.  “So when the reception started, I asked the Walkers how they knew you, and they told me this charming story of a little chapel in Atlantic City with a preacher nobody could understand.”

Trixie slumped in her chair, trying to decide if she should fume, laugh, or cry.  Scowling fondly at her best friend she muttered, “Well, if you know, then I guess that means Brian knows too.”

“He’s my husband, Trixie,” Honey said airily, even as her cheeks turned slightly pink.  “We don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“And you can’t keep a secret anyway.  So, who else did you tell?”

Honey flushed more deeply under Trixie’s unrelenting gaze.  Finally, she threw up her hands and squealed, “I can’t be expected to keep a secret from my only brother, can I?”

“Great!” Trixie wailed.  “So Jim knows, too?”

“To be fair ... he already knew,” Honey replied.

“How?  Never mind, I’m betting it was Mart.  Do you think he told our parents, too?”

“No, I’m sure he didn’t tell Moms and Dad,” Honey insisted.  But when Trixie breathed a sigh of relief, she added, “I think Bobby told them.”

“Bobby knows?”

“Bobby knows what?” her younger brother asked, coming up behind them with a plate containing an extremely large slice of the wedding cake.

Trixie turned on him, irritated that her “little” brother now towered over her, when she really wanted to turn him over her knee and spank him.  “You told Moms and Dad that Dan and I were already married?  And how did you find out, anyway?”

With a shrug Bobby said, “Hey, I learned to eavesdrop—that is, investigate—from the best.”  He shoveled a heaping forkful of cake into his mouth and continued in a garbled voice, “What’s the big deal, sis?  It’s not like I told them you married Diana, for Pete’s sake.”

Diana nearly spit out her mouthful of champagne and burst into laughter as Trixie muttered, “Maybe you should’ve told them Di and I got married.  Then the truth about me and Dan would actually be welcome news.”

“You and Diana are getting married?” Hallie asked as she came in on the middle of the conversation.  “Now I’ve heard everything.  First Regan, and now you and Di?”

“First of all, not me and Di,” Trixie insisted as Diana choked on her champagne again.  “I’m quite happy with the dark-haired babe I already have.  Second of all, who said Regan was gay?”

“Your dark-haired babe and her brother,” she answered, nodding in Honey’s direction.

“Uh-huh,” Honey said, shaking her head adamantly.  “I can’t believe he’s gay.”

“Who’s gay?” Nick asked as he joined the group, handing Diana and Honey each a dish of wedding cake.  “Besides me, I mean?”

“Ooh, Nick will know!” Diana said excitedly.

“Know what?”  He looked at each woman in turn and then Bobby, who rolled his eyes and went off in search of more cake.

“Can you tell if a man is ... you know?” Hallie asked.

“You mean, do I have gaydar?” Nick asked casually.  “Yeah, pretty much.  Why?  Who do you think is gay?”

Hallie nodded in Regan’s direction.  Nick snorted disdainfully.  “Bill Regan?  Please.”  When he heard the girls all breathe an unconscious sigh of relief, he chuckled.  “Two of you are happily married.  You,” he said, jabbing a finger in Trixie’s direction, “to the aforementioned hunk’s nephew, for crying out loud!”

Trixie wrinkled her nose at him.  “Doesn’t mean I can’t look.”

“Well, if all you’re doing is looking...”  Nick struck a dashing gigolo pose and made come hither eyes at the girls and they all burst into laughter.

“Nicholas, you’re mine,” Diana said possessively.  “I already warned them to keep their paws off you.”

Trixie stood up and smoothed out her dress.  “Well, I need to get my paws on my husband, so we can go tell Moms and Dad all about the secret wedding before anybody else finds out.”  She stopped short and snuck a glance at Nick.

He waved her off.  “I already knew.”

Trixie rolled her eyes heavenward as if asking for clemency before she asked Nick, “Mart?”

“No, Di told me.”

“Diana!”

“Well, I didn’t think it was a secret after the wedding.”

In exasperation, Trixie glared at Hallie and asked, “And did Miss Lynch tell you, too?  You don’t look very shocked either.”

