Chapter 31
Good Hours

Part 4

June 1, 2001

“The big 2-5,” Dan teased, his arm flung around Mart’s shoulders.  “God, you’re old.”

“You’re 26,” Mart reminded him.

“Sure, but that’s not as bad as being a quarter of a century old,” Dan replied, forcing his voice into an ominously deeper range.

“You’re gonna be a lot of fun when I turn 40.”

“He’s paving the way for you,” Tad remarked as he strode across the loft and handed a beer to each of his friends.  “Just like you’ll pave the way for me, old man.”  Sinking down into his recliner, he popped the footrest up and stretched out, ready to watch a baseball game with his two best friends.

“Too bad the Mets were out of town this weekend,” Dan said.  “We could’ve taken you for your birthday.”

“Yeah, when my birthday rolls around, I want to go to a Cubs game,” Tad added.

“You want us to take you all the way to Chicago?” Mart asked.

“Naw.  They’re in Pittsburgh the week of my birthday.  We could go then.”

“All right,” Mart agreed.  “I’ll see if I can make it.”

His two friends both snorted.

“What?”

“You’ll see if Sally will let you come?” Tad asked, shaking his head in dismay.  “Whipped.”

“No joke,” Dan agreed.  “When I called to see if he could come down this weekend, I heard him ask her if it was okay.”

“That’s not being whipped,” Mart protested.  “That’s common courtesy.  I didn’t know what she had planned for my birthday.  It might’ve been something involving sex.  Or food.”  A glazed look came over his face as he added longingly, “Or both.”

“Dude!  Too much information!” Tad squawked, putting his hands over his ears.

“If you want to talk whipped, you certainly qualify, Webster.”

“What’re you talking about?”  Pointing a finger at each of his friends in turn, Tad said, “Married.  Engaged.  I, on the other hand, am a free agent.”

“Did you or did you not seek employment in the Windy City just so you could be with the fair Diana?” Mart asked.  “And did she or did she not abandon you a year later to come back to the Big Apple?  At which point, you promptly picked up and followed her like the whipped little lapdog you are.  You forget I dated Diana for three years.  I am well aware that she’s a force of nature not be trifled with.”

“I moved back to New York because I wanted to,” Tad insisted.

“Right,” Dan scoffed.  “By the way, where’s all your Bulls stuff?  Oh, that’s right.  Diana made you pack it all away, didn’t she?”

“I’ve still got my signed Michael Jordan poster hanging up.”

“In the closet,” Dan said dismissively.

“Whipped,” Mart squeaked in a falsetto voice.  “And you’re no better, Mangan.”

“Hey, I didn’t chase after Trixie.”

“Sure, but Diana was only gone six months, Trixie might be in Washington for three or four years.  And you’re all,” Mart stuck out his index fingers like imaginary six shooters and in a fair imitation of a 70’s gigolo said, “Hey, babe.  I’m there for you.  Follow your dream.  I’ll wait here for you, babe.  Because, babe, I love ya, babe.”

Grabbing the pillow Dan heaved at him, he leaned back against the couch and concluded, “Face it.  You two are totally whipped.  Whereas I have Sally on a tight leash.  She’s living with me in my house, waiting for me to say when we’re getting married.  Sweet, I tell ya.”

“Hello, Mart, my love.”

Mart scrambled to his feet, certain Sally had followed him to New York and entirely uncertain how he was going to get his foot out of his mouth this time.  He turned toward the door only to see Diana standing there with a mischievous smile on her face.

She crossed to Mart and gave him a quick peck on the lips.  “Happy Birthday, sweetie.  And since it’s your birthday, I won’t share with your fiancée what I just overheard.  Men,” she muttered with a scornful shake of her head as she disappeared into the bathroom.

Dan and Tad were both laughing at Mart’s momentary panic.  Trying to regain some of his dignity, Mart smirked and said, “Fine, fine.  Laugh it up.  But I had sex this morning with a beautiful woman and just got kissed by another beautiful woman, so ... bite me.”

Returning to his seat on the couch, he grinned wickedly at Tad and said, “You’re a lucky guy, Theodore.  Diana is a really, really good kisser.  Almost as good as Sally.  And since I’m the only one who’s kissed them both, I should know.”  He took a satisfying swig of his beer as Tad narrowed his eyes at him.

“He kissed Trixie, too,” Dan added nonchalantly, “so I guess he’s the expert.”

“What?” Tad asked, his dark eyes wide in horror.

“Don’t ask.  Anyway, I can at least agree that Di is a good kisser.”

This time it was both of his friends who uttered, “What?!”

