Part 3

March 17, 2000

She was wearing a green sweater and green flats, and she had a green shamrock affixed to her coat lapel.  It was the best St. Patrick’s Day he’d ever had.

He grabbed her bag and tossed it against the wall—having people tripping over it would certainly ruin the mood.  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.

She slid her arms inside his coat and around his waist and fervently returned his affection, the two of them oblivious to the crowd around them in the airport. 

Dan had come down to Washington to visit Trixie for a short weekend at the end of January and they had had an overnight visit halfway between Washington and New York in mid-February, to celebrate Valentine’s Day almost a week late, but that was it.  It was definitely more difficult than when she had been in training.  Georgia and Virginia had both been finite journeys.  They could see the completion of the program at the end of the tunnel.  But this time there was no end in sight.  They both knew her assignment in Washington would come to an end in just a few years, but they didn’t know when exactly and the end of that tunnel was still dark and murky and very far away.  It made their time apart much more difficult this time around.

Several minutes later, as the fog around them cleared and they came back to reality, Dan finally found his voice.  “When we’re apart, I don’t know how we’re going to survive the next few years.  But when we’re together, I think we can do anything.”

Trixie allowed him to end the kiss but kept her arms tightly around him.  “Tell me about my family,” she implored, as she did every time she called.

“Later,” he growled.  “Right now, I just want to get you to a hotel.”

Trixie giggled.  “Dan, we live here.  Can’t we just go home?”

“Too far.  I’d do it with you in the airport restroom if it wouldn’t mean my badge.”

“You only love me for my body,” she sulked.

“Yes,” he agreed, “especially that adorably pouty lower lip of yours.”  He leaned down and nipped it playfully, making her drop her moping façade and laugh.

“Honey, Brian and Diana are all at our apartment right now,” he mumbled as he moved his lips and teeth along her collarbone.

“Why?”

“Pizza.  Movie night.  To surprise you.  Act surprised.”

“Why am I being surprised?  It’s not my birthday.”

“Because they haven’t seen you since New Year’s.  They miss you.  Moms wanted us over for brunch Sunday but Brian has to work.  Then Mart, Sally, Jim, and Hallie decided to drive down from Indian Lake but they won’t be here until about lunchtime tomorrow.”

“So why can’t Brian, Honey and Di visit with us then?”

“Because Brian has a twelve-hour shift tomorrow.  He won’t be free until six.  We tried to work out a schedule that would fit everybody and the next thing I know, our intimate little weekend turned into a house party at the farm.”  When Trixie gave him a slightly murderous look, he defended himself by saying, “I couldn’t say no to your mom.”

Trixie sighed in resignation.  “That’s a lot of family togetherness.”

“Hence, the hotel room for the next few hours.  I put the reservation under Mr. and Mrs. James Bond.”

Setting aside her dismay, Trixie laughed, as Dan had hoped she would.  “You did not!”

Pulling her close again, he reminded her, “You love your family.  Being together is more important than what we’re actually doing while being together.  And besides…”  He waggled his eyebrows meaningfully at her.  “…finding a time and place to be alone together is part of the fun.  Think of it as a challenge.  You love challenges.”

She tilted her head up for another kiss and said, “I especially love the rewards at the end of a challenge!”

Dan raised his brow in interest.  “Multiple rewards?  My, aren’t we ambitious, Agent Mangan!”

“I think you’re the one who’ll need to be ambitious … champ.”

They both made a face and shook their heads before breaking into laughter.  Dan picked up Trixie’s bag and put his arm around her shoulders as they left the airport and headed to the hotel.

 

March 18, 2000

“So, there I was, not having seen my husband for a month, and I’m stuck watching An Affair to Remember with the weepy sisters here.”  Trixie jabbed opposing thumbs at Honey and Diana.

The Bob-Whites Plus, minus Brian who hadn’t arrived yet, were settled in the Belden family room.  Moms had made two large crock pots full of chili for dinner and Mart and Tad were each consuming their third bowl, a plate of cornbread on the hearth between them.  Trixie was sitting cross-legged on the couch with her girlfriends and Dan sat on the floor in front of her, his back against the couch.  Sally was in Peter’s recliner with a Belden family photo album on her lap, while Jim and Hallie platonically shared the loveseat.  Moms was in her easy chair, cuddling her grandson.  Peter was in the kitchen helping Bobby, Larry, and Terry gather up their camping gear for their sleepover in the Bob-White clubhouse.

“How can you not like Cary Grant?” Diana gasped.

“I do like Cary Grant,” Trixie replied.  “I don’t like that stupid, sappy movie.  Give me North by Northwest any day!  And my gripe was not with the choice of movie, anyway.  I hadn’t seen my husband in a month!”

“Excuse me,” Honey pointed out, her voice very sweet and very tactful.  “Was your flight delayed?”

“No.  Why?”

“Then why did it take you and Dan two and a half hours to get back from the airport?”

Suddenly, it seemed as if every eye in the room was on Trixie, waiting for her response.

Plastering a grisly smile on her reddening face, she muttered through clenched teeth, “My mother’s in the room.  Somebody change the subject.”

Everybody laughed, including Trixie, and Tad jumped to her rescue.

