Preservation

He had a home

The love of a girl

But men get lost sometimes

--The Eagles

Universe notes: This story takes place in the time right after 5/1/2005 – Trixie’s 29^th birthday.

Chapter One

It was the world’s biggest long shot, but once Trixie got an idea, there was no getting rid of it.

She stopped frowning into her computer screen and stood up, stretching, a hand going up to rub the back of her neck. She paced, mumbling to herself.

Her business partner, as well as her best friend and sister-in-law, glanced up from her own computer, seemingly about to speak, before she changed her mind.

In spite of her growing frustration, the corners of Trixie’s mouth involuntarily quirked upwards. “What are you up to, Trixie?” she said, since Honey hadn't..

Honey looked startled for only a moment. Then she nodded. “You know, I don’t care. You’ve been acting possessed ever since your birthday, but please...don’t tell me. Really.” She yawned elaborately and scratched above her right ear.

Trixie moved in front of her, paused for a moment, then blew a raspberry. Trixie wore her usual late spring, no-client-to-see blue jeans, paired with a pale yellow peasant blouse of the thinnest cotton. Her blonde hair was its usual mass of curls, her face bare of make-up except for a hint of lipgloss. “What would you say to Wimpy’s and a gab session?” she finally asked.

Honey’s reply was to gently close her laptop and rise. “Finally”, she murmured, picking up her purse.

It was a short drive from White Plains to Sleepyside. Once at the same, small diner they still liked to dine at, they found a relatively quiet booth in the corner. Honey waited until after they’d placed their orders and been given their drinks to ask one of the questions that had been on her mind for days. Really, the only question that truly concerned her. “Is something wrong?”

Honey’s voice was so serious that Trixie was momentarily startled. “No,” she answered quickly. Then she sighed, dunking her straw up and down, seemingly enraptured with the fizzy sound emanating from her glass. She looked up into a pair of worried hazel eyes. “No,” she repeated. “Not really. I’m just…I’m looking for something.”

Honey waited, but there was no more. “Something?” she repeated.

Trixie nodded, and Honey waited patiently. She knew Trixie well enough to know that, given enough time, the story would emerge. That, while Trixie was usually a very quick person, quick to laugh, quick to solve a problem (or get them into one), and especially quick to feel something very deeply, expressing what it all meant to her was an entirely different matter.

“Do you remember looking at the Belden scrapbooks at my birthday party?” Trixie asked, seemingly out of the blue.

During a particularly nasty winter a few years back, Trixie’s mother had taken up scrapbooking, organizing the hundreds of family photos that had formerly lived in boxes and old, tattered albums into several attractively bound leather books. They were her pride and joy, and Helen Belden never missed an opportunity to bring them out.

“Yes,” Honey replied, in a tone that said, I’m not sure what this has to do with anything, but I trust you.

A rush of feeling suddenly filled Trixie, and she was glad the waitress showed up at that moment with two steaming plates. She set them down carefully in front of the two women with a small flourish.

“Anything else I can get for you ladies?” she asked.

“No, thank you,” Honey replied, almost impatiently for her. Once the waitress had moved on to the next table, Honey continued. “Go on,” she said.

Trixie slowly picked up a French fry, examining it before taking a bite. “The scrapbooks,” she reiterated. “The kids loved them. And I loved that they did. I loved all the good memories those pictures brought back. The feeling of family. And I loved being able to share all of that with Katy, Maddie and Andrew.” She bent her head to take a quick sip of her soda. Honey was dismayed to see Trixie’s blue eyes glistening with unshed tears when she looked back up. “Later on at home, they wanted to see pictures of Jim when he was a little boy.”

Honey blew out the breath she’d been unconsciously holding. “Oh,” she exclaimed sympathetically. She thought she understood. “I guess looking at his old family photos must have been upsetting for him, huh?” Her own eyes welled up; Jim was her brother by adoption. He’d lost both parents by the time he was 13, and she knew how painful it still was for him, even all these years later. Even though he had a new family and a family of his own.

“No,” Trixie said.

Honey was relieved, but confused. “No? Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” She took a large bite of her burger.

Trixie shook her head. “No, that’s not what I meant.” The sun glinting through the window made the lone tear that slipped down Trixie’s cheek sparkle for a moment until she impatiently swiped it away. “Oh, Honey, he doesn’t have any pictures from his childhood. Just this one picture he has of his mother that he carries around in his wallet.”

