God Bless the Child

Chapter 6

Trixie smiled at the mess that was Joeanne Darnell’s office.  A girl after my own heart! she thought happily.  “Gleeps, Joeanne—this place is almost as bad as mine!” she said, shifting some books to the floor so she could plop down in one of the chairs.  Honey and Dan, seeing that Joeanne didn’t seem to mind, followed suit.

“Uh, I’m still moving in,” Joeanne started defensively, then laughed.  “Aw what the hell.  It’s probably never going to get much better than this.”  Actually, when she had time it would be so organized even the Flylady would swoon, but she wasn't about to go into her neatnik tendencies when they had so many more important things to discuss.

“Joeanne, this is Dan Mangan,” Honey said, privately wondering how Joeanne ever intended on getting anything accomplished in this chaos.   “Dan, you remember Joeanne—she was at Jim and Trixie’s wedding.”  Her social duty completed, she sank in her now empty chair.

“Sure,” Dan replied easily.  “It’s been awhile though.  Almost five years, right?” he said, his voice suddenly surprised at the realization of the passing of time.

“That’s right,” Joeanne replied.  “I was eighteen years old the last time you saw me.”

And skinny, quiet and shy, Dan remembered silently.  She looked stylish and pretty in a plum-colored pantsuit, the overhead lights shining in her dark hair. “It’s good to see you again,” he said, offering his hand for her to shake.  Her handshake was nice—Dan hated it when people only gave their fingers, their hand feeling like a limp fish.  Joeanne’s hand was smooth and warm, her thumb resting on the back of his hand almost like a caress. 

“It’s nice to see you too.”  She smiled at everybody quickly.  “I’ll be right back,” she said abruptly, leaving the office.  She walked down the hall and turned left, entering the bathroom quickly, locking the door behind her.  She looked in the mirror and began to speak, quietly and firmly.  “You have no time for him.  You hear me?  Anything that breaks into your concentration, even a little bit, is not good.”  Man he’s gorgeous; I could get lost in those eyes… “You have no time for him,” she repeated sternly.  “Anything that shifts your focus could cost Sammy his life.  And anyway, you’re lousy at it.  Lousy.  You do NOT want to go through that crap again!”  She gave her reflection one last look and opened the door just as one of her fellow attorneys tugged at it, ignoring her expression of confusion as she strode away, her face growing warm.

“Sorry,” she said as she re-entered her office.  She sat behind her desk in what she hoped was a professional, completely in control way, her heart doing strange things in her chest.  Simma down nah! The Saturday Night Live skit jumped into her conscious and she bit back a laugh, not wanting to appear any more crazy than she already did.  “So, um…do you work for the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency too?”  She looked at Dan and looked quickly away.  Great, now I’m acting just like an eighth grader.  Or at least how I remember other eighth graders acting.  She herself had been only eleven years old at the time, and remembered feeling hopelessly out of place among all the thirteen and fourteen year olds.

“You could say that,” Dan replied, trying not to stare at her in an obvious way.  She had an alert, intelligent air about her that he found incredibly appealing, not to mention darkly exotic eyes that held a hint of sadness in their depths.  He found himself wishing that there was something he could do to get rid of that expression, surprised at himself.

“I recruited him—he’s an out of work bum now with nothing to do, so naturally I hired him!” Trixie said with a laugh.  What they had to talk about was so serious, she felt like she’d explode unless she kept her sense of humor afloat.  She ducked as Dan reached over to flick her.

Joeanne looked at Dan, a sudden grin lighting up the elfin lines of her face before she could stop it.  “I say we take her out back and kick the…well, maybe later,” she finished, flipping open her leather notebook as Dan laughed appreciatively.

Honey pulled her notebook out of her purse and began relaying her conversation with Deborah Lewis.  Her normally gentle eyes grew angry as she spoke, weaving a tapestry of self-righteousness with an ugly medical history.  “I’m not a psychologist, but I learned quite a bit about Munchausen from one of my professors.  And this woman…” Honey stopped, composing herself before continuing.  “As far as she’s concerned, every second her baby spends apart from her is causing permanent damage.  Joeanne, Trixie and I are the enemies who are keeping them apart and we deserve whatever happens to us.”

Trixie and Joeanne gasped as Dan stiffened.  “Are you serious? She actually said that?” Trixie said, her blue eyes troubled.

Honey nodded.  “Pretty much.  Said she figured we were working with ‘that black hearted bitch’, and if we thought she was just going to sit back and let us take away her only reason for living, then we were stupider than she thought.”  She shook her head in disgust.  “That’s when I really knew.  An ‘us against the world’ mentality is very common in these cases.  Plus, it really bothered me how she never referred to Sammy by his name.  It was always ‘my child’, ‘my son’; almost like he was her prized possession.” Honey was angrier than Trixie and Dan could ever remember her being.

“Oh man,” Dan moaned.  Trixie had briefed him on the way over, but this was even worse than he’d thought it would be.  He was doubly glad that Trixie had asked him to help—he was no Jim, but he worried about Trixie and Honey’s safety sometimes too.  This could get very, very ugly.  He found to his surprise that he was equally worried about Joeanne as well, even though he hardly knew her.  He gave her a quick glance, noticing that she quickly looked down at her notebook as he did so.

“Greeeeat,” Trixie put in, sarcasm dripping from her tone.  She suddenly itched to lay some of her Tai Kwon Do moves on a certain Mrs. Lewis.

“Black hearted bitch—that’s a new one.”  Joeanne’s voice was steely, but her eyes were troubled.  She glanced down at her notes.  “Trix?”  Her pen was poised and ready. The three of them listened as Trixie poured out everything the nurse had told her, glancing at her notebook from time to time, wanting to get the medical information right.  She finally finished and waited quietly as Joeanne took furious notes, her pen making scratchy sounds as she wrote.  She finally laid down the pen and looked up.

“This is really going to help me with my cross examination of Mrs. Lewis.  My God, that woman is something else.”  She could hear the anger in her voice and took a deep breath.