“Did you know Molinson is retiring?”

“What?” several Bob-Whites gasped in unison.

“Yeah, my brother told me when he picked me up at the train station this morning.  Sometime this summer.”

“Why, Wendell has been with the police department since before we moved here,” Helen commented.

“I can’t imagine Sleepyside without Captain Molinson in charge,” Trixie commented.

“Well, at least you know you weren’t the reason he retired,” Jim joked.

A blast of cold air drifted in from the kitchen and a familiar voice made Honey’s eyes light up.  She jumped off the couch and announced, “Brian’s here!” before hurrying away to greet her husband.

Trixie tilted her head toward the rumble of conversation in the kitchen.  “He’s not alone,” she remarked.

“Brian brought home a mysterious visitor,” Mart said, arching a sandy eyebrow dramatically and using his spoon as a magnifying glass.  “Better go check it out, Detective.”

Trixie stuck her tongue out at him but unfolded her legs as if about to do just that.  Dan grabbed her ankles to teasingly restrain her.

“I should go fix Brian and his guest supper,” Moms said.

“Brian can get his own dinner.  He’s a big boy,” Trixie scolded.

“Yes, but if she does the motherly hostess thing, that means I get Matthew,” Sally said, standing up and holding out her arms for the baby.

Helen relinquished the child into Sally’s waiting arms but before she could get to the kitchen, Brian and Honey came in with their guest.

“Hi, all,” Brian called out.  “Did Mart and Tad leave me any chili?”

Moms gave her eldest son a hug and a kiss.  “I’ll go fix you each a bowl.”

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Mart jeered as Simon received a motherly kiss on the cheek from Helen.

Everybody greeted Simon warmly with the exception of Jim, who glowered silently, and Hallie, whose dark eyes were cold as she offered a stiffly polite, “Hello.”

Diana and Trixie moved off the couch to let the weary doctors sit and moments later, bowls of steaming chili were placed in their hands and a plate of cornbread on the cushion between them.  Honey perched on the arm of the couch and rubbed Brian’s shoulders.

“I hope you don’t mind me crashing the party,” Simon said.  “But I heard there was real chili here and I jumped at the invite.”

“Real as opposed to Hormel?” Diana asked.

“No, real as opposed to the fake chili my colleagues prefer.  I work with a bunch of Texans and Ohioans who think chili doesn’t have beans and for some ungodly reason should be poured over spaghetti.”  He made a face and shuddered before taking a hefty spoonful of Moms’ chili and moaning happily.

“Well, I don’t know about the wisdom of loading you all full of beans during a weekend house party,” Moms teased, “but I wouldn’t make it any other way.”

“For which we are all grateful, Mrs. B,” Tad said, raising his spoon in toast to her.

“I don’t know how grateful I’m going to be,” Jim remarked, “since you and I are rooming together tonight and you’ve had three bowls of beans.”

“About to be four,” Tad returned with a lop-sided grin as he stood and made his way to the kitchen for a refill.

“I thought your family had the big mansion on the hill,” Simon said.

“We do,” Honey answered.  “But Mother’s on a major redecorating spree.  Any room that isn’t completely gutted is stuffed full of furniture and paintings and boxes of books and knickknacks.  And since we have no close neighbors, the workers come at the crack of dawn and start pounding on things.  Moms said we could all stay here.”

“And luckily for us, Crabapple Farm has stretchy walls,” Mart said.

“Tad and I were going to stay at my parents’ house but everybody insisted we stay here,” Diana said.  “Mummy and Daddy are still in Arizona, anyway.”

“Your brothers and sisters stay home alone?” Sally questioned.

“No, they have a governess.  We all go to my uncle’s ranch in Arizona for Christmas break and then Daddy and the twins come home for work and school.  Mummy usually stays in Arizona all winter and Daddy joins her several weekends.”  Her tone was light but her violet eyes betrayed her true feelings over the lack of closeness her family had.

Hallie noticed and tactfully changed the subject.  “Well, stretchy walls or not, we’ve managed to run off Bobby, Larry and Terry.  They’re spending the night camping in the clubhouse.”

“Only because Moms thinks it’s too cold to sleep outside,” Bobby remarked as he came into the family room with his two friends close behind him.  “We’re not babies, Moms.”

“I know, but you wanted Reddy to come with you and it’s not warm enough for him to be outside all night.  His old bones aren’t what they used to be.”

At the sound of his name, Reddy rose—more slowly than in his younger years but with bright eyes and a wagging tail—and came to stand by Bobby.  His master gently tugged on his silky ears, which brought a groan of happiness from the setter.

“I know, Moms,” Bobby replied with a congenial smile.  “Heated clubhouse, here we come.”

“And no girls,” his father warned from the kitchen doorway.

Bobby’s cheeks flushed as he nodded his consent and Larry and Terry snickered.  The three of them said goodnight and went back through the kitchen to retrieve their sleeping bags before heading out the back door with Reddy at their heels.

“My brothers are too young to be thinking about girls that way,” Diana groaned, her eyes closed as if it were a prayer rather than a statement.

“They’re almost fifteen,” Mart said.  “When I was almost fifteen…”  He trailed off as his fiancée and his parents looked pointedly at him.  “…I was an innocent boy who had only pure and chaste thoughts about Diana.”

