Breakaway
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!
Chapter Seven
Avoiding the glare of the hot summer sun, Trixie shaded her eyes from the front porch of the counter store. Brian carefully nosed the car out of the driveway, leaving a trail of dust in its wake as he drove along Glen Road. She waved after two of her brothers and watched it until it was well out of sight. Then she reached for the broom and began a series of halfhearted sweeping motions, brushing away the little bit of dirt and dust that had managed to accumulate on the floorboards of the old country store. The day was going by at a snail's pace, much to her displeasure. She had only been at work for a handful of hours but it felt like much longer.
Tiny beads of sweat gathered on her forehead. She brushed them away and then glanced up as a car slowly drove past the store. Inclining her head to the side, she watched its progress as it went by. From her position on the porch, she couldn't tell anything about the driver; the windows were closed, tinted and seemed to be dirty. All she could make out was the color and shape. A dark brown sedan, old and weary-looking, covered with patches of rust and a healthy looking dent in the bumper. She couldn't put her finger on it but its presence made her edgy, most likely because she couldn't identify the owner of it. When the car traveled past the driveway to the store without stopping, Trixie released a pent-up breath of air she hadn't realized she had been holding and squinted her eyes after it, watching the car as it traveled away. After carefully replacing the broom in its proper spot back against the side of the building, she went back inside, keeping one eye out on the now-empty road. Laughing at her overly active imagination, glad that Mart hadn't been around to witness her preoccupation with the car, she retook her spot behind the counter and became immersed in the old newspaper she know knew by heart.
Five minutes later, the small bell attached to the screen door jingled as a new customer walked into the small and nearly deserted store. Trixie's head shot up immediately. She felt a bright smile bloom across her face and yelled excitedly, her voice cutting through the silence of the room that was broken only by the whir of two standing rotating fans and a leisurely moving ceiling fan, "Honey! You're here!" Staring at the old clock hanging on the wall, she added, slightly shocked, "And you are really, really early. You don't have to be here for another half hour, at least. It's not even one-thirty yet."
Dressed in a light cotton dress to help combat the warmth that collected easily within the store despite the fans, the open windows, and the screen door, Honey walked quickly over to the counter, casually brushing aside a stray strand of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. "Hi," she said with a cheerful smile on her face and put her hands on the counter. "I wanted to get here as early as I could. Has it been a busy day today?"
"Let's see," Trixie mused, starting to tick off the amount of customers she had helped on her fingers. "Mrs. Elliott came in right after I opened up for some milk and bread. The Lynches stopped by for a carton of ice cream about an hour later. I think it was for Larry and Terry. Mr. Maypenny actually came in to visit but he didn't buy anything. He only wanted the company. He didn't say it but I think he was feeling a bit lonely since Dan was asked to work at the police station today."
"We always made sure to stop by and visit his cabin during this past year, after Dan went away to college. He missed him an awful lot." Honey then remarked after carefully considering Dan's work schedule, "I think it's smart of Sergeant Molinson to let him work different hours and different shifts at the station. It's good for Dan. He'll be used to the odd hours that officers have to work when he becomes an official police officer in a few years." Studying the display of candy bars, plastic jars of lollipops, and a small wire rack of local maps, Honey reached out and began to thoughtfully rearrange them.
Giggling under her breath, Trixie put a restraining hand on hers and shook her head, sending her blonde curls dancing with the quick movement. "Don't do it, Honey," she advised her wisely. "Don't move a thing in here, even if you think it would make the place more aesthetically pleasing. Don't touch anything, no matter what. Mr. Lytell doesn't like to have his things moved without his permission. Poor Aubrey found that out the hard way." Trixie was grateful she hadn't been the one to swap the newspapers with the magazine rack that sat in front of the counter.
Honey arched an eyebrow and then reluctantly replaced the items, hiding a small sigh. Her way would have freed up more counter space. Bringing up the customers again, she wondered a bit wistfully, hoping that most of the inhabitants of Glen Road hadn't been accounted for yet, "Has anyone else been in to see you?" She wanted to have company during her hours at the store. As she was well-aware from her friend, any shift at the quiet country store had the potential to be extremely boring.