Trixie and Honey glanced at one another.  “Joeanne, are you okay?” Honey asked in her gentle way.  I could ask the same of you! Trixie thought suddenly.  She could feel a headache starting to form behind her eyes.

Joeanne smiled weakly.  “I’m fine.  It’s just…this case is so important.  I want to be ready.”

“Well, like the song says, ‘we’ve only just begun’,” Trixie sang, her voice mockingly sweet.

“Arghh…please no insipid pop music before lunch!” Joeanne winced, but her smile finally reached her eyes.  She was so young and new; although nobody had mistreated her at the Attorney General’s Office, she knew they were still in that ‘wait and see’ mode where she was concerned.  “I’m so glad you guys are here,” she said simply.

“So are we,” Honey responded.

“Anything for a fellow jazz fan,” Trixie added, knowing that would interest Dan, who also had a great love for jazz.  He, along with her brother Mart, was usually her companion to jazz events, as Jim couldn’t stand it.

“All right! Another member of the musically elite,” Dan said approvingly.  Now he knew for sure he liked her, and wondered why the thought was a little scary.  To distract himself, he patted Honey’s head saying condescendingly.  “Someday, little one!”

Honey mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “Shut up pretentious swine”.

“And you’re in luck, because Trix and I have an extra ticket for Peter White tomorrow night,” Dan added.  Did I just say that? 

“We do?” Trixie blurted.

“Yeah…Uh, Mart can’t come after all.  Something came up.” Dan couldn’t believe what was coming out of his mouth.  There was something about this woman that was making him…he tried to assign what he was feeling a word, and finally came up with goofy.  At the age of 27, he could honestly say that nobody had ever made him feel goofy in his life.  He wasn’t sure if he liked it—it made him feel off balance and vulnerable, two feelings he was not well acquainted with.   Or at least, not anymore.

“Ohhhh, that’s so tempting.  I love Peter White.” Joeanne’s voice was full of longing.

“C’mon, Joeanne.  You can’t work all day and all night.”  Trixie’s voice was coaxing. 

Thanks, Trix! Oh, man…

“Well…” Joeanne’s voice was weakening.  In the end, she found herself agreeing, ignoring the little warning voice telling her not to.  And when she found herself alone, after they had brainstormed strategy for over an hour, she was surprised to find that she was something she hadn’t been in a long time.  She was happy.

***

“I didn’t know Mart wasn’t going,” Trixie commented as she, Honey and Dan left the Attorney General’s Office.  They entered the underground parking garage, heading for Honey’s BMW.

Dan started laughing.  “Neither does he!”  He still felt a bit light headed.

Trixie and Honey stopped walking.  “You sly dog!” Trixie said, a grin appearing on her face.  “Mart is going to kill you.”

“Devious Dan,” Honey added with a smile.  She linked arms with him, saying with a laugh “you better go easy on her, or I’ll get to you before Mart does!”

“Mart’ll get over it.  And Honey, I’m shocked, shocked at your attitude.”  Worries about his future seemed to temporarily slip away as Dan abandoned himself to the moment.

“Look at you, you’re all happy!  What’s going on?” Trixie cried as they got into the car.

“Are you implying that I’m usually unhappy?” Dan demanded cheerfully as he administered a noogie from the backseat.

“Honestly, you two! I’m trying to drive!” Honey protested with a grin as they began to scuffle.  “And Dan, fasten your seatbelt.”

“Yes, mommy!” Dan responded, obeying her command and leaning back against the seat.  He couldn’t see Honey’s expression, but Trixie could.

“Honey, I just can’t stand it another second.  Puh-leeze tell me what has been bothering you,” she begged.

Honey looked momentarily startled, then sighed inwardly.  As if I could ever keep anything hidden from her.

“What’s up?” Dan asked, the concern evident in his voice.  Honey felt tears fill her eyes and forced them back.

“Nothing.  Everything.  I don’t know,” Honey said, feeling like a fool.

“This case?” Trixie asked.

“No, although I have to admit it’s not helping.”

“Honey, you don’t have to do this.”

“Trix, I want to.  Do you really think I’d turn my back on that little boy after what I know?” Honey stared straight ahead, her hands tight on the wheel.

“I don’t think she meant that,” Dan interjected quietly.

Honey knew she was being unreasonable, but couldn’t seem to stop the flow of words.  “Just leave me alone, okay? We’ve got a lot of people to interview, and I don’t need the third degree!”  She bit her lip, turning on the wipers as a light rain began to patter, the weak sun disappearing behind the rain-swollen clouds.  She braced herself for Trixie’s angry retort, stealing a sideways glance when only silence greeted her, the dispirited expression on Trixie’s face instantly dissolving her momentary anger.  “I’m sorry—I know you guys are just worried about me. I don’t know what got into me.”

Trixie patted her leg.  “I think you just channeled the last really bad fight me and Jim had.  Although my words were something along the lines of ‘what is this, the Spanish Inquisition?’”  She grinned at her best friend.  “My, that red-headed man has got a temper!”

Honey smiled.  “Which is your way of telling me you forgive me for acting like a total…”

“Hey, if you can’t by psycho with your friends, what’s the point of having ‘em?” Dan interjected.  He leaned forward.  “We’re here when you’re ready.  And if it isn’t soon, we’ll just piss you off again!”

Honey laughed.  “I’m sure you will.”  She sighed, adding, “I don’t want to go into it because I need to work it out myself.  And being the fine young detectives you are, I’ll just leave it at that.”

“Do I need to kick Brian’s ass?” Dan asked.

Trixie let out a short laugh.  “How come you never make that offer to Jim and Brian?  I know it’s hard to believe, but sometimes it’s actually our fault!”

Honey and Trixie couldn’t help laughing at Dan’s reply of “They don’t smell as nice as you.”

“I think the three of us are going to make a good team,” Honey commented.  She pulled into her customary parking place at their office.  “Are you sure you don’t want us to change the name to ‘Belden-Wheeler-Mangan’?”

