God Bless the Child

Chapter 22

Joeanne Darnell, the youngest attorney in the history of the White Plains Attorney General’s Office, couldn’t believe this day had finally arrived.  She took one last look at her reflection, swallowing hard.  She’d spent an obscene amount of money on the dark gray suit she was wearing, but it was worth it.  It fit her perfectly and looked quietly elegant and professional.

This is it, she thought as she exited the ladies room, heading to her office to pick up her briefcase.  She stopped short at the sight of the crowd gathered in front of her desk.

“What’s going on?” she asked quietly, her heart secretly thudding in her chest.  Are they going to replace me?

Sylvia Lane, her supervisor, smiled at her and laid a hand on her shoulder.  “We just want to wish you good luck.  You’ve worked damn hard on this case; none of us thought it had a snowball’s chance in hell of succeeding.  But after everything you’ve uncovered...well, no matter what happens, we’re all proud of you.  That’s all.”  The other attorneys chimed in with similar encouragement, wishing her well; it was obvious from their expressions that they were sincere.

Joeanne couldn’t speak past the lump that had formed in her throat.  She had wondered if the day would ever come that the people here would stop thinking of her as some brash kid and just think of her as one of their own.  “Thank you,” she finally choked out.  She hadn’t realized how much she needed this validation until just this moment, her knees almost weak with it.

Sylvia ceremoniously handed over Joeanne’s briefcase.  “Knock ‘em dead, kid.”

Joeanne felt unusually solemn as she headed towards the elevator. The butterflies in her stomach were no match for the swelling of determination that filled her.  Dan, Jim and Trixie would be there; she had good witnesses, convincing evidence and baby Sammy was counting on her.  She had to make the jury believe that a mother could make her own child sick; she had to.

Go Batman! she almost heard her mother whisper as the doors closed. She could not fail.  It wasn’t an option.

***

Jim knew that talking Trixie out of going to the trial wasn’t an option so he did the next best thing; he went with her.  At least Honey is safe at home, he thought petulantly, stealing a sideways glance at Trixie as they settled in their seats near the back of the courtroom, where they wouldn’t distract Joeanne.  Honey was still dizzy and weak from her concussion, and under strict doctor’s orders not to leave her apartment for a week. 

Brian told Jim privately that after everything that happened, he was secretly relieved that her doctor had given that order.  “Your sister can be awfully stubborn about this kind of thing, and she wouldn’t have taken this doctor’s orders, I’ll tell you!”

“My sister can be stubborn?” Jim had retorted, and Brian had smiled sympathetically at him.

Jim unconsciously let out a sigh as he let his eyes roam around the room.  He never realized so many men had dark hair...

“What?” Trixie asked, laying her hand on top of his.  She had a pretty good idea what was making him so nervous, but there was no way she could miss the trial after everything they’d been through.

He turned his hand over and twined his fingers through hers.  “Nothing,” he said.

“I love you, mother bear.”

“Oh shut up!” he said weakly.

Dan joined them then, sliding into his chair with a frown.  “Damn, I never realized how many guys have dark hair,” he said, wondering what made Jim let out a short laugh.

“Everybody has to go through a metal detector before they come in here, and those court bailiffs look like they can handle just about anything,” Trixie commented.  Because of everything that had happened, there were extra bailiffs on duty.

“Yeah, I suppose.”  Dan glanced at her; if you looked closely you could still see the faintest trace of a bruise on her forehead.

The Courtroom was pretty full, which didn’t surprise Trixie.  There had been quite a few newspaper articles about the case, which drew an interested public.  Plus there was the usual small crowd of people who attend trials as a kind of hobby.  She made a face at the sight of Mrs. Lewis, perfectly dressed in a demure ‘mother-of-the-year’ dress, bending her head as her attorney whispered something in her ear.  Suddenly she stiffened.

“Dan,” she hissed, tilting her head to the right with a significant look.  Mr. Lewis entered the courtroom looking tired, pale and determined, slinking onto his seat and not looking at anyone.

Dan’s gaze raked over him expertly.  “He’s not armed,” he whispered back and Trixie nodded—she’d already ascertained that as well.

Jim tightened the hand that was still holding Trixie’s and he felt an answering squeeze.  Nothing’s going to happen in a courtroom packed full of people.  Nobody is that stupid, he thought desperately.  He glanced at Dan and was reassured by his usual alert readiness.  Although he was no slouch himself when it came to self-defense and protection, he had to admit that when it came to this type of business, Dan was the man you wanted to have around.  It was a great day for everyone when Regan brought his ‘experiment’ to Sleepyside, Jim thought.  There wasn’t anything Dan wouldn’t do for the people in his life, and Jim was glad to count him as one of his closest friends.

“We really don’t know if he’s the one; we need to keep our eyes open,” Trixie said, her voice low.  Her glance took in Meggie sitting with her parents and boyfriend a few rows ahead of her; frankly she was surprised that the girl had been able to talk them into coming at all.  She must be one persuasive girl. 

Meggie, as if sensing that she was thinking about her, turned her head and smiled slightly at her.  It had been quite a battle, but like Trixie, she couldn’t bear not attending the trial.  Not after everything she went through.  She was serious about majoring in Criminology once she graduated from high school and she wasn’t about to hide at home.  Her parents hadn’t liked it, not one bit, but when they saw how determined she was they told her she could attend as long as they went with her.  Even Andy finally seemed resigned to her choice of career, asking her in a low voice if he could come too.

“Agreed,” Dan replied.  His gaze took in Joeanne sitting at the table at the front, buried in her notes, and his face tightened.  He’d keep his eyes open all right.  “Don’t let me do anything stupid,” he muttered to Trixie, who immediately knew what he meant.

“Wow, you’re really serious about her, aren’t you?” she asked quietly.

In typical Dan fashion, his reply was short and to the point.  “Yeah,” was all he said.  Trixie wisely said nothing more, but her eyes lit up in spite of the tension.  When Dan and Joeanne had visited her after the accident, she could immediately tell from their body language that they were together, and she was glad for both of them.

They grew quiet as the Court bailiff bade them to all rise, the judge striding into the room.  His stern face silently sent the message that serious business was at hand before he sat down, banging his gavel to indicate that court was in session, and asking that everyone be seated.

Joeanne took a deep breath and rose when asked if the state was prepared to make an opening statement.  “We are, your Honor.”  She faced the jury and spoke the words she had spent the past week preparing, the words she’d spoken over the phone to her parents just to try them out, the words she’d practiced in the dark while laying in Dan’s arms.  They had to be perfect and they were.

“I’m convinced,” Jim whispered to Trixie afterwards, impressed.

“That kicked ass!” she whispered back enthusiastically, causing both men to smile.

Joeanne sat back down, outwardly composed.  Whew! Okay, okay, that went well.  I laid out all the facts, I kept my emotions out of it, okay; okay.  She schooled her face into a mild “gee, what a shame that this nice man has been so fooled by his client” expression as Mrs. Lewis’s attorney began to speak.  Her heart sank as his words went on and on, painting the sad picture of a single mother who lives only for her child, a child ripped away from her just when he needs her the most...

“Arghh, give me a break,” Dan muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Trixie.  When she didn’t reply, he glanced at her troubled face.  “C’mon Trix, you’re not actually buying this crap, are you?”

“Well no, of course not.  It’s just...God Dan, you’re not a parent.  You just can’t...”  Trixie shook her head.  “Even knowing everything I know, this is getting to me.  And if it’s getting to me, it’s getting to them,” she continued, indicating the rapt jury with a tilt of her head.

“Jim?”  Dan looked at his normally level-headed friend.

Jim forced the image of Katy, sick and alone and crying, wondering why he wasn’t there with her, out of his head.  “Oh yeah—it’s affecting me too.  Joeanne’s really got her work cut out for her.”

Dan sat back, silent.  Joeanne had told him this would happen, but he didn’t believe her.  For him, it was pretty cut and dried—as incomprehensible as the idea was, the facts were there.  How could anybody ignore them?  But Jim and Trixie were two of the smartest people he knew; he respected their judgment.  And if they were having a hard time, he could only imagine the difficulties the jury was up against.  He hoped they were able to put their emotions aside when the time came.

