Separate Lives
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!
Chapter Ten
Tired from all the standing and turning, glad that she was given the okay to step down from her stool because she was finished, Trixie wandered around the large room, taking in the boisterous cycle of activity. Everyone was busy, chattering away and checking over the final details. Di's seamstresses were nearly done. She had been a much more agreeable pupil than Trixie, smiling and talking with the two workers assigned to her. Miss Trask and Mrs. Wheeler were fussing over Honey in her wedding gown, checking her over for anything that could be considered out of place. Honey accepted their perusal gracefully and indulgently. She was more than content to stand and look at herself in the mirror. Every once in a while she fluffed out her skirt like a four year-old playing dress-up. Trixie imagined accurately that Honey was also picturing in her mind how she would look in her veil, her jewelry and her bouquet. Needing something to occupy her mind besides pins, sizes, fabric, and chat about the wedding itself, Trixie walked to the farthest corner and, since it was safe to do so, brushed back a cream-colored curtain. The outside world beckoned her. It was bright and sunny, a picture perfect spring day, with only a hint of a breeze stirring the trees.
A flash of motion drew her attention. A dark purple sedan crested the steep hill and pulled to a stop next to the line of cars littering the driveway. She didn't have to see the person inside to know who was parking the vehicle. Turning back, watching the rest of the inhabitants finish up their fittings, she inched her way towards the door, and forgot that she was still dressed in her bridesmaid gown, without any shoes upon her feet. "I'll be back in a minute," she called out and got a careless wave from Honey, who was smoothing down the folds of her wide skirt and studying the simple, sparkling crystals that ran the length from waist to floor. Grinning, feeling like she had gotten away with something, and absolutely delighted to be fleeing the extremely feminine and yet absolutely wonderful scene, Trixie opened the door and slipped through it without a second thought.
On bare feet, she padded down the hallway and threw back the front door, right when her brother was starting up the path to the house. "Mart!" she called and then rushed onto the porch as fast as the long skirt of her dress would allow her to. She nearly tripped at the top of the step and grabbed the porch railing to help steady her. Pathetical grateful not to have tumbled down the steps and fallen at his feet, she consciously slowed her body down in her rush to get to him.
Mart came to a sudden halt. He let the ungraceful moment go, figuring he had something better to tease her about. He snapped on his sunglasses, which had been dangling from his fingers, bent his head, and looked away from her. "My God, Trix! I can't seem to stare straight at you without losing my sense of sight. The sunlight glinting off your dress is blinding me. Hell, Trixie, you're looking awfully...golden," he said with his devilish grin. Secretively he thought that she looked terrific but there was simply no way he could bring himself to say those exact words to her. "What happened to you? Did you run into King Midas?"
"Ha, ha." For old times' sake, Trixie stuck her tongue out at him. "You can't blame me on this one. Honey picked the color. And you can't complain about the dress, either, since your wife is wearing the exact same one." She approached him, picking her way carefully along the path. Because the small gravel of the path was poking the soft pads of her bare feet, she tugged his hand and brought him over onto the grass where she sighed in immediate appreciation. She curled her toes into the soft grass. Much better than rocks, she thought blissfully. Her bare feet poked out from under the skirt. She wondered why she had forgotten that she was shoeless.
Mart stared down at her feet and shook his head in sham disappointment. "Tsk. Tsk. A formal dress and no shoes to speak of. Goodness, Beatrix. You're going to be twenty-five years old next month. You would think that someone would have taught you how to dress by now." His voice rang out with brotherly despair.
Years ago, she would have become frustrated with him and snapped back. As she had grown older, she had learned that it was better, if not as much fun, if she didn't take the bait. "It's a new fashion statement," she replied with a cheeky grin. "It's all the rage now out on the West Coast. I'm certain it'll make it back East soon enough. Before you know it, Di, Honey and every other woman in Sleepyside will be doing the same thing."
He gave a loud bark of laughter, pleased with her response. Glancing around casually, hoping to catch a glimpse of his wife, he hooked a thumb towards the door and wondered, "Where is everyone else?"
"Still inside. In the formal living room. It's the room with all of the curtains drawn on it, in case you were wondering. That's where we did our fittings today," Trixie added, delighted that they had a few uninterrupted minutes alone. "The seamstresses are almost finished with our active participation. Miss Trask and Mrs. Wheeler were gathered around Honey when I left. They were discussing the wedding gown and checking it over. Di's just about done, too. She's probably getting changed as we speak."
Mart stood on his tiptoes, almost as if the simple move could make his wife appear through the door. When she didn't, he released a disappointed sigh. He missed her. "I've come for Di. When will she be out?"
"Soon, I'm certain." Trixie looked at him innocently although there was a spark of humor to her knowing blue eyes that he missed in his preoccupation with his wife. "Di mentioned that she needed to leave early today but she didn't say where the two of you were going." She thought the little white lie was worth it. She pointedly didn't say anything else, merely waited to see how he would respond, uncertain if he would hem and haw an answer or completely overlook her question. Lying wasn't the best option for him. He wasn't the best of liars. His face always gave it away. Like most of the Beldens, he was too expressive.
As expected, Mart fumbled for a response. The urge to tell the news, to share it, especially with Trixie, especially when they were alone, was very strong but he couldn't, not without angering his wife. Di was adamant about waiting. As much as he would like to tell Trixie, he couldn't. His hands were tied. "It's my car," he finally concluded truthfully, if a little lamely. "We're picking it up from the shop. It's finally finished."
"Right. And you need Di to drive over with you," Trixie stated calmly. Teasing Mart wasn't an opportunity that afforded itself often. She couldn't give it up. Stifling a laugh, she put her hands on her hips, tapped a finger against her chin, and observed, "That seems a little suspicious to me. Never mind the fact that the shop is in town and any number of your work associates could have driven you over, if you really needed a ride." Then she slapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh, and you can't forget that the station is practically a hop, skip and a jump away from the auto shop. I haven't been away from Sleepyside for that long to forget the lay-out of the town, you know," she added smartly.
Sputtering for a response, trying to come up with any plausible excuse, Mart turned a bright, vibrant red. He with the golden tongue had absolutely nothing to say. When he got a long look at his sister's grinning face, his mouth hit the ground. "You know," he stated slowly, drawing the words out and blue eyes widening to twice their normal size. Bewildered, he demanded, "How the hell do you know?"
Trixie nodded her head, her smile the largest it had ever been. "It was the dress, Mart. Di's dress. There is just enough material in it to be altered for her. I overheard one of her seamstresses chastising her about the weight she's gained since the last fitting. Di tried to hide it from me but she couldn't. She knows that I know but no one else in there knows, if you follow what I mean. I'll respect your wishes, though. I won't tell anyone else. I promise." Then Trixie let out a loud, boisterous laugh and flung her arms around Mart, who lifted her up off her feet and swung her in a joyous circle. "I'm so happy for you two, Mart! Our first baby. Congratulations."
Our first baby. Any baby of a Bob-White would automatically become community property. It felt so damn good to share the news with someone else. The fact that it was Trixie only made it that much sweeter. He had never let on how much he missed her or how much he wished that she would uproot herself from San Diego and move back to Sleepyside. Mart stopped the spinning and laid his head on top of her rioting curls. "Thanks, Trix. We're pretty happy ourselves," he shared, his voice whisper-soft yet full of all the love and awe he felt for the unborn baby.
