Chapter 31
Good Hours

Part 2

December 24, 2000

“I can’t believe I’m spending Christmas Eve with you.”

“Gee, thanks.  I love you, too, man.”

Aidan chuckled and took a sip of his steaming coffee.  “I’m surprised you’re not the one complaining.  After all, spending Christmas Eve with your wife would be a hell of a lot more enjoyable than working a double shift with me.”

“Damn straight,” Dan agreed wholeheartedly.  “She’s better looking, too.  Anyway, Trixie and I already had our Christmas.  And we got to be together Christmas and New Year’s last year, so I guess I can’t complain.”

“I can,” Aidan grumbled.  “My family’s having roast lamb and all the fixings and I’m having a greasy burger.”

“Well, let me pay then,” Dan said as he pulled out his wallet, giving a smile and a nod of thanks to the waitress who dropped off two bags of burgers and fries at the front register for them.

“Not the same thing.”

“Fine.  Buy your own.”

“Hey, if you’re paying then I’m accepting.  I’m just saying ... I had counted on you filling in for me like I filled in for your last spring and here you are, working anyway.”

“I thought you said friends don’t owe friends?” Dan kidded.

“Except at Christmas,” Aidan amended.  He took the bag Dan handed to him and immediately reached in to grab a handful of fries.  Rolling his eyes, he said, “Seriously?  Stale fries instead of mashed potatoes and gravy?  Could it suck any more?”

“Sure.  You could be one of the drunks we’ll have to haul in tonight.  Cheer up, O’Callaghan.  Maybe Santa will visit us while we’re on the beat.”

“Real Santa or Drunk Santa?” Aidan chuckled.  “Because I’m not sure I want whatever present Drunk Santa’s gonna offer me.”

December 31, 2000

“Are you reflecting on a good year or waiting to kick its butt out the door?”

Hallie gave Jim a clean bowl to dry and returned her hands to the sudsy water.  “A little of both, I guess.  I’ve had worse years.”  The muffled snort from Jim had her flushing in embarrassment.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean—”

“No, don’t worry about it.  I know you weren’t referring to what happened between you and me this spring.”

In silence, they continued to wash and dry empty popcorn bowls and soda glasses.  The boys who had stayed at Winthrop over the holiday break were in the rec room of the school watching a movie while Mart and Sally chaperoned.

Finally, Jim cleared his throat and spoke.  “Well, I’ll have to consider 2000 a good year.  I had what you might call a breakthrough with my therapist during my last session.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  We’ve been talking about my relationships with women and what was happening to ... well, sabotage them, I guess you’d say.”

Hallie handed him another glass to dry and stopped her washing to give him her full attention.

“Dr. Keyworth made me realize how I seem to have gotten myself stuck in this rut of protecting women.  Renee was hurting from the troubles with her dad and her mother’s death.  You and your divorce—or maybe it was Simon I was rescuing you from.  Even my friendship with Jo is based on the fact that we met because I was there to rescue her.  And, of course, it all goes back to Trixie.  I had to rescue her more times than I can count.”

Hallie dipped her head to try and hide a grin but wasn’t successful.

“What?” Jim asked.

“Please don’t tell me this was your breakthrough.  You could’ve saved yourself thousands of dollars by asking anybody around you if you’re overprotective.”

Jim chuckled and flicked the towel at her.  “No, smarty, that wasn’t the revelation.”

“So, this is about Trixie?” Hallie asked with a frown as she turned back to the sink.  “You’re still regretting that loss and trying to find someone you can rescue?”

Was Jim simply looking for a replacement for Trixie?  Was her failure to be just like her cousin the reason it didn’t work out with him?  Was there more to it than simply her own issues?

“I guess that’s what I thought, too, but no ... not exactly.  Trixie wasn’t the cause, she was just another symptom.”

Before Hallie could probe further, the swinging door to the dining room opened up and Cade Garrett poked his head in.  “Mr. Frayne, Miss Belden, it’s almost midnight.  Are you coming to watch the ball drop?”