Trixie sat up straighter when Sammy’s nurse took the stand—things were about to get very interesting.  “That’s the nurse I told you about.  Katje,” she whispered to Jim.

After Joeanne had questioned her about her years of experience, letting Katje’s calm intelligence speak for itself, she asked her to tell the jury about Munchausen by Proxy syndrome.  “We’ve already heard the psychiatrist’s explanation, but I think the jury would benefit from hearing about your experiences with this illness,” Joeanne said, guessing that the jury would more likely believe a ‘working class’ person’s explanation over a high priced doctor’s.

“Objection, your Honor! This woman is not a licensed psychiatrist and anything she has to say is only speculation,” Mrs. Lewis’ attorney protested.

“She has twenty years experience as a nurse, and I’m not asking her to repeat the complicated medical definitions, only share her considerable experience,” Joeanne countered calmly.  Inside she was quaking—if the judge sustained the objection, a strong part of her case was gone.  She still had the evidence that Meggie uncovered and the undeniable lab results, but in a case as emotional as this one, she needed to throw everything she had at the jury.

“Objection overruled. You may continue.”

Katje nodded seriously and began; using the simplest terms and leaving her own emotions out of the picture, she wove a hideous tapestry of medical horror and family betrayal. 

“You state that this is the most difficult form of child abuse to detect.  Why is that?” Joeanne asked.

Katje looked grim.  “Doctor’s rarely have the time to check pediatric records.  Instead, they rely almost exclusively on parental reporting.  It’s an open license to fabricate symptoms.”

“Can you share an example of this with the jury?”

“Unfortunately, I can.  Many years ago, a young boy was brought to the hospital I was working in at the time.  His mother claimed that he was born with chronic stomach problems, that he’d always had a problem with digestion.  And indeed, the youngster was unable to keep anything down and suffered from almost constant pain and diarrhea.”

“And what happened with this young child?”

“He died not long after.  Fortunately, the doctor had an extensive autopsy performed because the severity of the symptoms was so acute.”

“And what did this autopsy reveal?” Joeanne asked, knowing that the answer would plant the first seed of possibility in the jury’s mind.

Katje’s voice held a hint of sadness.  “Toxicology analysis of the boy’s tissues revealed an elevated level of arsenic.  The mother was called in for questioning and her purse confiscated.  The investigators tested the bottle of Kaopectate she had in there and found it contained traces of rat poisoning.”

The jury gasped audibly as Mrs. Lewis’ attorney leapt to his feet.  “Objection! This has absolutely no bearing on this case and I ask that it be stricken from the record.”

“Your honor, it goes hand in hand with the psychiatrist’s explanation of Munchausen by Proxy Syndrome, which testimony you did allow.”

“Ms. Darnell, I do not need to be reminded of what I have allowed and not allowed,” the judge said severely.  “However, your point is taken and the objection is overruled.  The remarks will remain on the record.”

“Woo hoo!” Trixie said softly.

“Damn, Joeanne was right.  This judge is a hard ass,” Dan commented.

“But at least he’s fair,” Jim pointed out.

The nurse’s testimony continued, mainly concerning Sammy’s rapid improvement once out of the care of his mother.  Mrs. Lewis’s attorney cross examined her, and Katje calmly answered his questions about Mrs. Lewis’ love and concern.

“In your opinion,” he said, shooting a ‘what a shame this bitter woman is so severely mistaken about my client’ look at Joeanne, “did Deborah Lewis behave like a concerned parent?”

“Yes; outwardly.  She rarely left the hospital and seemed genuinely upset by the situation.”

“Thank you.  I have nothing further for this witness.”

“You’re excused,” the judge said and Katje stepped down.  Her eyes met those of Deborah Lewis’ for a moment and they weren’t accusing, only sad and tired.  Her first duty was to protect Sammy, but she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of regret over the young mother.  The mother who had poisoned her son all those years ago had suffered a complete nervous breakdown upon her arrest, and was still housed in a mental facility.  She had an emotionally deprived childhood with a history of physical abuse, a combination that is usually found in most Munchausen cases. 

All that matters is that Sammy is safe, Katje reminded herself, but it never failed to depress her how some people simply cannot escape their pasts. It depressed her even more that these same people usually ended up perpetuating the cycle by harming their own children, literally insuring that the generations to come would carry the pain forward into the future.

Dr. Uniat took the stand next and Joeanne wasted no time.  “Doctor, please tell the jury about the events that took place last Tuesday.”

The doctor shifted uncomfortably, carefully keeping his gaze away from the young mother who was staring at him with a pleading expression.  “Samuel suffered what we believed at the time was a seizure.”

“But that wasn’t the case at all, was it?” Joeanne said, giving him a look.  This was no time for misplaced sympathy.

Dr. Uniat’s expression tightened, but he knew she was right.  It was a galling thing, having to admit that this...kid had been right all along.  But as a medical professional he could no longer ignore what was right in front of him.  “No.  Sammy suffered from a severe hypoglycemic reaction brought on by elevated insulin levels.”

“Elevated insulin levels,” Joeanne repeated, knowing that the jury could not help but see the parallel between what happened to Sammy and what happened to the unfortunate little boy that Katje talked about.  “Could this occur naturally in a person?”

He shook his head.  “No, it could not.”

“How then could something like this happen?”

Dr. Uniat’s tone was grim and for the first time he allowed his gaze to rest upon Mrs. Lewis.  “It could only happen if Insulin was injected into a non-diabetic person,” he said heavily.  Mrs. Lewis looked at the table.

Joeanne walked to her table and carefully picked up the object that was lying there.  Thank you Meggie! she thought as she carried it over to the doctor.  “Doctor, can you tell us what this is?”

The older man’s face tightened, his expression black.  “It’s a syringe, the type commonly used to administer insulin.”

Joeanne handed it to the judge.  “The people ask that this be marked into evidence as exhibit A.”  She turned to the jury.  “A young volunteer found this under Sammy’s crib, not long after she discovered him having what appeared to be a seizure.”  She was glad to see that she had the jury’s undivided attention.  “Independent lab testing found that it had contained Insulin,” she finished.  There could be no mistaking her meaning and Joeanne was gratified to see that several members of the jury were taking careful notes.

She turned back to the doctor.  “Doctor Uniat, could you tell the jury about your findings after this information came to light?”

Even from the back, Trixie, Jim and Dan could see the severe expression on his face.  “I almost feel sorry for the old fool,” Jim muttered.

“I don’t,” Dan and Trixie said together.  “He’s the one who didn’t report Mrs. Lewis’ constant visits,” Trixie added. 

“As meds are always carefully accounted for, we did a record check and found that a syringe of insulin was missing from the nurse’s station on Sammy’s floor.  This led to us testing Sammy for traces of insulin, which we did indeed find.”

Joeanne went in for the kill.  “Dr. Uniat, where was Mrs. Lewis on the day in question?”

The doctor was slow in answering.  “She was where she always was; in the waiting room in between visits with her son.”

“And can you tell us the location of this waiting room?”

“It is located right next to the nurse’s station.”

“Thank you, Doctor.  I have no further questions.”

Meggie squeezed Andy’s arm.  “I know how upset you were, but I will NEVER regret going into Sammy’s room that day,” she said intensely.  He turned his head and looked at her steadily.

“Why do I have to be in love with a girl who puts me through such agony?” he asked, but his eyes were tender.  It had finally occurred to him that he had two choices, and the one that was right for him involved being in a position where he could actually be of help.

Meggie gulped and didn’t say anymore.  She wished he hadn’t picked such a public place to tell her he was in love with her, but there was no denying the tingle that was starting in her toes and steadily traveling upwards.  “Mrs. Lewis is taking the stand,” she finally said, tearing her eyes back to the front.  But she left her hand tucked in his arm, her fingers warm on his bicep.

Trixie let her eyes wander the room as the young mother took the stand, raising her right hand and swearing under penalty of perjury to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  She noticed that Mr. Lewis’ hands were clenched into fists, his gaze impenetrable as he stared at his ex-wife, his lines of his body tensed and ultra alert.  But everybody in the room was staring at Mrs. Lewis—Trixie supposed it was only natural.  She’s the star of this horror movie, after all, Trixie thought tiredly.  She wished Honey was with her, but she understood why it was better for her to be at home. 

