Separate Lives
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!
Chapter Twenty-Six
The music swelled into a loud, triumphant and extremely celebratory crescendo before cheers, whistles and thunderous applause filled the air, drowning it out. The entire audience smiled as the beaming Honey and Brian practically floated together down the aisle, hand-in-hand and joined together, committed to beginning the rest of their lives together. They didn't appear to notice the gathered group; were intent only on each other. Honey's series of delighted laughs could be heard over the music. More than a few tears were shed. It was obvious to all, even the more pragmatic ones, that they had witnessed a true and binding love match that afternoon.
A wide grin splitting his face, Jim took the six steps necessary to meet his partner at the altar and held out his arm, doing his best not to stare at her face. Her hand tentatively found its way into the crook of his arm. A tingling sensation started at the simple point of contact, made the emerald in his eyes more prominent and his heart stutter in response. With two hundred plus people watching them, many of them who were aware of the history between him and Trixie, he did his best to keep his features friendly and neutral. There wasn't any other option for him. He absolutely could not let anything else show. "It's our turn to start," he murmured, wishing for something wittier to say.
Her reply was a smile, light and joyful, while her hand rested on him. She could hardly fathom that she was actually touching him. Not only was she voluntarily touching him but there wasn't any sort of oddness or difficulty residing between them. No aura of stilted uneasiness encompassed them. It was comfortable and relaxed; simple and amiable. Almost as if the more turbulent years in their relationship hadn't occurred. Trixie refused to think about it, not now, not at this most jubilant moment. She couldn't. Today was all about Brian and Honey, not about the tangled jumble they had managed to turn their relationship into. They moved together in perfect harmony down the aisle, following in the footsteps of the elated bride and groom ahead of them. Her eyes sparkled. Her feet actually felt like they were floating on air, not traveling across a strip of white satin covering a hard garden path. "So beautiful," she murmured to Jim, unconsciously echoing the description she used many years ago to describe a much simpler but just as moving of a ceremony.
The edges of his lips curled up as the shared memory came back to him. They had been partnered up for his cousin's wedding. Now they were paired up for his sister's. Somehow, it seemed more than fitting. It seemed right. The shared experiences and memories they had together were important, to both of them, through the good and not-so-good years. He didn't look directly at her, only out of the corner of his eyes, but the image of her in profile was forever ingrained in his mind. It took a second for him to remember the need to respond. "Yes, it was."
He expertly led her to the end of the aisle and around the short bend in the garden path that would take them to their places in the receiving line. Once the wedding party was in place, the guests would start flowing out to greet each member before making it to the newlyweds. After that, they would collect the bags of birdseed to toss at the happy couple. The wedding party and the family members would stay behind. The guests would make their way to the country club where they could enjoy refreshments and an open bar before the wedding party arrived and the reception officially commenced.
A light breeze gently snagged at a curl. Moving by rote, she absently captured it back and turned to Brian, who held tightly onto Honey's hand. She saw the glint of plain platinum on his left ring finger. The ring Honey picked out for him was a perfect fit. Honey had shown them the ring the night before. Their initials and anniversary were engraved underneath it. "You were wonderful up there," she said to her big brother, emotion clogging her throat. A series of soft footsteps arrived on the other side of Jim. The rest of the wedding party was finishing the receiving line. Before they were bombarded by the myriad of guests, she stood on her tiptoes and hugged her big brother, swelling with pride for him and Honey. "You really were."
"It was easy," Brian answered, sliding a meaningful glance towards his wife. His wife. A gleam of wonderment touched his face. He doubted if he would ever be able to see anything but his wife ever again. Affected by the look and the tone of her husband, Honey blushed a pretty rose.
Trixie thoughtfully turned her head when the couple shared another soft, sweet kiss. Although she thought it was nice, she grimaced on general principle. After all, seeing any of her brothers kissing the loves of their lives was never high on her list of sights to see. "That's enough of that," she grumbled under her breath, barely resisting the urge to pull out her old stand-by and roll her eyes or stick out her tongue.
Jim offered a small snicker, feeling the same way. He didn't like watching his sister kiss anyone, even her husband. Automatically laying a hand at the small of her back, having no idea that he had done so, he turned her away from the couple to give them a modicum of privacy. She could focus on the others joining them instead. "We're almost all here. The guests will be coming out next."
Blue eyes widened up at him. She wasn't sure which she was dreading the most: the receiving line or the photo shoots. To her, it was a toss-up. Neither one sounded like fun. "There are so many people here. More than there were at Di's wedding. Do you know them all?" she asked in the hopes of overlooking an onslaught of nerves.