“We’ll be right there, Cade,” Jim assured the teenage boy.

Cade left to return to the rec room.  Hallie watched Jim as he neatly folded the towel he had been using and laid it on the counter, keeping his eyes carefully averted from hers.

“So, anyway, my prescription is to try to go out on casual dates that don’t involve a need to be the savior.  Jo will be pleased, since she’s been trying to get me to simply ‘have fun’ for a couple of years now.”

Hallie nodded thoughtfully.  It wouldn’t hurt her to take the same advice.  She was far too young to be so serious about life and love.  And since she wasn’t interested in anything serious, anyway, having fun was an acceptable alternative ... certainly more acceptable than moping around by herself.

She looked up, surprised to see Jim staring intently at her.  “What?”

He hesitated before saying, “Baby steps.  Dating a complete stranger is more adventure than I want to have at the moment, and you and I have already discussed the limited opportunities here in Indian Lake.”  Holding up one hand to ward off her argument, he continued, “I’m not trying to be your knight.  I don’t have Simon tormenting you as an excuse to come riding to your rescue.  You seem settled and content and you don’t want anything serious.  I guess I’m not supposed to want anything serious for a while, either.  I’m not asking you to go to bed with me, Hallie.  I just want to know if you want to go out on one date ... just for fun.”

Though his tone was casual, Jim looked almost terrified by what her response might be.  It wasn’t an emotion she was used to seeing in the strong, independent redhead.  And suddenly, her own wounded heart saw the value in reaching out to another.

From the rec room, the raised voices of a handful of boys could be heard, counting down to the New Year.

“10 ... 9 ... 8...7…”

She took a step forward and without giving him—or herself—any time to think about it, slid one arm around his waist and kissed him.  A fraction of a second later he responded, slipping his arms around her and returning her kiss.

Muffled shouts of “Happy New Year!” and the blowing of paper horns could be heard from the rec room.

The kiss was light and brief, not at all like the unexpectedly intense one they had shared on the porch of Crabapple Farm almost a year ago.

It was fun.

They broke apart and smiled, their arms still around each other.

“Happy New Year,” Hallie said.

“Happy New Year.”  Jim paused before widening his grin and asking, “What was that all about?”

Hallie casually lifted one shoulder and replied, “Aren’t you supposed to kiss somebody when the New Year rolls in?”

“You understand I’m not asking you for anything more than you want to give?”

“I know.  It was just a kiss.  It’ll be just a date.”

“Okay, then.”

She could see him visibly relax and although she hadn’t been aware of just how tense she was herself, she felt her body loosen up as he smiled at her.

January 6, 2001

“Good morning, Mrs. Landingham, Charlie,” Trixie greeted.  She wasn’t dressed for work and managed to catch both of them slightly off guard as she came into the office with a tall, handsome young man.

“This must be one of your brothers,” Mrs. Landingham said.  “He looks just like you, Beatrix.”

“Beatrix?” Bobby chortled.  He almost burst into laughter before Trixie elbowed him in the stomach.

“Bobby, this is Mrs. Landingham, President Bartlet’s secretary and Charlie Young, his personal aide,” she introduced.  “This is my little brother, Bobby.”

Charlie shook Bobby’s hand and raised his brow as he stared up at the broad-shouldered six-foot tall teenager.  “Your little brother?” he said dubiously.  “A’right.”

“Bobby’s 17th birthday was yesterday and he asked if I could give him a tour of the White House as his present.  Moms and Dad sent him down on the train this morning and I get to Bobby-sit this weekend,” Trixie teased, linking her arm in his.

“As if I need a bobby—babysitter,” Bobby scoffed.

“The President is in a meeting with his senior staff right now,” Charlie informed them.

“Not a problem.  Bobby’s getting to see more of the White House than most people do.  If we don’t make it into the Oval, he’ll live.”

Bobby politely nodded his agreement, though his expression was obviously disappointed.

“Here, dear, have a cookie,” Mrs. Landingham offered to soften the blow.  “They’re President Bartlet’s favorite.”