Dan just smiled enigmatically and turned his attention back to the television.

July 6, 2001

Trixie stood at the threshold of the large screened-in porch, her hands on her hips and a good-natured scowl on her face.  “How did you all beat me here?  I live the closest to Rosewood Hall!”

Dan grabbed her wrist and pulled her down into his lap. “Yes, but you, dear wife, are allergic to time.”  After greeting her with a warm kiss, he asked, “Work?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”  But she had hesitated slightly before responding and the pinking of her cheeks on her typically horrible poker face told him she was fibbing.

“What got you distracted this time?” he teased.

Turning her head slightly to address her girlfriends, she said, “Tricia posted a new chapter in her mystery story.”

Hallie, Diana and Honey all brightened at the news.  “The one about the computer espionage and New York high society?” Honey asked.

“That’s the one.  I didn’t want to be an annoying nag but I sure was missing the updates on that story.  It’s great,” she assured her friends.  “Well worth waiting for and worth being a little late so I could read it before I left.”

“Well, Dan, it was bound to happen,” Jim sympathized.  “She’s finally put Lucy fanfiction ahead of you in importance.”

Dan snorted.  “I’ve taken a backseat to many a Lucy story.”  Leaning close to his wife’s ear, he whispered, “I don’t mind when they’re red star.  I like the way they inspire you.”

Trixie poked him and the flush returned to her freckled cheeks.  Changing the subject, she said, “Hallie, you got your hair cut!”

Hallie fingered her new style, cut about an inch above her shoulders and flaring out sassily.  “Yeah, Renee and I did it for Locks of Love.  It’s been strange having it so short but it’s definitely easier to take care of.  I’m getting used to it.”

“Well, it looks great and what a wonderful cause.” Taking another glance around the porch, she added, “Hey, at least I wasn’t the last one to arrive.  When are Mart and Sally getting here?”

“No, you are the last to arrive,” Jim said with a laugh.  “Mart and Tad are in the kitchen helping Mrs. Tavares with dinner.  Sally’s in the kitchen keeping Mart and Tad out of her way.”

“Good!  So now the party can start.  I’m so glad we were all able to get together this summer.  I’m just sorry I can’t stay longer.  I have to leave Sunday right after brunch.”

“It’s all right, Trixie,” Diana assured her.  “It was all kind of last minute thanks to that cancellation.”

“I’m not staying long, either,” Brian added.  “I have to leave Monday night.”

“And we’re all taking bets on whether or not Honey will join him,” Dan said.

Trixie frowned then grinned as the light went on in her head.  “This is the first time you’ve left Matthew, isn’t it?” she asked her best friend.

“For more than one night, yes,” Honey replied.  “And I’m not going home with Brian.  I’m fine.”

“Of course you are.  I want in on that bet and I say Honey stays.  Jim’s birthday is Wednesday and she’ll stay for that.  Besides, Matthew is with Moms and Dad.  Honey couldn’t ask for better sitters.  It’s not like she asked me to watch him.”

“Trixie,” Honey scolded with a giggle.  “I’d leave Matthew with you in a heartbeat.  You have lots of experience Bobby-sitting, after all.”

“Yes, and if you ask Bobby about my childcare skills, he’ll say, ‘I’m still alive,’” Trixie said dryly.

“High praise, indeed,” Mart said.

Her almost twin came onto the porch with a large tray of appetizers in his hands.  Tad followed with a pitcher each of iced tea and lemonade and Sally herded them both away from the kitchen, holding a tray of glasses and an ice bucket.

“Diana, that kitchen is amazing,” she enthused.

“It’s a marvel of modern manducatory mechanisms,” Mart agreed, setting the tray down on the coffee table and reaching for a cracker in one smooth motion.

“Daddy was really lucky to get Mrs. Tavares,” Diana told them.  “She’s Portuguese and an amazing chef.  Even the diehard southern ladies have accepted her.  But Rosewood has been renovated with complete 18th century historical accuracy and she insisted on a modern kitchen.  It was well worth the compromise to get her, Daddy says.”

“I’ll say,” Tad put in, setting the pitchers down on the large coffee table.  “This place is pretty much booked solid year-round.”

Diana stared pointedly at Trixie and Brian.  “So you Beldens with the horrible work schedules need to start thinking about next year now.  I want us all to spend a whole week here and we’ll have to book early.”

“Can we just think about this year right now?” Trixie pleaded, dipping a piece of bread into the hot spinach and artichoke dip.  “I have less than 48 hours to spend time with my friends and family and I’d rather spend it playing cards than planning vacations that are still a year away.”