Honey let out a soft sound of dismay. “And all this time, I thought he never showed us any pictures because it was just too upsetting. I never dreamed that he just didn’t have any!”

Trixie was nodding. “I know. Me too.”

“Some sister I turned out to be.”

Trixie let out a humorless laugh. “Some wife I turned out to be. Oh, Hon, I feel just awful. But that’s not even the worst of it.” Trixie felt the anger fill her again and welcomed it. Angry, she could act, whereas sadness made her throat ache so badly she could hardly move.

Honey recognized the growing anger in the woman sitting across from her. “What could be worse than not having any tangible memories of your own childhood?” she wanted to know.

Trixie looked grim. “Having them taken from you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jonesy. That son of a bitch excuse for a stepfather.”

Honey involuntarily started, both at the profanity, which Trixie rarely ever used since becoming a mother, and the tone, which was cold and hard. “Jonesy?”

Trixie gave a single nod. “Jonesy.” She looked at Honey, her voice flat. “He burned them.”

***

“And then what?” Maddie asked, bouncing up and down on her bed in excitement.

Katy glanced towards the doorway before allowing her voice to soften into an eerie whisper. “And then the snake bit her!” She never could resist telling a good story. And her little sister was usually her best audience.

Maddie’s blue eyes widened respectfully. “Really?”

Her older sister nodded. “Yep. And then Great Aunt Nell went to heaven. And Great Uncle James was mad.” Katy had heard the story of her father’s great-uncle in bits and pieces; fascinated by a tragedy involving grownups she didn’t know. On some level, she understood that the story was a sad one, but mostly, she was excited by the idea of a killer snake. She supposed she’d be mad at the snake too.

Maddie sucked on her finger for a moment. “He was mad?”

Katy nodded emphatically; her reddish-gold curls bouncing on her shoulders. “He sure was.”

Maddie frowned. “He didn’t mean it.”

Katy yawned. “Who didn’t mean it?”

“The snake.” Maddie, who loved all animals deeply, didn’t like to think of this.

Katy laughed. “You’re so silly.”

Maddie thought for moment. “He didn’t!” she finally wailed.

Katy was about to tell her what she thought when she heard the sound of her father’s voice coming from the doorway.

“I hope you’re not telling Maddie a scary story at bedtime.”

Katy tried to school her face into the picture of innocence, but a flush gave her away. “No, Daddy,” she stammered.

Jim entered the cozy room painted a creamy, light green. “What have we told you about that, young lady?”

Katy gulped, but didn’t answer. It wasn’t often that her father scolded her; but when he did, she knew it was very serious.

Jim shook his head. “And I don’t like it that you lied to me either.”

Katy was a picture of misery. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, looking at her feet. 

Maddie, who adored her sister, began to cry, unable to completely understand what was going on, only that she was somehow the cause of it.

Jim looked at his two unhappy girls and inwardly sighed. He’d had an unusually rough day at his school for homeless boys that day, breaking up a fight in the morning and having to deal with a sick horse in the school stables at mid-day. This, and the fact that he’d been in a bit of a funk since his wife’s birthday, was surely what caused him to react more sharply than his usual, easygoing manner with his oldest daughter.

“Don’t let it happen again, you got me? If Maddie has nightmares tonight, I’m not going to be very happy about it.” He sat on Maddie’s bed and began to comfort her, hardly noticing when Katy slunk away to her own room.

But as it turned out, Maddie wasn’t the one he should have worried about that night.

Restless from the events of the day and unable to sleep, Jim had crept down to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Later on, upstairs, as he walked down the long hall that led back to the master bedroom, he heard first a whimper from Katy’s room, then her cry out for him.

An icy cold chill flared from his belly down to his toes as he ran into her bedroom, skidding to a stop by her bed as he realized, simultaneously, that there wasn’t an intruder murdering his firstborn, and that Katy was not really awake.

He sank down carefully onto her bed and laid his hand gently onto her damp forehead as her eyes fluttered open. “I dreamt you went away!” she wept. Her covers were half on the floor, a mute testament to a restless night, and Jim, deeply regretting his earlier sharpness, carefully tucked them around her before replying.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. He brushed a kiss on her forehead. “And Daddy’s sorry he got so mad before. You didn’t mean to lie, did you?”

Katy tearfully shook her head, her curls in wild disarray over her pillow.

“Is everything okay?” Trixie whispered from the doorway. She, too, had heard Katy cry out.