Dan was thoughtful as they dashed out of the car, the rain coming down harder.  Trixie got the door opened and they made their way inside.  “I don’t have clue one about what I’m going to do next, but I’m always willing to help you guys.  Consider me an independent contractor, okay?”

Trixie gasped.  “Damn, that reminds me—I forgot to tell Joeanne about our other allies.  Remember those two girls that helped me out during the whole Mrs. Waters nightmare?  They volunteer at the hospital twice a week.” Thanks to email, she had kept in sporadic touch with them over the years.

“You mean Meggie and Sarah?” Honey asked, remembering the two young girls who had found Trixie tied up in an old hunting cabin.  “I don’t know…it might be dangerous.”

“I ran into them in the cafeteria.  I gave them my extra cell phone and asked them to call me if they saw anything that looked remotely suspicious.”  At Honey’s doubtful look, she added, “I specifically told them not to do anything by themselves, or to get involved.”  She sank down in front of her desk and logged onto her computer in one motion.

Dan and Honey couldn’t help it—they laughed until they cried.  “Like that ever worked with you,” Dan finally managed to gasp as Honey made strange puffing noises.

Trixie began to protest, but it only made them laugh harder.  “All right, you may have a point.  But they’re seniors in high school now, and they plan on studying Criminology in college.  Can’t we just call this an internship?  Besides, Sammy needs all the help he can get,” she reminded them.

Honey sobered instantly.  “Yes he does.  And I suppose it would be a good learning experience for them, provided they don’t take any unnecessary risks.”  She sat at her own desk, glancing at the picture of her and Brian and looking away.

“That’s exactly what Meggie’s boyfriend said.  Poor girl!” Trixie’s eyes were sparkling.  She could certainly relate to that particular lecture.  “I’ll bet she was sorry she agreed to have dinner with him.”

“Well, I don’t suppose there’s much risk in them giving us a phone call,” Dan mused.  He paced in front of their desks, too restless to sit down.

After much discussion, it was decided that the girls would be allowed to help.  They poured over the list they had come up with in Joeanne’s office and divided the work three ways, agreeing to meet again in a few days to go over what they had found.

“Of course, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow,” Trixie said to Dan.  “Unless you’d rather Mart go and I turn out to be the one who couldn’t make it?”

“I think she’d be more comfortable if you were there too.  I was picking up some weird vibes.”

“Then why’d you do it?” Trixie asked bluntly.

Dan shrugged, looking honestly puzzled.  “I don’t know,” he admitted.  “It just…seemed like the right thing to do.”  Because I want to spend some time with her that doesn’t involve her work. Because I had the feeling that she was trying not to be attracted to me and it wasn’t working! “She seemed…sad.”

Trixie was surprised for only a moment before remembering that Dan had always been very good at quiet observation.  He could read people, sometimes too well, she thought ruefully.  “And you felt sorry for her?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Not exactly,” was all Dan would say.

“You like her,” Trixie said in a lilting voice, her face brightening.

“So what if I do?” Dan said, inwardly wincing at the childishness of his reply.  Then he grinned, remembering who he was talking to.

“Dan likes Joeanne! Dan likes Joeanne!” Trixie and Honey chanted together.

Dan smiled mysteriously, but his built in warning device that guarded his carefully constructed rules of behavior gave him a nudge.  He didn’t like being tied down, preferring to keep his romantic life simple and uncomplicated.  Like most individuals who have excellent powers of observation, when it came to his own life, it was a different story.  He never realized that he inevitably chose women he could never get serious with—women who were interested in nothing more than a good time with a good looking guy. He would be surprised to know that he operated under the assumption that if you don’t care too much, you won’t get hurt.

As always in moments of personal confusion, he resorted to humor.  “Real mature, guys.”  Dan shook his head in mock disappointment.  “I try and cheer up a friend of yours, and all I get is grief!”

Trixie looked at him sharply, but said nothing.  Hmmm…somehow I think there’s a lot more to it than just cheering somebody up.  This could get interesting.  She kept her thoughts to herself, deciding that, for once, she’d keep out of what was clearly none of her business, but resolving to keep her eyes open, just the same.

Chapter 7

Dr. Brian Belden barely acknowledged the doorman’s greeting as he wearily entered the Manhattan apartment building he and his wife had lived in since they were married.  Although his father-in-law wanted to give the spacious flat to the pair, Matthew Wheeler had settled for renting it to them at an under-market rate, secretly admiring Brian for his quietly respectful refusal.

The doorman stared after him with concern—the young doctor usually chatted with him for a few moments, one of the few tenants who ever bothered to do so.  He shook his head—in his 65 years he’d seen that look before, it was the look of a man who’s been to hell and wasn’t all the way back.  He sent up a little prayer to watch over his obviously troubled soul as the elevator door closed behind him.

Brian unlocked the door, tossing his keys in the general direction of the antique table he and Honey had found and restored together, shrugging out of his jacket.

“Brian, is that you?” Honey’s voice called from the direction of the living room.

“Who else would it be?” he muttered as he hung his jacket in the entryway closet.  He had the sudden childish urge to hide himself in the dark depths, allowing the cool blackness to close over him, shutting out all care and responsibility.

“Is something wrong?”  Honey’s voice was suddenly right behind him, causing him to jump slightly as he shut the door with more force than was necessary.  He looked into the worried eyes of his wife and fought the urge to throw himself into her arms.  Once he went down that road he was afraid there would be no turning back—after a day like today, there was no telling how strong his hold on sanity was.

“Brian, I wish you’d talk to me,” Honey said, laying her hand on his arm.  Her touch was so dear, so familiar.  He could feel moisture well up in his eyes, and savagely forced his emotions back under control.

“Honey, please.  I’ve had the day from…I just need to…” He seemed unable to form a coherent sentence as they walked into the living room and he sank down on the couch.  Honey stood over him uncertainly—he didn’t seem to want her around, but how could she just walk away from him when he was so obviously hurting?  She ignored the tight feeling in her chest and tried again.

“Isn’t there anything I can do?” she asked, sitting beside him, but not touching him.

“No,” he replied shortly.