“I think since we’re celebrating Di’s and my birthdays, we should get to win said card games,” Jim teased as he poured drinks and passed them to his friends.

“Dream on, Frayne,” Mart scoffed.  “You’re going down.”

“And your birthday’s not until Wednesday, anyway,” Hallie reminded him.

“Yes, but Diana has graciously agreed to share her birthday with me tomorrow so my best friend and my esteemed co-president will be here to celebrate it with me.”

Diana put her arm around Jim’s waist and fluttered her long black lashes at him.  “Does this make us almost twins, too?”

“If it does, then stop flirting with him,” Tad growled.  “One Mart and Trixie around here is enough.”

“What!?” Trixie yelped, nearly choking on a cracker.

Dan chuckled.  “I told him about that time Mart kissed you in grade school.”

“Highly disturbing, Belden,” Tad said with a shudder.

“Then why did you bring it up?” Mart snarked back, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

“Because I like to humiliate you.”  He dodged the olive Mart hurtled his way and added, “I told Steve, too.”

Mart collapsed onto a patio chair with a groan.  “Spider Webster knows?  That means the entire Westchester County police force knows.”

“And everybody I work with,” Tad added.  “Jarrell found it particularly amusing.  I think he’s passed the story on to his family.”

“You’ve become an urban legend, Mart,” Honey said with a giggle.

“Right there beside the Hook and Bloody Mary,” Brian teased.  “And almost as terrifying.”

July 11, 2001

“When Mr. Carver was forced to sell Rosewood, he made sure the family cemetery was on his side of the property line,” Jim told Hallie as they made their way across the vast lawn.  “But now that the Lynches own the property next door, it’s pretty much back to shared property.  Gerald tore down the fence, with Edgar’s permission, of course, and installed these walkways so visitors could come see the cemetery and mausoleum.”

“I imagine it’s pretty popular with history buffs,” Hallie commented. 

“If I remember correctly, there are stones dating back to the 18th century.  I’ve only been back to Cliveden once, when the Lynches opened up Rosewood Hall after the renovation.  I didn’t go down the cemetery then, so it’s my first time in about ten years, I guess.”

He swung open the wrought iron gate surrounding the burial plot and let Hallie go in ahead of him.

In stark contrast to the last time he had visited, the cemetery was now neatly mowed and looked inviting rather than eerie, with rows of colorful flowers surrounding the edges of the plot.  He and Hallie went their separate ways, looking at the headstones and occasionally calling out with comments on unusual names, clever epitaphs, or particularly interesting engravings.

After a few minutes, Jim moved to the mausoleum.  He went up the wide, marble steps and tried the door.  Unlike the last time he had been there, it opened smoothly and quietly and he stood in the doorway and peered into the darkness.

It looked much the same as when he and Trixie had explored it years ago, although definitely more well-kept.  He noted with a smile that whoever tended the crypt knew the story of Ruth Sunderland Fields and the locket she had hidden for her sister.  Though the rest of the room remained in symmetry—two benches, two candle sconces, two doors—only a single urn stood in one of the two matching niches high on the far wall.  The original had been broken in his fight with Neil that day and in keeping with the mystery of the emeralds, it was the only one that had been replaced.

He stepped back outside, blinking as his eyes readjusted to the bright light.  He saw Hallie on her knees by one of the flat gravestones, her fingers tracing lightly across the engraving.  He was about to call out and ask what she had found when he saw her bring her other hand up and dab at her eyes, as if wiping away tears.

One of the things he liked best about Hallie was her quiet sensitivity.  She had always been calm and matter-of-fact, much like her cousin Brian, but she had become more introspective since they were teenagers, possibly because of her failed marriage.

He and Hallie were both good listeners but not good talkers.  They kept a lot locked up inside without most people being aware of it.  There was a silent sense of, “I know what you’re going through” between them that made him comfortable around her.

Comfortable.

There was that word again.  He wanted peace and stability in his life.  He didn’t want anybody prying into his past.  Try as he might, he couldn’t escape it himself but he didn’t want anybody else there, either.

It was something he and Hallie had in common.  But not necessarily something positive.

They had gone out on a handful of dates this past winter and spring.  Always casual, always enjoyable, never exclusive.  They hadn’t slept together and only once or twice had they gone beyond a chaste goodnight kiss.  Part of him wanted more but part of him had a feeling it was never going to happen.  And that it wasn’t him but rather Hallie who was holding back.

As she stood and brushed grass off her bare legs, he shook himself out of his thoughts and went to meet her.  “Find something interesting?”