Jim silently stroked his daughter’s hair, unable to reply. He knew what his wife meant, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to answer in the affirmative. An ancient sadness filled him.

“Jim?” Trixie entered the room and walked over the to bed, the moonlight streaming into the room lighting up the worried expression that furrowed her forehead. She looked down at Katy, then quickly up at Jim as she realized that their daughter had fallen back to sleep.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Jim forced a smile and carefully rose. “Nothing,” he said. He didn’t mean to lie either. He just didn’t know how to answer her.

Chapter 2

Do what you will, always
Walk where you like, your steps
Do as you please, I'll back you up

--The Dave Matthews Band

A week later, Trixie hung up her desk phone with a sigh. Another dead end. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a long moment.

Even knowing everything she knew about Jim’s stepfather, it hurt her to believe that one more atrocity had been committed against the man she loved so much. It was just so damn unfair.

She just didn’t want to believe it. Not now, and not when Jim told her.

And not even when she told his sister last week. She thought back to her best friend’s reaction and felt a bolt of shame that she hadn’t taken Honey up on her offer to help. Why she still found it so hard to accept assistance she would never know.

“I don’t want to believe it, Honey. Jim’s stepfather was a cruel man, there’s no doubt about that, but…” Trixie’s voice had trailed off as the two women sat before their untouched lunches at Wimpy’s. She could tell that her revelation about the burning of Jim’s childhood photos had profoundly shocked Honey.

Honey took a small sip of her ice tea and cleared her throat. “I don’t have any trouble believing it. That man—” and here her voice took on a hard edge that Trixie wasn’t used to hearing from her usually gentle best friend—“correction, that animal treated Jim no better than a piece of farm equipment he was determined to get as much use out of as possible before throwing away.” Honey seemed to realize that her voice was rising by the glances from the woman at the next table, and she lowered her tone. “I’m just so angry. And sad.”

Trixie nodded and patted Honey’s hand. “Me, too,” she said.

“You said you were looking for something. What—a weapon that will suck out Jonesy’s heart and make it explode? Not that he even has one.”

Trixie smiled in spite of herself. It was always the quiet ones you had to watch out for, and she felt sorry for anybody who managed to raise Honey’s ire. “No. Although that’s a fine idea.” She allowed herself a brief moment to imagine Jonesy crumpling to the ground in twisting, burning agony before continuing, “Jim told me his mother kept all the family pictures in a beautiful album that belonged to her grandmother. He was pretty sure it was genuine silver – he remembered his mother polishing it from time to time. So, I’ve been thinking. We all know how greedy Jonesy was. Is.”

Honey nodded in agreement. “Oh, yes. Who could forget what he did to poor Juliana, so he could try and claim her inheritance for his own?”

Trixie nodded. “Exactly. So I thought, what if Jonesy lied to Jim? What if he actually took the album and pawned it somewhere, and just told Jim he’d destroyed it to mess with him?”

Honey looked at her dearest friend in the world. Her cheeks were flushed with both indignation and excitement, and Honey knew how important it was for Trixie to feel she was doing something. She chose her words carefully. “It’s possible. But Trix, sweetie, that was…well, that was years ago.”

“I know.”

Honey cleared her throat, hating what she was going to say next, but feeling like she had to. “And even if he did pawn the album, he may have still removed the pages and…and destroyed them.”

Trixie sighed. “I know that too. That’s why I haven’t said anything to anyone.” She pushed her plate away, knowing that she would never be able to swallow past the lump in her throat. “I know it’s stupid. But Honey, I’ve got to try.” The image of Jim’s face when his children asked to see his pictures flashed before her and strengthened her resolve. “I know it’s probably hopeless, but I don’t care. I don’t care if I have to call or visit every pawnshop in the state of New York. I’m going to do it!”

“It’s not stupid, Trixie. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I just hate to see you disappointed and hurt if you’re not successful.” Honey’s voice was contrite, and Trixie calmed down immediately.

“I know you’re only trying to look after my best interests,” Trixie assured her.

“Let me help you. I want to help you.”

Trixie’s heart filled, but she shook her head.

The waitress approached them then, eyeing their near-full plates. “Is there a problem with your meals? I can bring you something else.”

Honey looked up at her with a small smile. “There’s no problem. I guess we just weren’t as hungry as we thought we were.”

The waitress nodded and began to clear the table. “Dump him, honey. You don’t need the aggravation.” She aimed this declaration at the both of them, figuring that, whatever had the two women so upset probably had a man behind it. “I left my Charlie about five years ago and I’ve never regretted it!”

