Jim gratefully accepted Brian's offer of a ride up to the house, and got into the car slowly. He'd heard people mention that often after a car accident, the pain set in the next day. He was well aware of that truth now. He leaned his head back and rubbed his right temple.
"Ugghh. Just bury me somewhere in the game preserve," he groaned. "I kind of feel like an idiot for insisting on going today. I probably just held you guys back, and you and Dan both had to deal with van Kassel all because he's got a problem with me and you guys are my friends! I seriously can't believe you punched someone! I'm supposed to be the hothead and you're the calm, cool one!"
Brian sighed. "I hate when bullies threaten my friends.I was mad when he knocked you over on purpose during the game, and when he had Dan up against that locker, something just snapped. I'm not exactly proud of what I did, but I don't regret it either. Somebody needed to show that guy what was up, and I know that either of you could have defended yourselves, but you've both done enough of that to last a lifetime, I wanted to do something for you guys for once instead of just helping slap a band-aid on after the fact."
At Brian's admission, Jim felt tears, hot and panicky, start to burn in his eyes. Get a grip, Frayne! What the heck did I ever do to deserve these Beldens anyway? And the other Bob-Whites as well?
When the silence stretched from a few seconds into a moment, Brian asked quietly, "Did I overstep? Are you ticked off that I slipped up? Should I have let you fight your own battles?"
Jim shook his head, struggling to get his voice and emotions in check. "No, you did what I would have done if some oaf tried anything similar with the rest of you. Thanks for everything, man. I mean it, not even just today with humoring me and with van Kassel, and driving me home, but everything since I got here. You've been a rock and just about the best friend a guy could ask for."
"Back at you. Are your - are the - the Wheelers home? I hate to leave you home alone when you're not feeling great," Brian stammered a bit, not sure if he should have just said, "your parents," or "your family," or what.
"I think they're here - yeah, there's the coupe. I think they drove that into town today. They went to the police station to talk to Sergeant Molinson earlier today. And you can just say parents or family. It's getting a little easier to think of them that way now. You should come in. I'm at least going to eat something before I pass out and die."
Brian chuckled softly. "I'm just glad you're not hurt worse. When Dad told me what happened, I was pretty worried. Competent lab partners don't grow on trees, you know?"
"You're not wrong there. I feel like you'll probably need your right hand in your future endeavors, so try not to beat it to death on some jerk's face, okay?"
The two boys made their way into the house, where they were met by Matthew Wheeler, who was doing a terrible job of acting like he just happened to be already headed that way rather than anxiously monitoring Jim's slower than usual gait. When he saw them, he hastily snatched up a three-day-old newspaper and pretended to have found just what he needed.
"Why, hello there! Back a bit early are we?"
Despite his general state of tired achiness, Jim struggled not to grin. Poor Matt! He's trying so hard not to smother me he looks like Trixie when she has a secret and can't stand to keep it a moment longer!
Brian didn't rat him out either, just stood there calmly waiting for him to explain.
"We had a hard start this morning. We went to the fair, but only for about half of it. I felt pretty rotten. I probably need to rest up tonight and tomorrow if I'm going to go to school Monday."
Mr. Wheeler set down the newspaper and gazed critically at Jim. "Come on and have a seat, son. Get comfortable!" He took Jim's bag from Brian, shouldered it himself, and hung his jacket in the closet. "Brian, come on in and have a bite to eat with us. I'd like to hear doctor-to-be Belden's opinion on how my stubborn boy is really doing!"
He led the way into the first floor den, directed Jim to have a seat on the sofa, and led Brian to the kitchen, where they raided the refrigerator for cheese, a meat tray, fruit, and soda, returning with a small feast.
Jim hadn't realized how hungry he was. He stabbed a chunk of cheese he couldn't identify, and sniffed it experimentally.
Matthew laughed and followed suit. "It's one of Maddie's strange, stinky party cheeses. It's supposed to smell like that, believe it or not!"
Brian and Jim took him at his word and wolfed down crackers stacked with meat and cheese.
"So, what kind of bad did you feel like today at the fair, and are you still feeling it?"
Jim answered truthfully, "My head started hurting worse, and everything was just really sore. I'm okay, I should have just stayed home and taken it easy, that's all."
Mr. Wheeler turned to Brian, "And what do you think? You were around him all day and you know more about such things than the average person, with your interest in medicine."
Brian blushed, embarrassed at the praise. He glanced at Jim again. "Frequently people feel worse the day after an accident. The soreness is expected. His eyes look normal and he hasn't been dizzy or confused, at least that I could observe. I think he's right and just needs to go to bed. If the doctor said he could have something for the pain, it might help to take some ibuprofen with water."