“The same pure and chaste thoughts you have about my sister?” Simon asked.

“I don’t want him to have thoughts that are too pure and chaste,” Sally put in.  “After all, I want a houseful of these someday.”  Her blue eyes held a warm, maternal glow as Matthew suckled sleepily on her pinkie finger.

“All in due time, my love,” Mart promised as he rose and placed a kiss on her forehead before taking his empty bowl to the kitchen.

“I’m ready for a bunch, too,” Honey said.

“You are?”  Brian raised a dark eyebrow questioningly, a spoonful of chili halfway to his mouth.

“After you finish your residency,” his wife amended.

“So, after a traumatic delivery and four months of colic, you’re ready for more?” Dan teased.

“I survived.  It strengthened me.  I’d love to have my first child prepare me for everything scary to come.  Or at least make it seem less daunting.”

“I thought that’s what Trixie’s job was,” Brian teased.

“Anyway,” Trixie told Dan, “I think Matthew’s delivery was more traumatic for you than it was for Honey.”

Dan chuckled.  “That’s for sure.  Next time, I’m calling ahead before I visit my very pregnant sister-in-law.”

“Well, I hope whoever has a baby next has a girl,” Hallie said.  “I won a very pretty quilt with pink hearts all over it in the raffle at the school fundraiser last month.  I’d love to give it as a gift to one of you.”

Jim had been passing on the Bob-White spirit to the boys at his school and they had decided to host a Valentine’s Day fundraiser for the American Heart Association.  They had worked tirelessly to round up items for a silent auction and sign up volunteers to make baked goods for sale.  A local sewing circle had donated the beautiful quilt, made especially for the event.

Jim also designated the weekend as an open house so that Indian Lake’s residents could see how the Winthrop School for Boys was progressing.  Science projects, English essays, history reports and maps, a spelling bee, and a math competition all gave the boys a chance to show off what they had been learning to the community that was as much family as many of them had.

“Hallie wasn’t the only winner at the fundraiser,” Jim mentioned, a wicked grin on his face.

Mart groaned as he returned from the kitchen and returned to his place by the hearth, the fire crackling at his back.  “Do we have to bring that up?  I’m nice and warm here by the fire with a belly full of Moms’ four-alarm chili and the apple pie heating up in the oven.  I don’t want to go back to that cold, cold place.”

He shivered melodramatically as Sally explained.  “Mart offered his ‘services’ as one of the items in the silent auction.  I think he figured he would be doing some landscaping or planting flowers come spring.”

“Even shoveling ten feet of snow would’ve been better,” Mart said.

“But the boys pooled all their money together,” Jim said, “and bought Mart for themselves.”

“All they wanted was to see Mart doing a polar bear swim in the lake,” Hallie finished.

Everybody laughed and Simon said, “You should’ve heard it from my father’s point of view.  Here he was, heading to work early Monday morning, when he sees Mart in his Speedo on the dock by the lake and about two dozen boys in parkas, ski masks, gloves, and boots cheering him on.”

“I was not wearing a Speedo,” Mart corrected emphatically.

“My father was worried his little girl had gotten herself engaged to the village idiot.”

“It was for a good cause,” Jim reminded, his tone not quite light, his eyes not quite friendly.

As busy as her life was, Trixie hadn’t had time to get to the bottom of this situation and a quick glance to Honey showed that her best friend hadn’t, either.  Was Jim mad because Simon slept with Jo?  Or was he mad because he hadn’t continued to pursue Hallie?

“Did someone say there was an apple pie in the oven?” she asked, determined to keep the weekend gathering enjoyable.

“Two of them,” her mother said.  “And there’s cinnamon ice cream to top them off.”

“Moms, you’re the best!” Trixie squealed.  She jumped to her feet, pulling Dan up with her, and offered to get some for everybody.

Hallie rose as well.  “I think I’ll help them,” she said.  “And make sure you all get pie before it’s burned and ice cream before it melts into a puddle.”

True to her word, she kept the Mangans focused and before Mart could be hungry again, they were back to serve dessert.  Dan carried a large serving tray loaded with plates of sliced pie while Trixie followed behind him with the carton of ice cream and a scoop.  Simon was the only one who turned down pie.

“I think I’ll have another bowl of chili first,” he said.  “Save me a piece for later.”

“No promises, Drake,” Mart said with a grin.

Simon waved down Mrs. Belden as she rose to get him more chili.  “I’ll manage, thank you, Mrs. B.  Sit and relax.”

When he came into the kitchen, he found Hallie washing dishes.

“Don’t you like apple pie?” he asked.

She glanced over her shoulder at him briefly before returning her focus to the sink full of suds.  “I do.  I just thought I’d help out Aunt Helen with the clean-up.”

Simon came closer, setting his bowl next to the crock pot on the kitchen counter.  There were several long moments of silence before he spoke again.  “I thought we were friends now, Hallie Belden.”

Her shoulders stiffened as she replied softly, “That was before you slept with Joanne.”

Raising his brow curiously, Simon leaned on the counter and tried to make eye contact with the Indian princess.  “Jealous?”