The simple gesture made her heart swell. While Mart could be the biggest pain in her entire world, he was also the one sibling she had the strongest of connections with. She couldn't have been happier for him. "Di wasn't able to say too much in there. She wants to keep it a secret a while longer. Like I said before, I promised not to tell anyone. I tried to convince her that no one would mind but I couldn't persuade her. After seeing Honey in her wedding gown, I can see why Di wants to wait," Trixie admitted with another little laugh. "Di had enough of a chance to let me know the baby is due in October, though."
"October. It's got to be a Belden tradition. The firstborn must be born in that month." Mart shook his head, chuckling at his observation. "We're going in for our three month visit today," he shared with a light to his eyes that seemed to be shining from somewhere deep inside him. It was much brighter than the sun and more brilliant than Trixie had ever seen before. "We get to hear the heartbeat again, have another ultrasound. It's going to be amazing. I can't wait."
"Will you find out if you're having a boy or girl?" Trixie wondered, amazed that Mart was only months away from becoming a parent. It was nearly unfathomable. Her brother was going to become a daddy. And, a tiny voice inside her reminded her, she wasn't going to be around to experience all of the joys and pitfalls of watching her little niece or nephew grow up. The realization made her frown, which she resolutely smoothed away.
"It's too early for that," he remarked, unaware of the train of thought that had momentarily derailed Trixie. "It's usually after the twentieth week that you can find that out. Even then, it's not always conclusive. The baby also has to cooperate. If he or she is turned the wrong way...well, it may have to remain a secret, whether the parents want it to be or not."
"You've been reading up on it," Trixie noted, her dimples winking in her cheeks. Leave it to Mart to become an expert on pregnancy. She could visualize the mountain of books at his house, waiting for him to start devouring them, and imagined that he must have visited every single prenatal website out there. She bet that he was probably close to knowing more about pregnancy than their obstetrician.
"Of course," Mart retorted with a proud toss of his head. "The day after we found out, I drove into White Plains and raided Barnes and Nobles. I surprised Di with all the literature when she got home from work. She was very impressed. We've got them all, Trix. Every single, fantastic one." He spread his hands out before him, excited and jubilant, and shared in a low, confidential voice, "Between you and me, I think I'm starting to drive Di a little crazy." He sent her a broad wink.
"Good for her. Di's finally seen the light," Trixie quipped back. Her cheerful chuckle mixed with his. She wrapped her arms around her waist, warming herself up when a light spring breeze blew by, but didn't make a move to head back to the warmth of the house. She wanted to stay with Mart. Pitching her voice low, she continued, "Since we're not going to have that many opportunities to discuss this before the wedding, I have to ask again. Will you find out? Pink or blue?"
"We're still talking about it. I'm in favor of leaving the very best of life's little surprises until the very last moment. Di, well…her mother didn't even realize she was having twins both times until she was in the delivery room. The ultrasound pictures never picked up on the other twin. One twin was always hiding behind the other. Go figure. Because of that, Di's not that big on surprises. I think she wants to know." He shrugged his shoulders, more than willing to give in if it would make his wife happy. "We'll see who wins out in the end."
Trixie couldn't help but grin. Somehow she knew that they would be finding out when they reached that magical mark for the ultrasound. She closed eyes, imagining the new baby Belden. Boy or girl; blonde or brunette; blue-eyed or violet…it didn't matter. The little one would be loved by one and all. "Well, I'm very happy for you, Mart. Couldn't be happier, in fact," she insisted and rocked back on her heels. Tongue-in-cheek, she added, "In fact, I hope he or she is exactly like you."
"Thanks. I…" Then he stopped while the true meaning of her words filtered in. "Trixie!" he exclaimed and gave her a not-so-gentle push.
Trixie stumbled back but caught herself before she fell on her bottom. "Mart Belden!" she admonished, shaking an accusing finger in his direction. "Honey would kill you if I fell and got grass stains on my dress!" She tried to frown at him but she simply couldn't. She was too happy. About to say something else, she saw another motion with her peripheral vision. Her amusement fled while she identified the person cutting across the lawn, a good twenty feet away from them. Tall, redhead, and coming out from the path that led to Ten Acres. Her body went a little stiff before she forced herself to relax. Truce, truce, truce, she kept saying inwardly, reminding herself of their agreement. They had a truce to maintain.
Mart stepped closer to her. He put a comforting, brotherly hand at her waist. "It'll be okay, Trix," he whispered into her ear.
"I know. I know. I told you last night at dinner that we've come to an understanding because of the wedding," she answered, grateful that he was willing to offer her support. He never let her down, not when push came to shove, but she was determined not to need it this time around. They were going to do better than merely muddle through. "Things won't be exactly easier but we actually had an entire conversation yesterday. That's ground-breaking for us. He told me about his plans to build his house up at Ten Acres. In fact, I bet that's where he's coming from."
Mart inclined his head to the side. He hadn't been aware that Jim was considering building his own house. The fact that his sister was the one to share it with him was a sign of definite progress. He gave her a squeeze and lifted a lazy hand when Jim headed in their direction. "Hey, Jim," he yelled out, wanting to thaw out any ice that may beginning to form. "It seems we're a little underdressed today. Only formal attire required."
"Oh, gleeps!" Trixie exclaimed, Mart's joke putting her at ease the exact way he had intended it to. Shoulders slumped, she stared down at her dress in comical dismay. Her hands gripped the skirt and pulled it out. Chewing on her bottom lip, she glanced guiltily towards the house. "I forgot about my dress. I should probably be getting back inside."
Seeing her decked out in shiny, shimmery gold rated right up there as one of the best images he had ever had the good fortune to see. The only other color that would have been a better match was her favorite blue. With her glowing tan and her spiraling blonde curls framing her face, she looked gorgeous. Then he noticed her unpainted toenails peeping out from under the skirt. Only Trixie would be running around in a formal gown and bare feet. Afraid he had been staring too long, and more than grateful for Mart's presence, he cleared his throat and said, hoping he didn't sound like an idiot, "That's right. It's fitting day today. Is it going well?"
"My dress is done," she said with a little laugh that was almost normal-sounding. "I just forgot to hang it up." Her lips curled up, a little hesitatingly but with more warmth than she usually displayed around Jim, and her gaze actually stayed on his for the entire time they were talking.
A keen observer, Mart watched the by-play between the two with interest. Certainly not even or easy, but they were clearly making headway. It was already better than her return home on Sunday. Even more unbelievable, they were actually looking at each other. Not only were they looking but they were talking. Despite Jim's best attempt to keep his face even, Mart couldn't help but see the spark of interest in his eyes or the valiant way he was trying not to look Trixie up and down while they were watching him. Mart nodded his head, thought that he would have a good report to share with any inquiring minds who wanted to know, starting with his wife, and pointed towards the window. Two familiar heads were waving their hands out the window. "You're being paged, Trix," he informed her helpfully.
She whirled around. The material of the skirt followed her movements, its motion as fluid and simple as water. She didn't notice the way it drew Jim's eyes or that he was having a lot of trouble trying to look somewhere else. "You're right. There's Honey. It looks like she wants me to come back inside. But I'm not the only one being paged, Mart. I think Di's ready for you."