She started as Dan grabbed his arm, her happy thoughts about Honey’s impending motherhood shattered.  “Trix, look at that guy sitting all the way in the back.”

She glanced discreetly towards the rear corner of the court room and frowned at the unusually intense expression standing out on the man’s features.  Even though it was warm in the packed room, he was still wearing his fleece cap and heavy coat.

“What is it?” Jim whispered alertly.

Dan shook his head.  “I don’t know.  I just don’t like it.”

“What?” Trixie asked, turning back to Dan.  “He looks pretty involved, but look around; everybody in the room is staring at Mrs. Lewis.  Mr. Lewis is the one who looks like he’s about to explode.”

Dan shrugged helplessly.  “I don’t know,” he said again.  He didn’t want to say that back in his gang days, if they saw another gang member with that expression, they knew they had to take him out before he took out one of them.

Joeanne had expected Mrs. Lewis’ attorney to point out that her fingerprints were not found on the syringe when he cross examined Dr. Uniat, so she wasted no time getting back on track.  “Mrs. Lewis, how would you explain the fact that Sammy only weighed nine pounds when you bought him in to Beth Abraham Hospital last month?”

“Sammy’s always had a very delicate digestion.  He is allergic to everything except breast milk and,” she broke off and bit her lip before continuing, “I’m afraid I haven’t always been able to keep up with his demand.”

“According to the Nurse’s testimony we heard earlier, Sammy not only had no trouble digesting the formula they fed him, he thrived, gaining both weight and health.  How do you account for that?”

“I don’t understand it,” Mrs. Lewis said softly.  “It wasn’t like that at home.”

Joeanne glanced at her notes.  “Mrs. Lewis, you’ve taken Sammy to five different hospitals since he’s been born, and he’s had numerous doctors of record.  Can you explain this?”  Thanks love, Joeanne thought to herself.  Dan’s part in the investigation had involved tons of phone calls and interviews with doctors, uncovering a trail that had led to hospitals all over the state of New York.

Mrs. Lewis straightened.  “I love my son.  If I don’t like the way a doctor is handling his health, then I have the right to take him to somebody else.  What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with it is you would move on when they would start to become suspicious, when they would start to wonder why Sammy’s symptoms never seemed to have any logical cause.”

Mrs. Lewis’ attorney rose.  “Perhaps Ms. Darnell would like to save her closing argument for the end of the trial?”

“Sustained.  Ms. Darnell, do you have any more questions for this witness?” the judge said warningly.

Joeanne was serene—her point had not been lost on the jury.  “Yes, your Honor, I do.”  She turned back to Mrs. Lewis.  “Mrs. Lewis, isn’t it true that you once had a daughter?”  Mrs. Lewis turned white as her attorney leapt to his feet objecting to the relevance of this information.

“Your Honor, I am trying to show that a pattern exists here.”

The Judge took a moment and Joeanne almost stopped breathing.  “I’ll allow it, but I’ll stop it immediately if it becomes clear to me that you are introducing wild speculations and unfounded suspicions.”

“Your Honor, this is pointless to the point of being cruel!  Hasn’t my client been through enough?”

The Judge frowned darkly.  “Your objection has been overruled,” he repeated, his tone clear that the matter was closed.  “Mrs. Lewis, you will please answer the question,” he said in a softer voice.

Mrs. Lewis wrung her hands.  “Yes,” she whispered.

Suddenly, Mr. Lewis leapt to his feet.  “You don’t have to say anymore!” he yelled angrily.

The judge slammed his gavel down.  “Sir, take your seat and do not interrupt these proceedings again or I will have you held in contempt of Court.”

Trixie, Dan and Jim had all gone rigid at Mr. Lewis’ outburst.  Trixie could tell from the alert postures of Meggie, her parents and Andy that they were pretty much thinking the same thing that they were thinking. 

Trixie glanced at the rear corner of the room again, but the man Dan pointed out had apparently left.

Joeanne took a deep breath before continuing.  “Mrs. Lewis, isn’t it true that your daughter died under mysterious circumstances?”

“They weren’t able to find a cause,” Mrs. Lewis choked out. 

Dan looked at Mr. Lewis and was disconcerted to realize the man was crying brokenly, his face buried in his hands.  He felt some of the tension leave his body—there was no way this man was capable of even standing, let alone hurting anybody.

“Oh man,” Jim muttered, following Dan’s look.  It wasn’t difficult to imagine his own reaction if anything like that ever happened to his own daughter.  It was such an awful thought that he felt that morning’s breakfast churn in his stomach.

“Would it surprise you to know that a toxicology analysis has revealed a cause?  That the Attorney General’s Office was able to obtain a Court order to have such a test performed?”

Mrs. Lewis remained silent, twisting her hands, tears running down her face.

Joeanne walked back to her table and picked up a file, handing it to the judge.  “The People ask that these test results be admitted into the record as Exhibit B.”  She faced Mrs. Lewis.  “The tests show that your daughter died from a severe hypoglycemic reaction.  A reaction, as Dr. Uniat’s testimony revealed, that is caused by Insulin introduced into the system of a non-diabetic person.”  She felt pain fill her and could not stop her voice from slightly rising above the professionally calm pitch she’d been using.  “Couldn’t you even come up with a different method?”

“Objection!”  Mrs. Lewis’ attorney was practically purple.

“I withdraw the question. Mrs. Lewis, doesn’t it strike you as odd that Sammy is suffering from the same set of symptoms as his sister?” Joeanne added grimly.

Mr. Lewis had stopped crying and was staring at Joeanne as if she’d grown a second head, his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscle jumped.  Dan unconsciously started to rise until Trixie’s hand on his arm stilled him.  “It’s okay,” she hissed at him.  “There’s a bailiff right by him and he’s paying attention,” she pointed out.  She moved her hand up his arm and squeezed his shoulder sympathetically.

“I’m a good mother,” Mrs. Lewis said jerkily, swiping at her eyes as the tears started to roll.

“You’re not, Mrs. Lewis.”  Joeanne’s voice was suddenly flat and bleak.  Trixie felt a little shiver as she recognized the desolate expression filtering through Joeanne’s expressive face.  It was the same look she had when she first described the case to her and Honey, the look that had Trixie wondering why she was taking this case so personally.

“I took care of them!” Mrs. Lewis cried out.

“You hurt them!  You hurt your son and you killed your daughter.  You killed her!” Joeanne yelled.  Her eyes burned with an unnatural light, her face pale except for two bright spots of color flaming in her cheeks.

“She...she...she was only supposed to get sick.  She wasn’t supposed to die!”  Mrs. Lewis wailed.  She looked at Joeanne and her eyes were confused.  “I’m a good mother,” she repeated, her voice dazed.  For a moment, the silence in the room was almost deafening as the truth of Mrs. Lewis’ words filled the spectators with undeniable horror.

“Oh my God,” Trixie breathed.  Even though it was what she suspected, hearing it spoken so plainly and undeniably filled her with an almost wild grief.  She gripped Jim’s hand and closed her eyes, opening them when she heard Mr. Lewis over the din of the excited audience and the judge’s gavel pounding for order.

“How could you do it?  Why?  Why?” he screamed out, rising unsteadily to his feet.  He didn’t resist when the nearby bailiff gently took his arm and began to lead him out of the room.

Meggie wept on Andy’s shoulder while her father, sitting on her other side, rubbed her back.  Never in her entire life had she heard something so awful, so entirely evil it took her breath away.  She allowed them to lead her out of the room, wanting nothing more than to return to her teenage life.  She hadn’t changed her mind about her chosen profession, but she’d had enough for one day.

Joeanne sank back down at the table, trembling, her emotions running riot.  A part of her was savagely glad for she knew that Sammy was finally and unequivocally safe.  But she was also consumed with a grief that had never left her, a sorrow she doubted she’d ever be free from.

“This Court is adjourned and the jury excused with the thanks of the Court,” the judge barked.  He ordered the bailiffs to take Mrs. Lewis into custody and was lifting his gavel to officially end the trial when the figure rushed up to the witness stand.  “You lying...I loved you so much and you lied to me. All this time I’ve been coming to the hospital with you and feeling like I wanted to die every time you cried!  And it was all just a lie!”  Mrs. Lewis kept her eyes on the ground, her face blank.