"A few," he replied quietly and inaccurately. He knew many of them, either through business or charity functions that he had attended in the past. Much like Trixie, he derived very little enjoyment out of those types of affairs. He put a good face on it, appeared to have a good time at them since it was the polite thing to do, but he spent a good portion of the time mentally reviewing notes for work or creating lists in his mind of other things he wished to accomplish. "Our mother didn't want to snub anyone so she included a lot of acquaintances on the guest list. I've run across a few of them at different functions I've had to go to."
Something in the tone of his voice was reflected in the expression on his face gave Trixie the correct feeling that the social requirements of his job or his family's place in society weren't high on his priorities. In fact, she had a strong hunch that he despised them, much as she would if she had to attend them. That small insight into Jim and his life touched her with awe. Tilting her head to the side, she stared up at him, her lips unconsciously parted. "You'll help me with any names, right?" she questioned, although it wasn't what she really wanted to say. What she really wanted to do was pepper him with questions about his experiences. The most important one was who he attended them with. Caught in the proverbial catch-22, there was simply no way her pride would allow her to voice that particular question.
"Don't worry. I'll be glad to help…if I remember them all," he tacked on, smiling slightly. Although gifted with a good memory, there was a strong chance that the extensive guest list could test it.
"It's time. It's time! The guests are coming!" Di announced breathlessly on the other side of Jim. Modestly preening, she smoothed a hand over her hair, tugged at her skirt, fiddled with her gold wrap and pointed towards Brian and Honey, who were oblivious to it all and only had lips for each other. Covering a mouth with an amused hand, she giggled gaily. "Should someone tell them or should we let them be?"
Trixie skirted a little closer to Jim, giving the couple an extremely wide berth, and tossed her head back. "I am not interrupting them," she declared forcefully, shuddering at the thought.
Mart arched a sarcastic eyebrow. Having no problems inserting himself into a private expression of affection in an extremely public place, especially when it was being done by his brother and the newest member to gain the name of Belden, he stepped out of line and gave Brian a not-so-gentle nudge to the shoulder, immediately breaking up the embrace. Ignoring the look of barely contained fury coming his way, he waggled his eyebrows and teasingly assured Brian, "Now, now, Dr. Belden. That's enough. You've got plenty of time for that later."
Being ruthlessly dragged back to earth when he was so close to heaven didn't make for a happy groom. Brian's dark eyebrows snapped together. About to respond, and probably not in the most positive of ways, the arrival of the first line of guests ended it. They started pouring down the garden path, excited and chattering, and obviously impatient to meet and congratulate the newlyweds. Choosing to ignore Mart and his less than subtle ways, he draped a reassuring arm over Honey's shoulder. One look at her made his recent flare of anger dissipate into thin air. The huge smile on his face was plastered on tightly, couldn't have been pried off with a jack-hammer. "It's starting, Honey," he whispered softly in her ear.
"I know!" Exhilaration, delight, elation and every other positive emotion possible emanated off her in nearly tangible waves. It encompassed all around her, made anyone close smile in immediate response. A hand clutched his arm. Leaning towards him, she announced serenely, "It's only going to get better, Brian."
Trixie heard his low chuckle but not his murmured response. It was heartwarming to observe her brother and her best friend so deliriously happy. Her gaze slid past Jim to land on her almost-twin and his wife. Just like they were. And just like her friends had planned, practically from the moment they had become Bob-Whites. It had never been heavily discussed with her during their early teenage years. It had definitely never been admitted to but all the girls had always known which of them had special feelings for the Bob-White of the opposite sex. Her smile lost a little of its shine. Things hadn't gone quite as well for her and the recipient of her special feelings. Pushing the nasty little epiphany off to the side, she focused on the guests. They started their obligatory trek down the line, and, thanks to Jim, she was able to catch most of their names and greet them appropriately.
About ten minutes later, her face began to ache from all the smiling and her throat grew dry from the greetings and polite, if slightly boring, conversations. A lull gratefully appeared before her, granting her a bit of a much-needed break. "Thank goodness," she said under her breath, wanting to stretch out her body but unable to do so without calling attention to herself. She settled for quietly slipping out of her shoes and letting her feet breathe the comfort of the hard ground underneath.
"It's been an experience," Jim mumbled back, in perfect agreement with her. In their combined yet unspoken agreement, he was ready to call it a day, too. Unfortunately, he couldn't. They still needed to greet half the guests. Wanting to get it over, needing to know why there was a sudden stop in the flow of guests, he glanced down the line and found the answer.
Trixie startled at his low groan. Without thinking, she grabbed his arm and stood on her tip-toes in a vain attempt to look over him. She wasn't successful. She couldn't make anything out. The added inch gained from slipping back into her shoes didn't help. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," he assured her, amazed that she was willingly touching him on her own. Knowing she would drop the contact if he brought it up, he chose not to mention it. "It's only my mother's great-aunt. Aunt Adelaide. You've heard Honey talk about her before, right?"