"There was a family who were lost and needed directions back to the highway. I hope I gave them good ones." Trixie grimaced, knowing that handing out directions was not a strong point of hers. "Then Brian and Bobby popped in about an hour ago. They each had an ice cream sandwich, chatted with me for about forty-five minutes, and then left to head on home." Trixie stared up at the ceiling, unable to recall anyone else coming into the store. "That's been it. You are the last person to walk through that door. It's been really quiet around here, even for a Saturday." She slipped off the stool she had been perched on and grabbed Honey's hand to take her behind the counter. "I doubt if there will be anyone else coming in for a while so I can give you a refresher course right now on how everything operates. That is, if you are absolutely positive you don't mind doing this for me?" It was meant to be a statement but came out sounding more like a question. Trixie lifted both her eyebrows and waited for Honey's response.
Honey blew out a small, frustrated breath, gifted Trixie with a long-suffering look of pure exasperation, and tapped a sandaled foot against the floorboards worn flat from years of use by the storey's loyal customers. "Trixie, I swear, if you ask me that one more time, I'm going to have to lie to you and tell you yes and then I'm going to turn around and leave you to spend the rest of the day and night here at the store. Jim will have to cancel your plans, whatever they happen to be, and then he's going to have to stop in here and stay with you until closing time. It will be one heck of a way to spend your anniversary."
"Okay, okay." Trixie gave in gracefully, chuckling lightly, and pointed to the cash register. It was relatively new, bought right after the incident with Laura Ramsey and her partner when Mr. Lytell had made a few changes, and was in direct contrast to some of the other relics in the store. "We'll start with the cash register first. It's not hard at all. I added in a new roll of paper, too, so you won't have to worry about that." After instructing Honey on the ins and outs of the register, Trixie bent down and showed her a small black button hidden under the counter. "Do you see this, Honey?"
Honey crouched down and nodded, concentrating more on trying to remember how to work the cash register than pondering the existence of a button that looked tiny and insignificant. "Yeah, I do. What is it for?"
"Mr. Lytell made a few improvements after the affair with Laura Ramsey." Trixie practically spat out the name. The envy and jealousy she had experienced during that time still had the power to embarrass and overwhelm her. None of the memories she had of that particular adventure made her feel happy or content. Ignoring them, she recalled how Mr. Lytell had shared with her that he had installed the security system and the help button at the same time. "Anyway, after that experience, he decided that it was time to update the store so he put in a security system. I'll show you how to work that before I leave, too. Should there be any problems in the store, you could push this button right here and it would alert the dispatcher at the police station that the police are needed at the store."
"That's good to know. I'm sure I'll need to use it today. You know, there must be so many shifty characters coming through this store." Eyes sparkling with laughter, Honey filed it away, although she doubted if there would be a need to do something like that in the store and then became serious again when Trixie didn't join in her laughter, only looked at her with one raised eyebrow. Sighing, surprised that her friend hadn't found her joke humorous even with the astonishing amount of shady characters the two of them had managed to defeat during the course of their friendship, many of them right here in Sleepyside, she declared seriously, "Got it, Trix. What's next?"
"Come with me." Trixie took her hand and brought her into the backroom, thinking about the important tasks she needed to go over with Honey. The room was surprisingly large. Unpacked boxes of supplies were meticulously stacked, waiting to be stocked on the shelves out in the store. A neat and well-organized desk rested against one wall, located underneath the lone window it the room. The plain brown curtains billowed with the light breeze. They stopped by the desk. "Mr. Lytell doesn't keep a lot of cash on hand anymore, either. I don't have to tell you why. As you can see, the safe is long gone. He stores his money at the bank now. He learned his lesson the hard way and has finally come to completely trust the banking system."
"It's a good thing that Mr. Lytell has made so many changes to help protect his store." Honey studied the items on the desk. Everything was tidy and stored in its own place. There was a pad of paper, an old mug with a picture of the Statue of Liberty on it serving as a pencil and pen holder, a phone, and a large black box. "What do you need to show me in here?"
"Again, I highly doubt you will need it since the customer flow could best be called a trickle, if that, but Mr. Lytell keeps exactly fifty dollars in change in this box." Trixie held up the key, which was still attached to the box, and opened it up. "See? If someone would give you a larger bill and there wasn't enough change in the cash register, you could come back here to get the change. Should you need to do that, you would have to write down how much you took out and put it inside the box. Mr. Lytell will want to know."
