Usual disclaimers: I don't own these characters, I only take them out of their boxes, dust them off, and play with them every now and again. No money is being earned.
Prologue
Barbara Hubble stared at the stupid blue line in frustration. Her plan hinged on a stupid blue plus symbol and it just wasn't working! Her window of time was quickly passing and she had better get pregnant soon. She was due to meet Brian Belden in two weeks at a military ball.
Madeline Wheeler was going to rue the day their paths crossed.
Her plan was simple. If she could seduce him, she'd run with that. But in the event Brian wasn't interested, she'd invite him out for a drink, slip him an Ambien, and simply wake up next to him. Naked and pregnant. She was going to marry Brian Belden if it was the last thing she did.
Stupid little "Bob-Whites" coming to her town with their superior skating skills. Or Trixie catching the eye of the only cute boy in town. Or completely ignoring her own sewing skills while bragging on how Honey had sewn their jackets and embroidered them.
Perfect was so perfectly annoying.
She shared at the blue negative for a long time before deciding she would just have to improvise.
Late August
Twenty-two year old Trixie Belden wrinkled her nose when she got the wedding invitation in the mail. Brian? Getting married? To Barb Hubble? Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, she thought.
She pinched herself to make sure but nope. The words still said the same thing.
"You can't read when you're sleeping," Di Lynch said to her, grinning.
Di and Trixie were still wondering how Brian and Barb had met up after all these years when Honey burst into the living room of the condo they all shared.
"I need a date!" Honey said, her wide hazel eyes frantic with worry. Anxiety flowed off her slim form in waves, catching them all up in her panic.
"Tonight?" Trixie said, bewildered.
"No," Honey wailed. She went into the kitchen, her movements frantic. "I need a cup of tea," she announced to no one in particular.
"For the wedding, doofus," Di said with a smirk. "Brian's wedding," she clarified.
"Holy crapizoli," Trixie muttered. "I need a date, too!"
"Just figured that out, huh, Freckles?" Dan asked as he arrived on Honey's heels.
"Be my date?" Trixie asked, imploringly.
"No," Honey said, frantic. "He has to be my date!"
Dan's dark eyes opened in shock. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted.
"Isn't this an interesting development," Mart chimed in. "Once more Dan gets all the girls."
Dan shot him a dark look and a rude finger gesture that the girls chose to ignore.
"Oh good grief," Trixie muttered. "Who else is going to show up? Now all we need are Jim and Brian to make this a true Bob-White reunion." Please, please, please do NOT let Brian and Jim show up, she prayed quietly. She had been very good at avoiding face to face time with Jim these last four years and she was not looking forward to the Bob-White reunion. Not after the fool she'd made of herself after high school graduation.
"No!" Honey yelled again. "No Brian," she said a little more calmly, coming back into the living room with a china cup of tea. She eyed Dan shrewdly. "Dan, I think you'll do just fine. Could you start lifting weights again? Maybe? Bulk up a little? We have like three weeks. I'm sure you could build some muscle in that time."
"Mayhap Maypenney has some wood in need of Dan's mad wood chopping skills?" Mart suggested, snuggling next to Di.
Dan opened his mouth to respond only to be interrupted by Trixie. "No, c'mon, Honey. You know I completely embarrassed myself after graduation. I need a date."
Honey's eyes narrowed with intent. "It's my ex-boyfriend getting married, Trix. I have to win."
"Win?" Trixie stubbornly refused to understand what Honey meant.
"Yeah, you know. Look stunning, show up with a hot date, laugh heartily, and make him regret the day he told me he wasn't ready for a long distance relationship."
"You don't need a date to be beautiful," Di said, standing to give Honey a hug.
Trixie shrugged helplessly. "I'm so sorry, Honey. I know he hurt you but I know it wasn't easy on him, either. Corpsman training was long and then he was off in every hot spot in the last ten years."
"Well, he found the time to meet and marry Barb Hubble, didn't he?"
The girls shared a look, acknowledging the murkiness of their situation.
"Sorry, Trix, Honey wins," Di agreed. "She can't show up to the wedding without a majorly hot date."
"We don't have one of those," Mart pointed out with a smirk. "All we have is a Dan." Dan rolled his eyes but remained silent.
Mart turned to his friend. "Looks like you'll be back on wood chopping duty," he said, gleefully. "So, Officer Dan, when you finally make Lieutenant, can I start calling you Lieutenant Dan?" he asked, referencing the movie Forrest Gump.
"Only if I can arrest you every time you call me that," Dan said.
"You're no fun," Mart accused, good naturedly.