Her inelegant snort was anything but regal.  “You wish.”

“Okay.”  Seemingly satisfied with her answer, he took the lid off the crock pot and stuck the serving spoon inside to stir the chili.  “So, if you’re not jealous, then why are you so upset about it?”

She didn’t answer, though her movements became jerkier and more vehement.  A couple of times he saw suds splash out onto the counter or the floor as she vigorously scrubbed a cutting board.

Without having refilled his bowl, Simon tapped the ladle on the edge of the crock pot and replaced it on the spoon rest on the counter.  He turned back toward Hallie and fixed his sharp blue eyes on her.

He didn’t say anything.  He simply watched her.

Finally, she dropped a handful of spoons into the sink and snapped, “What?”

“Nothing.  I just enjoy watching you.”

“Well, don’t.  It bothers me.”

He tried to make his snort as scornful as hers.  “Is there anything that doesn’t bother you?  Seriously, I used to think Jim Frayne was the most uptight person I’d ever met.  Until I met you.”

She turned to glare at him, her wet hands dripping onto the hardwood floor, and he could tell she was struggling not to lash out at him.  Her fire turned him on but he kept his cool demeanor intact and focused on trying to make the volcano erupt.

“Maybe you’re upset because you really do wish it was you instead of Jo and you’re just too uptight to admit it.”

She yanked a dishtowel off of the kitchen island and viciously dried her hands.

Leaning toward her, he lowered his voice to a husky whisper he knew was sexy and asked, “Is it because you’re frigid, Hallie Belden?  Is that why you don’t want me?  Is that why you’re jealous of Jo?  Because I can tell you from personal experience that she is definitely not frigid.”

If there was anything blacker than night, that’s what her eyes looked like now.

“Is that why your husband asked for a divorce?”

The narrow slits on her stormy face widened and without even a heartbeat of hesitation she raised her hand and slapped him across the face, hard.

He refrained from touching it, though it stung sharply.  Instead, he opened his mouth and worked his jaw as if ascertaining that it wasn’t broken.  He contorted his mouth into a smarmy smile and was about to see how much further he could push her when they were interrupted.

“Mart’s asking for seconds already.  You’d better get some while you still…”  Jim let his voice trail off as he took in the heated situation.  “Everything okay in here?”

Hallie drew her shoulders back and tilted her chin out pugnaciously.  “Everything’s fine,” she said, flashing a transparently fake smile at Jim.  “I’m going to get a little fresh air before I have dessert.”

She grabbed her coat off the peg by the door and disappeared into the darkness of the backyard.

Jim leveled his gaze at Simon, who wondered wickedly if Jim was the original green-eyed monster.  He smiled at him and said, “It’s killing you, isn’t it?”

“What is?”  Jim’s voice was calm, belying the temper Simon could see rising in his eyes.

“You can’t figure out how I could possibly be related to sweet Sally Drake and the rest of my family.”

Jim’s lips twisted into a grim sort of smile.

“And why your best friend—sorry, your best non-Bob-White friend—would want to jump into bed with me.”

The hint of a smile disappeared and the emerald eyes sparked with temper again.

“And worst of all, you can’t figure out why your best Bob-White friend and your sister would like me and want to spend time with me and invite me to family gatherings when all you want to do is punch me in the face.”

Before Jim actually could punch him, Simon grabbed a hot pad and picked up the pie that was cooling on top of the stove.  He sauntered easily past Jim and into the family room, calling out, “I hear the Bottomless Pit is ready for more.  Anybody want to claim seconds before Mart does?”

Jim fumed for a moment, listening to the friendly banter in the family room, none of them aware of the tension that still lingered in the kitchen.

Deciding that some fresh air sounded good, he grabbed his jacket and went out to join Hallie on the back porch.

He saw her body tense as the screen door shut softly behind him, then relax as she turned her head and saw who it was.

“Want some company?” he asked.

“Sure,” she agreed amiably, resting her shoulder against a post and staring out across the back yard.

He leaned back against the porch railing so he could see her face and her reactions.  “You okay?”

She nodded.

“Because I’ll be more than happy to express my opinion about that jerk if it’ll make you feel better.”

She chuckled under her breath and turned to smile at him.  The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and almost seemed to be tinged with sadness, which wasn’t the emotion he was expecting from her after a face-off with Simon Drake.

“Hallie?”

“Am I a cold-hearted bitch?”

Jim was taken aback.  “No.”

“I mean, I guess it’s always been there, right?  Trixie hated me when we were teenagers.  Dan and I had no chemistry whatsoever.  My mother and I don’t get along.  My husband divorced me and I don’t think I’ve had a date since I moved back home.  Slimeballs like Simon think my body is worth drooling over, so it must just be my shitty personality.  I’m a bitch.”

She was exaggerating, melodramatically blowing the situation all out of proportion.  It reminded him of Trixie and almost made him smile but for the tears he could see lingering in her eyes.

“Well, first of all, it isn’t easy to find singles in Indian Lake,” he began.  “Take it from me.  There’s a lot of families there, a lot of people who have known each other since kindergarten, a lot of retired couples living in their cabins in the mountains, a school full of teenage boys, and not a lot of single men or women.