When Jim finally brought his gaze upwards from her skirt, he got his first look at her back and nearly perished from the tantalizing sight. A strap of skimpy material encircled her neck. Her upper back and shoulders were completely bare. His fingers practically demanded to reach out and touch the large amount of skin that was revealed to him. The sight made him either want to gouge his eyes out, stare at her like a love-struck teenager, or drown in a pool of the sudden desire that began to pour through his blood. He didn't know whether to brain Honey or bless her for the choice in bridesmaid dresses. In his opinion, she couldn't have picked a better one to complement Trixie's figure and coloring. He did know that he was extremely grateful for a sneak peek of his partner in all of her wedding finery. At least he wouldn't be blindsided on Saturday by her beauty. It was only Tuesday. He had a few days available for him to regain the use of his brain for the next time she stood before him in that damning dress.
"You're right, Trix. My fair lady is waving both of us on," Mart agreed cheerfully. "Let's return you to the fold." He grabbed her elbow and, since he realized Jim didn't seem capable of speech at the moment, tugged her towards the stairs. Trying not to laugh, he inquired, well aware of the fact that Jim probably wouldn't have a clue what he was asking him, "Where were you coming from again, Jim? Did you go for a walk in the woods?"
Jim took up the rear, his eyes devouring the exposed skin of her back. His hands were tight fisted balls at his sides. The question jolted him out of his preoccupation. His name had registered but he hadn't heard a single other word. "What?" he barked out, louder than necessary, and earned him a patronizingly placating glance from Mart and a clearly confused one from Trixie.
Mart's lips twitched, delighted that he had caught Jim in the process of ogling his sister. More progress than he expected, he realized with a start, and filed it away for further evaluation. It would be quite the topic of an interesting conversation on the way in to doctor's office. Di would find it as amusing as he did. "I'll keep it simple for you. This is what I was asking. Where…did…you…come…from?" he voiced again, intentionally leaving a large amount of time in-between words.
Hand on the door handle, Trixie frowned with flagrant disapproval at her brother, having missed out entirely on Jim's preoccupation with her. Then she tossed a look over her shoulder at Jim and offered him an apology, "We tried to teach him better manners, Jim. We really did. They just never took."
She made him laugh. For one brief, shining moment their eyes met, held, and shared more than a spark of their former relationship. Contentment and comfort. Humor and happiness. It was so close, so almost close enough for him to touch or feel or even taste it. His mouth lifted at the corners and he took an automatic step towards her before he paused, unsure what he wanted to do next, of what he should do next.
"Too funny, my dear Beatrix." Mart used her hated full name and, to add insult to injury, chucked her under the chin with an easy fist. He laughed when she narrowed her eyes at him. Before she could verbally, or physically, retaliate, he slanted a glance towards Jim and brought him back into the conversation. "Jim still hasn't answered my question, has he?"
He willed his heart to go back to its normal rate. For some reason it had started to race. Jim rubbed a hand over the internal organ and focused on the question at hand. It was more difficult than he thought it would be, with Trixie standing before him. "I was up at Ten Acres," he replied, after recalling what, exactly, Mart had asked him. "My contractor called me back late yesterday afternoon and offered to come out today to look over the building site. He wanted to get a good visual on what we're going to be doing up there. We're putting the final touches on the plans. Once all of the permits have been approved, we'll be ready to start breaking ground."
"You're building your house?" Mart inquired. He lifted his eyebrows and acted surprised even though Trixie had told him that exact same thing a few minutes ago.
Jim nodded his head curtly. It took all he had within him to focus on Mart and not stare at Trixie. "The hope is to have the house up and finished by the middle of September. My contractor thinks that it is an entirely feasible possibility."
"How about that? Another Bob-White is coming home to roost." Mart gave a small chuckle at his witty rejoinder. He nudged Trixie with his elbow. "That only leaves you and Dan, squaw. Any plans for you to move back home?" The question was light but his eyes were serious. With the new baby along the way, there wasn't anything he'd like more than Trixie coming home. Permanently.
In her deepest thoughts, in the darkest corner of her heart, she contemplated such a move. It was definitely tempting. She missed home more than she ever admitted to anyone, even to herself. While Trixie wanted to give her brother a sarcastic reply for daring to bring up such a subject in front of Jim, she held back the strong urge and answered simply, "You never know." Unmindful of the look of surprise on her brother's face, she opened the front door and closed the subject, "Are you coming in?"
"No. I'll wait for Diana out here." Puzzled, Mart mulled over her answer and wondered at what it meant. Having Trixie home, in Sleepyside, would be...great. It was certainly food for thought. With his mind full of the possibility, he took up residence against the porch railing and crossed his arms.
"All right, Mart. I'll send her out when she's done. It shouldn't take her that long. She's probably already dressed in her regular clothes." She gingerly picked up her skirt between her thumbs and index fingers and spread it out. "I can't wait to get out of mine!" She slid one more look their way. Her eyes laid a smidgeon longer on Jim before she went through the front door. It closed behind her with a definite click.
Mart focused his attention on the closed front door. He waited a long minute to see if Jim would say anything. When his friend seemed content to stand on the top step and stare at the front door as if he had never seen it before, Mart correctly guessed what Jim was thinking about. Since the two of them were on the best terms they had been on since Jim and Trixie had broken up, Mart decided to open the discussion. "You know," he began idly, tapping a foot against the painted floorboards in deceptive negligence, "you couldn't have been more obvious out here, Jim." He nodded in the direction of the front yard.
He was still staring at the front door, imagining Trixie inside. She would be getting ready to take off that gorgeous gown. She had just told them that. He almost thought that if he focused hard enough he could hear it unzipping, even though there was the thick wall of the house, a good amount of insulation, a main hall and a short walk to the formal living room residing between them. Since he couldn't hear it, he let his imagination take over. The smooth material would slide down her body, most likely carelessly since he doubted if she would take her time with the dress, and would make a golden pool at her feet…her bare feet, he added. And then, she would be standing there, gloriously… A bark of laughter brought him out of his reverie. "Huh?" he responded, shaking his head. He had forgotten all about Mart.
Mart studied him so closely, so knowingly, that Jim turned red and almost squirmed. "How the hell have you managed to hide this from us for the past seven years? I can't believe it. You've never gotten over her. Have you?" Mart inquired with an awed tone to his voice. He hadn't ever fully realized it before. He ran through what he knew about Jim, in the post-Trixie years. Schooling, schooling, and more schooling. Work for his father. A few dates here and there but never anything serious and certainly never anyone who ever made it home to Sleepyside to meet the family or the Bob-Whites. That information only came out second-hand, usually through Honey. Jim was remarkably tightlipped about his social life, meager though it was.
Jim's glare served as his only answer. It should have reduced Mart to a pile of ashes. The fact that Mart was speaking the truth didn't allow him any form of defense. Hiding behind a lie wasn't in his nature. Wanting to get away, needing to get away, he stalked over to the door but was brought to a halt by Mart.
"Come on, Jim. There's no need to get huffy or anything. I'm only stating the obvious. If you want, you can stay and keep me company while I wait for my wife." Mart lifted his eyebrows innocently. The challenge was offered. The glove was thrown. He waited to see if Jim would accept it or not. He had never known Jim Frayne to back down from a challenge and he waited with bated anticipation for his response.
Jim grumbled under his breath, long, low and definitely not excited. There were a few uglier words he wouldn't have used in the presence of many. But he would be branded a coward in Mart's eyes if he were to enter the house. He knew it. Even though the front door beckoned him, he turned his back on it and took three large steps over towards Mart, finally settling himself against the porch railing. He kept a good amount of distance between him and Mart, and he did it all without saying a single word.