"Adelaide Hart," Trixie repeated, rapidly searching her memory banks. It didn't take too long before she came up with a ton of small anecdotes Honey had shared with her over the years. "Very sweet, very kind, a little absent-minded and…"
"Always match-making," Jim finished for her, groaning again. "She's not totally happy unless everyone in the family is either engaged to be or already married. If they're not, she's more than happy to try and instigate a match in the hopes that an engagement or marriage will come out of it." He had been on the receiving end of more than a few attempts over the past few years. Not a one had met with success yet. From what he understood, Aunt Adelaide was none too pleased with that.
"I seem to remember that she kept forcing eligible young men Honey's way during our junior and senior year in high school," Trixie remembered, unaware that her hand was still resting on his bicep. She idly tapped a finger against it. "Honey wasn't very fond of it but she didn't have the heart to say no to her."
"She didn't want to hurt her feelings. Luckily, Aunt Adelaide backed off of Honey once she started dating Brian," he shared, pitching his voice lower so no one else could hear them. Once that happened, she tried to focus her attentions on Jim. Nothing ever worked, much to her chagrin. He may have attended a few charity functions with a suggested date, more to not hurt Adelaide Hart's feelings than for any other reason, but nothing stuck in spite of her continued efforts. Jim didn't have the heart to tell her he simply wasn't interested in any kind of a long-term relationship right now. "She's coming our way, Trix," he warned, his warm air brushing her bare neck.
A shiver started, coursed down her back and all the way to the tips of her toes. Her breath caught in her throat again. "Okay," she said, unaware of exactly what he had said to her. She finally dropped her hand from Jim. Needing something to do with her fingers, she resituated her wrap around her arms and glanced up at the boisterous voice greeting Jim.
"James!" a beaming lady of nearly seventy-five greeted him, light blue eyes swimming in a pale face reminiscent of an antique porcelain doll. Her snow white hair was pinned up high on her head and topped with a cute little bright blue hat, complete with feathers and a sparkling sapphire. Diamonds swam at her neck, dangled from her ears, and encircled her fingers. "Looking handsome as always, I see."
He lowered his head, gave her a chaste peek on the cheek, because he did truly love her even if she tried to drive him insane. "It's nice to see you again, Aunt Adelaide," he said, meaning it.
"Always a pleasure, James, always a pleasure." She pinked in delight at the kiss and focused her attention on the petite blonde next to her nephew. A few hurriedly whispered questions to the right people had given her the identity of the woman her nephew hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of during the ceremony, as well as a taste of the broken history that existed between them. To her eyes, it didn't look that broken anymore. A shrewdness entered her face, one which Trixie wouldn't have believed the elderly woman capable of experiencing. "And what an attractive partner you have," she declared, hoping to give Jim a gentle push in the right direction.
"Thank you," seemed to be the best, most appropriate response although Trixie finally understood what it felt to be stared at like she was a specimen under a microscope. Jim's Aunt Adelaide may appear to be absent-minded but there was quite a hidden depth to her. And Trixie didn't like the way she was staring at her, as if she had just uncovered every single secret she held about one James Winthrop Frayne II.
"She's beautiful, James. Very beautiful. From what I understand, you are a neighbor to Madeleine and James, aren't you, my dear?" She blinked innocently, already well-versed in the pertinent information of one Beatrix Belden. The most bothersome piece to her was the fact that the girl resided in California. Distance was quite the deterrent in beginning any potential relationship.
"My family lives down there, in the hollow." Trixie helpfully pointed in the direction of her house and blushed when Brian started chuckling besides her, obviously overhearing the entire conversation. Blushing, she recalled a few of his first encounters with Aunt Adelaide and remembered laughing at him.
"Good. Closeness in a family is important." She nodded her head imperiously and reached out to pinch Trixie's blushing cheek. "I already like you. You keep this handsome nephew of mine in line, all right?" Without waiting for a response, taking for granted that Trixie would do just that, she lifted her head and swept regally away like an expensive yacht cutting through the waters, confident that the matter was settled and that Trixie would take care of Jim.
A bewildered frown marred her forehead. "I…uh," Trixie stammered out, unable to formulate any kind of a response to the elderly woman who was in the process of greeting Brian and Honey. Mouth agape, she searched out Jim, who was trying not to laugh too hard at her or the astonished expression on her face.
It took a few seconds to regain control of his humor. "She kind of steamrolls over you," he explained once the laughter subsided. "That's her mood of operation. She says what she wants and, before you have a chance to confirm it or deny it, she rolls right away, leaving you baffled and bewildered. Somewhere in all that you've managed to agree to something you may not have really wanted to do."