“Are you hungry?”

Instead of answering, he shook his head.  Then, as if realizing how distraught Honey was becoming, he turned to her.  “But you probably are.  Let’s go to Bella Mia’s and you can get some of that angel hair pasta you like so much.”  His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m not hungry either,” she said quietly.

Brian looked at her sharply, biting his lip at the pale look of her normally rosy face.  He put an arm around her shoulders, almost welcoming the chance to get the focus off of him.  “Did you have a hard day too?”

Honey sighed, although whether it was the change of subject or because she was considering his question, he couldn’t tell.  “This case we’re on sickens me, Brian.  It just really, really sickens me.”  She pressed closer, hoping that physical closeness would lead to the mental closeness she so desperately needed from him.  If he didn’t share what was bothering him, if he continued to be closed to her, how could their marriage stand a chance?

Brian nodded sympathetically.  “It’s never easy dealing with the reality that there are people out there who are capable of child abuse.  We get kids in all the time who are victims of their parents’ misplaced anger.” He gave Honey a crooked smile.  “Then I hang around Jim and Trixie, or Mart and Diana and get to see the other side of the spectrum, thank god.”

The longing welled up in her so strongly, that she thought it would consume her.  She was unable to halt the tide of words that burst from her.  “Oh Brian, I know what you mean.  I love being around Katy, Peter and David.  They mean so much to me, and I can’t help thinking about what it will be like when we…”

“We’re not having that conversation again, are we?” Brian asked sharply.  He felt overwhelmed with everything he had been thinking about for the past few months.  Combined with what happened today, he didn’t think he could bear it, feeling as if he would fly apart.  Honey’s face became even paler, and it was as if a knife had entered his chest and twisted.  He suddenly realized how he must have sounded.  I’m behaving like such an asshole.  There’s no way she could know how painful this conversation is because I haven’t been able to tell her…

“We have to have this conversation, Brian Belden!  Why do you keep avoiding talking about us starting a family?  Why are you shutting me out like this?”  Honey’s chest was heaving as she practically wailed the words aloud.  A small part of her was aware that she was becoming hysterical, but there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it.  She had spent a mostly unproductive day talking to Mrs. Lewis’s divorce lawyer, then her former landlord and was worried that if she didn’t find enough information for Joeanne, Sammy would end up back with a mother who seemed bent on his destruction.  And now this…

She took a deep breath, visibly calming herself.  “I’m sorry if I yelled, but Brian, I thought you wanted the same things I wanted.” 

“I don’t know if I do anymore,” he said, his voice so quiet she had to strain to hear him.

“I can’t believe you’re saying that. You’ve obviously had a horrible day, and…” She looked at him sadly, her smile watery.  “Gosh, can you believe Katy is three years old already?  And Peter and David…”

“This isn’t a competition,” Brian snapped, immediately wishing he could take the words back.

Honey went very still, feeling as if a malevolent force had sucked every last particle of air in her body out. She rose to her feet and left the room without saying a word.

Oh God, that was bad.  That was very, very bad, Brian thought, deeply ashamed.  An overwhelming fatigue filled him and he lowered his face in his hands, wondering what in the hell he was going to do.  He couldn’t talk about the darkness that was looming into every corner of his being; how could he?  He knew once she knew what he was thinking, she’d be devastated.  She may even hate him.  And Brian didn’t know if he’d be able to live if that happened.  He scrubbed his face wearily, letting out a groan.  Things couldn’t get any worse.

Honey walked back into the room, silently stepping by him as she headed for the front door, a small suitcase in her hand.

“Honey…” Brian’s voice was hoarse as his brain registered the unthinkable.  He stumbled to his feet, catching up with her as she touched the doorknob.

Honey paused, looking over her shoulder, her face so shattered he lost his breath.  “You break my heart,” she whispered as she left the apartment, the soft click of the door closing resonating through Brian’s very soul as she left him all alone.

***

Trixie slowly opened her eyes.  Yes, there it was again, a very light tapping coming from downstairs.  A burglar wouldn’t knock! she thought as she carefully slid out of bed and padded downstairs, yawning broadly.  Her heart picked up speed as she suddenly wondered if it was Dan, and that Mr. Maypenny was sick.  Don’t be stupid—he’s had a phone for ages, she admonished herself as she cautiously opened the door. 

“Honey!” she gasped, noting the red, watery eyes and the suitcase all in one moment.  She stood back so her best friend could enter, shutting the door softly.

“I’ve left him,” she said, setting down the suitcase and bursting into tears.

“Oh Honey,” was all she could think to say as she put her arms around her, rocking her as she would Katy, not knowing what else to do.  She led her over to the couch and sat her down, patting her back.  She instinctively knew not to ask any questions.

Honey finally stopped crying and straightened up.  “I’m sorry…I know it’s late,” she said softly.

Trixie waved a hand.  “I don’t care about that, silly.”  She handed Honey a wad of Kleenex, silent as the distraught woman blew her nose.

“I thought about going to Mart and Diana’s—I guess it would have made more sense since we both live in the city, but…” Honey’s voice choked and she swiped her eyes with the balled up tissue.  “You and Jim are the most important people in my life,” Honey whispered.  Besides Brian…she covered her eyes as the tears started up again.

“Dang it woman, now you’ve got me going,” Trixie exclaimed as she felt telltale moisture fill her own eyes.

Honey let out a little laugh.  “Is there ever going to come a time when you don’t hate crying?” she asked, blowing her nose again.

Trixie smiled ruefully.  “Probably not.”  The two sat in silence for a moment, jumping a little as the heater came on with a whoosh.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” Honey said abruptly.

“Nope,” Trixie said flatly.  At Honey’s surprised look she added gently, “There’s plenty of time for that, and you’re not up to it right now.”  As Honey looked at her gratefully, she added, “Why don’t you go to bed and try and get some rest?  The guest room’s all yours, for as long as you need it.”  For the first time she wondered about Brian—he must be going insane, she thought sadly.  She pushed the thought aside, helping Honey to her feet.  “C’mon,” she said, leading her to the downstairs master bedroom.  Her family always had a nice guestroom set up at Crabapple Farm, and she and Jim decided to continue the tradition when they had this house built.  It even had its own fireplace, as did their room upstairs.