Jim didn't need to say anything for Mart to know that he was annoyed. Because of that, and because it was much too fun to poke fun at the sulking redhead, Mart nodded approvingly and congratulated him, "Good choice." He leaned back against the railing, wrapped a hand around the porch post, and shared, "If I hadn't known that you've never gotten over Trixie, the fact that your tongue has been lolling out of your mouth ever since you saw her in her bridesmaid dress would have clued me in."
"Shut up, Mart," Jim ordered him lowly, eyes glaring out of thin green slits. A dangerous scowl descended across his face, promising retribution at the earliest possible moment. It was clearer than the finest of crystal that he wanted an end to the conversation. The sooner, the better. "I don't want to talk about it."
Mart, being Mart, started to whistle cheerfully and sailed on, as if he hadn't heard Jim, although he most certainly had. "I'm not going to share my thoughts on my sister. She's, well…she's my sister so we'll have to leave it at that. But you couldn't take your eyes off of her, Frayne, no matter how hard you try to convince me, or yourself, that you couldn't." His smile was one of pure unconcealed glee. "I saw it."
"Ohh," a new voice inserted into the conversation, directly below them on the lawn. A few long, swift steps, a bound up the stairs, and their newest member was sidling up next to the railing, making them a trio, and grinning. "This sounds like a very interesting conversation. I see you're braving the taboo subject, Mart. Good for you!" Dan clapped his best friend on the shoulder and, with a cunning grin that had Jim groaning, edged a hip along the railing, obviously prepared to stay for the duration of what promised to be an fascinating and entertaining couple of minutes.
Jim blew out a frustrated breath and stared up at the ceiling. Suddenly heading inside didn't seem like such a bad idea even if it was cowardly and spineless. He now had two annoying and irritating Bob-Whites breathing down his neck. Worse, one of them had witnessed a tiny, practically meaningless indiscretion of his. He didn't know who he should swear more viciously at: Mart or that damn golden dress. "Why me?" he grumbled rhetorically.
Dan couldn't help it. He laughed. There was nothing quite like seeing cool, confident, and composed Jim Frayne out of balance. He brushed a piece of nonexistent lint off of the sleeve of his dark blue Henley and posed the question at large, "What have I missed so far?"
"Not much," Jim grouched, not an ounce of good humor left on his face. It was coming. He could feel it. Ducking his head, he began to trace idle circles on the railing. Anything was better than staring at the two grinning faces on the idiots gloating in front of him. It sucked that he was going to get it from both barrels. Any moment now.
"Not much, he says." Mart shook his head, disappointed in Jim's answer, and pointed accusingly at him. "As our resident dictionary, allow me to interpret Jim's rather pitiful phrase for you, Dan. 'Not much' in this case really means a whole lot."
"Thank you, oh wise one." Dan couldn't help but appreciate the moment. Jim looked as uncomfortable as he could get, kind of like an insect that was pinned to a board. Finding out what happened to put him in such a state promised to be the most fun he had had in a long time. With Mart acting as his partner in crime, the experience couldn't get any better. "I wouldn't have been able to figure that one out without your assistance."
Mart bowed to Dan, choosing to overlook the sarcasm, and completely ignored the fact that Jim looked as if he wanted to toss both of them over the railing at any possible moment. "I'll start at the beginning, Mangan. It wasn't a long meeting by any stretch of the imagination. We all know that the inhabitants here in Sleepyside tend to have very strong and very active imaginations but that's beside the point." Enjoying the moment, he added, "You see, Dan, I witnessed something earlier. It was fleeting and didn't last all that long but I think it was very important. Now I'm merely attempting to prod something out of our friend here."
"About damn time," Dan muttered under his breath, having a pretty good idea that the 'something' involved a neighboring blonde of the feminine variety. He crossed his ankles, posed negligently against the railing, and faced Jim. He decided that the poor sap had two options. Jim could either 'fess up or suffer through their interrogation. He decided to give him a chance first. "So, are you going to tell me or am I going to have to drag it out of you?"
Jim suddenly found the ceiling extremely interesting. After thoughtfully counting the many different nails that had gone into the spot directly above him, he replied, knowing that neither of them would let him get away with the pitiful amount of information he wanted to share with them, "We've got a little truce going on," Jim mumbled lowly, neither agreeing, contradicting or adding to any of Mart's statements.
"Really?" Dan's eyes flared with interest. Since he had spent the past evening with Mr. Maypenny and his uncle at the cabin in the woods, he hadn't attended the dinner at Mart's house the night before and also hadn't talked to any of the other Bob-Whites. A truce between Jim and Trixie sounded promising. He deliberated the matter, quickly came to the conclusion that wasn't the entire story. "But that can't be all. Can it?"
"Our good buddy Jim here suggested it," Mart supplied helpfully. This time Jim did squirm. "Trixie told me about it last night when she came over for dinner. She was rather nonchalant over the whole escapade but I think she's secretly relieved." Reaching across, he gave a playful punch to Jim's shoulder. "She smiled when she told me."
"You probably interrogated her," Dan broke in knowingly, trying not to chuckle at the brightening flush spreading its way across Jim's face. He thought it wouldn't be too long before Jim's face was as red as his hair.
"Heh." Mart raised his shoulders, tried to pull off innocent and failed miserably. "Interrogation, interview, a friendly question and answer period between siblings. Really, what is the difference? I found out what I wanted to find out and she didn't kill me, much like I think our silent companion over here would like to do right now." He aimed a large, toothy grin towards Jim, who was glowering in his direction. It was easy to see that Jim was planning out many different and satisfying ways of maiming him.
"Got that right," Jim grumbled under his breath, eyes slitted and glowing a bright, vivid emerald.
"Can't do that!" Dan exclaimed, enjoying the moment more than he had ever thought possible. Jim was never an easy one to tease. The fact that they were teasing him about Trixie, of all people, made it that much sweeter. "It may make things a little more peaceful around here but Di wouldn't like it, Jim. I really wouldn't recommend it. There's also the fact that I work in law enforcement. It would be a shame to have a DEA agent testify against you at your trial, Jim. I wouldn't be able to lie, either. It would most likely be the nail in your figurative coffin."
Jim didn't waste a minute before tossing back, "Murder may not be the way to go but there's nothing wrong with imagining it." Normally, he would have enjoyed the banter if he wasn't the one enduring the brunt of it.
"We're forgetting the point, Mangan," Mart broke in. "Let's try and stay on task, all right? I doubt if your supervisors would appreciate it if you continued to interrupt an important briefing or whatever you call your meetings."
"I hate to agree with you, Belden, and I definitely don't want to inflate your ego anymore than it already is, but you're right," Dan agreed immediately. He ran a hand over his dark black hair. "We need to stay focused. I do believe there was a mention of a truce?"
"Yes. A truce we have." Mart leaned forward, closing the space between him and Dan, and said in a loud stage whisper, "In case you haven't figured it out already, it's between our co-presidents."
"Thank you for clearing that up. It makes the most sense. After all, they are the only ones who haven't been on the best of speaking terms for a while now. But there has to be more than just a mere truce," Dan broke in, pointing to the silent one in their triumvirate. "Jim here wouldn't be glowering at you if there wasn't, Mart. He also wouldn't be wishing you dead, either. So, that leads us back to the beginning. What happened?"