A bailiff grabbed him from behind, turning him around as he struggled to subdue him,  pushing him towards the back of the room where there were small interview rooms as Mrs. Lewis was led away.

As they neared to where she was sitting, Trixie let out a loud gasp as she was flooded with images, the excited babble of the courtroom fading as everything went into slow-motion around her.  She remembered opening her eyes to find smoke curling up from the smashed in hood, filling the car so she could hardly see.  Her heart freezing as she realized that Honey had gotten the worst of the impact, that she was unconscious and obviously pinned behind the wheel.  But mostly she remembered his eyes, the eyes of the man approaching the car and peering inside, the same eyes that were now meeting her own.  If it hadn’t have been for the cop showing up when he did, there was no doubt in Trixie’s mind that this man would have finished them off.  And Honey was stuck...

“Trix, what’s wrong?” Jim asked, hearing her muffled exclamation of fear and feeling her fingers bite into his hand as the memories swept through her, overwhelming and completely immobilizing her.  She tried to answer but only a moan came out.  He looked to where she was staring just as the man stopped struggling with the bailiff, his cap falling off to reveal dark wavy hair.

“You!” he said before he could stop himself.  It had never occurred to him that either one of those women had survived the crash.  When he’d approached the car they’d both looked dead and he’d been consumed with guilt ever since.

He’d never loved anyone the way he’d loved his girlfriend Deborah, believing her when she told him that she was being persecuted, wanting nothing more out of life than to protect her.  When he’d seen the women at the hospital and understood what they were trying to do, he’d been filled with a blind rage.  He’d only wanted to frighten them away and had been horrified at the sight of their lifeless bodies in the twisted, burning BMW.

“This is the guy that ran you off the road?” Jim’s eyes flashed black murder.  With an economy of motion he went for the dark haired man, completely ignoring the startled bailiff as his fist connected again and again with a satisfying crack of knuckles on bone.

Trixie’s mouth fell open and she was finally able to speak.  “Dan, stop him before something terrible happens!” she begged.  Dan dove towards his friend, two Court bailiff’s joining in, and it took all three of them.

Jim shrugged off the other men, but he stood quietly, breathing heavily.

“No don’t,” the dark haired man said as the second bailiff began to place Jim in custody.  He looked at Jim.  “He had good reason, believe me.”  Blood was streaming out of his nose and he accepted the first bailiff’s handkerchief, pressing it onto his face with his one free hand.

“Just what the hell is going on here?” the first bailiff asked, tightening his grip on the dark haired man.  It wasn’t really necessary; all the fight had completely left him.

“I was only trying to protect the woman I love, I was just trying to scare them,” he said bleakly.  “You can understand that, can’t you?”

Jim could feel the knuckles of his right hand throb with pain.  “You could have killed them,” he replied, his voice heavy with malice.  He could understand wanting to protect the woman he loved, all right.  “And you attacked a young girl—I don’t have to understand anything, you son of a bitch.”  He put the arm that wasn’t being held behind his back around Trixie as she joined him. 

The man flinched but didn’t deny it.  It was like he’d been living in a cloud of confusion and was finding the revealed sunlight blinding.

“You’re both going to have to come with us,” the first bailiff insisted.

“Look, let him go man.  Everything he’s saying is true.  And I don’t want to press assault charges, so what’s the point?”  The dark haired man stared at the floor.  He didn’t really care what happened.  He’d envisioned a life with Deborah and Sammy and now he had nothing.  Nothing except for the knowledge that he’d hurt innocent people.  He almost welcomed the pain that throbbed through his nose and jaw.

“Fine,” the second bailiff said, letting go of Jim’s arm.  “But I want you out of my courtroom, okay buddy?”

Jim let out an ironic laugh.  “I don’t ever want to be in your courtroom again, believe me.”  He watched as they led the subdued man away, still feeling the adrenaline rush, still secretly wanting to smash the guy’s face in. 

“Damn Jim, I didn’t know you had it in you!” Dan joked.  “I thought you were too honorable for vigilante justice.”  He glanced at Joeanne’s table, but she was already gone, no doubt talking to the Judge in his chambers.

“It isn’t funny.  You could have been arrested for assault,” Trixie said, pulling away from him.  “What the hell were you thinking?”

“That I wanted to kill the guy who hurt you and Honey,” Jim admitted sheepishly.  Now that the red haze of anger was finally leaving him, he was a bit nonplussed at his violent behavior.

Trixie groaned.  “What am I going to do with you?  First Mr. Griffin and now this guy.  You’re out of control, buddy!”

Jim began to smile weakly.  “What can I say, you just bring out the wild animal in me.”

“Well, on that note, I’m going to find Joeanne who also brings out the wild animal in me,” Dan said, shooting for a lighter mood.  He faced his two close friends.  “Man, lighten up.  Don’t you guys realize what’s happened?  Sammy is safe—he never has to worry about being hurt by that looney again!”

Trixie’s eyes lit up—she’d been so consumed by her own dark memories and her worry over Jim, she’d almost forgotten.  “You’re absolutely right, Dan.  We’ve won.  We’ve won!”  She threw her arms around Jim and hugged him tightly, suddenly overcome with the relief and joy that had been eluding her ever since she agreed to help Joeanne with this case.

“You owe me so big, my friend,” Dan whispered to Jim, his black eyes shining.  He wanted nothing more than to find Joeanne and congratulate her, Dan style.

“I think you’ve known that for a long time,” Jim replied lightly.  Dan had never let him express his thanks for everything he did during the whole Kyle Dalton affair, and he could tell by his expression that now was not an exception.  “Come on you guys, let’s go find Joeanne and do a victory war dance or something.”  He laughed at the sudden expression on Dan’s face.  “Oh, we won’t stay long, Casanova!”  He ducked Dan’s playful swing.

But Joeanne wasn’t in the Judge’s chambers after all.  “She left just a minute ago,” the judge told them, taking an enormous swig of coffee.  “What a day,” he said, shaking his head.  He hoped he never had to preside over such an awful case again.

“I wonder why she didn’t come see us?” Dan said, his eyes troubled.  He was getting the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

“Let’s go to her office; maybe she’s there,” Trixie suggested, her blue eyes reflecting Dan’s worry.

They found the elevator and rode up to her floor in worried silence, but she wasn’t there either.  They spoke to an older Hispanic woman who, Trixie remembered, was Joeanne’s supervisor.

“We’ve all been waiting for her, to congratulate her, but she didn’t come back,” Sylvia Lane said, her face set in worried lines.  “Please, when you find her, have her call me and let me know she’s all right.”  She shook her head, pushing her hair behind her neck when it swung over her shoulders.  “This kind of case can consume you.  I don’t mind telling you I’m very worried about her.”

The three friends were sober when they rode the elevator down to the parking garage.  “I’m going to her apartment,” Dan said decisively, worry like a cold fist in his stomach.

“Do you want us to come with you?” Trixie asked.

Dan shook his head.  “No.  I know you guys are worried too, but let me do this.  Okay?”

“Call us if you need anything at all,” Jim said as Trixie was opening her mouth to protest.

Dan strode to his car without a backward glance as Trixie turned to Jim.

“I think we should go with him—he looks a little nuts!”

“That’s why we need to stay out of it.”  Jim looked at Trixie’s determined face and sighed.  “All right.  Tell me I’m being a real jerk and that you don’t appreciate me answering for you.”

His statement was so uncannily accurate that she grinned, feeling her momentary irritation fade away.  “You know, I really hate that.  You make it impossible for me to stay ticked off at you.  That is so unfair!”

“Well you know what they say about fair; it’s where pigs go to win ribbons!” Jim threw one of her favorite sayings at her as they reached his Tahoe.  He opened the door for her and bowed mockingly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Trixie muttered, getting in and closing the door.  She turned to him as he sat beside her, closing his door and putting the keys in the ignition.  “But I’m still worried about Joeanne.  She should be happy; this is what she’s worked for.”

“I know.  I’m worried about her too.  But Dan will find her and everything will be okay.”

“How do you know?”