"Very good. Jim, you go ahead upstairs and get some sleep. I'll check in on you later and see how you're feeling. I'm assuming Honey stayed with Trixie?"
"She did," Jim answered. "I was so tired I forgot to mention it."
He was really tired, and the lure of his bed was strong. His big, comfortable bed in his own big, comfortable room was singing him a siren song. Not even that long ago, the bed and room seemed intimidating. Now it just feels like home!
"The girls and Mart and Dan went to have dinner at Mr. Maypenny's," Brian explained. "Honey's bringing some Hunter's Stew back for Jim so he won't miss out. I may head over there myself so they don't have to walk home when it's later."
"Thank you, I would appreciate Honey having a ride home, especially after what happened to Jim last night. I was about to ask you to as a favor. And, if there's enough to go around, I wouldn't say no to a cup of stew myself!"
Mr. Wheeler guided Jim to the stairs, and he felt a warm, safe feeling settle in his chest. He made his way up the stairs, but paused when he saw that his adopted father was still talking to Brian. Feeling guilty but too curious not to listen in, he paused near the top of the stairs. No one could accuse Matthew Wheeler of having a quiet voice. I'm as bad as Trixie, eavesdropping like this on my best friend and my dad! He suddenly realized that he had just thought of Mr. Wheeler as his dad, and it didn't feel weird or wrong. Huh.
"Thanks for looking out for him, and all of the others. Maddie and I appreciate your level head in both of our kids' lives."
Brian replied, "It's no problem, sir. They're my friends."
Matthew continued, "I have a friend on the New York State Hospital Board I'd like you to meet sometime in the future. If you're as serious about a career in medicine as I think you are, he'll be an excellent contact for you to have. I'm sure we could talk about some possible internship opportunities for when you go to college as well. That is, if you're planning to attend in-state."
Brian's eyes widened in surprise. "That - that sounds amazing, sir! And yes, I think I have decided on a school in the area, provided I get in. I was reading some brochures about California schools, but the out-of-state tuition is sky high, with no concrete advantages to being there rather than here. New York has some really great schools, and I'd like to be a drive rather than a flight away from my family, if I'm perfectly honest with myself. Bobby's still so young, and I hate the idea of him growing up and barely knowing me."
"I understand, and it's impressive that you put that level of cost analysis into it at your age. You know what you want and need, and you've done the research, and you're not wrong to consider things like family. It's hard to concentrate and study and make the most of your opportunities if you don't know or pay attention to your own priorities. I should know."
"You, sir?"
"It may surprise you to know that as a younger man, my ambition often got in the way of what was good for me. That was why Jim's father, Win, and I were such a good match. He kept me from burying my face in books and meetings and political handshaking nonsense to the point that I forgot how much I liked to go horseback riding and flirt with girls at the pub. Sometimes, watching you and Jim horse around and study - well, it brings me back to my own youth. Don't hesitate to ask me if you need letters of recommendation, introductions, etc. when it's time to apply."
Brian smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Wheeler. I really appreciate it!"
"Don't mention it. Go on to Maypenny's and have fun. Don't forget to bring my daughter back later. And stew! It'll be nice to have a father-son talk over Hunter's Stew later tonight."
When Brian had left, and Mr. Wheeler had gone back to the den, Jim slipped down the hallway and crawled into bed. He pulled the soft duvet up to his chin and willed the stiffness and soreness to leave his body. His head hurt a lot less in the dim light, pillowed by soft down stuffing, and his thoughts swirled in a happy, tangled mess. My best friend isn't going away to one of those California schools! Mr. Wheeler wants to eat stew with me later! Mr. Wheeler misses my dad. My new dad misses my dad and so do I. We have that in common. I wonder what ... what Dad used to say to Dad to get him to put down the books and have fun?
It was after eight when Brian dropped Honey off at the Manor House, with a well-wrapped care package of stew for Jim and Matthew. Honey had understood without needing to be told that the men of the family needed to talk alone, and scurried off to find her mother and Miss Trask.
Matthew Wheeler knocked softly on his new son's bedroom door. "Jim? You awake?"
A muffled, sleepy voice replied, and moments later, the door opened. Matthew almost laughed at the sight of the usually well-groomed and lively Jim looking rumpled and half-asleep.
"Well, if you didn't remind me of your dad before, and I assure you that you did, this brings to mind many long nights in college. Win liked his sleep. He was kind of a bear without his eight hours!"