Knowing he was trapped, well aware that they would only hound him if he decided to stomp away from them, Jim threw his hands in the air and gave up. He rested against the porch, knew the flush on his cheeks would only get worse before it got better, and decided that the dress was the one at fault. How was he not to react to her in it? he asked himself. He hadn't had any defenses built up, had absolutely no idea that she would look like some kind of a pagan goddess to the sun in it. His sigh was deep, frustrated, and annoyed. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he couldn't decide if he wanted to feel the emotions he was experiencing or if he would have been better off without them.
The sigh drew Mart's attention. He swung his head around and said directly to Jim, "I haven't finished with the truce portion of our discussion yet. Seriously, I think it's going to be good for both of you. It'll make things a lot easier on Brian and Honey, as well as on you and Trixie, also." Mart nodded his head sagely in appreciation. "Plus we won't have that god-awful moment when we first gather together. You know the one I'm talking about, right? Jim? Dan? No one can miss it but, just in case you don't know what I'm talking about, I'll be glad to explain it. It's that first time when the two of you get together. Every single time. We find it kind of old and a bit uncomfortable, too. Don't we, Dan?"
"It would be nice to see the end of that." Dan gave an exaggerated shudder, telling them plainly how much he enjoyed those many shared and unforgettable experiences. "You forgot to add in unpleasant, Mart," he confided in an aside.
Jim couldn't get angry without feeling like the biggest hypocrite ever. After all, Mart wasn't saying anything that wasn't completely and one hundred percent true. It just plain sucked that he didn't have any kind of opportunity to defend himself. That truce idea, while certainly a necessary one, was turning into the dumbest idea he had ever had. Not because of Trixie but because of the rest of the idiots he had the privilege of calling friends. He hadn't predicted what some of the other Bob-Whites would do with the knowledge once they found out but he should have. Mart and Dan were having a field day with it. At least he could count on the others to go easier on him. He sincerely doubted if Honey, Di or Brian would demand a pound of flesh from him in the form of unending teasing.
"We've gotten seriously off track here, Dan. Again. The truce isn't the only thing you need to know about," Mart said, choosing to overlook Jim's lack of response. It was expected. He wasn't offended by it in the least.
"I know there has to be something else." Dan patted his thighs, preparing himself for what was to come next. The smile he aimed at Jim was lethal, as was the glint of dark delight in his eyes. It was about time that there was a crack in one of them. He only hoped that the crack wouldn't be able to be fixed, would continue to grow and flourish until the walls that had been built came tumbling down. "Let's hear it, Mart."
"Trixie came out to see me right after I parked Di's car. You know Trix. She probably couldn't stand being cooped up in the that room any longer." He closed his eyes, recalling how Di had complained about Trixie during the fitting for the bridesmaid's dresses for their wedding. His sister was not the most patient person in the world. Sitting or standing, she couldn't do either for very long without wanting to do something else.
"Ah. Right. It's the final fitting for the dresses." Elbows on the railing, Dan contemplated the morning. His predictions were stunningly accurate. "Knowing Honey, she was probably in seventh heaven because she couldn't wait to try on her dress again. She probably had to be coerced into taking it off. Di would have enjoyed it, too, since she loves to get dressed up. But let's face it. Trixie has never been a big fan of extremely girly things. She was probably looking for any reason to get out of that room."
"Well, she came straight out to greet me. She's in charge of letting my wife know that I'm here, you know," Mart added, keeping one eye on the front door. So far it was still closed. Since he was expecting Di any moment, he decided to hurry things along. "But I'm digressing here. As I said, she came straight out, all dressed up in her fancy bridesmaid dress, I might add."
Jim wasn't paying the two of them the least bit of attention. He suddenly found the floor extremely interesting. Like he had counted the heads of the nails above, he began counting the floorboards below. He knew what was coming next. It didn't help his cause any that he could remember perfectly how she had looked in her dress or how much he had wanted to feel it against her skin. Damn, damn and triple damn, he thought with a deepening, unpleasant scowl.
From the look on Mart's face, Dan realized that whatever had happened had been good. Not only that but it had amused his friend to no end. "Is it a nice dress?" he asked when it seemed like Mart wanted him to say something.
"I don't really know," Mart replied with a shrug. "I mean, it's a dress but it was on my sister, for crying out loud. I didn't take much notice of it, if you know what I mean, other than to see that it was gold. We'll have to ask Jim here if he thought it was nice. He'll give us a better opinion than a brother." He turned innocently towards his friend, who didn't lift his head up from the floor.
When Jim didn't take the hint, Dan kicked him in the shin, causing him to finally break his untimely preoccupation with the floor and glare at him. "Nice or not?" Dan inquired, itching to laugh when he got a look at the frustrated expression on Jim's face. It was rare for him to exhibit any emotion when talk turned to Trixie. He had always preferred hiding behind that horrible impenetrable wall. Dan took it as a good sign that Jim was more open than normal. He took it as an even better sign that Mart was teasing him about it.
"Nice," Jim growled out lowly, unwilling to say anything more. Many other superlatives came to mind, all true and all better than a mere 'nice', but, if he had chosen to use any of them, the two men before him would have eaten him alive. He wasn't giving them that chance. 'Nice' would have to suffice.
"All the man can say is nice," Mart repeated incredulously, shaking his head and then chortling with glee. "He couldn't stop looking at her. I had to get his attention a few times because he was so affected by my sister. He's not sharing how he really thought she looked. Why he thought she looked like that is beyond me. I'll admit that she looked better than normal but that's about as far as I'm willing to go."
She must have been stunning to have caused that crack in Jim's stony foundation. It was on the tip of Dan's tongue to quip something back to Mart about Jim being unable to resist Trixie in a fancy dress but he caught himself in time. It wouldn't be right to bring up her prom and what he suspected happened afterwards. Jim would find it highly embarrassing and Mart, if he figured it out…Dan decided it was safer all around not to go there. Mart would be better off believing his sister and Jim never progressed that far in their relationship. "I guess I'll have to wait until Saturday," Dan bemoaned with sham disappointment. "I'll give you my opinion then."
Jim trailed his hand along the smooth railing of the porch, still unwilling to meet either of their all-too-knowing gazes. They had poked enough holes at what he perceived to be a weakness of his. He wasn't willing to wait for more. "Are you finished yet?" he asked sarcastically when the silence stretched on for a few blissful seconds.
Mart considered the question from all angles. Taking an exorbitant amount of time before he answered, he finally came out with, "Yeah. I think I am."
"Smart ass," Dan threw his way, just because he felt like calling spade a spade. Secretly, he was congratulating Mart. Mart had to be the only one out of all of them who could have teased Jim so unmercifully about Trixie without causing the redhead to leave in a fit of temper. The two had created a different type of camaraderie than they used to have, starting right after they had settled their own differences with Trixie's decision to move out to California.
About to give a not-so-very flattering assessment of Dan's character, Mart was interrupted by the opening of the front door opened. Dressed in eye-catching purple, Di breezed out. She approached the trio of gentlemen with a warm smile on her face. "Hello, guys," she greeted them happily. "Isn't it lovely to have not one, not two, but three handsome men out here waiting for me?"