Honey and Trixie exchanged incredulous glances, the tension draining from their faces as the urge to laugh threatened to overwhelm them.

“I’ll certainly keep that in mind,” Honey replied while Trixie tried to disguise her snort as a stifled sneeze.

“Beautiful girl like you – you won’t be alone for long.” She placed their check on the table and took their plates away with a final, summing up nod.

Trixie waited until she saw her disappear into the kitchen. “If men are so awful, why would you want another one?” Trixie gasped.

“God knows I have enough agony with the one I have now!” Honey wheezed.

Trixie smiled at the memory. As bad as things sometimes got, she could always count on Honey to keep her from going completely insane.

She wandered into their small kitchenette and extracted a strawberry pop from the refrigerator. She frowned as she stood by the open door, letting the cool air wash over her for a moment as she took a large gulp. It hadn’t taken long to eliminate the seven places she’d found in Albany that re-sold used items. The seven that happen to be in business now, a coolly logical voice whispered in her brain.

Trixie managed to ignore it, as she usually did when it was inconvenient, or got in the way of her heart’s desire.

Fine. Just because they were living in Albany at the time doesn’t mean he took it there.

Trixie tossed the empty can into the recycling bin and rubbed her eyes for a moment, thinking hard. She knew that Jim’s mother had died after a lengthy illness – that had to mean a lot of doctor’s bills. Jonesy, for all his faults, apparently loved Katje, at least, according to Jim. He would have done whatever he could for his wife. After she died, he would have needed money.

Trixie groaned aloud. If she were Jonesy, she would have taken the album to New York. It was only a three hour drive from Albany, even less on the train.

There had to be a million pawnshops in New York.

Trixie slowly walked back to her desk, sat down and began a new internet search. The list of pawnshops was a mile long, and she had the sudden urge to pick up her computer and throw it, right at Jonesy’s skull. Instead, she sent the list to her printer.

Then suddenly, she smiled as the thought came to her. It was simple, as most really good ideas are. She reached for her phone and made two hasty phone calls. Then she turned back to her computer, her heart considerably lighter then before.

Before long, the cavalry arrived in the form of Honey and Dan Mangan. “Honey filled me in already,” Dan said, before Trixie could utter a word. He sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk and gave the hair hanging in his eye a negligent flick. “Man, what a puswad.”

Trixie let out a short laugh. “Yeah, well, with a first name like Gaylord, I don’t suppose he had much of a chance at being normal. Can you imagine the beatings he must have taken, growing up?” She suddenly thought about the beatings Jim had to endure growing up and her laughter died as soon as it began.

Hone laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad you want me to help.”

There wasn’t any rancor in her tone, but Trixie flushed anyway. “I’m sorry, Hon. I don’t know why I didn’t take you up on your offer before. I guess I just thought…I don’t know. It’s kind of a crazy idea.”

“So? That’s never stopped you before,” Dan said.

Trixie made a face, but her heart felt lighter.

“And anyway, Jim’s my brother. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him,” Honey said as she took the vacant seat next to Dan.

“You guys are the best,” Trixie said, simply. She pulled the stack of papers off of her printer. “Dan, you are the New York Man. Where do you think we should begin?

Dan glanced at the list and reached for a pencil. “I think you should begin by grabbing me a soda out of the fridge.”

I’m just wondering why I feel so all alone,

why I’m a stranger in my own life

--Sheryl Crow

Jim stood in the kitchen by the phone, his ‘almost twins’ Maddie and Andrew, swarming around him, trying to out-shout big sister, Katy, with requested pizza toppings. The din was just slightly less than incredible, but Jim was allowing it for the time being. He was far too mad at his wife to think about anything else.

He looked at the clock again and felt his impatience grow. When his first mother was alive, she had dinner on the table at the same time, every night. It was something he could always count on. Even when they were living with Jonesy, her schedule rarely varied.

Until she got sick.

She didn’t work outside the home, he reminded himself, but his irritation was like a burr that wouldn’t shake loose, no matter how hard he tried. He felt a flare of guilt and closed his eyes. He’d come a long way from that boy who wanted to keep Trixie safe from the world at all costs. Why was he acting this way?

If only he could stop remembering. He needed to stop thinking about a time when he had his first set of parents and thought nothing could ever change his world. Before he knew how something so precious could be lost, and all too easily.