"We'll have to go shopping," Di said. "New dresses for everyone."
A piercing bob-white whistle split the air. Everyone turned to look at Dan.
"Okay. Thanks. And thanks for the attention and being everyone's go-to plus one, but didn't anyone think I might have my own date?" He didn't, but their assumption of his singlehood deserved some push back.
"Not really," Mart said.
"Oh," Honey said glumly.
"Who?" Trixie demanded.
"Ned Schulz," Honey exclaimed.
"Dan is dating Ned Schulz?" Di asked.
Dan opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Mart's snort of laughter. He sighed and resigned himself to the collective craziness of his friends.
"No. Trixie can ask Ned," Honey explained. "I'll call Nick."
"Roberts?" Di said. "Ooh, he was so dreamy."
"Still is," Honey said. "I found him on Facebook and we've been talking. He'll love coming home for the wedding."
"Is he single?" Trixie asked.
"I still can't get over Brian. Getting married," Mart muttered.
"Yes," Honey said.
"I can't call Ned out of the blue," Trixie protested.
"Why not?" Honey asked. "He's in the next dorm and you two are cute together. And as an added bonus, it will drive Jim crazy."
"He's a player with eight hands, all of them trying to get up my blouse."
"He'll probably be there anyway," Honey said, warming to her idea. "After all, he was friends with Barb and her brother Bob." She pulled out her phone to type a quick message to Nick. "And he had such a crush on you."
"We were thirteen," Trixie protested.
"Didn't stop you from having a crush on my brother," Honey returned. Trixie blushed but didn't rise to the bait.
"You could always try punching Jim again. See if that works," Mart suggested.
Trixie narrowed her eyes at her "almost-twin" brother. "I didn't punch him. I sort of just pushed him. And he fell."
"Onto your fist," Mart pointed out, causing the room, including Trixie, to share a chuckle.
"He deserved it," Honey said, loyally. "I love him dearly but he went through a serious jerk face phase for a few years." She sat next to Trixie on the couch. "If it helps, he really has grown up a lot since then." She paused for a moment, thinking about her words. "I haven't really talked about him much in the last few years but seriously – last time I saw him, he. Well. He's changed. He isn't the same person who left for boot camp at 18."
Trixie shrugged. Her unrequited crush on her best friend's brother and her brother's best friend was old news. It seriously did not need to be re-hashed for the umpteenth bajillion time. Especially not in front of Mart.
"So, Ned," she said thoughtfully. She shook her head. "You know what? Screw this. I don't need a piece of arm candy to prove I'm over Jim or to show anyone up. I can win just being the rocking chick I already am," she declared, firmly ignoring the butterflies in her stomach.
"You know what?" Honey asked, lifting her chin in defiance. "Me, too. I hope Brian is happy with Barb and I am over him with a capital O."
The girls shared a fist bump and self-satisfied smiles.
"Will your cousins be there?" Di asked.
"Probably," Trixie said, musing. "Maybe? Unknown? This whole thing is a complete surprise to me. I didn't even know Brian was dating anyone, let alone Barbara Hubbell. Let me call Moms and find out what the deal is." She stood up to get some privacy to make the call home and bumped into Dan. "Oh, hey, Dan. You've been quiet today. Everything okay?"
Dan laughed and brushed a kiss across her forehead. "Just fine, Freckles. Just fine."
As the day of the wedding approaches:
"Why am I here, again?" Trixie moaned to Honey.
"To help set up the backyard for the wedding," Honey reminded her. "Now, I'm dropping you off and heading up to the Manor House. I can't see him just yet, Trixie. Okay? Please don't ask me to and I know this hurts you, too, with Jim but – I loved him and he broke my heart. And somehow, I need to pretend he didn't all day tomorrow. And I know how you feel about Jim. Or felt. I do. But Brian and I had a commitment. We'd discussed marriage after he got out of school."
Trixie patted her leg. "I know, Honey." They sat, staring at the farm house for a long moment. She pulled a small vial out of her pants. "Remember when I was having my wisdom teeth taken out last month?"
"Yes," Honey said, drawing the word out, unsure of where Trixie's thoughts were going.
"The oral surgeon prescribed Xanax."
"You have some left?"
"Yep. I have three left. I'm hoping that will get me through this weekend."
Honey dug a small red vial out of her purse. "I have four in here that my psychiatrist ordered when I was having panic attacks last semester. I'll call for a refill in the morning. Remember - don't take too many at once or drink. Okay?"
Trixie nodded in agreement. "We can do this," she swore.