Mart immediately lost his teasing posture. Looking like the besotted husband that he was, he left his post and immediately went to stand by her. He took her hand protectively in his and walked her over to the front stairs. "That's one handsome man," he corrected her with a wink at the other two and nuzzled her head with his chin.
Because it would have been childish and Jim didn't want to give Mart any more ammunition than he already had, he wisely kept his mouth shut and didn't make a crack about the fact that Mart was most definitely whipped. "Where are you two going?" he questioned instead, pathetically grateful to have the conversation turned onto something else beside him and Trixie.
"We're heading into town," Di explained, wondering why there was an odd vibe around the three. It seemed to be centered on…Jim, she decided after correctly reading his flushed face and Mart and Dan's humorous ones. She shook her head and came to the conclusion that she would have to weasel it out of Mart on the ride into Sleepyside. She knew how to get almost anything out of him. It wouldn't take too long before he told her everything. Because there was a light at the end of her tunnel, she overlooked it and said, "We're picking up Mart's car from the shop."
"You don't have to leave, Di. I'll be glad to drive Mart in," Dan immediately offered, thinking that she would like to stay with the girls and do whatever it was that needed done before the wedding.
"Oh, no, Dan. It's okay. I don't mind," Di declined the offer as graciously as possible, doing her best to ignore the flush that was heating her face. Before Dan could make the offer again, which would only result in her having to refuse it again, she turned to her husband and suggested, "We should probably get going, Mart. I think the shop said that the car would be ready at eleven-thirty." Her ears turned pink with the lie. They had their doctor's appointment at eleven-thirty.
He understood. Di was a terrible secret-keeper. Soothingly, he caressed her back and led her towards the steps, away from the others. Lucky for him, Jim still hadn't recovered from their earlier conversation. And Dan was still too amused to look any farther into Di's odd reaction. "Let's go, Di. See you around, boys."
"You don't have to say it," Dan whispered under his breath as he waved back to the departing duo. Eyebrows lifted while Mart held onto her elbow and carefully led her over the small gravel of the path, treating her as if she was made of fragile china.
The same thought was swirling through his mind. "I completely agree with you," Jim said just as quietly back, low so that the wind wouldn't carry his words back to Mart and Di.
"Mart is so whipped." Deep chortles started low and came out. It startled the pair who had reached their car. They threw puzzled looks his way but Dan waved them off. Turning back, he shook his head at Jim and said, "Brian is just as bad about Honey. Sometimes I feel like I've gone into sugar shock if I spend too much time alone with either of our Bob-White couples."
"Tell me about it. It'll only get worse once they have children, too." Jim gave a small laugh, picturing the mini-versions that would most likely come from the two sets of couples. "My mother is already starting to murmur about grandchildren. I've heard her discussing it with my father. I don't think she's mentioned it to Honey yet. She's probably waiting until after they return home from their honeymoon."
"Little Bob-Whites." Dan muttered it under his breath, having never considered the possibility before of having tiny Bob-White babies crawling around Sleepyside. He didn't know if he should be touched or scared. "That's hard to believe. Can you imagine what the spawn of Mart will be like?"
"At least the baby will have a fighting chance," Jim retorted, chuckling. "He or she will have half of Di's genes to help balance Mart's out."
Dan shivered, imagining the possibilities. Then he turned more serious, recalling the conversation they had before Mart left. "All teasing aside, are things going better for you and Trixie?" Dan said while he watched Mart open the passenger door for Di and usher her inside the car. He closed it and then skirted around the hood to the driver's side. Dan waved yet again when the car drove past them. From the amused look on Di's face, he correctly inferred that Mart was already telling her the story.
"Dan…" Jim warned, having had more than enough of the subject already.
Laughing, Dan put up his hands, palms out, and stepped back. "Okay, okay. I'll give it up. This time. You've been harassed enough as it is." His laughter picked up in volume when the front door opened again and their favorite subject of the moment came back out onto the porch. He had to hold his sides because they were aching. Talk about perfect timing, he thought, appreciating the moment.
Startled by their presence, Trixie came to a stop and stared at the two men in front of her. She wondered why Dan was laughing uproariously and at the flush that started across Jim's face. Lifting her shoulders, she didn't question them. A quick glance to the driveway showed her that Mart and Di had already left for their doctor's appointment.
It was tough but Dan eventually got his laughter under control. "You're looking a little underdressed from what I expected to see," he declared, studying her from head to toe. There was nothing formal about her clothes now.
On the other side, Jim was mentally shaking his head, wondering how the hell he had gotten so lucky to have been put in such a position…again. Switching Mart for Dan wasn't an improvement. Dan could be as irritating as Mart; sometimes even more so. He kept his face as inscrutable as he could and prayed that he had something that could pass for a smile on his face. It was difficult, especially knowing that Dan would be watching him like a hawk.
Left with no other option, Trixie came over towards them and lowered herself onto a white wicker chair, a good five feet away from where Jim rested. Her chuckle was tinged with nerves. She pressed her hands against her thighs and rolled her eyes at Dan's joke. "I had to take the dress off, Dan. The seamstresses are going to work on it right now. I think they're hoping to have the alterations finished before they leave today. They brought everything they need to work on the dresses here. I'm sure Honey could give you a dissertation on what they are going to do with all of the dresses but I wasn't paying close attention when she told us."
Dan offered a small sound and then went silent, more than content to let Trixie and Jim flounder their way through. Jim caught on first. He narrowed his eyes at Dan and broke the silence with an undemanding topic, "Mart and Di left a few minutes ago."
"That's right. They have to pick up his car from the shop." Trixie ducked her head as she rested against the thin cushion, hiding her tiny, secret smile, and worked hard to keep the news from slipping past her lips. For some reason it was much easier to keep a secret in her line of work. When it was something related to her family or the Bob-Whites, it was much harder. She plucked at the hole in her jeans. "Di told me that earlier. She's going with him to help him out."
"I offered to take Mart in her place but she didn't accept it," Dan shared since the two had made one successful volley in their conversation, without any help from him.
"Mart told me last night that he's had a lot of problems with his car. Hopefully they've all been fixed." Trixie curled her legs up underneath her and felt a lot more comfortable. She smiled easily at Dan and even turned the same smile on Jim. About to say something else, she felt her cell phone vibrate and pulled it out of her pocket. Frowning, she stared down at the new text message, noted it was another one from Max. No emergency code accompanied it. Aware that she had two pairs of eyes watching her, she smoothed away the puzzled lines on her forehead and turned her cell off. This week was all about home.
Jim noticed the frown. "Anything wrong?"
Startled, she lifted blue eyes up, collided with his interested green ones, and completely forgot about Dan, only a few feet away. "Oh, no," she answered with a little laugh. "Just a text message from another P.I. It's not anything serious. I'm only…"
"Curious," Jim finished for her.
"Exactly." Trixie chuckled a little and slipped the phone into her back pocket. "Nothing to worry about, though. I'll take care of it later." She was already mentally composing a text message in her mind since she couldn't avoid two texts from Max but she was determined not to let it affect her vacation home.
Dan was as curious as Trixie but he didn't join in the conversation. They were moving forward. It had taken a few years, a whole lot of heartache and much worry on the part of their friends, but they seemed to finally be starting down a good path. Nodding his head, he sat back and settled into his role as an observer.