She pulled back the down comforter and grinned at her sister-in-law as she got into the large bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, too tired to even bother changing into her pajamas.  “Katy likes Beatle songs—do you have any preference?”

Honey smiled.  “Goodnight Trix.  And thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.  ‘Night,” Trixie replied, closing the door gently behind her.  Her steps were slow as she made her way upstairs, her mind in turmoil.  She thought about Honey and she thought about the big brother she practically worshipped and she didn’t know what to do. 

She walked softly into Katy’s room, but luckily she was still fast asleep, her face buried in the stuffed pony Regan had given her for her third birthday.  She re-tucked the covers around her, brushing the side of her forehead with a soft kiss before she returned to her own room.

She crawled back under the covers, deeply troubled.  She couldn’t imagine Brian and Honey apart—it made about as much sense as Brian going off and becoming a Hare Krishna.  In spite of her worry she almost giggled at the thought of her sensible older brother shaving his head and dancing at airports.

“Am I dreaming or did I hear my sister’s voice downstairs?” Jim asked sleepily, a huge yawn almost cracking his jaw in two.

“Honey’s left Brian,” she said flatly.

“What?!” The sleepy tone fled his voice as he turned onto his side, facing her.  This was huge.  In a million years he would never have imagined such a thing coming to pass.   It was as unlikely as…he suddenly felt a chill descend from his chest into his belly.  If this could happen, anything, no matter how unthinkable, was possible. 

“Well, that’s what she claims.  Translation, they had a big fight.”  Trixie’s voice was aggrieved.  “It must have been a doozy for her to take off like that.”  Concern for her best friend and love for her brother were clearly battling for position.

He pushed the hair out of her face in a caressing gesture.  “Don’t get in the middle; they have to work it out for themselves.”  He spoke as if trying to convince himself as well.

“I know,” she sighed.

“Taking sides will only make it worse.”

“I know,” she repeated, a slight edge to her voice.

“Sorry.”

They were both silent while they thought about Brian and Honey.  Trixie’s heart ached at the thought of them breaking up. 

“Hey…” Jim’s voice came whispering over to her in the darkness.

“Hmmm?”

“If I tick you off, I’d rather you slug me one.”  Trixie recognized the carefully neutral tone for what it was and felt a rush of love for the man lying beside her.

“But baby, you’d be black and blue,” she joked, scooting closer, playfully tangling her legs with his.  You’ve got nothing to worry about—I wouldn’t last five minutes.

“Fine.  Just don’t ever leave me,” he said, his voice no longer casual, sliding his arm under her pillow, rolling her into him.  The rational part of him knew he was being ridiculous, but the spider-webby, dinosaur section of his brain would not be silenced.

“I’m not going anywhere, silly,” she whispered, nuzzling into the side of his neck.  “And neither is Honey.  After she’s had time to cool off, I’m sure they’ll work it out.”  She pressed her face into his throat.  “And anyway, I went to a lot of trouble finding you!” She stayed close, sensing he needed it.  She’d almost drifted off to sleep when he spoke again.

“Thank you,” Jim said, kissing the top of her head.

“For what?” she replied sleepily, snuggling deeper into him, her arm sliding over his chest.

“For being…” he stopped, lacking Mart’s forte with words.  Her unconditional love was such an amazing gift—he’d observed the way other men hid their vulnerabilities, never expressing their inner demons, and knew that with Trixie, he never had to worry about reprisals, that she would never use self-doubts, or baggage from the past, as a weapon.  His mind drifted back to their wedding day—right from the very beginning of their marriage, in the limo on the way to their honeymoon, she held nothing back…

He had pulled her close, burying his face in her hair.  “I can’t believe you’re finally my wife.”

She melted against him, the feel of him a slice of heaven.  “And I can’t believe you ever doubted this day would come.  Don’t you know I’ve been completely, hopelessly, unbelievably in love with you since the day we met?  There’s never been anybody for me but you.  Never.”

He wondered if there was anybody on earth who had a more generous heart than this woman he now held.  He doubted it. “There’s never been anybody else for me either.” He gave a little laugh and held her tighter.  “When I first went away to school, and went out with those women, I actually thought something was wrong with me because I felt…nothing.  Imagine my surprise when I kissed you and felt everything!”

Trixie smiled.  “Guess you’re a one bracelet guy!”

“Why I ever thought I should go out with other people is beyond me,” he said in honest puzzlement, his mind hazy when he tried to recall his past reasoning. 

“And why I ever pulled my sleeve down to hide that bracelet is beyond me,” she said wryly.  “What a pair we were.  You’re right—I can’t believe I’m finally your wife either!”  She hit the intercom button to speak to the driver, causing Jim to laugh as she exclaimed. “Hey buddy—can’t you drive any faster?!”

“For being you,” he said at last.  Jim suddenly pictured Brian, all alone in the middle of the night, wondering if Honey’d left him for good.  “Do me a favor—tell me I’m being an idiot,” he murmured into her ear.

“Okay…you’re an idiot.”

“Tell me I have nothing to be afraid of.”

“You have nothing to fear.”

“So basically, I’m a fearful idiot,” Jim finished, but he was smiling.

Trixie smiled too and tightened her arm around him.  “My idiot,” she said, kissing him.  “It’s the quiet ones like Honey you have to watch out for.  And I’m anything but quiet.  So see—you’ve got nothing to worry about!”

Chapter 8

Honey awakened while it was still dark, automatically reaching for the warm body that was normally in bed with her before remembering. She tried to rub away the headache behind her eyes, wincing at the feeling of having slept in her clothes, slowly sitting up, the sick feeling in her stomach spreading into her legs as last night’s events played through her mind. 

Brian did not want to have children with her. 

This was all too clear, but what she wasn’t sure about was how she was going to survive this turn of events.