"With a little help from modern chemistry," Honey said and the girls fist bumped in agreement.
Trixie got out of the car, waved Honey on her way up the street, and bounded up the steps to the kitchen. "Moms?" she called out and swung her backpack off her shoulder to put it on a chair.
"Oof. Ouch. Hey, Trix. What's in there? Bricks?" Jim asked as he rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head.
"Rocks," Trixie said, correcting him. Her stomach clenched in dread. Was it too early to start on the Xanax? Gleeps, Brian would kill her but her nerves were on fire and her hands shook. She could do this! She could. She just needed to remind herself she was a totally rocking chick. And really? How bad could it be? It wasn't like Jim was going to announce during the toast that Trixie had clumsily kissed him when she was 18 and he had firmly, soundly, completely rejected her. Was he?
"Well, it's a good thing you're here. We're on bow duty," Jim announced, indicating the piles of red ribbon surrounding him in the kitchen. He pulled his knit cap tighter around his head and rubbed his hands together for warmth.
"We?" Trixie said.
Jim nodded, not meeting her eyes. "Bobby and Brian are getting tables and chairs. Moms is with the caterer. Mart and Di are going over the song list with the DJ and your dad is off getting dinner." He checked his G-Force watch. "Everyone is meeting back here at 1900. So, let's get crafting."
Trixie nodded. "Where is the bride?"
"Hopefully taking a long walk off a short pier," Jim said, his voice never changing in inflection.
"What?"
"I said hopefully flying in with her friends. Brian says they got a hotel room in the City and will be here tomorrow morning. "
"Oh." Trixie shook her head, sure she had heard Jim say something not so very nice about Barb, but that couldn't be…could it?
Trixie stowed her gear in her room, took a Xanax, and sat down to start making bows. "Red?" she questioned.
"Don't ask me. What I know about women can fill a thimble," Jim said.
Trixie snorted, "Got that right."
Jim sighed but didn't say anything.
They fell into a quiet rhythm, interrupted only by the slick ribbon on ribbon sound.
"You messed that one up," Trixie said, pointing with her chin. "The ribbon is wrong side out."
"It's ribbon," Jim said. "I don't think it has a right or wrong side."
"Of course it does," Trixie said. "See how the grain is different?"
Jim's eyes narrowed as he took in the minute differences in the grain of red ribbon. "I don't care," he finally announced. "If the bride and groom do, they can re-do the ribbons themselves."
Trixie thought about it for a moment before saying, "Agreed."
"Did you guys plan a bachelor's party?"
Jim shrugged. "Not really. Bob Hubble and Mart decided we'd do a pub crawl through Sleepyside. I think the girls are going to do one on the other side of the street and we'll all meet up at midnight."
Maybe it was the unfamiliar high from her anti-anxiety medication but Trixie began to float and relax and for the first time in over four years, the nagging knot in her shoulders began to unspool.
The silence was just shy of awkward as they worked in tandem on the bright red bows. The Oldies station over the refrigerator began playing a familiar refrain. Trixie got up to turn the song up a little louder.
They say we're young and we don't know
And won't find out until we grow
Jim's deeper baritone joined in, "Well, I don't know if all that's true, 'cause you got me and baby, I got you. Babe."
"I got you, Babe," Trixie sang.
Their breaths caught as they the Sonny and Cher tune continued to play. "Trix, I really wanted to talk to you."
"I'm not so sure that's a good idea, Jim. One of us always seems to end up with a black eye when we talk."
"If by someone you mean me, yes, someone does," Jim agreed with a ghost of his old crooked grin. "But I'm willing to risk it if you are."
Trixie was saved from answering by the arrival of Mr. Belden and a dozen barely warm pizzas.
"Gleeps, Dad, are we feeding an army?"
"Just your brothers," Peter said, pressing a kiss to his daughter's forehead. "Hi, Jim. You look good. I wasn't expecting you up so soon after surgery."
Surgery? Wait. What?
"Princess, can you turn the oven on so we can keep them warm as we eat them?" He noticed Jim packing up the ribbon and wire. "You can leave that, Jim. We'll eat in the formal dining room tonight."
"I'll set the table," Trixie said to no one in particular as she got plates and walked into the living room.
"Let's use paper," Helen said, her voice tired as she trailed her husband into the kitchen. "Oh, Jim, thank you. How's your wound?"
Wound? Wait. What's going on? What hadn't Honey told her?
Helen cupped Jim's cheeks in her hands and examined him closely. "Don't overdo it, okay?"
"I'm fine, Mrs. B," Jim said, chagrined by the attention.