"Umm…right." Finding it difficult to get over the fact that one of Jim's relatives had practically forced her into looking out for him, she could only murmur slightly unintelligible responses to the next few people coming through the line. Bemused, Trixie dutifully returned to shaking hands, offering hugs, and suffered through a few series of impersonal air kisses from many people she didn't know or want to know. Jim's knowledge continued to impress her when he thoughtfully introduced her to many of the Wheeler/Hart relatives and business associates. It didn't escape her notice that many of them aimed speculative looks in their direction.
It felt like forever for the receiving line to finally end. In reality, it only lasted about twenty-five minutes. Trixie had her answer, though. She much preferred posing for pictures over standing in an endless line. Breathing a large sigh of relief when the last guest strolled their way to the front lawn, she watched Di's twin sisters hurriedly arrive and push decorative bags of birdseed tied together with curling gold ribbon into their hands.
"Come on," Whitney urged the wedding party, tugging an extremely willing and grinning Bobby behind her. "We've got to join the group on the lawn if we want to get a good shot at the new Beldens!" Her cheery laughter floated back at them and, with Bobby in tow, bounced her way towards the front lawn where the guests had gathered for the tradition.
Trixie played with the curling ribbon. She pulled it out straight, watched it spring back, and fell into line behind the others. "Thank goodness the receiving line is over," she said under her breath.
"I'm in complete agreement with you." Dan tossed his small bag into the air, caught it, and tossed it up again. "It's probably my least favorite thing about being involved in a wedding. I can deal with the tux. I don't mind the wedding party dance. But the receiving line…" He ended it on a long, dramatic sigh. "Not my favorite thing at all." Although he had to admit that there were more than a few attractive and unattached women who went through the line. He contemplated a few of them now, already creating a few plans in his mind for the reception, a little grin on his face that made a few of those women sigh in response.
His immediate agreement helped chase away her frustrations, made her feel vindicated. "We're not the type of people to stand still for a long period of time, are we, Dan?"
He stopped studying the crowd, turned and focused completely on her. A secretive gleam entered his dark eyes. Leaning down, he whispered quietly, "Our jobs say a lot about us, Hollywood."
She blushed, catching the implication immediately. "Sh, sh," she ordered quietly, waving a hand to keep him from bringing the truth of her profession up again while they were essentially surrounded by many pairs of interested ears and eyes. "Not now, Dan."
In deference to the day, he let the subject go easier than she expected him to. Winking, he declared easily, going for the simplest conversational topic in the entire world and speaking little louder than necessary, in case anyone had overheard his whispered comment, "It looks like the weather held up beautifully today."
Trixie couldn't help it. She laughed, a deep pleased laugh that drew more than a few eyes her way. Dan had quite the understated sense of humor that managed to delight her…most of the time. "It certainly did," she answered, her giggles slowly subsiding. Noticing that most of the people around them already had their birdseed bags opened in gleeful anticipation, she tugged at the string until it finally came off.
Waiting for their cue from Miss Trask, Honey and Brian began their celebratory trek across the front lawn to the waiting limo while the guests assembled around them. An almost absurd amount of birdseed flew high into the sky, showering the laughing, euphoric couple. When the staid and proper limo driver closed the back door on them, blocking the couple from view, the cheers started up again, gaining more in volume. The gathered throng waved them off and the limo drove down the steep hill, taking the newlywed couple on a tour of the surrounding area of Sleepyside in a strategic move suggested by Miss Trask. It served a few purposes. Most importantly, it gave Brian and Honey some cherished moments together, a luxury they wouldn't experience much during the day. It also allowed the guests to leave the Manor House and travel to the country club in preparation for the reception. Last, it gave the photographer ample opportunity to cross off a few more much-needed poses and positions on his long list.
When the limo disappeared from view, Di made a small, sentimental sound deep in her throat. She resolutely blinked back a few tears and damned the hormones for making her into such a cauldron pot of emotions. "They're gone," she said, sounding a little lost and ready to dissolve into tears at any given moment.
Becoming used to her myriad of mood swings, Mart went with his old stand-by. "There's no need to cry, Di," he teased her gently, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "They're coming right back for pictures."
"Now I feel like crying," Dan interrupted, only half-joking. Not only did they both despise receiving lines, he and Trixie also shared the same feelings when it came to the mountain of photo ops that weddings required of them. In his mind, a photographer and a camera were instruments of torture. He could only stand still and smile for so long.