Jim leaned towards her and drew her into a tight embrace.  “Because.  Whether he knows it or not, he’s in love with her.  And he’ll do whatever it takes.”  He laid his cheek on top of her head and closed his eyes.  “I really did want to kill that guy,” he admitted quietly. 

“I know,” Trixie said, pressing her face into his shirt, her arms sliding up his back.  “I know you did.”

***

Dan was just about to kick the door in when Joeanne finally opened it.  “What?” she said numbly, her face drawn and tired.

“What?  We were worried sick about you, you just disappeared on us, that’s what!” Dan exclaimed.

“I’m sorry about that.  I just had to get out of there,” she said, pushing the words past her lips.

“Joeanne, what’s the matter?  You won.”  Dan entered her apartment, closing the door and putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Yes.  I won.”  Joeanne’s voice sounded so strange that Dan was frightened.  “I’m going to have a coke.  You want anything?”

“I want you to tell me what the hell is going on with you,” he said, putting his arms around her.

Joeanne wanted nothing more than to lose herself in his embrace, but she had to hold onto her control before she revealed everything.  If that happened, he would stop looking at her like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was.  “Dan, there’s nothing wrong with me.  I’ve been under a lot of pressure and I’m just really tired.”  She pulled away from him and went into the kitchen.

Dan stood there a moment then followed her.  “Aren’t you glad that Sammy is safe?”  He wanted to understand why she looked like she just attended a funeral.

Joeanne closed the refrigerator door.  “God yes,” she said passionately.  At least I was able to save him, she thought, feeling unshed tears burn behind her eyes.

“Then why are you acting like it’s the end of the world?”

Joeanne sank down at the table and buried her face in her hands.  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she choked.

Dan sat across from her.  “You have to,” he said simply.

“Why?”

“Because ever since I’ve met you, there’s been this thing hanging over your head.  And whatever it is, it’s making you so sad,” Dan said slowly.

Joeanne jumped to her feet, suddenly feeling as if she’d been stripped nude and set down in a crowded shopping mall.  “I think you should leave,” she said desperately.  She began to walk into the living room when Dan’s hand on her arm stopped her.

“Joeanne...”

She jerked her arm away.  “Please just go,” she moaned, stumbling into the living room.  She sank down on the couch, no longer able to hold back her tears of despair.  Was she going to feel bad for the rest of her life?

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong,” Dan said firmly, sitting down beside her and crossing his arms.  He had the air of a man who isn’t going to move for a hundred years.

“Why is it so important to you?” she asked, looking at him through a blur of moisture.

“Because I have a very low tolerance for your pain,” he admitted a bit awkwardly, tracing under her eye with his thumb.  When she remained silent he added stiffly, “I realize you haven’t known me for very long, but I just thought...well.  I guess I was uh...” Dan stood up.  “I’m an idiot,” he said flatly.  “I’m sorry.”  He was so sorry he thought he might actually drop dead.  He stood up and headed for the door, wondering why God thought  falling in love with somebody was such a hot idea.  As far as he was concerned, it pretty much sucked.

“Dan...wait.  Please don’t go,” she cried.

“Why is it so important to you?” he said sarcastically, trying to push past the pain.

“Oh my God, forget it and get the hell out.  I can’t believe I was actually worried that if I told you, you might not want to see me anymore.”  Joeanne’s chest was heaving as she choked out the words.

Dan could not believe he had said what he said—it was like he was having an out-of-body experience and his evil twin Skippy was in charge of his mouth.  “Would it help if I said I was an asshole?”

“It might.”  Joeanne stared at him incredulously; wondering how the hell they’d gotten there.  “Did we just have our first fight?”

“Yeah, I guess we did. And I really am sorry for what I said.”  Dan sat back down and took her hand, playing with her fingers.  “Don’t you know there’s nothing you could tell me that would make me not want to see you anymore?  Well, except for ‘Dan, I don’t want to see you anymore’, I suppose.”  He had meant for his words to be light but realized they were anything but.

“Well, I should probably spend some more time making you feel terrible, but what the heck.  I haven’t any immediate plans to say that I don’t want to see you anymore.  Because for some insane reason, I do!”  Joeanne felt a little lightheaded at Dan’s obvious interest in her.  Now if she could just keep it...

“And now I’m realizing that I’ve been skillfully led away from our original topic of conversation.”  Dan said, looking her in the eye.  When she lowered her gaze he lifted her chin with his finger.  “Please tell me why you ran from the court today, and why you get such a sad expression sometimes.”

“I don’t mean this sarcastically; I just really need to know.  Why is this so important to you?”

“I told you; I have a low tolerance for your pain.  I’m worried about you.  And,” Dan figured she had a point, he could hardly expect her to reveal something so obviously personal and hold back himself, “I guess I need to know that you trust me.”

“I do trust you.  Completely,” Joeanne whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. “It...it has to do with Richard.”  She felt him involuntarily stiffen.  “You’re still not allowed to find him and kill him,” she joked weakly.

“Did you want to win this case to prove to him that you don’t need him?” Dan asked.  The idea displeased him more than he cared to admit.

“No.”  Joeanne closed her eyes.  “I don’t need him.  I never needed him.  I...after I let the relationship continue, I found out that I...I found out that I was pregnant.”

Dan couldn’t stop his sharp intake of breath, pulling her into him when she began to move away.  “Then what happened?” he gritted out.  He had a pretty good idea and it was literally making him ill with rage.  I told him something he didn’t like hearing and he hit me; he pushed me and made me fall onto a coffee table.  I haven’t been with him since…

Joeanne burst into tears.  “You know what happened.  And it was my fault.  I knew, I knew he would react badly to the news.  And I made the decision to tell him.  I made it.  I may as well have gotten an abortion.  In a way, I killed my own baby.”

“No, you didn’t.  You didn’t,” Dan said, crushing her into him. 

“And I thought, if I can just save Sammy everything will be okay.  And it is.  For him...”

“Joeanne, it’s not your fault.  It’s his fault.  Completely.  Can’t you see that?”  As far as he was concerned, Jim had the right idea.  If he ever saw Joeanne’s ex boyfriend again, he wasn’t going to be responsible for his actions.

“I don’t know.  Why did I tell him?  That’s the question I keep asking myself over and over,” Joeanne said, suddenly exhausted.

“It’s the wrong question.  The real question is, how can this guy live with himself?  Of course you told him—he was responsible.  He’s supposed to be an adult.”  Dan kissed her and stroked her hair.  “If you were driving down the street and some guy broadsides you, you wouldn’t say ‘it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have been driving on that road’, would you?”

“That’s hardly the same thing,” Joeanne murmured.  “I knew he wouldn’t be happy...”

“Did you know he was going to hit you, shove you, cause you to have a miscarriage?”  There didn’t seem to be an end to his hatred and rage for Richard, the ex from Hell.

“No...”

“Blaming yourself changes nothing.  Isn’t that what you told me the other day?”

Joeanne pressed her face into his neck.  “We have really got to stop meeting this way,” she joked weakly.  She could hardly believe his reaction—it seemed too good to be true that he didn’t think she was a horrible person.

“By blaming yourself, you’re taking away his guilt, you’re excusing his behavior,” Dan said firmly.  During his time as a police officer, he’d made this speech more times than he cared to remember.  And every single time, it was true.

Joeanne went still.  “I never looked at it that way,” she admitted.  Dan felt his heart soar—he knew appealing to her sense of justice was the right way to go.

“Well, keep looking at it that way, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Joeanne promised. 

“See that you do,” Dan joked, kissing the tip of her nose.  They sat with their arms around each other in silence, both needing to absorb the moment.

“Dan, what are we doing?” Joeanne blurted.  “I feel so childish for asking this, but if somebody said ‘who’s that’ and I answered ‘that’s my boyfriend’, would I be, um, wrong?”

“Only if you were standing next to somebody who wasn’t me!” Dan laughed, the question delighting him as no question ever had in his whole life.  He kissed her until she could hardly remember her own name, the sadness that had held her for so long quietly removing its claws and taking its place in the past.  Where it belonged.

Epilogue - New Year’s Eve

“Trixie,” Jim whispered, the moonlight barely illuminating the curls that were spread all over her pillow.

Trixie kept on sleeping.

“Trix,” Jim said louder.