"Are you cold?" she asked, still fussing.
Cold? Trixie thought. The bright fall day had to be close to mid-80s. Why would he be cold? From the safety of the dining room, Trixie took the time to look – really look – at him.
"I've been drinking coffee, Mrs. B. Thanks for asking."
He looked. Old. Lines had appeared on his once smooth skin and was that grey hair at his temples? He wasn't even 30 and yet, he looked at least a decade older. And he was wearing layers - T-shirt, thermal, flannel, a hat, jeans, and socks.
She looked down at her own shorts and tank top. Questions were popping up and he was the only way to answer any of them.
Against her will, Trixie felt her resolve melting as she longed to find out what everyone else had seemed to already know.
Mart and Di arrived just as the first of the pizzas had heated up and served. "I cannot believe this," Di grumbled, looking at her phone. "Barb is live-Tweeting her day in the City and... and... oh, my!"
"What?" Trixie demanded when Di's voice faded to nothing.
"Just. Well. You know, a few catty comments about the last time she was in New York."
Trixie's eyes were automatically drawn to Jim's as they both thought about that long ago carriage ride in Central Park.
Before long, they were joined by Bobby and Brian and everyone found a seat and a slice to eat.
"So what else do we need to get done tomorrow, Moms?" Di asked, wiping her mouth.
Helen sighed and pulled out her iPad. "Okay. Brian and Bobby are bringing the heavy things in the delivery van." Brian nodded, indicating that the van was full and in the driveway. "Peter, you need to set up the dance floor. You'll need to teach the boys one of these days. You're the only one who knows how that silly thing goes together. Jim, Mart, and Brian will set up chairs. Honey . . . wait. Where is Honey?" Helen wiped a hand across her tired eyes.
"Honey is still up at the Manor House," Trixie said.
Helen nodded. "Okay. Honey, Trixie, and Di will attach the bows to each row. We need to get an area set up for the caterer's to serve." She took a big bite of her pizza. "Then we can break for lunch."
"Lunch?" Trixie demanded. "That's just for the morning?"
Di nudged her under the table and Trixie was immediately contrite. "I mean. Wow. I'm sure we'll have plenty of time."
Helen shot her daughter a weary smile. "Barb should be here after lunch. The minister is scheduled to be here at two o'clock for the rehearsal. I have three hours allotted for that. After that, you all are on your own and your dad is paying some 6 foot tall massage god named Sven to work the knots out of my shoulders."
It was a tie to see who was more shocked by Helen's announcement – her husband or her sons. Peter choked on his third slice of pizza and Mart paused a long, long moment before taking a bite of his fifth.
"Wait. We're doing all this while the bride is live-Tweeting her pedicure?" Trixie asked, outraged.
"Sweetie, we're doing this for Brian. So, please. It's only one day and we can pull together and get it done, okay?"
Trixie stood and went over to her mom. She hugged her around the dining room chair. "You're right, Moms. I'm sorry. It's just you look so exhausted."
"I am. Brian and Barb sprung this on us last minute, but it's all good," she said, forcing a smile on her face as she nibbled on the pizza.
"I know, Mom," Brian said, his eyes dark and serious. Contrite. "I just didn't have much time between assignments and Barb wanted a backyard wedding."
"You gonna' take your hat off, Jim?" Bobby asked, struggling with his brother for another slice of pie but settling down after a stern look from his dad and a fresh hot pizza from the oven.
"I know, it's rude," Jim said, shooting the Beldens an apologetic look. "I'm just cold, Bobby," Jim said. "Believe it or not, you get used to the heat in Afghanistan. Coming home to autumn temps in New York is killing me."
Trixie's eyes widened as she fought against her old nemesis, curiosity.
"Why don't you get some sleep, Helen," Peter said, pulling his wife's chair out for her. "The kids and I will clean up the pizza mess."
"And Jim and I are almost done with the bows," Trixie offered.
Helen nodded wearily and climbed up the stairs to her room. Peter watched as, without a word, each of the "kids" picked a chore and got it done. He and Helen, well, mostly Helen, he acknowledged, had raised a good brood of kids. He grinned to himself. Guess they weren't really kids anymore, were they? But still, they were turning into fine adults.
His brow creased as he worried over Brian's impending marriage. It was so out of character for his responsible, respectable son but he wished them all the happiness in the world.
Mart stacked the empty pizza boxes and began breaking them down for recycling. Brian and Bobby collected paper plates. Di wiped down the table. Jim and Trixie began washing the few utensils and cups they had used.