Whether it was the idea of eating the same cookies the President ate or simply the offer of food—he was a Belden, after all—Bobby’s expression brightened considerably as he took a frosted sugar cookie from the glass jar on Mrs. Landingham’s desk.

Trixie directed him to the adjoining Mural Room and they spent some time admiring the beautiful artwork.  Bobby looked suitably impressed as Trixie told him the history of the room and named several American and international politicians and even royalty who had been received there.

Her keenly trained ear heard the door to the Oval Office open in the room behind her and she recognized the voices of key staff members as they left to return to their own offices.  Bobby’s focus was on the image of Niagara Falls on the far wall of the Mural Room.  Trixie watched him attentively, eagerly anticipating his reaction to what was about to happen.

“‘Scenes of North America’, first printed in 1834 by Jean Zuber et Cie,” the commanding voice boomed from the doorway, his hand sweeping the room to take in the colorfully decorated walls of the Mural Room.

Trixie suppressed her laughter as her younger brother jumped and spun around, his blue eyes wide.

“Beatrix,” President Bartlet greeted, giving Trixie a fatherly peck on the cheek.  “I heard your little brother is visiting this weekend but this strapping young lad can’t possibly be your little brother, can he?”

Bobby seemed anchored to his spot across the room, his mouth hung open in astonishment.  Trixie giggled and waved him over and he shook the President’s hand, still speechless.

“There are 32 different scenes on the walls of this room,” President Bartlet tutored.  “They were based on engravings from the 1820s showing American landscapes that were particularly admired by Europeans, such as Niagara Falls and Boston Harbor.  Ironically, they were created by a man who never set foot in North America.”

Bobby nodded wordlessly.

“Of course, it’s heavily biased toward the Eastern United States but as I’m a New Hampshire man, that’s perfectly acceptable to me.”  Taking Bobby by the arm, he led him to the scene of New York Bay.  “And you’re a New York man, so this scene may look familiar to you.  Or perhaps not, since it was based on surroundings 150 years before you were born and I can only speculate that things may have changed some since then.”

Bobby finally managed to choke out a few words.  “Yes, sir ... Mr. President ... sir.”

President Bartlet chuckled and patted him on the shoulder.  Turning to Trixie, he said, “I regret that I can’t give your brother a personal tour of my humble office but Leo assures me that whatever’s going on in the Situation Room is more important.  I’d argue with him if I could.”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” Trixie said.

“Robert,” President Bartlet said as he shook Bobby’s hand in farewell.

When the Beldens were alone again, all Bobby had to offer was a hoarse, “Wow.  This is like the coolest birthday ever.”

January 22, 2001

“What?”

“What?  That’s how you answer the phone?  On your birthday?”

Joanne smiled in spite of herself.  “Careful, Frayne, you’re starting to sound as pushy as me.”

“Well, I’m not the only one who needs a butt-kicking now and then.  Why so glum on your birthday?”

“Well, first off, it’s Monday.  Not everybody greets the work week as cheerfully as you do, freak.  I’ve got the winter blahs and I’m stressing over my law school applications.  I’m not my usual perky self.”

She heard a blasting spurt of air and liquid as Jim apparently spewed whatever he was drinking all over his phone.  “Perky?” he squawked.

“You don’t think I’m perky?”

“I’m sorry.  I associate perky with cheerleaders and Pollyanna and my sweet sister.  Not you.”

“Bite me, jackass.”

“Yeah, see, that’s more like you.”

“You’re not exactly Little Mary Sunshine yourself.  Why are you so chipper this morning, anyway?  Get laid this weekend?”

Ignoring her crass question, he replied with one of his own.  “Are you ever going to grow up and start acting like a lady?”

“Ladies don’t make good lawyers.  Bitches do.”

“You’re fouler than usual this morning, Jo.  What can I do to make your birthday a little more light-hearted and sunny?  Would treating you to breakfast do the trick?”