Wearing her regular clothes but still beaming from the gorgeous ivory gown that had recently graced her body, Honey poked her head out of the door. "Oh! There you are, Trixie!" she said gaily and smiled at the other members. "I was looking for you everywhere. And you managed to find Jim and Dan, too." Thinking now would be a good time to witness the truce in action, she invited everyone in for lunch. "Come along, everyone. Lunch is just about ready."
Trixie stood up from her chair. She kept the same smile on her face as Jim walked past her. He gave her a fleeting one before following Honey into the house. She waited until very last and ended up behind Dan, who grabbed her elbow and kept her from entering. "What?" she asked, irritated when he wouldn't let her in.
His smile was slow and satisfied. Whether she needed a pep talk or not, she was going to get one from him. "I wanted to congratulate you, Trix," he whispered quietly. "You and Jim are doing a good thing here. It'll mean a lot to Brian and Honey."
She wanted to ask him how he already knew about their truce but decided she didn't really need to. She shouldn't have been surprised. Someone would have told him by now. Enough of their friends knew about it. Not grilling him on the identity of the person who told on them, Trixie settled on a simple, "Thank you. Do you think it could count as their wedding present?" she asked cheekily.
Dan's laughter boomed out. Delighted with Trixie for making a joke of it, firmly believing she was finally becoming her normal, effervescent self she had always been around all of them, he draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her into the house. Their steps matched perfectly on the way to the dining room. "Somehow, Hollywood, I don't think a truce is going to cut it. It's great but I know Honey and Brian will want something more."
Their laughter mingled together and announced their arrival. Honey stood in the hallway, waiting for them to come into the dining room. "What took you so long? We're eating in here, guys! Mother and Miss Trask are going over to the country club for lunch. I think they want to discuss the wedding some more. We were invited to go along, Trixie, but I thought it would be much easier and more relaxed if we ate here instead."
A lunch at the country club or a lunch with Jim? Neither qualified as easy or relaxed but Trixie accepted her situation much better than she would have a few days ago. "Thanks, Honey. I appreciate it. I would much rather eat here than at the country club." She gestured towards her clothes. Frayed blue jeans and a simple yellow shirt. Definitely not country club attire, she thought and quirked an eyebrow. "You made an excellent choice."
Honey slipped an arm through hers and dragged her into the room. She sat down on a chair and pulled Trixie into the one next to her. Dan and Jim had taken the seats directly across from them, which Honey figured was a good thing for Trixie and Jim's comfort level. They were close but not too close. A bowl of delicious grilled chicken salad sat in the center of the table, as well as different types of salad dressing. There was also a platter of various sandwiches, waiting to tempt them, too.
Jim was resisting the urge to stare at Trixie. It was with a rueful and self-deprecating look to his eyes when the realization hit him. It wasn't the dress that had drawn his attention outside. It was her. He couldn't decide which he would rather have had it been. Frustrated, he stabbed a piece of his grilled chicken with more force than necessary and glared at Dan when he heard the low, amused chuckle. "It's nice to know that you find the situation so amusing," he mumbled lowly so that only Dan could hear him. "It does my heart good; really, it does."
Dan's lips curved upwards. His dark eyes twinkled merrily. "Just think, Jim. It's only Tuesday. We still have Wednesday, Thursday and Friday to get through until Saturday and the wedding rolls around." The possibilities, all the fun, entertaining and amusing possibilities, were limitless. It promised to be more enjoyable than he had ever thought possible. "In my opinion, it's only going to get better."
Tuesday. Good Lord, it was only Tuesday. Jim squeezed his eyes shut. The entire week spread out before him. A good portion of it would be spent with the Bob-Whites. With the truce smoothing the way, he knew that it was going to get even tougher for him. His free hand balled into a fist under the table. It was only an added treat to have his friends understand what was going on. When Trixie giggled at something Honey shared with her, he couldn't help but look directly at her. Lovely smile, sparkling eyes, pretty rosy cheeks. His teeth gritted together in response. Yeah. It promised to be a week filled with torture the likes of which he had never known.
After pouring a generous amount of dressing on his salad, trying not to chuckle at Jim who was doing his best not to stare overly long at the animated blonde, Dan offered it across the table to Trixie. The conversation wasn't going too bad. It actually felt like all four of them were getting along pretty well. Since the mood was much more congenial than he had expected, Dan cautiously brought up something that had been bothering him about Trixie since she had arrived early on Sunday evening. "Tell us a little bit about yourself, Trix. I couldn't help but notice that you seemed extra tired or something when you came home on Sunday."
Fork suspended in the air, she lifted her head, met his concerned look with an incredulous one of her own, and damned herself for not hiding it any better. With three pairs of interested eyes staring at her, one obsidian, one topaz, and one the color of emeralds, she swallowed a sigh and laid her fork down with perfect precision. She could brazen it out but that would only frustrate the others and make them more determined than ever to get to the heart of the matter. She could lie, as she had done in the past, if she could pull it off with Jim across the table. She had never been able to lie that convincingly in front of him. Or she could offer them part of the truth. Not the whole truth, since she was honor-bound herself to never discuss her job with anyone outside of the agency. Because sharing part of it may help, she went with the only option that appealed to her. Carefully, guarding her words so that she didn't say something she wasn't allowed to, she shared quietly, "One of our investigators met with an accident last week, Dan. I guess it was bothering me more than I thought."
"Oh!" Honey's eyebrows shot up. Her fork cluttered to her plate. She hadn't even realized something was off with Trixie, other than the normal issue of Jim. Instantly contrite, she apologized, "I'm sorry, Trix. I didn't even realize that there was something wrong. I guess I've been too caught up in the wedding. What happened?"
Forgetting proper etiquette, Jim leaned forward, elbows resting securely on the table, very interested in what she had to say. For once, he focused completely on her, with others around, without trying to guard the fact that he was interested in her. He didn't ask any questions but listened intently to her response.
It was always difficult when her work life came into contact with Sleepyside. She toyed with the food on her plate, pushed around the slices of carrots and lettuce, and finally let the fork drop to the china plate with a musical clink. "I can't go into detail, as you know. No case information or anything like that. But an investigator from our agency was shot on my last assignment, late last week. He died at the sight."
"What a horrible story." Honey's compassionate eyes went huge. She didn't want to picture the possibilities but her imagination was too good. It came from all those years working with Trixie as her partner. It didn't take too much to jump to the next logical conclusion. "You were there, weren't you?"
"Yeah." Having lost all appetite, she carefully took a sip from her glass of water and then put her hands on her thighs. She met each of their eyes and, for the first time ever, wished that she could tell them the entire story. She wasn't overly upset about Adam's death. It was more the fact that he had the gall to betray the agency, set a trap for their team, and then had clearly wanted to kill her that bothered her the most. Unfortunately, she wasn't free to share those pertinent tidbits. "I saw it happen."
Jim had never heard any of her stories about work before. At least, not first hand. Following her example, he laid his fork down and asked her a direct question of significant importance, something he hadn't done in years, "How are you feeling, Trixie?"
The fact that he was expressing concern for her well-being made the blue of her eyes darken and her mouth drop open before she remembered to close it. With that lone question he managed to stun her. "I'm okay. Really, I am. We had a lot of meetings about it at the agency before I flew home. We dissected it, looked at the causes and the effects, talked about different ways it could have been avoided. That helped a little. But being home, in Sleepyside, is helping out the most, as it always does," she added a little wistfully. "There's nowhere in the whole world quite like our home."