Peter smiled, hopeful this weekend would reconcile the Bob-Whites. Silently, he followed his wife up the stairs, intent on making her forget all about Swedish massage gods.
Friday morning, 5am
Trixie stretched lightly, knowing this run was definitely well needed. Her mom didn't need her until 6:30 so Trixie figured she had just enough time to run the two miles into town, grab a cup of coffee and a bear claw then head back, shower, and finish the prep work for the wedding.
As she entered the misty cool morning, she heard the unmistakable sounds of sneakers on asphalt. There was another runner on Glen Road. She frowned as she caught herself staring at Jim's tall frame.
Welp, she thought. Too late to pretend she hadn't been about to take a run. "Hey," he said, ever so slightly out of breath. "Want to join me?"
Sweat poured from his forehead in the early morning air. "How long have you been running?" she asked.
"Didn't sleep well last night," Jim said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "What time is it now?"
"It's 0500," Trixie said, using military time and falling in next to him. He paced himself to her shorter legs as they began their run.
"Would you be willing to forego your run for a visit to Ten Acres?"
Trixie's shoulders tensed. "Sure. Why not? We've kinda been putting this talk off for forever, haven't we?"
"A little bit," Jim answered, easily.
As they neared the property, she turned right onto the long abandoned stretch of driveway leading up to the foundation of the once great home.
"I can still see it, you know. Standing tall and impressive, towering over Glen Road," Trixie said, quietly. The air had an early morning hushed quality to it, broken only by an occasional bird calling for its mate.
"I mostly see it the night of the fire," Jim confessed. "So, I try not to think about it too much."
Trixie nodded in understanding, unsure of what to say.
"This is it," Jim said. "The omega and alpha of my life. My old life ended when I took refuge here and like a phoenix rising from the fire, my new life began."
Trixie focused on a far away, long ago scene and silently agreed with him. Her quiet, normal childhood ended when Jim arrived and she met Honey. Would this also be where it ended?
"I was a jerk," he finally announced before flopping down on the dew soaked grass. He shivered a little before pushing the reaction away.
Trixie shrugged. "I wasn't exactly a peach myself."
Jim closed his eyes, letting the days, weeks and months of memories slide by. "I was cocky and arrogant and full of myself. I was an absolute hot commodity in Jacksonville and I let it go to my head. Here, in Sleepyside, I was the freckled orphan who was rescued by two thirteen year old girls. In North Carolina I'm a Marine."
"You were special to me. To us. The Bob-Whites," she clarified, refusing to blush with the honesty of her statement.
"I had so much to prove to myself," Jim said. "I was so angry at the world. No one had ever stuck around. My dad died. Then Jonsey happened. Then Mom died. I get adopted and suddenly it's all I could do to be the good son so they wouldn't regret adopting me. Grades, sports, charity work, and running herd on you and Honey. All this pressure, it was unbearable, Trix."
"You didn't have to 'run herd' on us."
Jim lifted a shoulder, acknowledging her statement. "In my mind, I did. I was scared to death of anything happening to you guys. I mean, everyone else, too. But she's my sister and you're my first and dearest friend."
"Is that why you left school and joined the Marines?" Trixie picked up a few wild flowers and began weaving a chain out of them.
"I had to do something," he said. "It was grueling but I earned the title of Marine. You have no idea how that felt. Marines may die but the Corps is forever and I'm now a part of that history. Forever. I didn't realize how important that was to me until I had it in my hands. Until I wore that uniform and felt that pride."
"You were so handsome the night of graduation," Trixie said.
Jim's lips twitched a little. "Dress blues are a sight to behold."
"I had champagne that night," Trixie confided, stretching down next to him. It was easier to talk when they weren't looking at each other.
"I know."
"I embarrassed myself."
Jim sighed, struggling for words. "You were too young, Trix. We were too young. In years and experience and I was too immature to say it properly."
"It wasn't that bad," Trixie said, lifting herself up on one elbow, unable to resist the lure of him. His once vibrant red hair had faded to a dark auburn brown and his nose showed definite signs of having been broken.
"I had such a crush on you." His words were staccato. Sharp. Abrupt and from the heart. "Your brashness. Your boldness. Your ability to get us all into and out of all sorts of scrapes. But we both needed to explore the world a little. Make a decision as adults, not as hormone wracked kids." His eyes remained closed as he spit the words out.