She had never loved anybody but Brian—unlike Trixie, she had never even dated anybody else.  She never minded, figuring it just meant they were born to be with each other.  Or so she thought…she glanced at the crystal clock on the cherrywood nightstand, 4:49 am.   Nausea rose sharply into her throat and she swung her legs onto the floor, stumbling into the bathroom, but it passed just as quickly.  She splashed her face with cold water, shivering and weak.  Wouldn’t it be the height of irony if I were pregnant? she thought savagely, but she knew she wasn’t.

She made her way into the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea, sinking down at the table with a sigh.  She smoothed the heavy oak, letting her eyes wander around the inviting room.  It was a kitchen that just begged to be cooked in, with roomy counterspace tidily strewn with evidence of frequent use, an island in the middle and a large stovetop with copper pots hung over it.

A ghost of a smile flitted across her face as she recalled the declaration Trixie had made when they were still young girls, something about either not having a kitchen at all when she was grown up, or having one that was run entirely by push buttons.  Other than the dishwasher, the kitchen she now sat in wasn’t very different from the one in Trixie’s childhood home. Funny how things change as we get older.  Trixie was the first one out of all of us to get married and the first one to…The refrigerator covered with funny magnets and childish works of art made Honey’s heart twist as she wondered if she would ever hang a drawing made by her daughter.

She spoke aloud as she hurriedly removed the kettle, not wanting to hear its obscenely cheerful whistling.  “What am I going to do, God?”

But there was no answer in the darkness before the dawn.

***

Oh man, it’s still dark, Trixie thought as she opened her eyes.  She could tell immediately that going back to sleep wasn’t an option—she was as wide-awake as one could possible be, her head feeling as if it were full of anxious bees.

She gently wriggled out of Jim’s grasp and made her way downstairs, her acute hearing picking up soft sounds from the kitchen.  “Hi there,” she said as she walked over to where Honey stood by the stove, making tea.  “I’ll take some of that too.”

“Did I wake you?” Honey asked as she took down a second cup.

Trixie sat at the table and let out a yawn.  “Nope.  Just couldn’t sleep anymore.”

“Me either.”  Honey set the cups down and joined her, the two women dunking their tea bags in comfortable silence.  It felt like old times, when they would frequently spend the night at each other’s houses.  Honey only wished the circumstances were different.

Trixie sipped her tea and studied the pale woman sitting across from her. She looks like the poster child for unhappiness, Trixie thought.  Her heart ached for her.  “Let’s go riding,” she suddenly said, feeling as if she would scream if she didn’t do something.

Honey’s eyes widened, but her smile was genuine.  “Oh Trix! That would be…yes, let’s do it!”

Trixie jumped up.  “I’ll just throw on some clothes and leave a note for Jim!”  Her voice was enthusiastic as she left the kitchen so fast the air paused before filling in the space she occupied.  And yet some things never change! Honey reflected affectionately, marveling at Trixie’s energy. 

Faster than she would have believed possible, Trixie was saddling her beloved Susie while Honey saddled a frisky young gelding mischievously named Willie by Trixie.  The two women rode in silence for some time; the sun hadn’t yet poked its way over the horizon and they stuck carefully to a well-known trail.

Honey could feel the strong muscles of the horse rippling under her thighs, and the familiar feeling of it was like a balm on her troubled soul.  She put Brian out of her mind, letting the frigid morning air and the hypnotic sound of hooves hitting earth take her over.  She glanced over at Trixie, who was wearing the same soft focus expression she imaged was on her own face. 

Trixie sensed Honey’s gaze and turned her head, smiling encouragingly at her.  “I think the sun is trying to rise,” she commented.  The gray of the surrounding trees was morphing into soft browns, a rose tinge barely discernible over the horizon.

“I love it here,” Honey said passionately.  She gently pulled Willie back when he tried to turn his canter into gallop.  “Living in New York is fun, but I really think my heart is here.”

Trixie was troubled—did she mean with or without her older brother?  She was dying to ask, but kept her mouth shut.  For once! Jim would sure be surprised. The thought made her grin to herself.

“What’s so funny?  Do you think I’ve turned back into a city girl and don’t belong out here in the woods anymore?” Honey asked mildly, wondering at the little smile tugging at her friend’s mouth.

“No way!” Trixie assured her.  She dropped Susie down to a walk to lessen the wind chill, feeling as if her nose would freeze off.  They were having an unusually cold fall that year.

Honey  matched her pace.  “It is awfully chilly,” she commented, proving to Trixie yet again that her best friend had the ability to read her mind.  “But this was just what I needed.  I’ve got a lot of people to see today,” she gave Trixie a knowing look, “and I need my head to be clear.”

“Me too.”  Trixie hesitated then plunged on.  “Honey, I’m worried that I won’t be able to do enough.  If Sammy goes back to that women, I...”

“I’ve been having the same kind of thoughts,” Honey admitted.  “I didn’t get anywhere yesterday.  We can only do our best, I guess.”

“I guess,” Trixie sighed.  Her face took on a determined expression that Honey was all too familiar with.  “After what Nurse Katje told me, there is no way I’m going to give up until I find solid evidence of what that woman is doing to poor Sammy.”

“Isn’t her testimony enough?” Honey asked, remembering with horror everything she told them in Joeanne’s office.

Trixie shook her head, her face grim.  “It’s damaging to Mrs. Lewis, but without positive evidence, it won’t be enough. 

Honey nodded in sudden understanding.  She knew from her studies that people just don’t want to believe that a mother is capable of deliberately making her own child sick.  Juries need strong proof before they’ll convict anyone.  “You’re right as usual, Trix.  That doctor loves Mrs. Lewis—thinks she’s a hero.”

Trixie’s face showed her disbelief.  “He does?  Why?”

Honey was about to tell her how MBP mothers are often well liked by medical staff, who admire their calm and good cheer in the face of illness, when she spotted what could only be a human leg sticking out from behind a distant tree.  She reigned Willie into a full stop.  “Trixie!” she said, pointing.