Just at that moment, Trixie yanked open the back door and hurried in, one of her excuses already bubbling out of her as she crossed into the room, opening her arms as Andrew ran to her, Maddie close on his heels.

"Pizza, pizza, pizza!" the little boy shouted.

Trixie swooped him up into a tight hug, while Maddie contented herself with wrapping her arms around her mother’s leg. "Pizza?" Trixie repeated, kissing Andrew on the cheek and ruffling Maddie’s blonde hair. "I can hear you, Panda," she gently chided when Andrew began to repeat his chant directly into her ear.

Jim frowned and almost welcomed the return of his anger. "I was about to order a pizza; the kids are starved. Is your cell phone broken or something?" Usually, when Trixie was later than expected, he’d tease her about new mysteries and call her shamus. The odd unhappiness that had filled him of late made itself at home in his chest, and he found he couldn’t look her in the eye.

She’d been so caught up in the plans she, Dan and Honey had been making: so excited; so filled with hope. She felt the chill of Jim’s disapproval and felt the sudden shock of her thud back to earth. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so late. I know it’s my night to cook."

"You never mean to," Jim muttered.

Trixie’s mouth opened and then closed. An odd look crossed over her face before it smoothed. She carefully set Andrew down and took a breath.

His family all stared at him silently. Jim held up a hand, suddenly, unbearably weary. "Forget it. Just forget it." He was tired, mostly of himself. What was wrong with him anyway? He opened his mouth to apologize.

"I’m not going to forget it!" Trixie folded her arms and glared.

"Don’t fight!" Maddie exclaimed. She pressed her face into Trixie’s knee.

Trixie glanced down at her youngest daughter and forced a reassuring smile. "We’re not fighting, Pumpkin." Somehow, just the sight of Maddie’s small and sturdy figure diffused part of her temper. "We’re not fighting," Trixie repeated and hoped that it was true. She gently patted Maddie’s head. "Mommy’s just a little ticked. That’s all!" That was definitely true. She imagined hitting Jim with a broom, and the thought cheered her immensely, so much so that a genuine smile perked at the corners of her mouth.

"Nooo, we’re not fighting." Jim said, and something about his tone made Trixie’s spine stiffen. She adopted the same cool tone.

"I’m going to start dinner," she said. She walked over to the refrigerator and opened it without really seeing any of its contents, her heart twitching uncomfortably. She hated fighting with Jim. She had a sudden urge to start flinging whatever she could get her hands on.

"Fine. I’ve got a few things to take care of at the school. I’ll be back." The lie sat uneasily in Jim’s belly. He left before anybody could say a word.

Jim was the love of her life and the father of her children. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him, including what was probably a fruitless search for his childhood memories. Trixie grabbed a package of chicken and closed the refrigerator, none too gently. Anger rose like lava into her throat. A broom was too light. A baseball bat, now that could really leave a mark!

"Moms, can we get pizza?" Katy asked.

"Pizza, pizza, pizza!" Andrew began chanting again.

"No," Trixie said.

The children waited, but there was no more. They watched as Trixie ripped open the package.

"Why?" Katy asked, most unwisely.

Andrew began to cry, and Maddie, who hated it when anybody cried, began clinging to Trixie’s leg again.

Because I’m supposed to be the perfect wife and mother, that’s why! "We’re not having pizza," Trixie repeated. "And that’s final."

"But…" Katy began.

Andrew’s wails increased in volume, and Maddie began to uncharacteristically whimper. Their cat, Peeves, attracted by the ruckus, entered the kitchen and let out a lusty yowl.

Trixie wondered if it was possible for her head to simply explode. She said, in a voice that sounded like grounded glass, "Katy, take your brother and sister outside, and keep an eye on them while I make dinner."

Katy looked at her mother sullenly and didn’t reply…or move.

Trixie felt the moment when her patience literally melted away into nothingness. "Now!"

Lambs being led to the slaughter couldn’t look more put-upon as her children filed silently out the back door.

Trixie sighed. "And the winner of the Best Mother on the Planet Award goes to…Trixie Frayne! Woo hoo!" She rubbed her head for a moment, pressing her fingertips into her eyebrows. And to think the evening had started out so well!

Serves me right, Trixie thought crossly, for thinking I was finally getting some control in my life!

She should have remembered that control over one’s life was usually an illusion.

***

Katy Frayne was ticked. She was hungry, and she wanted pizza. What she didn’t want was to watch over her brother and sister.