“But most importantly, you are not a bitch.  I know Trixie and Dan don’t think so.  I highly doubt your mother thinks so.  And I don’t think so.  Who gives a damn what your ex and Dr. Sleaze think?”

“Simon didn’t say I was a bitch.  He said I was uptight ... and frigid.”

She didn’t let the tears loose.  She didn’t look sad or angry or indignant.  She simply tilted her nose up—like a high school girl being teased for wearing a homemade dress to prom, pretending it didn’t hurt her pride when inside it felt like a thousand daggers stabbing her in the stomach.

Jim had no idea what possessed him at that moment.  Maybe he just wanted to be the knight in shining armor he was so often compared to.  Maybe it was the moonlight and the scent of spring in the air despite the last, desperate grip winter held on Sleepyside.  Maybe he just wanted to prove Simon wrong.  Or maybe it was the simple understanding he had for her sadness.

When you start building walls to protect yourself from the pain, sometimes all anybody else can see is the wall—the cold, hard, unbending wall.

He stepped forward and without giving her—or himself—any time to think about it, slid one large, freckled hand around the back of her neck, drew her to him, and kissed her.

He made sure it was light enough not to be offensive, yet passionate enough to assure her she wasn’t frigid.  He was a little surprised when she opened her mouth and slid her tongue along his lips.  He was even more surprised when he opened his own mouth to receive her.  Their tongues flirted with each other for a moment before Hallie pulled back.

Jim dropped his hand to her shoulder and locked his eyes with hers.  He didn’t press the issue but neither did he step back.  He didn’t pull her to him nor did he relinquish his gentle hold.

Then she leaned forward, leaned into him.  She reached out to him with her dark eyes and parted her lips in a clear message of longing.

And he responded.

He moved his hand from her shoulder to her back, pulling her closer and angling his lips down to hers.  He felt her long, graceful fingers reach tentatively around his waist.  Emboldened, he let his hand drift down her back to her waist, hesitating only slightly before sliding farther down to cup her bottom.

He felt her take a small breath of surprise, all while never moving her lips from his as she languidly, almost deliberately, explored his mouth with her tongue.

His free hand came up to toy with the ends of her long, dark locks.  Her hair reached to the middle of her back and she had let it flow freely tonight.  He wrapped a tress around his finger and stroked her back.  He let her take the lead on the kissing, let her decide how much, how far, how intensely she wanted to go.

She took a small step back, never breaking the kiss, and tucked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans.  After a moment’s hesitation, she clawed at his shirt, untucking it just enough so that she could press her cool fingers against his skin.

It was getting hard for him to concentrate on her mouth, though he was vaguely aware that she tasted sweet, like sugar and cinnamon.  She must have sampled the ice cream before Trixie and Dan took dessert out to the family room.

The thought shot out of his brain in a snap when he felt her fingers coming forward, still tucked firmly inside his jeans.  He tried to resist it but his honorable, rational, borderline OCD mentality kicked in.  They couldn’t do this here on the Belden porch.  But he couldn’t stop her, either, make her feel like she was undesirable.  He had to stop her.

But did he really want to?

“Hallie?  Jim?”

Diana’s voice ringing from the kitchen broke them quickly apart.  Hallie put her trembling fingers to her lips as she backed away from Jim.

Diana poked her head out the door.  “There you are.  Jim, we’re going to start up a game of Progressive Rum.  You in?”

Jim never took his eyes off Hallie.  “Yeah, sure.”

“Tad, Sally, and Mr. B want to know if you want to play a round of pinochle with them, Hallie?”

Quickly composing herself, Hallie turned and smiled at her friend.  “Sure.  I’ll be right in.”

After Diana returned to the warmth of the farmhouse, Jim and Hallie stared silently at one another for a moment.

Finally, Jim grinned at her and said, “You’re anything but frigid, Hallie.”

She smiled shakily at him, her eyes bright but nervous.  Somehow it settled his whirlpooling emotions.  She was just as taken aback by the unexpected heat in the cold March night as he was.

He turned to open the door for her just as Simon was coming out, coat and gloves on.

“Good night, Jim,” he said with clipped formality.  “Duty calls me back to the hospital.”

Jim felt as if he had melted butter flowing through his veins and he felt so warm and so loose inside that, although he wanted to bare his teeth at the man, all he could manage was a pleasant, “Good night, then.”

“Hallie Belden.”  Simon nodded his head politely to her.

Hallie smiled and as she slipped past him, she stopped, looked him squarely in the eye and said confidently, “Just so you know, Dr. Drake, I am anything but frigid.”

Simon watched her go then shifted his gaze to Jim.  Jim merely shrugged as if he had no idea what Hallie was talking about.  Allowing a broad smile to slide across his face, he shut the door on Dr. Simon Drake.

Long after Mart had won the game of Progressive Rum by taking full advantage of Brian’s work fatigue and Jim’s inexplicable distraction, Trixie pulled her socks off, dropping them carelessly to the floor and jumped into bed, sprawling across her husband’s warm body.

“Your feet are cold,” he griped good-naturedly.

“That’s because it’s cold.  I can’t believe the boys are sleeping in the clubhouse tonight.”