She nodded absently, her gaze drifting down to the row of small, flat stones and back to him.  Jim noted that the light in her eyes was dim as she asked, “Can you keep a secret?”

Jim frowned and nodded.

“I mean … really keep a secret?  You won’t tell Brian?  Or Honey or Joanne or … anybody?”

“Of course not,” he replied.  He smiled reassuringly and reached out to give her hand an encouraging squeeze.

August 5, 2001

“Hi, Honey,” India greeted as she came into the Gramercy Park apartment.  “Happy Birthday!”

“Thank you, India.  And thank you for coming.  I’m so glad you were available. You’re Matthew’s favorite babysitter, you know.”

“Inee!” the toddler cried as he came rushing forward, throwing his arms around India’s legs and giving her a big hug.

India swung him up into her arms and gave him a kiss.  “Hey, Matty the cool catty!”

Honey sniffed elegantly.  “More like Matty the bratty.  He’s not two yet but he’s sure been acting like it lately.”

“Then you definitely need this night out,” India said.  “Where’s Brian?”

“At the hospital, I guess,” Honey said with a resigned sigh.  “He took his jacket and tie with him in case he was running late.  I guess I’ll be meeting him at the restaurant.  Luckily, my parents are joining us, so at least I won’t get completely stood up if he doesn’t show.”

“He’ll make it,” India said confidently.  “It’s your birthday.”

“Burfday cake!” Matty announced excitedly.

“Diana and I went to lunch and she got me a cake.  Matty can have a piece after dinner.  And he has to eat all his trees.”

“Trees?” India queried.

“That’s what he calls broccoli.”  She leaned to her son to give him a kiss and said sternly, “He has to eat all of his dinner before he can have cake.  Help yourself to anything in the fridge, the number of the restaurant is by the phone, and you have my cell phone number, of course.”

The front door of the apartment flew open and Brian burst in, his tie askew, hair disheveled.  He strode briskly through the foyer, breathing hard.

“Brian!” Honey exclaimed.  “Did you run from the hospital?”

“No,” he replied, stopping to straighten his tie and smooth his hands over his jacket.  He glanced into the mirror hanging on the wall above the hall table and raked his fingers through his hair.  He came to his wife’s side and gave her a kiss before greeting India and ruffling his son’s hair affectionately.  “I just ran up the hallway.  I took a cab here and it’s waiting for us downstairs.”

Honey smiled indulgently.  “You could’ve just met us at the restaurant.”

“Well, now, that wouldn’t have been the gentlemanly way to treat the birthday girl,” he answered with a grin.  “Dr. Erikson has promised to cover for me for a few hours, so…”  He took his pager off his belt and handed it to India.  “…I’m not even going to take my pager.”

Honey’s eyes widened and she gave India an incredulous glance.  “Are you sure?” she asked her husband.

He hesitated but then said assuredly, “Yes.  They said they’d only call if it was an absolute emergency.”

“You work in the emergency room,” India said.  “Isn’t everything an emergency?”

Brian looked at the pager for a moment.  “Yeah, maybe I should take it.”

Honey sighed and went down the hall to get her purse off the hall table.

“If they’re not going to call, then you don’t need to take it,” India scolded, taking a step back and putting the pager out of Brian’s reach.

“You’re right, you’re right.”  He glanced at Honey, who was waiting patiently by the front door for him, her expression mildly distraught.  “But if it’s really an emergency…”

“I’ll call you if it goes off,” India promised.

Appeased, Brian turned to go.  Behind his back, India shook her head and mouthed to Honey, “No, I won’t.”

Honey put her hand to her mouth to smother a giggle.

September 10, 2001

“Happy Birthday,” Diana purred.

Tad grinned and took a hasty look around him.  He recognized the tone in his girlfriend’s voice and it wasn’t suitable for being overheard by any of his coworkers.

He turned his back to the aisle outside his cubicle and pressed the receiver a little closer to his ear and mouth.

“How do you manage to make two words sound so dirty?” he teased.

“Tadster, the number of innocent words I can turn into dirty ones would make your head spin.”

“I’ll bet,” he murmured.  He glanced over his shoulder, lowered his voice and said, “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

“What I’m wearing now isn’t important.  It’s what I’ll be wearing at dinner tonight that counts.”

“And that will be?”

“A very sexy dress,” she answered simply.

“Low cut in front?”

“Not particularly.”

“Backless?”

“No.”

Tad sulked.  “That doesn’t sound like a very sexy dress.”

“When you try to imagine what I’m wearing underneath, I’m quite sure you’ll find it the most provocative dress I’ve ever worn.”