She thumped down onto the porch swing and scowled, thinking mother-hate thoughts as she picked up the Lucy Radcliffe book that was lying there.

"Chase me!" Andrew shouted with his typical, little boy exuberance.

"Don’t feel like it," was the only response he received from his eldest sister.

Undeterred, he turned towards his "almost-twin" Maddie. "You can’t catch me!"

Her brother could be annoying sometimes, but Maddie had to admit he was fun to play with. She glanced at Katy, but her sister continued to pointedly ignore both of them, burying her face into her book.

Maddie sighed. Mommy was mad, and so was Daddy. She could always tell—their voices got funny when they talked to each other, and they didn’t smile. And Katy was mad, too, if she didn’t want to play.

She didn’t like it when anybody was mad. She didn’t like it one bit.

"C’mon!" Andrew cried, as he broke into a run.

A wooden deck circled the entire house. It was a haven on rainy days, perfect for barbeques, and normally one of Maddie’s favorite places.

She didn’t feel like playing either, but she obediently took off after her brother, who, upon looking over his shoulder and seeing her, let out a squeal.

As they circled the deck, Andrew shouting, she silent, Maddie’s thoughts drifted.

Why was everybody so mad? And why was Daddy so gloomy lately? He never wanted to play anymore, usually patting Maddie gently on the head and saying, "Maybe later" when she asked him.

When grownups said maybe, they really meant no. Maddie felt her throat swell. If Daddy wasn’t going to play with her anymore, he must be mad at her.

More than once, she’d caught him sitting quietly, staring at seemingly nothing. Usually, he was always doing—busy with what he called "the dreaded paperwork", although most of the time Auntie Honey took care of that. Or taking the kids to the stables where he and Uncle Regan would show them how to take care of the horses and not get hurt. Or taking them through the woods, teaching them about the animals, showing them the footprints that they left behind. And if Maddie ever got tired, he’d lift her up, call her his great big girl, and swing her up high, so high she was as tall as the trees.

The air was somehow cleaner out in the preserve, and, even though there were usually students from the school with them, as well as her brother and sister, she always felt like it was their special place. That it belonged to just her and Daddy.

A longing to be with him filled her. She’d say she was sorry. Then, he’d smile, and maybe they’d go to the stables and feed Susie and Jupiter some baby carrots.

She stopped in front of Katy, ignoring her brother’s howl of protest.

"Let’s go get Daddy," Maddie said, indicating the trail that led to Ten Acres Academy with a jerk of her head.

Katy turned a page. "You know we can’t leave without Moms’ permission."

When Maddie said nothing in reply, Katy added, "I’m not gonna ask her!"

Maddie sucked on her fingertip for a minute and then turned and went back into the house without a word.

Katy watched her go, a line of guilt appearing briefly between her brows. She and Maddie had an unspoken deal that would have surprised Jim and Trixie very much, if they ever found out about it. The girls had long ago discovered each parent’s soft spot, and, although neither doubted the other’s love, they cheerfully exploited this discovery whenever possible. If permission was required by their mother, Katy always asked, by their father, Maddie.

Katy shrugged and went back to her book. It only worked when their parents were in a good mood or in a big hurry, anyway.

She closed the book and idly glanced down at her brother. He lay on his stomach near her feet, making vroom vroom crash! sounds with one of his toy cars, happily in charge of the way of things.

At least one of them was.

***

Trixie had thought she couldn’t feel worse.

After she sent Maddie back outside with a, "No, you can’t. He’ll be back soon anyway", she stalked back to the refrigerator and yanked lettuce from the crisper, letting out a yelp when she pinched her finger closing the door.  Since nobody was around, she kicked the door closed and felt a little better.

She savagely tore lettuce and threw it into a bowl, muttering under her breath. A piece got caught under her engagement ring, and, as she worked the greenery loose, she let out an unexpected laugh as memories suddenly diffused her. She stared at the ring Jim had given her so long ago—remembering a time when she was just 13, and her big brother had a problem. Remembering a time when she put aside her own feelings and focused on somebody else for a change.

Trixie stared unseeingly out of the window and was swept away by reminiscences. By the time she came back to the present, her anger had been replaced with worry – worry for Jim, who’d been quiet and moody for weeks.

She glanced at the clock and sighed. Everybody was hungry, and the only thing she’d managed to do was let chicken sit out on the counter and destroy a head of lettuce.