Jo snorted.  “You want to meet halfway between Indian Lake and Ann Arbor?  Where would that be?  Akron?  By the time we both got there, you’d be treating me to lunch.”

“Fredonia, New York is the halfway point, actually.”

“Oh cripes, are you actually in Fredonia right now waiting for me?”

“No.”

He said nothing more and Jo was just about to press him when she heard a knock at the front door.  She raised one eyebrow and stared that way suspiciously, then looked at the phone, waiting for Jim to speak again.

The phone was silent but there was another knock at the door.

“Joanne?”

“What?” she asked, quieter and more warily than her initial greeting.

“Are you going to let me in?  It’s kind of cold out here.”

She tried to twist her mouth into a sardonic smirk but there would be no mistaking the sparkle in her eyes as she answered the door and found her favorite redhead on the front stoop, coffee cup in hand.

“Happy Birthday,” he greeted.

“Just happened to be in the neighborhood?”

“Sort of.  Detroit.  Wheeler International business for Dad.”

Feigning a scowl, she crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Wrong answer.  You’re supposed to say yes, you traveled all this way just to see me on my birthday.  And then you give me a present, preferably something expensive and glittery.”

Without missing a beat, Jim echoed, “Yes, I traveled all this way just to see you on your birthday.”  He pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket and handed it to her.

“It’s not jewelry,” she commented dryly as she opened it and pulled out a piece of paper.  “What is this?  A homemade voucher for one free week of doing my chores?”

Jim rolled his eyes.  “Must you complain about everything, Darnell?  You’re going to be doing a lot of traveling this spring while you decide which law school you want to go to.  I thought I’d make it a little easier on you and give you some of my frequent flier miles.  That should be enough for two or three round trips, unless you’re thinking of going to law school in Bangkok.”

Jo’s family didn’t have a lot of money.  She had a partial scholarship that had made it possible for her to attend the University of Michigan but she had also worked part-time during school and full-time in the summers to help her parents pay for the remainder of the pricey, out-of-state tuition.  They got by without a major struggle, but there were three more Darnell siblings to put through school and Jo did what she could not to monopolize the college funds.

Now she pressed her lips together to keep from getting emotional.  She would’ve stubbornly stood there until she had regained her cool facade but Jim knew her too well.  He took her into his arms for a warm hug and kissed her on top of her head.  “Happy Birthday.”

As she sniffed back a tear, she muttered, “A diamond bracelet would’ve killed you?”

February 14, 2001

Sally stepped inside the house, stomped the snow off her shoes and dropped her bag by the front door.  Frowning slightly, she noticed all was dark on the first floor but for a dim light above the stove.  A quick sniff told her dinner preparations were not in progress.

“Mart?”

There was no answer so she called again, more loudly this time.

When only the echo of her voice was returned, she went to the garage door and peeked out.  Her red SUV was right where she had left it that morning, preferring to walk up to the school for the day.  Mart’s old clunker, Millie, was parked right next to it.

She closed the door and made her way up the stairs.  “Mart?” she called again.

“In the bathroom,” came his mumbled reply.

“Are you studying in the bathroom?” she asked in bewilderment.  The door was closed and only a faint crack of light could be seen near the floor.

When he didn’t answer, she added teasingly, “You didn’t go the all-you-can-eat Mexican buffet for lunch, did you?  I’m not sleeping with you tonight if you did.  That’s definitely not my idea of Valentine’s romance.”

“Valentine’s Day?”  His voice sounded shocked but deliberately so, as if he were trying to convince her he had forgotten the holiday in all the stress of his studies.

As she opened the bathroom door, she saw that the glow of light was from candles of various sizes set out on seemingly every flat surface of the bathroom except the floor.  Rose petals were scattered along the ledge surrounding the large garden tub and Mart himself was immersed in a tubful of bubbles with only his head and upper torso sticking out.  He had a nearly empty wine glass in one hand.  A second glass and the bottle of wine sat on the ledge on the far side of the tub.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, an impish smile splashed across his freckled face.  “Could you refill my glass, please?”