"That sounds simple." Then a horrible thought occurred to Honey. Gasping, she put a hand on Trixie's shoulder. "Oh, no, Trix! Most people rarely carry cash anymore. Don't they? You're going to have to show me how to work that debit/credit card thingy." The thought of it was daunting and filled Honey with dread. First, she hoped she didn't have to use it. Handling money had to be easier than swiping a card. Second, she hoped that she didn't make a mistake with that one. Wouldn't it be awful to charge someone fifty dollars on a five dollar purchase? she thought to herself, shuddering at the possibility and feeling incompetent.
"Hey, if I can handle it, you can, too," Trixie assured her swiftly, recognizing the strange gleam in Honey's eyes. It had been on her face the first time she had tried to use the machine, too. "It's not that difficult at all. If you can handle the cash register, you'll do fine with it." Trixie led the way back to the counter where she went over the simple steps again, hoping to ease Honey's fears. "Do you see how it works, Honey? As Mr. Lytell so kindly told me when he showed me how to use it, it's practically idiot-proof."
A startled giggle worked its way out. "He said that to you?" Honey eyed the contraption and felt much better, just as Trixie had hoped she would. "If I can't figure it out during the heat of the moment, Trix, I'll offer to pay for the groceries myself. Wouldn't that be funny? Maybe I'll end up spending more than I earn today!"
Trixie laughed with her, imagining what the customers would think about such a surprising proposition, and then leaned up against the counter, her arms crossed and the most grateful look on her expressive face. "Although I know you don't want me to bring it up again, Honey, I have to tell you how much this means to me. Thank you so much for being willing to take over for me. Mr. Lytell was just tickled when I told him that you were going to be working for me today. You know you've always been his favorite out of all of us, right? I think he's secretly hoping that you'll become enamored with the store, give up your job at Dr. Ferris's office, and spend the rest of the summer here."
Honey airily waved away the thanks. "Trixie, enough with the thank-yous. Once was enough." She took her seat on the stool and picked up the newspaper, copying the same pose Trixie had been in when she had entered the store, and did her best to look as if she was busy. Swallowing down another giggle, she questioned teasingly, "Do I look official enough?"
"Definitely." Trixie moved over to the window, glanced out the open window at the empty parking lot and then frowned. "Hey, Honey? How did you get here?"
"Tom dropped me off. He was driving my mother in to do some shopping downtown." Honey finally noted the date on the newspaper and exclaimed, stunned, "Oh, wow! This is Thursday's paper. Last Thursday's paper!" She was quick to add in a humorous voice.
"We're always up to date here with what the employees get to read. There's a People magazine from last fall over in the corner. I know it by heart by now." Trixie pointed out wryly. Then she cocked her head to the side and brought up the more important subject at hand. "Have you thought about how you're going to get home, Honey?"
Honey shrugged a slim and careless shoulder. "I guess I'll call the house when it's time to close up the store. How do you usually get home?" she questioned curiously.
Trixie waved in the general direction of her bike. It was leaning up against the side of the building and couldn't be seen from their vantage point. "I generally ride my bike to and from the store. Sometimes, when my brothers are either feeling overly generous or when they think it has to be too hot for my delicate system, one of them will stop by and drive me home. You probably remember that Brian did that after my Thursday shift so that I could get to Di's earlier for our sleepover."
"It's a shame that the old Bob-White station wagon ended up having to be totaled after we crashed it this past winter." Honey released a small sigh, thinking about the car with fond memories. It hadn't been replaced yet. "We could certainly have used it now."
Trixie couldn't get over the fact that neither the Lynches or the Wheelers had supplied either of their daughters with a car of their own yet. It either showed how much each family wanted their children to be raised without the influence of their wealth or the fact that both sets of parents were still scared about letting their daughters get behind the wheel again. She figured it was a mixture of both. "Better the car than us," she responded finally, remembering the accident from the winter a few months earlier. All three girls had been in the car at the time, heading home when school had let out early due to the arrival of an unexpected snowstorm. Honey had been at the wheel; it had been Honey's turn to drive. Without warning, she had hit a patch of black ice. The car had swung out of control and had managed to collide with a tree. Unfortunately, the tree had won the battle. The car had been mangled beyond repair. It was amazing that none of the girls had been hurt. They had walked away with a few minor cuts and bruises.