Tad swallowed hard, reached down to his lap and adjusted himself.  He sincerely hoped his company didn’t monitor phone calls and made a mental reminder to have Diana call him on his cell phone from now on.

He cleared his throat to stave off the cracking and asked, “What will you be wearing underneath the dress?”

“The sluttiest lingerie you’ve ever seen.”  She paused before adding in a breathy whisper, “Ever.”

“Can we skip dinner?” he asked hopefully.

“Certainly not.  I chose this particular restaurant because it features floor-length tablecloths.  You do remember how long my legs are right?  And how … nimble my toes are?”

Tad nodded, momentarily speechless.  That was one Thanksgiving dinner he’d never forget.

“And afterward, I thought we’d take a hansom cab ride through Central Park.”

“Gee, how many ways can you think of to put off having sex, Di?”

“It’ll be dark,” she continued pointedly.  “And for fifty bucks, I’ll bet the cabbie will be happy to ignore what’s going on behind him.  I’ll even use Daddy’s money.”

Tad adjusted his all-too-tight slacks again and dabbed his forehead with his palm, wondering when it had gotten so hot in the office.

“For fifty more bucks, I’ll bet we can get him to watch,” he croaked.

“Tad!” Diana squealed.  “Don’t ruin it!  That’s nasty.”

“The cabbie, not your father!”

“Oh.”  She burst into laughter and Tad did, too, the spell broken.

“Diana, I’ve got three more hours before my work day is over.  I’m sure I’ll spend at least two hours and 55 minutes thinking about tonight.  Thank you for making my birthday so naughty.”

“I love you, Tad.  See you in a few hours.”

As Tad replaced the receiver in the cradle, he heard a low-pitched voice behind him.

“Who’s making your birthday so naughty?  Your girlfriend, I hope.”

Tad turned to greet his colleague.  Jarrell Prather had his arms crossed over his chest and was trying to give Tad an authoritative glare in the manner their supervisor would.  But the sparkle in his dark eyes gave him away.

“Jay,” Tad said, “would I be making $2.99-a-minute calls on the office phone?  I’m not as dumb as you are.”

“Teo, if you’d ever make those calls, you would be dumber than me.  You don’t need to be calling 1-900-LICK-ME when you’ve got that luscious beauty at home to talk dirty to you.”

Tad gave him a friendly snarl.  “Keep your filthy thoughts off my girlfriend.”

Jarrell chuckled and relaxed his stance.  “Drinks tonight?”

“How about a rain check later this week?  I’ve already got plans for tonight,” Tad replied with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

“Any reason I can’t watch?  You don’t even have to pay me.”

“Get outta here!” Tad laughed, reaching for his ringing phone.

It was going to be a great 25th birthday celebration.

 

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Author's Notes

Part 4 (3,916)
Total Word Count Chapter 31 (14,499)

The Mets really were out of town (at Florida Marlins) the weekend of Mart’s birthday in 2001.  And I guessed on their schedule for Tad’s birthday (September 10 in my uni) as MLB was suspended for one week due to 9/11 that year.  They played the Pirates in Pittsburgh September 17-19.

So, when did Dan kiss Diana?  I'm not sure, though Trixie also said something hinting at this in Chapter 22-The Trial by Existence, Part 5.

Mr. Lynch was making plans to purchase Rosewood Hall at the conclusion of Emeralds.  In this uni, he’s turned it into a charming bed and breakfast.  

Hallie got her hair cut for no important plot reason for this story.  I just really liked this picture of Catherine Zeta-Jones (from Ocean's 12) with short hair.  I'm all for promoting Locks of Love though.

I was afraid maybe my dear evil twin wouldn’t post more of her Undercover Angel uni until her June 26 Jixaversary and Trixie’s comment about Lucy fanfic was to be a little nudge for her (grin).  Luckily, after a visit from Marnie, Trish kept her promise to post more of this wonderful story Memorial Day weekend.  I'm hoping we'll see even more next week!

Mart really did kiss Trixie in grade school, as revealed in Chapter 15-The Courage to Be New.

Spider Webster’s given name is not canon, just my spin on it.

My late grandfather used to give his grandkids rhyming nicknames.  My cousins were Matt the Brat and Daniel the Cocker Spaniel, my brother was Mike the Fright, and my sister was Jill the Pill.  Luckily, nothing much rhymes with Bonnie (grin).  But deciding he didn’t want to be negative, he also called them Matt the Cool Cat, Dan the Man (hey, that sounds familiar!), Mike the Delight, and Jill the Thrill.

My friend’s son calls broccoli trees.  I’m sure he’s not the first child to do so but it always cracks me up.

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