“It’s got a heater.”

“Not much of one.  I’d be freezing if we were sleeping there.”

“Well, maybe we could think of inventive ways to keep warm,” he teased, running his hands under her shirt and up her back and laughing as she smothered a squeal of protest against his chest.

“Your hands are cold!”

“Cold hands, warm—”

“Don’t say it,” she interrupted with a giggle.

“What?” he asked with exaggerated naiveté.  “Heart.  That’s how that saying goes, Trix.  Cold hands, warm heart.”

“Not from where I’m sitting,” she purred, letting her hands wander.

“Well, then don’t sit there,” he returned, gently shoving her off of him to the other side of the bed.  “And try to remember your parents are in the next room.”

“So?  We’re married.”

“Yeah, but one of us is also kind of loud.  Forget it.”

“But I’m going back to Washington tomorrow.  This might be our last chance.”

“Trixie, I can’t ... perform knowing your parents could be listening in.”

A quiet sigh.  “Fine.”

He knew what that sigh meant.  He understood most of Trixie’s noises that she used in place of speech.  And though it was common knowledge—even among men—that men knew little about women, he did know what “fine” meant.  It meant she wasn’t fine.

Throwing back the blanket and getting out of bed, he fumbled around in the dark until he found his pants.

“What’re you doing?”

“Let’s go find an acceptable place.”

“Well, I don’t want to if you’re going to be mad about it,” Trixie pouted.

“I’m not mad.  I want to be with you.  I wanted to be with you all weekend, just you and me, but things didn’t work out that way.  So dress warmly and we’ll go find somewhere else to be alone.”

“You want to go out somewhere?  In the middle of the night?”

“Well, we’re not doing it downstairs.  Brian and Honey are in the guest room and Mart and Sally are in the living room and that’s only marginally less squickifying than doing it while your parents are in the next room.”

“Squickifying?”  Trixie giggled. 

Dan grinned.  “Are you in or are you out?”

“It’s cold outside.”

“We’ll heat things up quick enough.”

Reaching out for him, she implored, “Let’s just do it here.  I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

“You’re giving me grief because I can’t do it with your parents and brothers nearby but it’s perfectly all right with you if we do it in your baby brother’s bed?”

“He’s not a baby.  He’s sixteen.”

“Exactly.  He’s a hormonal teenager.  Can you imagine what he does in that bed at night?  At all hours of the day?”

“Ew!”  Trixie jumped out of the bed like it was on fire.  “Now that’s totally squickifying!”

“So ... where do you suggest we go?”

Trixie mumbled to herself as she found her clothes and began dressing.  “Clubhouse is out.  Stables are out.  The garage is nasty in the wintertime.  Boathouse?”

“That’ll work.  I have to use the bathroom first.  I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Okay, I’ll get some blankets from the laundry room.  Don’t forget the you-know-what.”

“Have I ever?”

Quietly, they opened the bedroom door and snuck into the hallway.  Trixie stood on her tiptoes to give him a teasing kiss that promised more to come before stealthily creeping down the stairway.  Dan watched until the last frazzled curl disappeared before heading to the bathroom.

The light over the kitchen sink was on as Trixie came down the stairs.  She hoped it wasn’t Mart up eating ... again.  She paused just out of sight and listened for anybody moving around the kitchen.  She cocked her head curiously.  The soft voice she heard seemed to be a woman’s.  Taking the last two steps down into the kitchen, she saw her mother leaning up against the kitchen island, her back to Trixie as she stared out the window above the sink.

“Moms?”

Whirling around, her face flushed, her mother whispered, “Trixie!  What are you doing up?”

“Um...”  She decided to deflect the question rather than answer it.  “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes, of course.  I just wanted to get some warm milk.  I couldn’t sleep.”

Smiling, Trixie said, “You aren’t worried about Bobby, are you?”

“Bobby?  Oh.  Well, maybe a little.”  She smiled guiltily at her only daughter.

“I’m sure they’ll be okay in the clubhouse.  We all camped out there more than once.”

“I’m sure you’re right.  Did you ... want any milk?” she asked, almost reluctantly, Trixie thought.

“Oh.  No.  I’ll just...”  She waved vaguely in the direction of the bedrooms.  Maybe she and Dan could sneak out the window and climb down the trellis on the front porch without being heard.  But before she could even start up the stairway, Dan was there.  Gleeps, he moves like a cat burglar!  Trixie thought with a grimace.

“Trix, should I bring just a couple of condoms or the whole bo—Ahh!—Hi, Moms!”

Trixie flushed, certain Dan was doing the same, if not quite as noticeably as she always did.

“We’re … um … we were just going to … um…”

“…go for a walk,” Trixie finished hastily, reaching blindly to grasp at his sleeve.

They turned to hurry out through the service porch when Moms’ voice brought them to a halt.

“Trixie.”

Trixie mumbled a curse under her breath as she turned back to face her mother.  She and her mother hadn’t talked about sex since Trixie was a girl and was first discovering her interest in boys.  It hadn’t been an uncomfortable discussion—she and her mother never had a problem discussing serious matters—but tonight would be downright ... squickifying.

“Yes, Moms?”

“I was at the wedding.”