"I do miss that old station wagon." Honey gave another wistful sigh and then offered, "But I'll call someone to come and get me when it's time to come home."
"You won't have to use the payphone outside. There's a phone in the back room, too. Mr. Lytell lets us make short, local calls. He won't mind it if you call from there," Trixie shared quickly. "He would be absolutely delighted to know that someone had to call the Manor House!" she remarked playfully, thinking about the owner's partiality for a certain member of the staff living there.
"Trix, think!" she chastised her gently. "You've got to know what century we are in by now. I can always use my cell!" Honey pulled it out of her purse and started laughing. "Isn't it funny that we once had to rely on payphones? I actually can't remember the last time I had to use one."
"Me, neither. Oh, I think there's one more thing I need to show you in the back room!" As a light bulb went off in her mind, Trixie grabbed her friend's hand and hastily took her back into the room. "I can't believe I almost forgot the most important part of your job today. It's imperative that you set the security system before you leave. Mr. Lytell has a fit if one of us forgets to do it. Luckily, I haven't forgotten about it. Aubrey didn't set it properly the first time she was here and he was not happy at all. So, now it's time for you to master the art of the security system. Are you ready for it?"
Honey stared at the keypad with growing trepidation and felt a small shiver work its way across her back. Small, gray, in the shape of a rectangle, with all the necessary numbers that she had learned before starting elementary school, as well as a few other imposing buttons, she found herself stymied. And intimidated. Very, very intimidated. "Ah, Trixie?" she began cautiously. "I think you're going to need to show me how it works and then write it down for me. I don't like the looks of it. And I don't want to make a mistake with it."
"Don't worry. It's super-simple, just like everything else I've shown you today. You'll catch on in no time at all," Trixie explained firmly. She told Honey the security code, showed her how to punch it in and then activate it, and then explained that she had to make certain that the door was locked before leaving the building from the back room. "It's not that hard, Honey. You'll have to move quickly once you enter the code and set the system but, other than that, take your time and you'll be fine."
"You're leading your friend down a path to certain disaster. You missed a step, Trixie. From what I understand about security systems, it's an extremely important and vital piece," a familiar voice announced from the open doorway. "Although I am not terribly surprised by your forgetfulness. I have often wondered about the size of your cranium, as I have lamented many times before."
Hands on her hips, Trixie glanced up at the ceiling and counted to ten. He made it a point to stop by a few times a week. She had been hoping to miss out on a visit from her most obnoxious brother. Turning around, a pained look on her face, she greeted him without the least bit of enthusiasm, "Mart. So good to see you. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"
He could almost see the sarcasm drip off of her words and rocked back on his heels, delighted as always to poke fun at her, "Just seeing how the lessons are going, Trix. I hope you aren't making a mess out of it. And I sincerely hope that you are a much better teacher than you were a student. If you aren't, then I imagine our dear friend and fellow Bob-White here is in for quite a time today."
"Cut it out, Mart!" Trixie ordered him sharply, noticing the color draining out of Honey's face at his words. "You aren't helping matters out at all."
Mart had forgotten that Honey was even in the room. He muttered a small, "Sorry, Honey," before stepping back from the threshold of the doorway. But he didn't offer any recantations of his words. It was simply too much fun to tease his sister.
Honey took a deep breath, telling herself it wasn't going to be that hard to take care of the store and that Mart was only being his normal, joking self. She was a high school graduate, on her way to attending NYU as a freshman in the fall, and her best friend in the entire world didn't have any difficulty watching over the store. Acknowledging Mart's apology with a smile and a nod, she brought up what he had said before. "Mart, you mentioned that there was something else I was going to have to do with the security system. What is it?"
"You'll have to make certain that the doors and windows are all closed and locked before engaging the system," he responded simply, not wanting to worry Honey even more than she already was, and gifted Trixie with a superior look.
Trixie thanked him with a sheepish grin, overlooking his look of male superiority for Honey's sake. "You're right, Mart. I forgot that step." When she saw that Honey was still looking overwhelmed and rather wary, Trixie grabbed a pencil and some paper from the desk. "I'll write it down for you, Honey. I'll keep it nice and simple. It won't take but a minute."