“Cousin dear, nothing you do shocks me.  Anyway, Regan told me as we were walking down the aisle before the wedding.  I commented that Dan didn’t look nervous at all, and he was generous enough to tell me why.”

“I can’t believe everybody knew … except Moms and Dad, apparently.”  She scanned the area, spotting Dan near the edge of the dance floor talking to Mart and Sally.  “Well, time to bite the bullet.  The rest of you can fight over Nick,” she called over her shoulder as she hurried to join her husband.

“Hallie, why don’t you dance with Nick?” Honey suggested.

“Please do, Hal,” Diana encouraged.  “He dances like a dream.”

“Yes, yes, it’s true,” Nick agreed with a pronounced lisp.  “All gay men dance divinely.  We also have a great fashion sense and host the most mah-velous Academy Awards parties evah!”

Hallie let out a throaty burst of laughter as she took Nick’s hand and they moved to the dance floor.

As they waltzed away, Honey sighed dreamily and said, “He’s a doll, Diana.”

“I know,” Diana said, with an equally swooning sigh.  “He’s my best non-Bob-White friend.”

“That wasn’t even nice,” Hallie called back, with an indignant toss of her silky hair over her shoulder.

“Sorry, I meant my best non-Bob-White man friend,” Diana corrected.

“Well, that wasn’t even nice,” Nick retorted and with a toss of his head, swept Hallie across the dance floor as Diana and Honey burst into laughter.

“When children find true love, parents find true joy.”
Anonymous

“Hello, husband,” Trixie greeted as she ducked her head underneath Dan’s arm and cuddled close to his side.

“Hello, wife,” Dan replied, wondering if the grin would ever leave his face.  He tipped his head down to give her a kiss.

Sally slipped her arms around Mart’s waist and leaned toward him for a kiss of her own.  “Married couples are so romantic,” she swooned.

“Yeah,” Mart scoffed, “sometimes months and months and months after the fact.”  His blue eyes narrowed and his mouth curled into a tight smile until he looked like a cat about to pounce on a mouse, but Trixie didn’t take the bait.

“Give it up, Mart.  Sally already knows.  Apparently, somebody talks in his sleep.”

Dan and Sally both laughed heartily as Mart’s eyes flew open nearly as wide as his mouth.

“I should’ve known I had nothing to worry about,” Dan said.  “The only time Mart’s mouth is shut is when he’s eating.”

“And sometimes not even then,” Trixie jabbed.  “Though I suppose I should thank you for helping me win my bet with my secret husband.”

“Humph,” Mart snorted.  “The only reason I confronted him instead of you is because you were in Virginia at the time.”  He paused and added with a grin, “It was deliciously fun, though.”

“Well,” Trixie said to Dan with a hefty sigh, “I’m afraid we’ve got something not deliciously fun to take care of.  Bobby somehow found out, and he’s the one who told Moms and Dad.  I think we need to go over and explain and apologize.”

Dan shot a glance at Peter Belden, who was dancing with his wife, a contented smile on his face.  “Do you suppose they’re mad?”

“I don’t think so.  If they were, I think they would’ve hunted us down by now.”

“Thanks,” Dan mumbled, patting Trixie’s bottom as they headed out.  “Instills me with a lot of confidence.  He probably won’t let me call him Dad anymore.”

Trixie giggled and threaded her fingers through his to give him encouragement as they circled the dance floor, arriving at the other side to greet Peter and Helen Belden just as the music ended.  “Moms, Dad, Dan and I have something to tell you.”

“Let me guess!” Peter exclaimed.  “You’re getting married!”

Trixie choked down a laugh and shot a bemused glance at her mother to confirm that her father wasn’t tipsy—he rarely drank, and one or two glasses of wine or bottles of beer were his normal limit—but that her levelheaded, serious, banker father was merely being silly.  “Um ... no.  But it does have something to do with our getting married.”