“Yeah, I see it too.”  The two women dismounted, looping the reins over their wrists as they carefully made their way to the tree.  The leg was attached to the sleeping body of a young boy, the remains of a fire smoldering next to him.  They stood over him, noting with relief that the area around the fire had been carefully scraped free of anything flammable. 

“Here we go again,” Honey muttered and Trixie let out a startled laugh as she caught her friend’s meaning.

“I don’t see a rifle,” she whispered back and the two women smiled at each other as they remembered the time long ago when they found Jim fast asleep in his Great Uncle’s decaying mansion.

“Thank heavens,” Honey murmured, looking down at the boy.  His wavy brown hair nearly covered his closed eyes as he lay huddled in his jacket.  She guessed he was about 12 years old, but it was hard to tell.

Trixie bent over him and gently patted his arm.  “He’s lucky he didn’t freeze to death.  I wonder how long he’s been out here?”

Honey knelt on the other side and touched his face.  “He feels pretty cold, but not frozen, thank god.”

The boy’s eyes suddenly shot open and he gaped at the two women staring down at him, a gasp breaking from his throat.

“Don’t be afraid,” Trixie said as he flinched away from her hand on his shoulder.

“I’m Honey Belden and this is Trixie Frayne.”  The rich, calm sound of Honey’s voice seemed to reassure the boy.  “What’s your name?”

“Neil,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his jacket pocket.  They waited, but he offered nothing more.

“What are you doing out here?” Trixie asked, following Honey’s lead and keeping her voice pleasant and low.

“I didn’t hurt anything,” he replied.  His brown eyes were defiant, but it was easy to see that he was horribly frightened.  He tried to stand, but his legs were stiff from the cold and he stumbled.

Honey and Trixie each took an arm, gently helping him to rise.  “I’m sure you didn’t hurt anything.  I only meant, what’s a young boy like you doing out here all by yourself?  And without proper camping gear?  It’s dangerous to sleep outside this time of the year.  You could have froze!”  Honey almost laughed aloud at the mothering tone in Trixie’s voice.

Neil stared at the ground.  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.  I got lost, and I was really tired, and...” he scuffed his foot back and forth, staring at his shoe like it was an archeological specimen that needed studying.

“Lost?  Where were you going?” Honey asked. 

Neil’s answer surprised them both.  “I’m trying to find Ten Acres Academy.”

“But you’re not a student there,” Trixie exclaimed, exchanging a quick glance with Honey.

“How do you know?”

Trixie grinned at the boy.  “Because, my husband runs that school and I know everybody there, that’s how!” 

Neil visibly relaxed at Trixie’s bantering tone, seeming to understand for the first time that he wasn’t in trouble, that help might be forthcoming.

“How do you know about the school?” Honey asked.

“My friend Ashton goes there.  He says it’s cool,” Neil replied.  He sensed their unasked questions and kept going.  “I don’t have anywhere to live, and Ash hates school, so if he says it’s cool, it must be really cool, so I thought I’d go there and see if I could live there too.”

Trixie and Honey laughed at the boy’s rushed explanation.  “We need to get these horses back to the stable.  Come on—you can help us, then I’ll take you home.  You must be starving,” Trixie said.

Neil’s eyes lit up at the offer of food.  “I’ve never ridden a horse before,” he said shyly, keeping a respectful distance from the two mounts.

“Well, you’ll sure learn at the school,” Trixie promised.  She swung into Susie’s saddle and extended a hand.  “It’s okay, Susie’s really gentle,” she reassured him.  Neil placed his foot in the stirrups, scrunching his eyes as he swung up behind her.  He could hear her speak in soothing tones to the black mare, who stood still as he shifted nervously in the saddle.  The ground was suddenly a long way down.  “Just relax and everything will be fine,” Trixie said, and for the first time in his life, Neil felt that might be true.

The sun rose steadily as the threesome made their way back to the stables, the stunning Fall colors of the preserve a testament to the ever-changing possibilities of life.  Trixie took a deep breath, the rich smell of earth and leaves filling her senses.  Autumn was her favorite time of the year now that she was an adult—the crisp sunny days feeling like a gift after the muggy heat of summer.  Neil stood back and watched as they quickly cleaned and stored the saddles, brushing the horses and giving them food and water.  It was obvious from their speed and skill that it was something they had done many times before.

“There, that’s all done.  And no slave driver standing over us either!” Trixie laughed and Honey laughed with her.  Neil wondered who they were talking about with such obvious affection.  “I’m just going to leave Regan a note and let him know that Susie and Willie had a morning workout,” she continued, heading for the small office off to the right of the last stall.  Regan...I guess these are his stables, Neil thought.

“These are the school stables.  All the students are encouraged to learn how to ride and take care of the horses,” Honey explained.

Neil gave a start, uneasily wondering how she knew what he’d been thinking. “Then I was by the school the whole time?” he cried, feeling foolish.

Honey smiled sympathetically.  “It’s really easy to get lost in the preserve if you don’t know your way around.  I lived here for over a year and rode on these trails a lot before I even felt half way comfortable.”

Trixie rejoined them.  “And I grew up in Sleepyside and still managed to get turned around plenty.”  She grinned at Honey.  “Remember how we used to give the horses their head and hope for the best?”

Neil relaxed at their shared laughter, the warmth and cleanliness of the stables creeping over him.  He could sense the order and care—there was no neglect here.

He was silent as they walked back to Trixie’s house, the sun shining brightly, leaves crunching underfoot, the sound of bird song in the air.  He could almost believe that he was welcome—that maybe things would be all right.  He stole quick glances at the women walking beside him, enjoying the soft cadence of their easy conversation.  The one called Honey had the kindest eyes he had ever seen, her long golden hair reminding him of a fairy tale.  He wondered if Honey was her real name, thinking that it sure suited her.  He couldn’t remember ever hearing such a sweet voice. 