Trixie rolled over and buried her face into his chest, mumbling something that sounded like Swahili.

“TRIXIE!”

Trixie woke up with a start.  “What? Who?”  She lifted her head and looked at him fuzzily.

Jim smiled.  “Happy Anniversary,” he said happily.

Trixie groaned and dropped her head back down.  “Are you nuts? It’s the middle of the night!” 

“No it’s not; it’s four-thirty.  In the morning,” he said in his most reasonable voice.

“Oooh, you are so dead,” Trixie exclaimed.  She scooted to the edge of the bed and leaned down to the floor.

“What are you...” Jim’s words were cut off as a stream of very cold water hit him right in the face from the squirt gun Trixie had hidden the night before.

“Happy anniversary, baby!” she laughed, squirting him again as he dove for her, making a grab for the gun.  Before he knew what happened, he was lying flat on his back, Trixie calmly straddling him.  “FBI... basic training,” she said with a grin, bending down and kissing him, tossing the squirt gun on the floor.

“Marriage...the early years,” he rejoined, pulling her against him, his mouth meeting hers in a lingering kiss as she moved seductively against him.

“Aren’t you tired of me yet?” she murmured, rubbing her nose along his.

Instead of answering he started to remove the tee shirt she was wearing, one of his old college shirts that was three sizes too big for her.

“Guess not,” she giggled.  “Just what do you think you’re doing, buster?”

“Unwrapping my anniversary present,” he murmured in reply.

***

Madeleine Wheeler turned to her husband with a satisfied smile.  “Everything looks beautiful,” she commented, indicating the large room in Manor House that would be called by some a ballroom.  Gold and silver balloons were held aloft, suspended by a white net that would be released at the proper moment, the hardwood floor shone from its recent cleaning, and everywhere else the room was filled with out-of-season flowers, specially ordered for the occasion, and softly glowing candles.

“It sure does,” he responded, never taking his eyes off of his wife.

“You’re not looking,” she protested, indicating the room with a wave of her slender hand.

“Sure I am,” he responded, playfully pulling her into a hug and kissing her forehead.

“I wonder if you’ll ever grow up,” she said with a fond smile, resting her head on one broad shoulder.

“Seems like it’s more trouble than its worth.  Besides, we’re having a party!”  With his face lit up in anticipation, Madeleine found it hard to believe that her husband wasn’t the impetuous 17 year old boy she fell in love with so long ago.

“We sure are,” she agreed, pulling his face down to hers and brushing his mouth with a kiss.  “Can you believe Jim and Trixie have been married for five years already?  And that Honey is giving us another grandchild in five and a half months?  I hate to say this, Matthew, but clearly, we are getting old.”

Matthew looked into the hazel eyes of his wife, her lovely face framed with the same honey-colored hair that his only daughter possessed.  He didn’t notice the faint lines around those eyes and didn’t care that monthly visits to a hairdresser were responsible for maintaining the shining tresses.  He only saw the girl he married some twenty seven years ago.  “You look exactly the same as you did the night I persuaded you to sneak out of that snooty all girl’s school you were stuck at,” he said with a grin.

Madeleine laughed.  “Oh God, I remember that; it was 30 years ago, it was 1970 and we went and saw...oh what was the name of that group?”

“Buffalo Springfield.  They were Win’s favorite, remember?”

Madeleine nodded.  “That’s right,” she said, remembering an enthusiastic redheaded man and his shy blonde girlfriend, the four of them lustily singing there’s something happening here/what it is ain’t exactly clear/there’s a man with a gun over there/a-telling me I’ve got to beware/I think it’s time we stop, children, what’s that sound/everybody look what’s goin’ down.... and feeling like they’d be young forever.

It was hard to think that they were both long gone, and yet, if they weren’t, she wouldn’t have the son she loved so much.  She shook her head; life is strange and trying to figure out why things happen the way they do can only give you a headache.  “That was some night.”

Matthew’s eyes had gone soft as he was filled with his own memories of that time.  “It sure was, baby doll.  It sure was.”

***

“One of you come and get us if they give you any trouble,” Diana said to her younger sisters.  Robin and Donna, age 16, had been hired by the Wheelers as the evening’s official babysitters.

Each sister held a nephew in her arms.  “You’re not going to give your auntie Robin any trouble, are you sweetie pie?” Robin crooned, placing several kisses on David’s curly head as he chortled happily.

“You better not,” Donna echoed, raising and lowering Peter over her head as he shrieked with laughter.

“Just bash ‘em on the head if they’re bad; don’t interrupt us,” Mart quipped before planting kisses on each of his son’s plump cheeks.

“Sounds like a text book parenting technique to me,” Jim said as he and Trixie entered the room, catching Mart’s remark.  Katy started squirming as soon as she saw her aunt Diana so he handed the little girl over to her.  “Got roped in, huh girls?” he said to the twins.  The large family room on the second floor was designated the ‘kid’s room’ for the evening so that the parents could enjoy the party.

“Your dad’s paying us a mint.  AND...” this was the part that clinched the deal for both girls, “we get to have champagne at midnight with everybody!” Donna crowed.

“That sounds fair enough,” Trixie said, smiling at the two girls.  It was hard to believe that the adorable three year olds she remembered so well were now adolescents.  She turned to her sister-in-law who was looking absolutely stunning in a dark purple dress.  “Honestly, where does the time go?” she marveled, tilting her head at the twin girls.  It seemed like only yesterday she and Diana were giggling in her bedroom, wondering what their grown up lives would be like, each young woman braiding one of the twin’s long black hair.

“I know what you mean,” she responded, setting Katy down so she could play with her cousins.  “Can you believe that New Year’s we spent at Uncle Monty’s ranch was 13 years ago?”

“That’s enough out of you two,” Jim admonished.  “This is a party, not old home week!”

“My esteemed brother-in-law is correct; let the revels begin!” Mart added, grabbing his wife and dipping her dramatically.  “Me, me!” Katy begged, giggling when her Uncle picked her up and dangled her upside down for a moment before gently setting her back on her feet.

“And yet, my brother hasn’t aged a day!” Trixie quipped, laughing when he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue at her.  She knelt down and hugged her daughter.  “You be good and listen to your aunties, okay? Go to bed when they tell you to.”

“Okay,” she said agreeably before whispering in her mother’s ear, “but what if I’m not tired?”

Trixie laughed and kissed her rosy cheek.  “Oh you will be.  It’s already an hour past your bedtime as it is.  And we’ll be back to kiss you goodnight.”

“Same with theirs.  They’re going to be two grumps tomorrow,” Diana sighed, casting an eye on her sons who were merrily romping through the large room.  She noticed there was a complete absence of breakable items and silently sighed with relief. 

“Katy probably will be too.  But,” she grinned at Jim who laughed, “we’ll be spending the next couple of days living it up in the big apple, staying at The Plaza.  So darn the luck, we’ll just have to miss it!”  She pitched her voice so only Jim heard it.  “There’s an elevator with our name on it just waiting for us,” she whispered suggestively as he slid his arms around her waist.

“That’s right; I’d almost forgotten you were going.” Diana smiled, her violet eyes lit up with mischief.  Besides Jim, she was the only person in the room who understood the significance of Jim, Trixie, New Year’s Eve and The Plaza in New York City.  But she knew how to keep a secret.  “Are you going to have fun with your grandparents?” she asked Katy, who smiled and nodded.

“Yep.  Grandpa’s going to take me riding in the woods and everything!” the little girl enthused.

They left the children in their aunts’ capable hands and went downstairs, looking forward to the official start of the twenty-first century.

***

As a reward for excellent performance, some of the older boys from Jim’s school were invited to the party, smugly sorry for their fellow classmates who, no doubt, would already be asleep when the year 2001 rang in.  Neil and Ashton were two of them and stood together talking, stuffing their faces with the fancy hor d’oeurves that seemed never ending.

“So what’s the deal.  You staying or what?” Ashton asked, popping a crabcake in his mouth and chewing noisily before swallowed it, reaching for another.

Neil shrugged.  “I dunno.  My mom says I can do what I want,” he replied, glancing at his mother who stood talking to Bill Regan.  She was already a million miles away from the person Trixie talked to at Soundview Manor.  She was living in a nice two bedroom apartment in White Plains that Honey and Trixie had used infrequently, attending AA meetings and working at the agency as their office manager.  Classes started in a few weeks at the nearby college, where she was going to start attending classes, part time until she felt stronger.