People started streaming towards the vehicles parked in nearly perfect precision on the line, thanks to the efficient helpers Miss Trask had hired to oversee the complicated parking issues. Trixie watched the guests start to leave, their excited voices traveling back to her. All of them seemed to have enjoyed the wedding and were clearly looking forward to the reception. The sight of a white-haired lady with a small bright blue hat perched on her head made her grin. Silently chuckling to herself over the impression Honey's Aunt Adelaide made on her, she slowly faded into the background, needing to have a few moments to herself before the next set of pictures. The tranquility was a necessity to help her hold onto her sanity.
Jim's forehead wrinkled. A sparkle of gold was all he saw in his line of vision before she rounded the side of the house and was gone from view. Curious about her defection, he mumbled something low and extremely garbled to Dan, who had been trying to engage him in a conversation. Absently waving him off, he broke away from the group and started cutting across the wide expanse of lawn between them.
Dan waited until Jim was a good ten feet away from them. Shaking his head, a roguish smirk on his face, he noted dryly, "Holy hell. Some things never change. If it wasn't for the fact that Brian and Honey just got married, we could all be back in high school again."
"What's that?" Mart resisted the urge to pull out the white rose that served as his boutonniere. Somehow, he knew that Miss Trask wouldn't be happy if one of the groomsmen was missing one. He settled instead for resting a hand on Di's back, his thumb absently tracing a series of invisible figure eights on it.
As she always did, Di leaned back into his welcome touch. Letting her wrap drape from one arm, she answered for Dan, a hint of humor to her voice, "Jim's following Trixie."
"He's not following. It's more like sniffing after," Dan corrected playfully.
"Really?" Mart drew out the two syllable word, making it sound much longer than it actually was. Intrigued, he whirled around, saw the tall redhead stride around the corner of the house and out of sight. He didn't need his journalistic instincts to kick in to know that his sister had recently blazed that same trail. Stroking his chin, he stated musingly, "Yeah. That seems about right."
"What do you mean?" His wife glanced up, confusion evident in her pretty violet eyes, while the wedding guests continued to disperse.
Mart laid his head on top of hers, a little amused and a little sad over the entire situation. He wrapped strong arms around her waist. "Jim's always aware of where Trixie is at any given moment when we're all together. But this is the first time in years that he's actually willingly followed her."
Dan considered the information. Deciding he liked it, he arched a dark eyebrow. "That truce of theirs is turning out to be a very good thing. They've come a long way already. Last Sunday they were barely speaking to each other and now…" His voice trailed off. There wasn't any need to discuss how much their relationship had changed in the span of one week. All of them were fascinated witnesses to it.
The ever-intuitive one of their group, Di pointed out the one glaring fault. She had to. She didn't want anyone to hold onto false hope. "But it's almost over," she murmured, causing both gentlemen to stare at her in open shock.
"What do you mean?" Mart frowned down at his wife, befuddled by her words. "I doubt they'll go back to the way things were before just because the wedding is over."
"No. Not that. I mean the week is almost over, not the truce," she explained gently. "Wedding week, as Trixie started to refer to it, is almost over. We only have the rest of the festivities to finish out today. Then think about it. What happens tomorrow?"
"We start to go our separate ways," Dan answered thoughtfully, beginning to see where Di was going with this. He was scheduled to head back to the city because tomorrow was his last official day of vacation. He had to report back in on Monday morning. Honey and Brian would be on their way to Antigua. Mart and Di wouldn't be leaving Sleepyside since they both lived there. But Jim and Trixie…
"Exactly." Di's tone should have been smug at pointing out the obvious but it wasn't. It made her feel too distressed. "Mart and I are having breakfast at the farm tomorrow. I know Trixie's supposed to be in Sleepyside for another week before she flies out to California but I'll be surprised if she makes it."
"She never makes it. She'll be called into work at some point," Mart muttered, his frown growing a bit darker. "With her track record, it'll be sooner rather than later."
Di nodded once, in complete agreement. All of them had learned to expect an early departure from Trixie. "That leaves Jim. Anyone know his plans? Is he staying in Sleepyside or going back to work right away?"
"It'll depend on his father," Dan decided after contemplating the answer. "And when Mr. Wheeler wants to get back to the company."
"So he'll be leaving us at the beginning of the week, too. Most likely on Monday." She shook her head, her pretty face lined with worry for her friends. "Which brings me right back to my original point. Jim and Trixie only have the here and now. Come Monday, or very soon after, they'll be back to their normal, and quite separate, lives."
The glaring truth of that statement couldn't be ignored. Dan stuck his hands in his pockets. "Looking on the bright side of things, at least they won't act like polite strangers around each other anymore when they do get together. Their truce will last, of that I have no doubt." But would they ever go beyond a truce? He didn't have an answer for that question.