"I should have let you down gently. Told you we'd talk after you sobered up. Lied to you and said I only saw you as Brian's sister. Anything else. But you stood there, beautiful. Ethereal. The embodiment of every dream and hope and desire I'd had since coming to Sleepyside and you were offering all of them to me. Everything I wanted. Ever could want. Ever could need." He opened his eyes, his green gaze instantly finding her blue ones. Boring into her with the intensity of his emotions. "And it was a tease because I knew I had to turn it down. I couldn't take advantage of a drunken girl and I had no time to court you." He struggled for words. "What else could I have done? How do you start a relationship when you're being sent to every hotspot in the Sandbox?"
"And you were angry," Trixie said.
"I was, but not at you. Never at you. It was just. Timing," he finished. "And the timing still isn't much better. I need to get back to my men but I also realized I could lose you forever if I didn't open my mouth, lower my pride, and beg you to talk to me again. To be my friend again. Let us learn who we're becoming. Who we've become."
"I haven't been sitting on my hands, waiting for you to notice me, Jim Frayne," Trixie returned, sharply.
"If you're dating someone, I understand," Jim said, slowly reaching up to touch one of Trixie's curls. "I don't care. If I blew my chance with you, I blew it. I get it. But to live the rest of my life without your friendship would make life not worth living."
They sat, facing each other, their eyes meeting. Honesty flowed between them from his soul into hers and back again. Pride lowering honest communication and genuine emotion caught them both with the tensile strength of a spider's silken thread. Tears welled in her eyes at his absolute sincerity. Trixie bit her lip, unsure of herself for the first time in years.
"How were you hurt?" she asked, changing the subject, hoping Jim understood. That she had to take a step back from the intensity they had generated.
He nodded, withdrawing from the heat and fire of their combustible energy.
"Got shot," he said.
" .God. You were shot? What happened?"
Jim shrugged. "It's not a big deal, Trix," he said, deflecting her question. "They were able to remove the bullet. I was operated on and sent home to get back into shape before I get called into action again."
Blue eyes clouded. "You could have died."
"But I didn't."
"But you could have."
Jim stood up, pulling her with him. "Jonsey could have killed me on dozens of occasions. I could have died in the fire that took Uncle James' house. We could have drowned that night in Iowa." He leaned down to brush his lips against the soft pink ones that had haunted him for over a decade. "But I didn't."
Later that day
After showering and dressing, Trixie bounded down the stairs, grabbed a cup of coffee and joined her family
"How can I help?" she asked.
"Oh, good, you're here," Helen said, handing her daughter a basket full of bows. "The boys have just set up all the chairs. Can you and Honey start with the bows? Di should be here any minute. Mart went to go get her."
Trixie nodded at Jim and couldn't help the smug feeling of rightness in her world. Until she saw Honey's demeanor. She quickly hugged her best friend, contrite that her relationship with Jim was healing when Honey's feelings were still very much raw and exposed.
"How are you holding up?" she asked, rubbing her shoulder. Honey shrugged one shoulder in an unspoken answer of "I'll be alright."
Helen and Peter stood back, watching their "kids" work as one by one, all the Bob-Whites gathered and set their hand to a task. Mart and Dan bantered over the square – or was it rectangular – dance floor. Di and Bobby adjusted chairs into even rows. Honey and Trixie studiously tied bows to the end caps of each row. Jim worked diligently with a rake to keep the area neat.
Helen's china blue eyes clouded at Honey's obvious distress over the upcoming wedding. If only… but no. It wasn't meant to be.
"They're good kids," Peter whispered to his wife, tickling her ear lobe and making her giggle.
She turned in his arms and pressed a kiss to his neck. "We did a good job, Mr. Belden."
"Indeed, Mrs. Belden," her husband said with the slightly wicked smile that always melted her insides.
"Anyone need a break?" Jim asked, approaching the group with a cooler of drinks.
"Strawberry?" Trixie asked, dropping the last bow, eager for a cold drink and a long break.
"Sorry, Trix," her mother said, "Mr. Lytell only had cherry and Coke in stock." Trixie wrinkled her nose but popped the top off the bright red beverage anyway.
"I can't believe you still drink that ridiculously sweet soft drink, Trix," Dan said, grabbing a bottle of water.
"To friends," Di said, lifting her own soda up in a salute.
"To friends," Honey said, and one by one, the gentle clinking of beverages chimed in the afternoon air.
The quiet moment was broken by the sound of Brian's car pulling into the driveway. "Here comes the bride," Honey said, under her breath before surreptitiously popping a Xanax.
"How many of those have you had?" Trixie asked, brow creased in worry.
"First one today," Honey assured her. "I just need to get through this and I'll be fine." The girls shared a fist bump and turned to greet Brian and Barb.