Peter waved airily, both to indicate she should continue and that they should all follow him to a table.  He stopped at the bar on the way to get glasses of champagne for each of them.  They found an unoccupied table near the back of the reception area and sat down, and Peter took a sip of his drink before asking, “What’s this all about, Trixie?”

“We know that Bobby told you two about Dan and I getting married last year.  We just wanted to say that we’re sorry we didn’t tell you.”

“Then or now?” Peter asked with a wink.

“Well ... um ... both, I guess.  But mostly I’m sorry that apparently the whole town of Sleepyside heard about it before you did.”

“Except for Edwin,” Dan put in.  “When I realized the secret was out, I tried to pull him aside and tell him, but he’s been too busy dancing with every available woman at the reception.”

Helen chuckled as she scanned the dance floor.  “Apparently, he’s run out of available women to dance with.  He’s out there with Maddie now.”

Trixie turned to stare in astonishment.  “For a self-proclaimed hermit, he sure does make the most of his rare trips to the outside world.”

“So,” Peter interrupted, trying to get the conversation back on track, “were you attempting at any time to find and tell us as well?  Or are we only finding out because everybody else already knew?”

“We were going to tell you.  It’s not like we were going to keep it a secret forever,” Trixie insisted.  She paused and softening her voice asked, “Are you mad?  We’ve been married for a whole year without telling you, and you put out all this money for this fabulous reception—”

“Which we’ll help pay for,” Dan interjected.

Peter waved the suggestion away quickly.  “Don’t worry about it.  After all, my little girl only gets married once—well, twice, I guess.”  He laughed boisterously before taking another sip of champagne.

Helen patted Trixie’s hand and said, “Even if you had told us right away that you eloped, we still would’ve wanted to give you a nice reception to celebrate.  But I am curious why you didn’t tell us.  Did you think we’d be angry?”

“No, of course not.  It’s just that ... well, Dan and I sort of had a bet going about which one of us would tell first.”

“Who won?” Peter asked.

With a grin, Trixie answered, “I did.”

Her father’s dark eyes widened in mock surprise.  “Really?”

“Dad!  I can keep a secret.”

“Not well, you can’t.  Your face gives you away.  You get it from your mother.”

Helen arched a dubious eyebrow his way before asking Dan, “Who did you tell?”

“Technically, nobody.  But Mart found some incriminating evidence.”

Peter asked, “So, what did you win, princess?”

Trixie’s cheeks burned crimson as she gasped, “Dad!  It’s ... well, it’s ... private.”

Peter waggled his eyebrows and replied, “Lucky Dan.”  He grunted heavily as Helen elbowed him in the gut.

“How long has Mart known?” she asked her son-in-law.

“Since February.  But, to get technical again, he wasn’t the first to find out, even though it’s still my fault, I guess.”

“Get used to that, son,” Peter said sagely.  “If you can remember that phrase, all will go well for you in your marriage.”  He shifted over a seat so that his wife couldn’t elbow him again.

“Go on, Dan,” Helen urged, her blue eyes bright with interest.

“Well, Uncle Bill figured it out at Thanksgiving.  He didn’t say anything until today though.”

Turning to her daughter, Helen asked, “Are you going to hold him to the bet on a technicality?  Mart and Bill found out on their own, not because of anything Dan said.”

“Of course I’m holding him to it!” Trixie exclaimed with a grin.  “He would’ve done the same.”

Dan gasped in exaggerated disbelief.  “I would not.  I would’ve graciously conceded a draw.”

Helen nodded thoughtfully, but didn’t say anything for a minute.  Trixie glanced at her father, but he merely raised one shoulder a bit and took another sip of his bubbly.  Finally, her mother said quietly, “Somebody knew before Bill Regan did.”

Eyes wide, Trixie asked, “Who?”

Helen smiled knowingly.

“What?  When?  How did you find out?”

“Sweetie, mothers know these things.”

Peter scoffed lightly, but said nothing.

“Moms,” Trixie pleaded.

“When you and Dan came down for our anniversary in September, you had a certain ... glow about you.”

“But we’d just gotten engaged!”

“No, it wasn’t that.”