“Well, what do you want?” Ashton asked, with 12 year old bluntness. 

Neil bit his lip.  “I don’t know.  I love it here, but part of me thinks I should be with my mom.”  He broke off and looked at the floor.  He loved his mom, more than he thought possible, but he felt at home living at Ten Acres; it was the first real security he’d ever known.  He loved his classes, and there was no way he was ever going to learn about outdoor life and horses at regular school.  He thought about his daily work with Regan, the school’s groom.  He was strict and the work was sometimes hard, but he loved it.  Regan showed him a respect and friendship he’d never dreamed was possible; between Jim, Mart and Regan his faith in male authority figures was slowly being restored.

“Just stay already.  You can still see your mom.”

“Yeah....maybe,” was all he would say.

Annabel Griffin glanced at her son, talking so seriously with his friend Ashton, and smiled.  Staying sober was the hardest thing she’d ever done, even harder than standing up to her soon to be ex husband.  He’d burst into the small room she used to live in, dragging Neil behind him, shouting about how they’d be a family again, damn it.  She’d taken one look at Neil’s raw, bruised face and the rage had filled her with an almost clean flood of feeling as she finally understood the truth of their situation.  She lifted the full bottle of vodka she swore she’d never buy again but did, smashing it over his head, holding Neil at her side as she calmly explained the situation to the two policemen who arrived shortly after.  They looked at the bruises on she and Neil’s face, one of them saying ‘good for you’ with a grim smile as he nudged the groggy man on the floor with an ungentle toe. She was sober then and had remained so ever since.  But it wasn’t easy.

“Neil loves working with you, with the horses,” she said to the red-haired groom.

“He’s a natural,” Regan mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his dress shirt and tie.  But it wasn’t only his attire that was making him uneasy.

Annabel sighed.  “Look, I know you don’t like me and you don’t think my visiting with Neil is a good idea.”  She smiled at Regan’s surprised, almost guilty look.  “You have a God awful poker face,” she said calmly.  It hurt, not being trusted, but she knew she only had herself to blame.  The important thing was to focus on the future.  And rebuilding trust was a huge part of it.

Regan’s mouth twitched in grudging acknowledgement, wondering how a person with such obvious intelligence had ever gotten into such a sorry state of affairs.  “I never play poker,” was all he said.  Neil’s visits with his mother was the first serious disagreement he’d ever had with Jim; but they’d both managed to keep their famous tempers under control at least.

“Was it your mother or your father?” Annabel asked.

“What?”

Annabel set her soda down and faced Regan squarely.  “Was it your mother or your father who was the drunk?”

Regan stared at her for a moment.  “My father,” he finally admitted.  Regan had a hard fast rule that the past stay in the past.  Trouble was, his feelings didn’t always follow it.

Annabel held up her hand.  “You don’t need to say any more.  You don’t need to tell me that your father mistreated the family, constantly broke promises and never managed to get sober, even though he’d promise it, oh so sincerely.”  Her voice was full of pain.  “When I was drinking I didn’t even know where Neil was half the time.  I wouldn’t remember to buy food, let alone cook it.  I let him down in a way he may never recover from.”  She took a deep breath.  “I don’t expect anybody to forget that.  I’m not going to.  All I have is today.  I’m sober today.  And if being away from me is what’s best for Neil, even though being without him is the worst feeling in the world, that’s how it’s going to be.”  She held out her hand.  “I appreciate everything you’re doing for my son.  And I thank you.”

Regan only hesitated for a moment before shaking her hand.  “He’s a great kid.  It’s been my pleasure,” he finally said.  He wasn’t ready to trust this woman—the destructive effects of alcohol were too well known to him, his own family completely destroyed by them.  But he also knew the power of second chances and was willing to at least try.  After all, where would he be today if Mr. Wheeler hadn’t hired him all those years ago—a broke kid with a mysterious past, who was great with horses, but whose worldly possessions all fit in the dusty duffel bag he carried?

***

Meggie and Andy could hardly believe their surroundings—Manor House had to be the most beautiful place they’d ever been in, the music was incredible and the food was a million times better than the take out pizza and tortilla chips that were generally the only form of nutrition at their friends’ parties.

“I can’t believe we’re really here,” she said as they danced together.  Andy looked so cute in his dad’s tuxedo, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him.

“This is pretty cool,” he agreed, trying out the dip his dad had showed him earlier as Meggie let out a squeal.

“Next time, give me some warning!” she said breathlessly, but her eyes were dancing.  She felt like she was in a romantic comedy from the thirties.

“Okay.  I’m going to kiss you now,” he said solemnly before leaning in.

“Not in front of so many people,” she murmured, her face turning pink.

Andy grinned; she dove into situations that would make most adults pause, and yet she had a shy side that was so completely endearing it made his heart catch every time.  “It’s New Year’s Eve darlin’.  Look around—everybody’s either kissing somebody or just about to kiss somebody!”

She glanced around and had to admit he had a point.  She’d never seen so many happy people in one place.  Her gaze fell on her parents, dancing across the room and she began to laugh; they were making out like a couple of teenagers!  Just like them...

“All right, kiss away.  But no groping!”

***

“This band is great,” Joeanne said enthusiastically as she and Dan swayed to the music.  Mr. Wheeler had hired a full big band orchestra who were in the middle of playing an old Billie Holliday tune.

Them that’s got shall have

them that’s not shall lose

so the bible says

and it still is news

mama may have, papa may have

but God bless the child  that’s got his own, that’s got his own  

Yes the strong get s’more  

while the weak ones fade

empty pockets don’t ever make the grade

mama may have, papa may have

but God bless the child that’s got his own, that’s got his own

“Yeah.  Mr. and Mrs. W. know how to throw a party, that’s for sure,” he said, holding her close and breathing in the light scent of her perfume.  “But damn, this has GOT to be one of the most depressing songs I have ever heard.”

“You’re a good dancer.  I might have known,” Joeanne murmured, closing her eyes as the music became a part of her.

“Arthur Murray, ten E Z lessons,” Dan quipped.  “And what do you mean ‘you might have known’?”

But Joeanne wouldn’t answer him, merely turning red.

Dan was silent for a beat before understanding filled him and he laughed.  “And I thought you were a nice girl!” he said teasingly, brushing her cheek with his.  “Even if you are a meddler.  I mean let’s face it, you put Trixie to shame!”

Joeanne pulled back and looked at him askance.  “I thought you were glad I...” The rest of her words were cut off as Dan kissed her.

“I’m just kidding, honey.  Did anybody ever tell you you’re too serious?”

Joeanne’s face fell before she could stop it.  “Yes,” she said softly.

Dan understood and his face darkened.  “Well, I happen to like a girl who has a serious side.  In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit on the intense side myself.”

Joeanne laughed ruefully.  “Why no, I hadn’t noticed at all!”  He’d kept his word and stayed away from Richard, but since she never mentioned the telephone, he found his number, called him and in the deadliest tone of voice, informed him that if he ever came near Joeanne again, he was going to remove his spleen and shove it up his left nostril.  They hadn’t seen or heard from him since.  And Dan’s black moods were something she was starting to get used to.  But they never lasted long, and she was usually able to snap him out of them pretty quickly.  The song ended and they drifted towards the buffet table.

“Dan, seriously.  You aren’t mad that I sent those tapes to her, are you?”

“For the last time, no.  I was a little upset at first because I don’t share my dad’s music with many people.  But after I thought about it for awhile, I realized I was being selfish.   After all, it was my dad’s dream to have the whole world hear his music.  And now, maybe they will.”  Joeanne had sent the tapes to one of her friends on the Tim Mangan website, knowing that she had ties to a producer in New York.  He loved the music too, and he and Dan were currently in negotiations; if all went as expected, the CD would come out in the Spring.

“Good.  The last thing I want is to hurt you,” she said sincerely.  They opened the glass sliding door that led out to the atrium, welcoming the fresh cold air after the warmth of the packed room.