Trixie furrowed her brow in confusion.  “What?”

“I was there when you and Dan got married.  I wasn’t under any delusions that a healthy sex life didn’t come with the deal.”

Trixie didn’t know whether to laugh or just fall down dead right there on the kitchen floor.  She stared down at the polished wood floor, considering the second option.  She heard a choked sound of amusement come from her mother but when she looked up, she was staring serenely at her from behind the kitchen island.

“Yes, Moms,” she mumbled, trying to smile at the humor of the situation.

“You haven’t seen each other in about a month and spring is in the air.”

Trixie frowned as her mother’s voice cracked a little on the last word but before she could comment on it, her mother continued.

“I imagine being in a house with your parents and your brothers and sleeping in your little brother’s bed kills the mood a bit.”

Trixie thought she heard Dan chuckling behind her.  She wanted to smack him into silence but was still too mortified to move.

“So, go,” her mother went on.  “Enjoy your … walk.”

She motioned them out the door with a flick of her fingers and this time, Trixie didn’t hesitate.  She turned, pushing Dan frantically out the door ahead of her.  She thought about pretending she didn’t hear when her mother called again but, instead, reluctantly turned back to her.

“Take a couple of blankets.”  Despite the darkness, Trixie would swear she saw her mother blush as she added, “It’s still pretty cold at night and the boathouse isn’t the most comfortable place in the world to—”

“Okay, okay, okay!”  Her cheeks flaming, Trixie grabbed a quilt from the shelf in the laundry room and hurried out the door without a backward glance.

Inside the kitchen, Helen Belden breathed a sigh of relief.  “That was awkward,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Well, I wouldn’t have given my baby girl such blatant permission to do it, if I were you.”

Helen looked down to where her husband sat on the floor, hidden from view behind the kitchen island, his hands running seductively up his wife’s bare legs.

“It was that, or risk having a real heart-to-heart with my daughter and son-in-law.  And with you down there toying with me, that didn’t seem prudent.”

Peter’s smile was filled with mischief and not a little lust.  “Doing it in the kitchen with two of your sons on the same floor doesn’t ‘kill the mood a bit’?” he teased.

“Well, I’m afraid the boathouse is otherwise occupied.  Do you have any other bright ideas?”

“Other than taking a cold shower at midnight you mean?”

Tugging the hem of her nightgown, he drew her down to the floor with him and with their mouths pressed hard against each other to muffle the noise, gave in to the airs of spring.

 

March 19, 2000

Jogging in Washington D.C. in the early mornings was electric.  One of the busiest cities in the world was quiet but with a taut edge as it poised for the start of another day.  When Trixie jogged through the Mall and watched the double sunrise as the Reflecting Pool turned the same pink and orange as the sky, it fired her up and made her look forward to another day on the job.

Jogging through the Wheeler preserve was like soaking in a hot bubble bath after a long day at work.  The peace and quiet soothed her and her morning run worked knots out of her instead of winding her up for the day.

She had been out for about 45 minutes and let her body slow naturally as she came up the incline above the Wheeler lake.  When she reached the top, she stopped to catch her breath, taking in the crisp spring air like mother’s milk.

A steady rhythm of hoofbeats made her automatically step back off the bridle path.  Whoever it was wasn’t coming fast but may not be expecting to see someone on foot this early in the morning.

As he caught sight of Trixie, Jim brought Jupiter to a gentle walk and then reined him to a stop.  “Good morning.”

“Hey,” Trixie said with a wave, still trying to regulate her breathing.

“What’re you doing up and about so early?”

“Daily run.  Five miles.”

“Without Dan?”

“He’s not much for jogging at the ‘butt crack of dawn’ as he puts it.  And anyway,” she grinned naughtily and waggled her eyebrows, “he’s still sleeping.  We were up most of the night.  I think we must’ve used an entire box of con—”

Jim held up one hand and grinned back.  “Say no more, sunshine.”

Trixie moaned quietly.  “Don’t you start with the nicknames.”  She reached up to tighten the rubber band that was doing a poor job of holding her wayward curls in place.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t know you minded it.”

“I don’t,” she sighed.  “It’s just that ... well, I don’t have a nickname for Dan.”

“And this is a problem why?”

Trixie shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Do you think it says something negative about our relationship?”

Jim raised his brow.  Even Jupiter tossed his head and snorted in disbelief.  “Didn’t you just further scar my already wounded psyche by telling me you kept Dan—and I presume a specific part of his anatomy—up all night?”

Trixie giggled and nodded.  Her face, already flushed from the run, deepened to a more crimson color.

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your marriage just because you don’t call Dan ‘Schmoopy’.”

“Hmm ... Schmoopy.  I don’t think I’ve tried that one yet.”

Jim pointed at her and gave her his imperious headmaster stare.  “Don’t even think about it.  I’ll have you excommunicated from the Bob-Whites.”

Trixie stepped closer and allowed Jupiter to nuzzle her, presumably searching to see if she had any sugar cubes stashed in her sweatpants.  She scratched his neck thoughtfully.  “Honey calls Brian ‘darling’.  Mart calls Sally ‘love’.  Tad calls Diana ‘kitten’.  Dan comes up with a new nickname for me every half hour.  Why can’t I come up with just one for him?”