“I had just gotten accepted to the U.S. Treasury Department’s program.”

“No, this was a different kind of glow.”

“You didn’t think she was pregnant, did you?” Dan asked, with a nervous glance at Peter.

“No, that’s definitely a different kind of glow.”

“Then how?” Trixie asked impatiently.  “I just don’t understand how you knew.”

Helen shrugged, took a sip of her champagne and answered, “When you’re a mother, you’ll understand.  Mothers know their children.  There’s a special connection, and no matter what you try to keep from them, they always find out.”

“Also, she found your wedding ring on the bathroom sink that Sunday morning,” Peter offered.

Dan choked on his champagne and erupted in laughter.  Trixie put her face in her hands and groaned.  And Helen made a face at her husband, even as he leaned over the empty chair between them and kissed her soundly.

“I think the best pictures are often on the edges of any situation.
  I don't find photographing the situation nearly as interesting as photographing the edges.”
William Albert Allard

“The mothers would like a group photo,” Brian said.  “All the Bob-Whites and their significant others.”

Renee shot an uneasy glance toward Jim, who carefully avoided looking her in the eye as he asked, “What about just all the Bob-Whites?”

“We can do both,” Honey said, clapping her hands with joy.  “When’s the last time we had such a nice picture of all seven of us?”

Madeleine Wheeler had the photographer by the arm and was steering her toward them, explaining precisely what she was looking for in her efficient, detailed manner.

The photographer arranged Dan, with Trixie on his lap, in the middle, the Belden boys and their lovely ladies on either side of them.  Brian grunted good-naturedly as Honey settled heavily on his lap, and she pinched his arm and giggled.  Tad and Diana sat next to Brian and Honey, after Trixie urged the photographer not to let Dan, Mart and Tad all sit next to each other, and Jim hesitantly took Renee into his lap on the other end.  They looked into each other’s eyes solemnly, until Jim smiled pensively and rubbed a soothing hand along her back.

“If I could please get the bride to sit still,” the photographer chided with a grin, and everybody laughed.

“It’s not my fault!” Trixie insisted.  “Dan’s tickling me.”

“Moi?” Dan exclaimed in feigned innocence, even as he dangled his fingers over Trixie’s wriggling knees while she shrieked.  “I’m not even touching her!”

She finally got him to lace his fingers with hers at her waist and they all smiled happily for several shots.

“Now, just the ... I’m sorry, what did you call your club?” the photographer asked.

“The Bob-Whites of the Glen!” the seven chorused.

The men relinquished their seats leaving the three girls to sit in front, with Trixie in the middle, and the four men, all looking devastatingly handsome in their tuxes, with their ties all undone, standing behind them.

“They are sickeningly gorgeous, aren’t they?” Sally asked in a dreamy voice.  “I love a man in a tux.”

Renee swallowed hard and nodded, her somber brown eyes fixed on Jim.  Sally took a step closer to her friend and under her breath asked, “Is everything okay?”

Renee shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

Sally threaded her arm through her friend’s and gave her an encouraging squeeze.  Softly, she said, “I think we need to get out of here.  Let’s go into the city and take my brother up on those theatre tickets, let the Bob-Whites have some time together.  They won’t mind.”

When Renee didn’t object, Sally added, “Simon can’t come, so I thought I’d give that last ticket to Joanne … if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course it’s okay with me,” Renee responded quickly.  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Sally glanced over to where Jo and Jim were conversing.  She had pulled his bow tie from around his neck and was trying to tie it neatly around her own neck.  Jim was laughing at her awkward attempts and trying to offer his help.  Sally shrugged and said, “You tell me.”

With a sigh, Renee said, “What happened—the problems between Jim and I have nothing to do with Jo.  Truly.”

And she meant it.  Of course she was jealous of Joanne—of the way she could make Jim smile, the way she could get him to open up to her when he couldn’t open up to Renee, or anybody else.

But part of her was also thankful Jim had somebody he could talk to.

“In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.”
Kahlil Gibran

“Can you guys stay awhile, or do you have more urgent business to attend to?” Mart asked with a wicked grin on his face.