Mart understood the exact point his wife was making. How could the ex-couple go any farther when thousands of miles existed between them? "Trixie's just going to have to move back home," he announced decidedly, nodding his head. It was the only possible solution...at least, the only solution that he could really support.
"We've been hoping for that for years and years," Di replied with a hopeless, helpless flutter of her eyes.
"Hey. We can all dream." Mart pressed a series of quick kisses on her forehead, wanting to make her giggle. It worked, better than he expected. He was rewarded with a wife who burrowed her head into his chest and sighed dreamily against him.
Out of the corner of his dark eyes, Dan saw Miss Trask and Madeleine Wheeler in a deep conversation. When he saw her flip open the ever-present notebook and point in their direction, he knew it was time for more pictures. "Guys," he said hurriedly, gesturing towards the plotting wedding planner and the mother of the bride. "We can at least help them out. Let's take a leaf from their book and disappear for the moment. We'll stay out of sight for as long as we can to give them some time before Miss Trask or Mrs. Wheeler demands us to get our pictures taken again."
Mart didn't need a second to mull over the suggestion. He liked it immediately. "Sounds like the best idea you've had in a long time," he declared jovially, clapping Dan on the back. In the spirit of their collective decision, the three started to stroll away from the rest of the wedding guests. It would be difficult to take pictures if most of the wedding party wasn't in the immediate vicinity.
Unaware that her departure had been duly noted by more than a few people, pathetically thankful to be away from the noisy throng of celebrants readying for the departure to the country club, Trixie walked up the steps to the side porch that led to the kitchen and slowly sank onto the porch swing, her face carefully controlled. It creaked softly underneath her. Slipping off first one shoe and then the other, she closed her eyes and set the swing in motion, her feet gently propelling her back and forth. The slow, rocking motion soothed her. A small smile curved her lips. The wedding had been absolutely, wonderfully perfect, exactly what Honey and her brother deserved. Now she simply wanted a few moments to herself.
A voice broke through, cutting into her thoughts and chasing away the peacefulness she had been desperately searching for. "You're very good at this," Jim observed from the middle of the porch steps.
One blue eye cracked open. One hand gripped the smooth wood of the armrest. One heart rate picked up, as it always did when in his presence. Shocked to have her bit of solitude intruded upon, stunned even more by the person doing the intruding, she willed her body to relax. Proud when her voice didn't waver, she questioned evenly, uncertain if she wanted to hear the answer, "Very good at what?"
"Disappearing." He took the last steps in one bound. Joining her on the porch, he leaned against the railing and watched the brief interplay of emotions flicker across her face. Confusion was the most evident.
"I don't know what you mean." Trixie cocked her head to the side, feeling at a decided disadvantage. He was standing. She was sitting. Worse, she was barefoot. Curling her toes against the worn boards of the floor, she stared down at them and caught her bottom lip between her teeth. What could he mean by that? She didn't want to know.
"Maybe disappearing isn't the right word. You don't always disappear." Another thought came over him. Maybe it had more truth to it than his first one. Thoughtfully, he tapped a finger against his chin, considered the new observation from all areas. "Maybe it's more like observing instead."
Observing. The word caught her full attention. The swing stopped moving. The confusion was gone. She didn't move a muscle, wondered how he could see so much into her. "Observing?" she repeated in a carefully controlled, neutral tone.
One edge of his mouth lifted. "I probably would have figured it out years ago if, well, if we were actually talking," he said, amazed he could find a small strain of humor during the painful years that existed between them. "Or if I wasn't doing the best I could do to avoid you."
The swing didn't offer any comfort now. She ignored the sound of vehicles starting up and a few shouted farewells from the front lawn. Trixie moved forward until she carefully perched on the edge of it. "We got pretty good at staying out of each other's way," she commented, thinking back to the years residing between the now and the summer of their break-up.
The other edge of his mouth curved, evening it out. "Trixie, we excelled at it. It probably drove the rest of the Bob-Whites nuts," he said, completely true and laughing slightly at the thought.
Because sitting down was proving to be a serious tactical error, Trixie slowly stood up. She was still inches smaller than him, and still regrettably in her bare feet, but being vertical made her regain more of her confidence. A horn beeped in the direction of the driveway. She absently lifted her hand, watched as Regan and Mr. Maypenny joined the line of cars disappearing down the steep hill. "The mass exodus has started," she remarked, hoping her observation would put an end to their current topic.
Jim didn't follow her lead. "We aren't talking about the wedding right now," he chided her gently, not allowing her to change the subject. "We're talking about you."
She refused to let her shoulders slump in defeat. Somehow it seemed that this vacation home wasn't going to be very restful or relaxing for her. People seemed to constantly want to poke holes at her. Her friends, her family, and now even Jim, the most surprising person of all. "I know," she blew out, a trace of frustration evident in her voice.