"Why do I have the feeling that there is one hell of a story here?" Dan studied her fixedly over his glass of iced tea. He swirled it around and watched her reaction like a hawk, gauging her rather sketchy answers and wondering what the hell had really happened.
Trixie shrugged her slim shoulders. "There's nothing much to share about that night. It was a routine assignment that simply went wrong, Dan. You know how quickly that can happen."
Did he ever. But he was DEA and, although he didn't voice it, the DEA had more important and dangerous assignments than a small private investigative agency ever could. But, he reasoned with himself, this was Trixie. It wouldn't surprise him if her 'routine' assignments were a bit different from the norm. He didn't have to recall the countless mysteries she had solved as a teenager. She excelled at finding trouble anywhere.
"I think it's just awful." Honey gave a shudder and threw an arm around her best friend and soon-to-be sister-in-law, and hugged her tightly. "I'm also extremely grateful that you weren't hurt."
An odd look flashed over her face, one that was gone quicker than anyone could correctly identify it. She could have been hurt, possibly mortally so, and was more than lucky that she had the extra weapon in her possession at the time and even luckier that Max was able to find her and put an end to Adam's dark intentions. "There wasn't any danger for me," she spoke insistently, apologizing inwardly for the direct lie.
Honey shivered anyway, not buying it for a moment. "I know you too well, Trixie. If there was danger around, you were right at the heart of it."
Trixie didn't add that the bullet from her gun would have disabled the man or that Max had hastened the other rogue agent towards his untimely demise. Cocking her head to the side, she had a feeling they wouldn't completely understand. "Enough talk about my job. I'm certain there is something else much more interesting we could talk about here." Looking for a likely candidate, her eyes settled on Jim and lit up with approval. "What about you, Jim? Care to share what you were doing up at Ten Acres today?"
Jim had to take a vicious bite out of his concern for her safety. He wondered how many times she had found herself in danger during the duration of her job but then he reminded himself that she was grown up and perfectly capable of handling her own affairs. "I met my contractor there this morning," he said when the other two stared at him with avid interest.
"Your contractor?" Dan repeated stupidly, having no idea that his friend was seriously moving towards building his own home.
"My contractor," Jim repeated, shifting in his seat. He felt uncomfortable with the looks the others were giving him and pulled at the bottom of his shirt. "I'm building a house up there."
"Don't worry, Dan," Honey hastened to assure him with a small laugh at her brother's expense. "I wouldn't have known that Jim was extremely ultra-serious about building, either, if Trixie hadn't told me about it yesterday."
Trixie glanced from Honey to Dan, astonished that she had obviously been the first Bob-White to learn about Jim's plans for a home up at Ten Acres. For some reason, the knowledge made her feel lighter than she had in a long time. Even if she had stumbled across the information accidentally and somewhat clumsily, she was still the first to know. That had to mean something. "Was it a secret?" she blurted out before thinking.
"Not at all," Jim hastened to assure her, unaware that both Honey and Dan were watching them interact as closely as Mart had done earlier. When their eyes met, all he could see was her. "I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. There have been other things to talk about. Someone is getting married around here…" His voice trailed off.
Delighted, amazed, and stunned that the two were talking without being prodded into it, and not only talking but actually quite comfortably, Honey announced, her lovely hazel eyes softening with the mood, "I think the wedding is important, but it's not the most important, Jim. I'm proud of you for starting your house. We need details, though. Lots of them." Unmindful of her elbows, she pushed aside her lunch and rested her chin in her hands. "What's going on?"
Jim found himself sharing the information about the house with the other three, without any oddness or unsettled feelings. He couldn't believe how tranquil it was to talk about it with Trixie present. She seemed as eager to hear his answers as the other two but she didn't offer many suggestions on room colors or helpful hints on decorating. He told them about the projected time frame, as well as the different permits that he had applied for earlier that morning. When he had told them everything he possibly could about the house and had promised to show Honey the plans as soon as possible, he noticed that everyone had managed to finish their meal.
When the foursome lapsed into silence, digesting the information from Jim, Dan sagged against his chair, ran a hand through his thick hair, and bemoaned dramatically, "So, Hollywood, it looks like we are going to be the only ones without a house in this neck of the woods."
"I guess so." Trixie didn't color or flinch; she took the teasing tone in the way it was offered. Her smile was normal and her eyes twinkled. It wasn't going to be impossible, she decided as she placed her napkin onto her plate. They could be friendly around each other. Judging from the relieved expression on Honey's face, it was also highly appreciated. "Any plans for you to move back?" she asked brightly.
Dan ducked his head, sent a careless shrug her way. "You never know," he replied and started to tidy up his table spot, unable to look her directly in the eyes.
Puzzled, Trixie started to question him, only to be interrupted by a tap on her arm by Honey. "What is it, Honey?"
"I'm afraid it's time," Honey said with an expression that should have been pitying but came off as amused instead. She pointed towards the clock on the wall.
Forgetting about Dan, Trixie scrunched up her nose. "Oh, no," she grumbled, having a good idea what Honey wanted them to do. "It's not time for…"
"Mmm…hmm," Honey interrupted. She reached down, grabbed Trixie's hand and tugged her away from the table. "I wanted Di to be here, too, but she had other plans with your brother. So it's just you, me and a few hundred yards of ribbon and lace!" she declared gleefully, eyes shining at the prospect of working on the decorations for the wedding. She had many, many, many decorating ideas circulating through her mind and couldn't wait to get started on them.
Dan and Jim exchanged a look that was filled with compassion for the smaller woman. "She wants Trixie to make bows?" Dan inferred dubiously. His imagination wasn't good enough to come up with examples of what her creations would look like. He doubted if any of them would ever decorate any section of the garden for the wedding.
"Probably not." Jim was thinking the exact same thing. Trixie would do her best but she did not have a creative bone in her body when it came to making objects out of material, thread, and whatever else they needed, especially something they would adorn a wedding. "Knowing Honey, she just wants Trixie to keep her company. She'll probably stay up late tonight, redoing every single bow Trixie makes once she goes home." Being careful not to look at Dan, Jim walked out of the room with a nonchalant air. He unobtrusively watched the two as they left the hallway and started up the staircase towards Honey's room. He could hear their giggles mixing together, making them sound more like school girls from the past instead of the confident career women that they were now. Judging from the way their heads were pressed together, they were both looking forward to spending more time together.
Dan made a face behind Jim's back. It was beyond obvious to him that the two needed to resolve their issues, in some kind of a form. With nearly seven years passing and no improvement, he had almost lost all hope that they could fix it. For the first time since they had broken up, he had a smidgeon that they could be starting down the best possible path, potentially leading to the best possible ending for them. Possibilities again. It was freeing to realize that there were a few more out there than any of them had realized. "Feel like walking back up to Ten Acres?" he asked conversationally.
"What for?" Since Trixie had made it upstairs and was out of sight, Jim turned to Dan questionably.
"You can give me an in-depth tour about your house. You know, show me where you want to position the house, share more of what you have planned." When Jim nodded his agreement, Dan tucked his hands into his pockets and followed him out the door. He started to whistle, a merry tune that had Jim whipping his head back to look quizzically back at him, wondering why the hell he was so damn cheerful. Dan merely grinned and followed behind him, thinking that more progress had been made in the past two days than all of the seven years the two had spent apart. A minor miracle, he added thoughtfully. The odds were definitely shifting in a more positive direction.