“I know.  And you know the coolest part?  That my own father is helping me return to school.  The advance is more than enough to pay for the first year.  And if it takes off, there’ll be even more,” Dan said as they stepped outside.  He looked at Joeanne; she looked so beautiful in her red, glittery gown.  “And I owe it all to you.  And your crazy internet friends, I suppose!”  The look he gave her interrupted her normal blood flow, causing her to feel light headed.  They’d never discussed their relationship after she asked if he was her boyfriend and he answered yes.  She supposed somebody had to go first, but she was afraid if he didn’t feel the same she’d never survive.

“Is something wrong?” Dan continued, wondering at the look on her face.  He wondered if tonight was a good time to tell her.  He hadn’t wanted to scare her off, but there was no way he could continue unless he knew where he stood.  It was keeping him awake at night and he was starting to drive his friends crazy.

“No.  Nothing’s wrong.  Why do you ask?” she said, casually stepping back so she could lean against the door and coyly look up at him.  Only trouble was they had never closed the door, a fact Joeanne realized a moment too late.  In what felt like slow motion, she tumbled over backward, landing on the floor, her glass dumping melted ice cubes down her neck as she flashed an entire room of people, her legs flying up in the air. 

Dan knew that laughing was the very worse thing he could possibly do, so it was with great effort that he choked back the mirth bubbling in his throat.  Joeanne was such a serious, dignified person and now she was tugging down her dress, her face matching its crimson color.  “You okay?” he finally managed, approaching her, his lips twitching.

Joeanne tried to answer, but couldn’t.  Her head throbbed where it struck the floor, but she doubted it was hurt half as much as her pride.  This was the worst night of her entire life!

“Hey,” Dan said, leaning down to help her up.  “I thought I was the one falling for you.”

Joeanne wondered if the entire room could hear her heart beating as she looked up into the face of the man she loved.  Katy has the right idea, she thought, holding up her arms in silent invitation, a shy smile flitting across her face at the sudden look of understanding that was filling him.

Dan slowly helped her up, framing her face.  He looked at her seriously, the hunger in him like a live, breathing thing and no longer physical.  And if he was going to be perfectly honest with himself, it had never been only physical.

He never said it before and it took every ounce of courage he possessed to say it now.  “I love you.”

Joeanne wondered if she’d hit her head harder than she thought.  “What?”

He supposed it was an opportunity to take it back, but he didn’t want to.  “I love you,” he repeated, smiling crookedly at her.

Joeanne finally remembered to breathe in and out, her dark eyes huge and luminous.  “Oh Dan!” she said, after a long, startled moment.

“Is that ‘oh Dan, good; or ‘oh Dan, oh no?” he asked lightly, thinking kill me now, God.  Just kill me now.

“I love you too,” she said, throwing her arms around him.  This was the best night of her entire life!

***

“Those two oughtta get a room,” Honey said to her husband as she watched Dan and Joeanne kissing passionately in the doorway leading out to the atrium, her voice amused.

“And Lord knows there’s enough of them in this place,” Brian joked.  He’d almost walked over to them when he saw Joeanne hit her head, but as Dan seemed to have the matter in hand, he elected to stay put.  “Maybe we should find one ourselves,” he said in an exaggerated voice, waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he took in the lush sight of his wife.  Clearly, pregnancy agreed with her—her hair had never been shinier, her face was glowing and the curvy swell of her stomach was undeniably alluring.

Honey linked her hands behind his neck.  “You of all people should know better than to solicit a woman in her second trimester,” she purred before plastering a sultry kiss on him.  “Ick factor aside,” her best friend Trixie had told her, “that was some of the best sex Jim and I ever had!” and Honey was certainly finding this to be true, as she found herself constantly craving what had gotten her in that condition to begin with.

Brian glanced at the large clock in the room.  “It’s almost midnight—let’s ring in the new year with a bang!”

Honey let out a theatrical groan.  “That is the oldest cliché in the book.”  She kissed him again, letting her tongue twine with his until he thought his heart would explode.  “But I’m up for it.”

“What goes up, must come down,” Brian said, his usually serious expression so lascivious that she began giggling helplessly.

“Shhh! Your Dad’s making a toast,” he admonished, waving a stern finger in her face and grinning at her when she bit it.

“Everybody!  I want to thank you all for coming to our party,” Matthew Wheeler began, his wife at his side.  He smiled as everybody cheered in appreciation.  He lifted his glass and everybody followed suit.  “Friends, family; I wish you a healthy, happy and prosperous new year.  May the saddest days of your future be no worse than the happiest days of your past.”  Everybody clinked their glasses with the people nearest to them and drank.  “And...”

“Oh Matthew, let the people party!” his wife admonished, kissing his cheek as everybody laughed.

“I just wanted to add, happy anniversary Jim and Trixie,” he protested, his green eyes twinkling.

“Here here!” everybody called out as Jim and Trixie smiled, a bit flustered by all the attention.  The band took the cue and began to play the song Jim had asked them earlier to play near midnight.

I could cry salty tears

where have I been all these years

little wow, tell me now

how long has this been going on?

There were chills up my spine

and some thrills I can’t define

listen sweet, I repeat

how long has this been going on?

“Remember this song?” he whispered as they began to slow dance.  They swayed to the music, hardly aware of their surroundings, Trixie blissfully certain that there couldn’t be anybody in the world who was happier than she was. Our love has no limit, our friendship no end.  She’d almost cried when she read the card Jim gave her right before they left for the party.

“Mmm hmmm,” she replied, closing her eyes as she pressed her cheek into his shoulder.  She still had the dress she wore on that other, very special, New Year’s Eve.  It was something she’d never give up.  “How could I forget?” she said in that certain tone that never failed to arouse him.  She smiled when he pulled her closer, feeling her own body quicken in response.  Suddenly, she had her doubts as to making it to the Plaza!

They danced for awhile longer before Trixie murmured, “I heard from Donald Lewis today.”

“Really?  How’s he doing?”

“Better.  He’s let a lot go in the past month and a half.” They found out after the trial that Mr. Lewis had always thought that he was the cause of  his daughter’s death.  He’d fallen asleep while watching her on that fateful day, finding her in the same condition that Meggie found Sammy when he awakened and went in to check on her.  The guilt and sorrow completely overwhelming him, he’d let Deborah Lewis leave him without a protest, figuring that she’d be better off without a stupid, careless person such as himself.

“Sammy’s doing great.  He says you can’t even tell he was ever sick,” Trixie went on happily.  And now they can take care of each other.  No wonder Mr. Lewis was so mean when Dan and I visited him that time!  God bless them both, she thought fervently.

“That’s great.  Sammy’s such a cute little guy.  You know, I’m really glad for Mr. Lewis, but to be perfectly honest, I would have liked to have adopted Sammy myself.”  Jim’s wistful voice broke through her reverie and Trixie smiled, figuring there was no time like the present.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said carelessly.

Jim stopped dancing, looking down at her in surprise.  “What do you mean?  You’re crazy about that kid.”

Trixie smiled and nodded.  “I am.  But you know…” her voice was warm with a mixture of mischief and joy, “we’re going to have our hands full in seven and a half months as it is...”

Neil laughed at Ashton who was curled up on the sofa by the fireplace, food crumbs all around his mouth, snoring contentedly.  He was so sure he’d make it to the new year and now he was going to miss it.  Boy, he was never going to let him hear the end of it.  Because, he, Neil, was going to be there when he woke up. 

He loved his mother dearly, but the quietly adult part of his brain knew that time apart was what they both needed.  She needed the space to make a new life for herself, a life that was strong enough to have him in it for good.  And he needed what Jim, Trixie and everybody else associated with Ten Acres had to offer.

“Happy New Year, darling.”  His mother tentatively hugged him, tightening her arms around him when he hugged her back with young boy zeal.

“Happy New Year, Mom!” he responded, thinking that for the first time in his life, it really was.

His eyes roamed the crowded room until he found them, smiling at the sight of Jim and Trixie locked in a loving embrace, her feet dangling off the ground as the balloons falling from the ceiling bounced gently off them, everybody roaring, “Happy New Year!”  

He grinned as Jim swung Trixie around and around and around; thinking that apparently, happiness is contagious.  That having something to lose isn’t the end of the world, it’s only the beginning.  Deciding to stay.

The End

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