"I'll make it easy for you." Her answering groan made him chuckle again. "Something you do extremely well at is pulling yourself out of any kind of situation," Jim commented accurately, studying her shrewdly, his vision clear for the first time in years without any of the other stronger, messier emotions clouding it. He rested a hip on the railing, idly touched a leaf in a potted plant, and watched her intently out of the corner of his eyes. "You pull yourself away from the group, either figuratively or literally, and stop interacting. Basically, you choose to fade into the background and become an observer instead of a participant."
Trixie figured she could deny it but, since that would be lying and she had never been that successful at lying to Jim, decided against it. Playing with the chain, sending the porch swing swinging without anyone in it, she uttered in an aggrieved tone, "Yeah. I have gotten pretty good at it. No one's ever called me on the carpet for it, though. No one." The fact that he figured it out had to mean something of vital importance. She simply didn't want to put her finger on it. Not now.
"Trust me. I'm sure they've noticed, too," Jim assured her before sharing more of his insights. "Looking back, I can see that you do it all the time. Take yourself out of the situation, either by leaving the group, like you did today or last night at the rehearsal dinner, or step back from the group and simply watch. I can't put my finger on why, though." When she didn't offer an explanation, only looked at him with eyes impossibly clear and blue, he was left with no other option. He added voice to the question. He didn't have any alternative. He had to find out the answer. "Why do you do it?"
She moved a shoulder, stunned that he was the one to pick up on it. If anyone else had ever noticed her defense mechanism, and he seemed pretty certain that they had, they never called her on it, exactly as she had said. She tried to laugh it off but doubted if she'd be successful at it. Or, more accurately, if he'd let her be successful. "I don't know," she said when the air ate up her nervous chuckle. "Sometimes, I guess, it's just easier to blend into the background for me."
Pondering her answer, finding it a trifle unsatisfactory, he inquired insightfully, "Who's it easier for? You or the rest of us?"
The question drew her up short. She'd forgotten that he could be tenacious when trying to get an answer out of her, especially when it was something important. "I guess…me," she breathed out, astonished by her willingness to answer. It felt like laying a piece of her soul out for him, and only him, to see.
About to delve farther into her answer, they were interrupted by a dark-haired man with a perpetual smirk on his face. "So, it turns out we're two people short for the group shots," Dan joked loudly, breaking the intense stare the two were sharing. He ambled up the steps, joining the two, and immediately picked up on the emotions bouncing off the two of them. It drew him up short, almost made him plan a hasty departure. He hated to interrupt, especially when that something seemed extremely promising, but he had to do it. Miss Trask was waiting. Madeleine Wheeler was waiting. Both women did not like to wait. And both women formed a formidable duo when it came to Honey's wedding. If he didn't bring the two back and soon…well, he didn't want to think about the consequences. Rubbing his chin, he overlooked the fact that Jim was staring at him as if he wished a huge hole would open up and swallow him whole. On the other hand, Trixie seemed to be more grateful for his arrival. Wanting to break the thick tension, he glanced over them, tapped a hand on the railing, and wondered in a loud stage whisper, "I wonder where the missing duo could be."
Trixie grabbed her wrap from where it had fallen on the swing and breathed in a long, low breath of fresh spring air. Dan's instincts were correct. She was grateful for his arrival, almost pitifully so. "Are Brian and Honey back already?" She stared towards the driveway but couldn't see the limo and put her aching feet back into her shoes.
"Not yet. That's not stopping Miss Trask or your mother, Jim. They're both arranging some preliminary shots for us as we speak." He chose not to add that Mart, Di and himself had put off the inevitable as long as they possibly could. Judging from the two, they should have held out for a few minutes longer. "The plans are to add in the starring cast when they get back from their tour of Sleepyside. Miss Trask doesn't want to waste a single second of available time."
Holding onto her wrap with one hand, she picked up the bouquet with the other, and slowly walked down the steps, much against the way she usually bounded down them. In her mind, the halt to the interesting conversation couldn't have come at a better time. There was no way in hell she was ready to admit that there were times she felt like she didn't belong in Sleepyside anymore or that she had to keep up a thin wall between herself and her friends and family. It was necessary, a way for her to survive, and the only way she could make herself leave when the time came for her to depart. That damn time always came, too, no matter how much she wished it wouldn't. Reaching the bottom, she shaded her eyes and found Mart, Di and Miss Trask off in the distance, obviously waiting for the missing members. "They must be waiting for us."