Barb smiled up at Brian as she approached the hot, sweaty group having their first break. Her white linen dress skimmed her curves and she looked cool and beautiful in the gentle fall breeze.
A scream of outrage rent the still air.
"Who did this?" Barb yelled, her voice loud enough to echo against the trees. "It's ruined. You've ruined everything!"
"Now, Barb, honey, what are you talking about?" Brian asked in his best, no-nonsense-older-brother-Navy-Corpsman voice.
Barb's eyes flashed at her future mother-in-law. "You ruined my wedding," she wailed again, rivulets of tears falling down her perfect cheeks.
Helen's mouth opened in surprise and she shared a look with her husband. "Barb, I don't know what you're talking about." She waved her hand, indicating the decorated back yard. "We set up a place for dancing. I set up the chairs like you requested. If anything is wrong, I'm sure we can fix it."
Barb clung to Brian's broad shoulders, her shoulders shaking with her distress. "You horrid old cow," she eventually choked out. "The colors. The colors are completely wrong."
"Who do you think you're calling an old cow?" Trixie demanded.
Honey's eyes narrowed slightly and her shoulders tensed, ready for action.
Helen merely looked confused. "You said red. You even wrote me a note. I still have it for reference. You said you wanted red bows."
"Watermelon red," Barb shouted.
Brian shared a horrified look with his father, unsure of the protocol when one's fiancée calls one's mother a "horrid old cow".
"This is as far from watermelon red as…as… the sky is from being green. This is," Barb shuddered for effect. "This is cough syrup red. Cherry pop red," she declared, her eyes lighting on the half-finished bottle in Trixie's hands.
"Cherry pop red, huh?" Trixie said, approaching Barb. She placed her thumb over the neck of the bottle and shook it. Hard. "I can give you cherry pop red," she said.
"Trixie, no," her mother scolded but it was too late. Bright, red, sticky, carbonated – the drink spewed from Trixie's hands to Barb's white linen dress.
The moment was pregnant with hushed shock as it took everyone a moment to process just what Trixie had done.
Even Trixie looked slightly shocked and ashamed for a moment before narrowing her eyes in defiance. Who was this crazy chick from Iowa to call her mother a horrid old cow? She deserved a bottle of cherry pop on her dress and more!
"You jealous troll," Barb screeched, sounding less lady-like with each utterance. "You and your crappy little friends, always trying to prove yourselves to the world."
"And you wanted to be a part of it so badly, you're marrying Brian," Honey spoke quietly, firmly. "Mrs. B did so much work on this wedding. The invites. The caterer. The DJ. Contacting the pastor. Following that wish book you gave her like it was some holy scripture. But instead of being a grateful woman, happy to be marrying a wonderful man and marrying into a generous loving family, all it did was highlight your shallow pettiness."
Honey's eyes filled with tears and Jim put his arm around her for support. "You know us. You knew us. Are you marrying Brian so you could be part of the Belden family? Or to take him away from it?"
"Honey," Brian began but was instantly shushed by his father.
"Sometimes, Son, you just need to let a woman have her say."
"I don't think that's any of your business Madeline Wheeler," Barb spat. Her eyes turned to Dan. "You. You're a cop. I want to press charges."
Dan's eyebrows lifted. "Over watermelon vs. cherry red bows? I don't think there's an ordinance for that."
"For assault," Barb declared. She pointed a finger at Trixie's empty bottle. "Trixie assaulted me."
"Oh, you want to see assault," Trixie said, running towards Barb, fists clenched but was caught by Mart and Jim. "Let me go," she said, struggling. "If I'm going to get arrested, I plan on earning the arrest."
"No one is getting arrested," Dan said.
"The hell they aren't," Barb said, reaching for her cellphone.
"Ouch! Crap, not again," Jim yelled.
"What? Ohmygoodness, Jim, I'm so sorry," Trixie said as Jim dropped to one knee.
"Ah, jeeze, Trix. Another black eye?" Mart said.
"I'll go get an ice pack," Di offered.
"Are you calling 9-1-1 on my family?" Brian demanded, approaching Jim so he could examine him.
"She attacked me." An evil, smug smile suddenly appeared on her face. "She attacked our unborn child."
A collective hush was the only sound heard in the backyard.
"Brian?" Helen said.
Pandemonium broke out in the backyard of Crabapple Farm as every voice broke out in questions, exclamations, and half answers.