Picking up the bottle, Sally crossed to him.  As she poured the wine she asked dryly, “Had a rough day, did you?”

“Very.  I haven’t seen or talked to you in about 12 hours.”  He reached out a dripping hand to caress her hip and thigh.  “How about you?  Did you have a day that warrants a soak in the tub?”

“Possibly,” she replied as Mart’s nimble fingers found the zipper on the side of her skirt and pulled it down.  She wriggled out of it and began unbuttoning her blouse.

“Before you get all nekkid and hop into the tub, could you get me one more thing?”

“Cheese and crackers?”

“Food isn’t what I’m hungry for at the moment,” Mart replied lasciviously.  “No, I need that.”

Sally followed the direction of his pointed finger to the sink and a small black jewelry box.  She picked it up and turned back to face him, a coy smile on her pretty face.  “Is this for me?”

“Maybe.  Give it here.” 

Instead, she leaned back against the counter, clad only in her underclothing and fingered the lid of the box.  “If it’s for me, why should I give it to you?”

Mart snapped his fingers impatiently, his blue eyes twinkling.  “Just give me the box, woman.”

Instead, Sally placed it on the counter and leisurely shed the remainder of her clothing, enjoying the way her fiancé’s jaw dropped appreciatively.  She picked the box back up and moved to the side of the tub.  Holding it just out of Mart’s line of vision, she giggled as he fumbled for it without taking his eyes off her naked body.

Once she was settled in the tub facing him, he said, “You’ve been a really good sport about my little idiosyncrasy.”

“And which of your many idiosyncrasies would you be referring to?” she teased.

Mart smirked and splashed a handful of bubbles her way.  “The one about me wanting to wait until I finish school before we get married and have kids.”  Pulling her a little closer, he explained.  “My parents got married when they were in their early 20’s.  My mother quit college when she got pregnant with Brian, then I came along a year and a half later and Trixie right after that and Moms never got around to going back to school.  Because she was home with three little kids, my dad worked like a dog so she wouldn’t have to have a job outside the home.  It seems like he was never around much when we were little.  He was always working late or out of town on a business trip or something.

“And now Brian and Honey are practically going through the same thing.  I know Brian hardly gets to spend any time with his son because of the demands of his residency.  And I don’t want you working extra hard to support us because I’m busy with school.  I don’t want to be at the library with my head buried in a book when our baby’s taking his first steps.  I don’t want our kids going all ‘Cat’s in the Cradle’ on me, you know?

“But, I also want you to know how grateful I am for your patience and that I’m totally on board with having a large family.  So...”  He handed her the box.

Sally opened it and found a tear-shaped silver pendant with a tree on it.  Its branches stretched out to the edges and on the bottom of the charm it said “Belden.”

“It’s a family tree,” Mart said.  “You put the birthstones of your children on the branches, like leaves.  There’s room for six.  I thought that was a good number.  I wanna outdo both our families, you know.”

Sally chuckled, her finger tracing the branches of the tree as she imagined it glittering with different colored gems.

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Author's Notes

Part 2 (3,740 words)

Dr. Keyworth first appeared as Jim's therapist in Chapter 22-The Trial By Existence.  He was created by Aaron Sorkin for The West Wing and is being borrowed lovingly and with great respect.

The room known as the Mural Room next to the Oval Office’s outer chamber in The West Wing is probably based on the Diplomatic Reception Room at the real White House.  Jacqueline Kennedy had the wallpaper President Bartlet describes installed in 1961 and there are several pictures of the room here.  A history of the wallpaper can be found here and here is a photo of The West Wing’s version of the Mural Room., 

Mrs. Landingham, Charlie Young and President Bartlet belong to Warner Brothers and Aaron Sorkin and are borrowed lovingly and with great respect.

Now you know why Mart is not as eager to get married as Brian and Trixie were.  “Cat’s in the Cradle” is a depressing song by Harry Chapin about a father who never finds time for his son because of the busyness of life and ends up estranged from his child.  

Background tile is from Silvia Hartmann Site.