Jim rubbed his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, that makes sense. My mother used to make me be the one to wake him up on Saturday mornings. She was always up with the sun."
"Come downstairs with me. We've got stew, and I want to talk to you about a few things." Seeing the worried look on the boy's face, he added, "Nothing bad, nothing you've got to worry about. I wanted to make sure you're feeling up to school in the morning, get some of that excellent Hunter's Stew into both of us, and tell you about talking to the police earlier today. You're the one who was hurt, and you should be kept in the loop."
Someday, I'm going to be used to the Wheelers being amazing. Someday this is going to feel normal instead of special. Part of him wanted it to always feel special and never take it for granted.
Downstairs in the kitchen, they tucked in to the Hunter's Stew and Matthew began. "I know the letter you got from Hans and Juliana upset you, and I think I might know why. Do you want to talk about it?"
He didn't, not really. His heart fluttered with panic for a moment. What if they wanted him to go? What if he was too much trouble? He hated ambiguity more than he feared an answer he didn't want to hear, so he looked his adoptive father in the eye and began, explaining everything he had told Mr. Belden in the car and all of his feelings about the letter. When he had finished, Mr. Wheeler reached out to lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"You don't ever have to go anywhere you don't want to. We want you to stay here with us and be our son and Honey's brother. But, I want you to know that we would never hold you back from having your blood family in your life either. I think there are compromises that can be made here. What would you say to us flying to Amsterdam sometime in the near future as a family? I'd love to get to know Juliana and Hans, see the sights, and then come home, to Sleepyside. Maybe in a few months after that, we can invite them to come here and stay again? Surely there are a limited number of times a person can get into unpleasant adventures in one town, right? Now that Jones and his creepy niece are both out of the picture, maybe Juliana would like to get a proper tour of the area and New York City?"
The feeling of relief that washed over Jim was like a wave of cold water after walking in the desert. He sighed. "I don't know why it got me all tied up inside, but it did. Did you talk to Mr. Belden? I sort of blurted everything out on the way to the ER."
"Peter mentioned that I should talk to you about it, but that's all he said. He didn't want to break your confidence. How does a visit to to the Netherlands sound to you? We can get your passport expedited, I think. It shouldn't take too long."
"It sounds great. Thanks, Dad!"
The word flew naturally off of his tongue this time, and when he saw his adoptive father's face light up in a grin, he felt another weight loosen and lift inside his heart.
"So, what happened at the police station? Any news?"
Matthew sighed. "Not really, not yet. I may have come on a bit strong, possibly said a few things I may regret. There's a reason Maddie's been upstairs alone most of the day. I fear I may have embarrassed her."
Jim couldn't help it. He had to laugh a little bit. "I wouldn't know anything about that, letting my temper get away from me. What did they say? What did you do?"
As it turned out, Mr. Wheeler had become incensed that no one had made a serious move on the case yet. Sergeant Molinson had pointed out that there were a limited number of officers and some of them weren't scheduled to work that weekend. When Matthew had more than inferred that he was willing to call in a few favors with the FBI, Molinson had taken offense, which started a shouting match in the station. Mrs. Wheeler, appalled at her husband's outburst, and angry that he refused to to calm down at her direction, had gotten into the coupe and driven it home without him. She had then given Cook the night off, and ordered delivery with Miss Trask, effectively sending the message that she didn't care who her husband was to have dinner with, but that it would not be her. He had called Tom for a ride home.
Matthew finished his tale, "And that, my boy, is how I came to have party leftovers and leftover stew for dinner."
Jim was torn between sympathizing with his dad and being more than a little bit impressed with Mother, and it must have shown on his face.
"No worries, Jim. We've argued before and we'll do it again. I should have kept my cool and I should have listened to her. Though, watching her peel out in that coupe, I'm reminded of our younger days! Always appreciate a woman who doesn't let you get away with bullsh-crap. Bullcrap."
It was reminding Jim of that first summer when Trixie and Honey were visiting him at the mansion, and he had gone off about mad weasels or something and made Trixie angry. Watching her turn and stomp away had been a turning point in his assessment of her character. This was a girl who wasn't going to be intimidated, who would always speak her mind. He hadn't been wrong. The very night he was hurt, she was shining a flashlight around in the dark, looking for clues. Today, her 'murderboard' in the clubhouse had touched his heart. Trixie didn't quit. He just needed to get himself back up to snuff in case her investigations got her into trouble. If she was on the case, the rest of the Bob-Whites were too.