“You’re just not a nickname kind of person, Trix.  Seriously, what did you call me when we were dating?”

“Jim.”

“And what do you call your best friend?”

“Honey,” Trixie replied with a resigned sigh.

“And Brian?  Do you call him Doc or anything like that?”

“No.  Brian.”

“And what do you call Mart?”

Trixie smiled impishly at him.  Jim’s burst of laughter was so loud and abrupt that it spooked Jupiter and sent Trixie skittering back a few steps before her sneakered toes could get stomped on.  Jim had to take a moment to get his mount settled again before he could respond to Trixie’s unspoken wit.

“Those aren’t nicknames,” he scolded with a grin.

“All right, I’m not a nickname kind of girl.  I suppose you’re right.”  She scowled fondly at him.  “Again.”

“One of these days, you’ll realize that I’m always right, Shamus—oops, I mean Trixie.”

Trixie smiled brightly at him.  “You may call me Shamus.  Anytime you want.”

Jupiter was starting to paw the ground, champing at the bit to get going again.  Jim soothed him with a quiet whisper and stroke of his neck.  “I’m heading down to Lytell’s to get the Sunday paper for Regan.  Would you like me to drop you off at the farm on my way?”

“If you can loan me a little cash, I can go with you and pick up a paper for Dad.  Save him a trip.”

“Spending some extra time with my favorite girl sounds like it’s worth a buck or two.”  He smiled and held his hand out to her, pulling his foot out of the stirrup so she could hoist herself up behind him.

As she settled herself on Jupiter’s broad back, she mused, “I think this is the first time I’ve ridden Jupe in about, oh, ten years.”

Jim chuckled.  “I’m sure Dad would give you permission to ride him anytime you’re in town.  He’s mellowed a lot in his middle age.”

Trixie giggled.  “Jupe or your dad?”

As if offended by being called middle-aged, Jupiter gave a little hop-buck as Jim asked him to move out at a gentle walk.

Trixie squeaked and clutched Jim’s waist a little tighter.  “Thanks, but no.  I’ll stick with my sweet Susie, if you don’t mind.”

“So, do you want me to let you off?”

“Unless you’re driving the beast,” Trixie amended.  “Drive on, Jeeves.”

“That wasn’t, by any chance, a nickname, was it?”

“Hush!” she retorted, giving him a playful smack on the shoulder.

“Sorry ... Shamus.”

Trixie giggled.  “If you don’t stop, I’m going to buy a whole case of condoms at Lytell’s and leave you to discuss the horrors of that with the old goat.”

Jim groaned and made the motion of zipping his lip shut before urging Jupiter on down the wooded trail.

 

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Author's Notes

Part 3 (7,547 words)

Part 3 is for the JiXanny 10th Anniversary CWP.  The elements are:

• Chili.  With beans.  The only way to make it, in my humble opinion.  Mrs. Belden served it for dinner.
• A major redecorating/redesign project.  At Manor House.
• Staying up all night.  Tongue in cheek here, as Trixie kept Dan “up” all night (snicker).
• A new meeting place.  Dan and Trixie, as well as Peter and Helen, had to find a new rendezvous point.
• A dramatic event.  Hallie slapping Simon, or Hallie and Jim on the porch.  Take your pick!  They both surprised me!
• A village idiot.  Simon claims his father thought Mart was for doing a Polar Bear Swim in February.
• Mart in a bathing suit.  For the Polar Bear Swim, and no, it wasn’t a Speedo.
• A small event that grows unexpectedly large.  Dan and Trixie’s intimate weekend, which turns into a Crabapple Farm house party with all the BWGs and their significant others testing the stretchy walls theory.
• A retirement.  Captain Molinson is retiring!
• Movie night.  Dan brought Trixie home and she and Diana and Honey watched An Affair to Remember (I even made their movie night a Cary Grant movie night *g*)
• The book:  Any book from the Trixie Belden series.  Simon is the “mysterious visitor” at dinner.

Yes, I think An Affair to Remember is stupid and sappy.  Ugh.  But I got North by Northwest for Christmas.  Awesome!

Honey’s traumatic delivery of her son Matthew was chronicled in Chapter 25-The Runaway.

Seriously, I thought a long time ago that Jim and Hallie might consider pursuing something.  It didn’t happen and it didn’t happen, then Hallie kissed him in Chapter 24-Trespass but it wasn’t at all what I was expecting and not at all satisfying to me.  I had pretty much given up the idea and assumed I was wrong when they threw this at me.  Yeah, it caught me off guard (and made me a little hot!) and I still have no idea if it’ll continue beyond this.

Ronda taught me about “squick” but Dan came up with “squickifying” all by himself. (grin)

Peter and Helen have “met” in the boathouse before, back in Chapter 10-Come In.

Schmoopy is a term of endearment made popular on an episode of Seinfeld.

Hormel and Speedo are trademarked names and I’m not making any profit from their mention here.

Except for my created characters (Simon Drake, Sally Drake, Matthew Belden), all characters either belong to Random House (Trixie Belden) or Warner Brothers (West Wing) and are borrowed lovingly and with much respect.