"Write neatly. Please," Honey pleaded softly, her voice taking on the tone of one who had absorbed too much information at once, and thought about the monstrosity that was Trixie's handwriting. "Remember, I have to be able to read it when you're finished. I won't have you here to walk me through it." Giving Trixie the privacy to complete her task, she headed out of the room and stood next to Mart at the entrance to the room.
"It is brilliant of you to remind that sister of mine to utilize a tidy and precise handwriting. Normally I would refer to her handwriting as more of a scribble or a scrawl," Mart told her with a sly look at his sister who had her curly head bent over the desk and didn't seem to be paying the least bit of attention to them. "She does have the worst handwriting out of all of us. If it wasn't for the fact that her brain is better equipped for the pursuit of mysteries instead of medical school, one would think that she should be the one to pursue a medical degree in our family instead of Brian. She possesses the handwriting for it. Brian will have to take lessons from her to assist him with his perfect penmanship."
Honey shook her head at his foolishness. "Don't tease her too much, Mart," she whispered under her breath after hearing Trixie's unladylike and annoyed grunt. She grabbed his elbow and brought him away from the doorway. They ended up back at the counter. "Let her get ready for her date in peace. Promise me."
Mart couldn't look away from the hazel eyes that were boring a hole through him. Di had already managed to wrangle a promise out of him to leave Trixie alone as much as he possibly could. Now Honey was asking the same thing. Giving in, he reluctantly decided he could give his sister one night free from his favorite pursuit of brotherly teasing. Holding up the time-honored Boy Scout sign, he pledged truthfully, "I'll echo the words I have already given Di. I promise, Honey. I won't agitate her any further."
Honey considered him and then took his words at face-value. "Good, Mart. She deserves a nice night with Jim."
He literally had to swallow back a rather inappropriate retort that threatened to slip past his lips when he watched his sister rejoin Honey. Telling himself that he could do it, that he didn't need to poke fun at her, he stalked over to the case to get a bottle of water. Going easy on Trixie was going to be harder than he thought, he realized grimly and sighed.
When he came back, he held up his bottle. "I can be your first customer, Miss Wheeler." He put it on the counter, being careful not to look Trixie in the eye until he had his wayward sense of humor under control. "You can practice on me, Honey. I'll go easy on you."
With a look of intense concentration on her face, Honey gingerly picked up the bottle of water. Then she typed in the amount of the bottle, looked shocked when the register added in the tax for her, and accepted Mart's money for it, proud of herself for completing the task quickly and without a problem. "That was simple," she said with a nod.
"Ah, Honey?" Trixie broke in when Mart opened and closed his mouth, for once at a complete loss as to what to say. She knew he didn't care about the change but neither of them wanted Honey to make the same mistake with someone else. It would only embarrass Honey to no end. As gently as she could, she explained, "Mart should get some change back."
The blush that rose in her cheeks had nothing to with the heat the building managed to contain. Mumbling an incoherent apology, canceling out what she had already done, Honey concentrated even harder. This time she was pleasantly surprised when it all came out right and she didn't make a mistake. "Oh, it's wonderful!" she breathed out as she tore off the receipt and handed it over to Mart, along with the correct amount of coins. "Trixie is right. It's not that hard, not really."
He opened his water and took a healthy sip of it. "Good for you, Honey. You're going to do great here."
"I have it on good authority that the only people who stop by the store live on Glen Road, anyway. If I do make a mistake, I'm certain that they will forgive me. I can't imagine Regan or your mother getting mad at me because I didn't give them the right change or I charged them more than necessary." Her laugh was soft, delighted and much more relaxed. Having taken care of her first customer without too much of a problem made her feel more confident and less anxious about the whole experience.
Thankful her friend wasn't as nervous as she had once been, Trixie presented her papers to Honey with a flourish and a small bow. "I think I covered everything you could possibly need, Honey," she announced gleefully. "And, as per your request, I also wrote neatly. It hurt my wrist but you won't have any trouble reading it." She shook the slight cramp out of her right hand.
Mart leaned over the counter and peered at the writing, his eyes widening at the orderliness of it. "That has to be the neatest you've ever written, Trixie. There's got to be at least one, two or potentially ten teachers in your past who would love to get a look at this. I can't believe you can print that well."
Trixie flashed a grin back at him, unrepentant and refusing to offer an excuse for her normal handwriting. "It was never a question of if I could do it. It was more a matter of did I want to do it?" She laughed deeply. "The answer was no. I would much rather have hurried through my schoolwork than anything else. It gave me more time to do other things."