His face reddened as he realized that the other woman, Trixie, was observing him.  He had the feeling that she missed nothing and felt a little scared until he remembered her telling him he could have froze.  It had been so long since anybody had cared whether he was cold or not.  He wasn’t sure how he knew, but it was obvious that not only did she care about his well being, she was ready to do what she had to do to ensure it.  He looked down at the ground, the unfamiliar warmth spreading in him at once terrible and wonderful.

“Here we are,” she said as she opened the door leading into the kitchen.  Neil almost swooned with pleasure as he stepped into the warm house.  His mouth watered as he smelled fresh coffee brewing, and wondered if asking for some would be rude.

“Coffee,” Honey said rapturously.

Trixie glanced at the clock.  “Jim’s probably in the shower right about now.  The coffee is on a timer,” she explained.  She turned to Honey.  “Katy shouldn’t be up for another half hour at least—why don’t I fix us one of those really bad for you, only-on-the-weekend breakfasts?”  At her eager nod, Trixie turned to Neil.  “Is there anything you especially like?”

Neil almost cried—he was obviously trespassing on her property, she didn’t even know him, and she actually wanted to know what he, Neil, wanted?  He couldn’t answer, only looked at her.

Trixie and Honey traded sympathetic glances—what has this boy been through?—the question that was running through both of their minds.  “My brothers always liked pancakes and sausage; how does that sound to everyone?”

“Sounds great—what’s the occasion?” Jim strode into the kitchen, his hair still wet.  He stopped at the sight of Neil, a puzzled expression filling his face.

“This is Neil—we found him out in the woods when we were riding,” “He has a friend at your school,” Trixie and Honey both began speaking at once, then stopped, grinning at each other.  “Go on. No, you!” they both said, then started laughing.

“Good to see you Neil—as you can see, we need more of the male species around here,” Jim said easily, approaching him and holding out his hand.  He quickly appraised him as they shook hands—it was obvious that the boy was very nervous and under some kind of strain. “I’m Jim.”

“Hi,” was all he said.

Jim asked no questions.  He’s wondering if he’s in trouble and if there’s any help for him here, poor guy.  He’s also thinking that if he wasn’t so tired and hungry, he’d just bolt.  “Have a seat,” he invited.  As Neil complied, he turned to his sister, giving her a hug.  “What’s with the midnight visit, little sister?”  He kept his tone light.

Honey hugged him back.  “I can’t talk about it on an empty stomach,” she said and left it at that.  Jim gave her a look she recognized, but let it drop.

“Okay, okay—that’s my cue,” Trixie cut in, taking down a large frying pan with a flourish and  setting it down on the stove.

Jim put his arms around her, pulling her back against him.  “I like ham with my eggs and mind you don’t break them,” he quoted.

“You’ll get pancakes and like ‘em!” she responded, pressing into him for a moment.  “Stop quoting literature and get the griddle down, farm boy.”

“As you wish.” Trixie watched enviously as he easily reached into the top cupboard, handing her the requested item.  “How’s the air up there?” she asked, making a face as he replied, “Pretty good, shorty.”

Jim and Honey set the table as Trixie mixed batter and placed several sausages on a broiler pan, telling Neil to just relax.  As the delicious smells filled the kitchen, he closed his eyes, hardly able to believe he was there.  And to think, just yesterday I was—Neil tried to stop the flow of thoughts, not wanting to remember the letter and the intense frustration and anger he felt when he knew—no! Warm kitchen, breakfast cooking, maybe a new life, I get to see Ashton again. Neil inwardly chanted the words over and over to himself like a mantra, unaware that Jim and Honey were both scrutinizing him.

“Honey, why don’t you go fetch her highness?  This is almost ready and she’ll be so excited to see you.”  Trixie handed Jim the platter of fragrant sausages to put on the table.

Honey’s face lit up at the thought as she dashed out of the kitchen.  “Has she told you anything yet?” Jim asked, setting down the platter.

“No, and believe it or not, I’m not going to push her,” Trixie replied, neatly flipping the last of the pancakes onto a large plate, nodding with satisfaction at their golden brown perfection.  “Who would have believed I’d ever turn out to be such a faaaabulous cook?”

Neil wondered how long the mood would last before it inevitably turned ugly.  She looks pretty strong, but he’s a big guy, he thought with a pang.  He decided to enjoy it while it lasted, but not to get too comfortable.  He knew better than that.

“Do you want a glass of milk?” Jim’s voice brought him back to his surroundings. 

“Oh shoot—we’re out of milk. I forgot to pick some up on the way home yesterday,” Trixie admitted as she set the pancakes on the table.

“What am I going to do with you?  Every time you get a new case you forget about everything else,” Jim said. 

Here it comes, Neil thought dully, his stomach clenching as his hands white knuckled into fists. 

Trixie and Jim stared at Neil in surprise as he noticeably stiffened, his eyes wary as he slid his chair slightly back from the table.  “Is something wrong, Neil?” she asked quietly. When he didn’t reply, she added, “We have some orange juice if you’d like,” even though she knew it wasn’t the lack of milk that was the problem.  She gave Jim a quick glance, understanding the hint of sad recognition that came and went in his green eyes.

“Uh, I’d rather have coffee.  Please,” he remembered to add, feeling his heart rate slowly return to normal.  At Jim’s surprised look he said, “I always drink it.” 

Jim shrugged and brought him a cup.  “I didn’t get into the habit ‘til I went to college, but I suppose it won’t kill you.”

Honey returned to the kitchen with an ecstatic Katy clinging to her like a burr.  “A party!” she said happily to her aunt, wriggling against her.  She waved to the boy her auntie Honey had told her about while she got her dressed.

Neil smiled shyly and returned the exuberant toddler’s greeting. As they all gathered around the table, he filled his mouth hungrily with the first decent meal he’d had in days, the pleasant and teasing conversation making him both lightheaded and content.  It was pure folly, but he allowed his guard to relax just a little, deciding to savor the feeling of happiness like the rare treasure it was, even though he knew full well the dangers inherent in such a foolish emotion.  It didn’t pay to rely on tranquillity; Neil preferred to keep his feet on the solid ground of uncertainty, knowing that when you have nothing, you have nothing to lose.

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