A sharp bob-white whistle pierced the air and silenced everyone as Dan took control of the situation. He picked up Barb's phone and spoke to the emergency operator on the other end. "This is Officer Dan Mangan of the Sleepyside PD. We're having a domestic disturbance out on Glen Road. I have everything handled but," he paused and looked at Jim, holding an ice pack over his eye. "Could you send a paramedic?"
Two hours later, order was restored and Jim's eye was looked at and deemed fine. Helen was given a mild sedative, and Brian faced the music of his parent's disapproval.
"You should have told us, Brian," Helen said.
"It's not that we expected any of you to remain virgins until your wedding night," Peter said. "But to not tell us your fiancée was pregnant? Why didn't you just tell us?"
"She's not pregnant," Honey said.
"Of course she is," Brian said. "She showed me the blue stick."
Di scoffed. "Oh, please, you can buy those on Craigslist for $10."
"You can?" Dan said, his voice cracking.
Di looked smug, "You can buy anything on Craigslist."
"Or if she is, she's the worst pregnant woman in this history of the world."
"What do you mean?" Helen asked.
Honey nodded to Di and Di brought out her cell phone. "Remember I told you she was live tweeting last night? Well, she was also sharing on Instagram. Pictures of doing Jell-O shots while sitting on some guy's lap." She swiped the pictures, showing and sharing with Mart's family.
All eyes turned to Barb who merely shrugged.
"You lied to me?" Brian asked.
Unable to quite accept the truth was out, Barb said, "I had a miscarriage."
"You miscarried my baby and decided to celebrate with Jell-O shots and some random dude?" Brian asked, his voice raised with disgust.
"It wasn't like you even cared," Barb accused, going on the offensive.
"Why?" Honey asked, cutting to the chase.
"You think you're so smug, don't you?" Barb said, turning on the hazel eyed woman. "Anything Honey Wheeler wants, she gets thanks to Daddy's deep pockets."
The anger and vehemence in Barb's voice caught them all by surprise. Honey's mouth fell open slightly as she waited for her to continue. Waited for the truth to come out.
"Poor little rich girl, batting her big hazel eyes when the world was mean to her. Did you ever struggle? Ever not know if you could get into college? Have you ever had to make tough decisions? Can I buy food this week or do I get my dad's medicine? Or did you just stay in your ivory penthouse suite in New York and pretend everyone loved you?" Barb was panting now, waves of anger pouring off her slim figure. "Well, not this time," Barb said. "This time, I got him. I kept you from becoming Mrs. Brian Belden," she spat out the words, her voice triumphant.
"No," Brian said, his baritone calm once more. "No one will be Mrs. Brian Belden anytime soon," he vowed. "There isn't going to be a wedding. Not after this. Did you really think once the truth came out, I'd still marry you? Or were you going to try and explain the miscarriage to me after the honeymoon?"
Barb shrugged, for once staying quiet.
"I think you should leave," Brian said.
"Fine," Barb agreed, pulling the diamond ring off the third finger of her left hand and tossing it on the table. "I didn't want that tiny little kitty litter diamond, anyway. Drive me back to the hotel."
"Get your things," Brian said, his voice curt. "You can figure your own way home after that."
"Oh, dear," Helen said, as the caterer's van pulled up and began setting up. "We have dozens of guests arriving tomorrow."
"A portable smoker?" Mart asked. "We're having smoked meat?" He clutched at his chest. "I think I'm in culinary heaven!"
Helen nodded. "They wanted to get those things set up tonight. The rest of the food will be here tomorrow."
"It's all paid for," Peter reminded her.
"Let's have a party," Trixie announced. "A Bob-White Reunion Party," she declared.
"Sounds good," Mart said. "But no more black eyes, okay?"
Jim threw his arm around Trixie's shoulders. "If I can survive a Bob-White reunion, the bad guys have nothing on a Trixie right hook."
"Hurry back, Brian," Mart called to his brother, already salivating over the epicurean delights his mother had ordered. "Bobby and I will set up an iPod and we'll start the dancing tonight."
The end.
A/N: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot is military slang for an expression that begins wit and an F. In addition to being a palindrome, Xanax is also a brand name anti-anxiety medication. A bearclaw is a kind of yummy pastry shaped like what it's named after.
Welp is a resigned declaration of existential helplessness or an interjection used when discussing an unfortunate circumstance without expressing anger. Think "it is what it is".
Craigslist is a website that's a huge, mostly unregulated, classified add. You can find anything - old furniture, garage sales, and even positive pregnancy sticks. Jell-O shots are an alcoholic beverage mixed in with your favorite flavor Jell-O and slurped down in shot-sized cups. Huge thanks to Julie (Jstar8) and Amber for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own.