“Don’t you think you’re in enough trouble, blabbermouth?” Dan retorted, pinging an after-dinner mint directly between his eyes.

“I just thought it might be fun to have a Bob-White meeting, for old times’ sake,” Mart replied, picking the mint up off the table where it had fallen and popping it into his mouth.

“Renee and Hallie and Jo and I were all thinking about going into the city to see a show,” Sally said to further encourage them.  “My brother got some tickets for me.  I thought it might be something we could do, in case you Bob-Whites decided you wanted to spend some time together.”

“So, how do we get rid of you?” Dan asked Tad dryly.

Tad smirked at him.  “Steve and I are doing some brotherly bonding.  We plan on getting liquored up and then going into the city to try and score some hot chicks coming out of the theatre.”

“Hey!” Mart shouted.  “Back off my hot chick, dude!  You already stole Diana out from under me.  Keep your paws off Sally.”

Tad shrugged.  “Sorry, Mart, but if you can’t hold onto a beautiful woman...”

With a growl, Mart lunged at his friend and they were instantly wrestling on the lawn, as Diana and Sally rolled their eyes at one another.

“Hey!  Hey!” Dan shouted.  “Those are rented tuxes, you buffoons!”

Mart and Tad scrambled to their feet, wiping the grass off each other’s tux and apologizing like little boys.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“Sheesh!” Tad added in a loud aside to Mart.  “The guy gets married and suddenly he’s Captain Responsible.  Next thing you know he’ll be driving a minivan and complaining about property taxes.  What a square.”

In the next moment, Tad found himself on the lawn again, as Dan tackled him and Mart gleefully joined in the fray.

“So,” Trixie said, raising her voice to be heard over the tussle, which she deliberately ignored, “where are we having this meeting?”

“Manor House,” Brian suggested.  “It’s got a/c and I think Honey ought to get to bed early.  It’s been a long day.”

“Okay, but I have to go to the farm first and change out of my dress.”

“I can help you with that,” Dan offered, smiling lasciviously at his bride as he stood and brushed the grass from his pants.

“Do we have time to shower and change before we head to the city?” Jo asked Sally.

Sally nodded her assent and Dan said, “I can help you ladies with that,” which earned him a smack in the arm from Trixie.

“Well, I’m going back to Mr. Maypenny’s first,” Mart said, his fingers clawing at his neck.  “I’ve got to get out of this monkey suit.”

“I can help—ew!  No, no I can’t,” Dan said with a shudder.

Trixie leaned down to remove her shoes.  “So, Manor House?  Half an hour?”  As she got to her feet, she moaned wearily and was immediately swept into her husband’s arms.

“Want a ride, my beautiful bride?”

They exchanged a languorous kiss, after which Trixie called back to the group, “Let’s make it an hour, okay?”

Everybody else groaned and Sally held up her hands and declared, “I’ll make sure they get up to Manor House in thirty minutes.”

“Shoot,” Tad drawled.  “Dan hasn’t gotten any in three weeks.  Won’t take him five minutes, tops.”

Diana and Sally both gave him a smack on the back of his head. 

“Hey!” Tad protested to Sally.

“Sorry, Tad.  It’s hard to tell you and Mart apart sometimes.”  Sally stepped closer to her boyfriend and swatted him on the shoulder.

“What did I do?” Mart whined.

“Nothing yet, but I’m sure you’ll do something that deserves it.  This just saves us some time.”

“But, alas,” Brian intoned dramatically, “it robs us of the pleasure of taking care of that matter for you.”

The Bob-Whites parted in laughter and sunshine.  The ties that bound them had extended over the years to accommodate the different paths life had taken them on.  They had branched off to include new friendships and new loves.  But like the walls of Crabapple Farm, they remained stretchy, holding them together over the years through thick and thin, never to break.

“But friendship is precious, not only in the shade, but in the sunshine of life;
and thanks to a benevolent arrangement of things, the greater part of life is sunshine.”
Thomas Jefferson