"Like solve baffling mysteries that no one else even thought were there," Mart added smartly. "Somehow I think our parents would have been much happier if you had taken more time with your schoolwork and spent less time chasing after hardened criminals."
Honey glanced up from her perusal of her cheat sheets, interrupting Trixie's response, and threw her arms around her friend. "These are perfect, Trix! Just what I needed. They'll come in very handy today. Thank you so much. I don't feel that uneasy anymore. I'll be able to make it through the day with flying colors. I just know it!"
"I'd make sure to tear apart that last sheet," Mart advised knowingly after getting a good look at it. "You wouldn't want that information to fall into the wrong hands, would you?"
Trixie didn't call him on it, actually surprised him by agreeing with him. "As much as I hate to admit it, Honey, Mart's right. I seriously doubt if Mr. Lytell would let me work here anymore if he found a piece of paper lying about detailing how to run the security system in his store in my own handwriting. He'd fire me on the spot and probably have me arrested for attempting to rob his store."
Honey placed the papers on the shelf that ran under the counter, being careful to keep the information on the security system hidden underneath the other sheets, and released a deep sigh. "Will do!" she exclaimed. "I'll tear it up right after I use it."
Mart turned to Trixie and gallantly offered, "If everything is settled between Honey and you, I'll be glad to offer you a ride home."
Blue eyes widened with surprise when Mart didn't make a smart-alecky remark to her. Wondering if the heat was starting to get to him, she accepted his offer slowly. "Thanks, Mart. That's, well, it's surprisingly very nice of you. I'll be glad to take you up on it. I'll leave my bike here in case Honey wants to use it to get home."
"I'll use it as a last resort," Honey admitted, glancing at the outside thermometer and then down at her cotton dress. "No offense, Trix, but I don't really want to ride your bike in this heat or in this dress."
"None taken, Honey." Trixie waved to her friend and walked with Mart to the screen door where a small, almost listless breeze lightly blew in. On the entrance to the store, she sent back one last, long look, feelings of gratitude and concern warring within her. She almost asked the question again but remembered that Honey had ordered her not to bring it up. She ended up settling instead for, "Call me if you need anything, Honey. I'll have my cell with me."
Honey had absolutely no intentions of calling her friend and waved off the offer with a quick flick of her hand. She figured as long as the store didn't burn down or wasn't robbed during her shift, she would be fine. "Only if there is an emergency. Otherwise, in the words from that famous holiday song, I'll muddle through somehow. Don't worry about me. Have a good time tonight, Trix." Thinking about the surprise that awaited Trixie in a few short hours, a beautiful smile worked its way across her face. She couldn't wait to hear about it. "You'll have to call me when you get home. I don't care how late it is, Trixie. I want to hear from you, all right? It's the only thing I'll ask of you," she added.
"It's the least I can do. I'll be glad to call you. 'Bye, Honey!" The door closed behind her with sound of the jingling bell that Trixie could almost hear in her sleep. As she stood on the small porch, she threw a glance over her shoulder. All she could see was Honey's bent head while she sat behind the counter, reading the newspaper.
Arms resting on the top of his car, Mart stared at her over the rim of his tinted sunglasses and called out impatiently from the small parking lot, "Are you coming, Trixie? It's too hot out here to wait any longer. If you want a ride, get a move on. Otherwise, you're going to have to ride your bike home."
Trixie came slowly down the two wooden steps, ignoring the sultry warmth of the summer day, telling herself that Honey was extremely competent and could handle anything that came her way, no matter how big or how small. Resolutely pushing aside the odd and unwelcome feeling, she climbed into the passenger seat of his Chevy Cobalt. It finally came to her; the reason why she was beginning to feel worried and concerned. It was guilt. Guilt was one of the emotions she couldn't stand experiencing. She felt guilty for pawning her job off on her friend, even though Honey was more than willing to take over for her. Knowing she would have to get it over it, and soon, Trixie settled back against the plush seat and felt the cool air from the air conditioning flow over her. Satisfied, and more than confident in Honey's ability to work at the store, she let it go. She had more pleasant things to think about, such as the handsome man who would be picking her up in a few short hours, and the wonderful evening that spread out before them.