"You think so?" Dan gave a short burst of sardonic laughter. "We have to meet at the altar first and get our partner pictures out of the way. Brian and Honey should be back from their quick tour around Sleepyside by then to finish the photo shoot." Because he knew it would grate on Jim's nerves, Dan grabbed Trixie's hand and pulled her forward. "We'd better hurry. Miss Trask runs a tight ship and she doesn't like to have anything divert her from her schedule."
A few days ago, Jim would have drowned in a vat of frustrated jealousy at Dan holding onto Trixie's hand. As it was now, the sight didn't bother him, not overly much. What bothered him more was the unsatisfactory end to their conversation. He wanted to know her answer. Choosing to be quiet, he rapidly reflected on what he had learned about Trixie. She actively chose to step back, to observe, to not always participate with the people she should feel the most comfortable around. Because it was easier for her. He could make a few suppositions, a few educated guesses, which were more than likely correct, but he wanted to hear it from her. Matching his strides to Dan's, he joined them in their lope across the side lawn and wondered if they would get the opportunity to finish their discussion at the reception. "We're off to the country club next, right?"
Surprised at the fact that Jim wasn't growling or planning to find a good place to dump his body, Dan merely grinned and let go of Trixie's hand. It wasn't fun to hold on when he wasn't getting any kind of a result from the other co-president. "Here's the agenda. Pictures, country club, the first dances and the reception. Once we finish the wedding party dance, it'll be smooth sailing for us. No more responsibilities. We can finally kick back and enjoy the rest of the evening's festivities."
It sounded good to Trixie. She hated being in the limelight, or anywhere close to the limelight, even when it was for an extremely good and loving cause. "Let's start smiling," she joked and pinned a bright one on. The three were quickly swallowed up by Miss Trask who grabbed them and almost forcefully led them to the altar where an exercise in photographic torture began…at least in Trixie's mind.
The individual shots of the wedding party and the partner shots were finished before Honey and Brian returned from their short drive through Sleepyside. Neither one had even taken a second to spare a glance out their window. Giggling, vivacious and blissful, Honey beamed her way through the next round of shots. Brian wasn't much better. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Then there were more pictures to take. So many different positions and repositions. As soon as they finished at the altar, the photographer traded in the setting for the other ones around the estate. Trixie felt like the Wheelers should have installed a revolving door, just for the pictures alone, and murmured such a thing to her mother as the group trooped through the gardens to another prearranged place.
"Smile," Helen advised her, draping a motherly arm around her shoulder and squeezing. She knew her daughter well. "That's all you've got to do. Just smile and think. We're going to have absolutely beautiful pictures when the photographer is finished with them."
Trixie returned her mother's hug. "You're right," she giggled back, resting her head briefly on her mother's shoulder and having no idea that one of the assistants caught the pose or that Jim was watching them, too. "Thanks, Moms. It was a beautiful wedding, wasn't it?"
"It suited them perfectly." Helen murmured truthfully. She thought back to her wedding day. A beautiful spring day, like today, only the setting was a little different. A lovely orchard alive with blossoms and a heavenly, flowery scent. A few guests, family members and friends. And a small reception, offered at the terrace of Crabapple Farm. It matched her vision of a wedding perfectly. "What about you, Trixie? Would you want all this?" She waved an airy hand to include all the trappings and finery of a society wedding.
Trixie bit back the sarcastic reply that she didn't see any possibility of a marriage for her anywhere close in the near future, not wanting to hurt her mother's feelings. "It's lovely and perfect for Honey and Brian, just like Mart's and Di's was a perfect fit for them." She shook her head, making her curls dance, before answering strongly, "But the answer is no. I wouldn't want something this fancy. Not at all."
Her daughter wouldn't. Trixie was much like her mother in that regards. "Good. That wouldn't be you!" Helen declared blithely, pleased with her daughter's answer.
Trixie's response was cut short by a sharp order from the photographer, demanding that all the bridesmaids position themselves around the bride in front of a picturesque stone fountain. "Duty calls," she mumbled to her mother, who smiled sympathetically back at her. Impulsively, remembering her unfinished conversation with Jim, she threw her arms around Helen for another fierce hug. "I love you, Moms. You're the best." Swiftly, she left to join the other smiling bridesmaids.
Helen watched her daughter leave, a position she found herself in way too many times to count over the past few years. A smart woman, she knew it would take something of earth-shattering importance to get her daughter to come back home and never leave again. Her attention immediately focused on Jim who stood apart from the rest of the groomsmen. She followed his gaze, was more than interested to see it land on her daughter. With an uncharacteristic shrewdness that matched his Aunt Adelaide's, she nodded once, coming to a startling conclusion. Finally, it seemed that she could lay all her money down on him. He'd better not let her down.
A huge thank you to my sister, Pam and bundsbaby for making the story even better! Thanks, ladies!