Perhaps pizza wasn’t such a bad idea after all, Trixie thought. She’d get the hugest, cheesiest pizza there was. She’d hug her kids extra tightly. And, after they’d gone to sleep, she’d make Jim forget all about whatever was troubling him. It had been a while since she’d put on the lacy, black negligee he liked. She grinned to herself. She’d also get him back for that "you never mean to" remark while she was at it…in a way he wouldn’t likely forget!

She welcomed her old friend lust – the familiar, sweet, achy feeling swirling lazily behind her belly button and heading downwards as she plotted and schemed.

She’d fix it. They’d fix it. It would get better.

Katy heard the kitchen door open and then close with a bang, not bothering to look up from her book. She figured that Maddie’s talk with their mother hadn’t gone well and was glad that she’d stuck to her guns. Maddie should have listened to her and saved herself a lot of trouble.

Katy would never be sure how much time had passed since Maddie came back outside and resumed chasing Andrew around the deck. What she would remember was the way she said, before Maddie could utter a sound, "I told you she’d say no!" with a certain feeling of triumph that would later made her feel sick inside.

The silence, combined with the fading light, had finally caught her attention, and her heart gave a sudden lurch as she tore her attention away from her book and gave a wild look around. She finally spotted Andrew lying on his stomach, listlessly pushing one of his cars back and forth.

"Where’s Maddie?" she asked him, feeling as if Mexican jumping beans had taken up residence in her stomach. Her mother was going to really let her have it for not keeping a closer eye on her sister.

"Dunno," the little boy replied. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "When are we going to eat?"

"Soon," she answered, but her mind was racing.

Katy gnawed on her thumbnail and thought. Maddie knew the way to Daddy’s school. Heck, even Andrew could walk there by himself.

Not that her parents were okay with that sort of thing.

Katy squirmed guiltily—if she ran to the school to find Maddie, she’d have to take Andrew, and he’d surely tell. Andrew was notoriously bad at keeping what his Uncle Bobby referred to as a "seecrud." Or, even worse, she’d run into Maddie and her father on their way back, and she’d have to hear the "two wrongs don’t make a right" lecture.

Plus, if her mother came outside and found them all gone, Katy would be in even more trouble than she already was.

Katy felt a bolt of anger as she thought about her younger sister. Darn Maddie! Why couldn’t she just wait for Daddy to come back?

Katy sighed. There was only one thing to do. She had to take Andrew inside the house and confess everything to her mother. Then, they could all walk to the school together.

Maybe then, she wouldn’t be in too much trouble. She knew Moms and Daddy liked hearing the truth.

Katy’s eyes filled with guilty tears. She was the big sister, and she was responsible. Her mother had asked her to watch both Maddie and Andrew. It was all Katy’s fault that Maddie had wandered off by herself.

Her decision was made for her as her mother suddenly came out onto the deck.

"Pizza should be here soon, kids."

Andrew let out a cheer, but Katy could barely smile. She felt even worse when her mother laid a hand on her shoulder and apologized. "I’m sorry I was so grouchy before."

She didn’t deserve her mother’s apology. She was the worst sister who ever lived.

Katy let out a sob, and didn’t resist when her mother drew her close, pressing her face into her mother’s shoulder.

"Angel! What is it?"

The love and concern in her mother’s voice only deepened her feelings of remorse and shame. She tried to answer, but there was something wrong with Katy’s voice. Instead of the words she needed, all that came out was a small, strangled sound that fell silent when her mother quickly added, "And where’s Maddie?"

***

Ellis Parker Butler - The Wood Nymph

The shade deepened under the trees as Maddie scurried through the preserve. She knew she was being a bad girl for going to Daddy’s school by herself, especially after her mother just told her no.

But the bad feeling wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. Katy was mad, her mother was mad, and Daddy was mad. And she couldn’t be sure, but it was starting to seem like everybody was mad at her.

Katy didn’t want to play with her. And Mommy hadn’t liked it one bit when she, Maddie, asked her if they could go get Daddy right now.

Maddie thought her heart would break. She had to find Daddy and tell him she was sorry for being bad. Everything would be okay, then.

Maddie looked around and quickened her pace, the dirt churned by her sneakers coating the dampness of her summer-heated skin. She’d walked on this trail a hundred times, but never by herself, and it was funny that she’d never noticed how the trees seemed to block out the sky, or how the branches seemed to reach out to grab her.

Her steps slowed. Maybe she should run back to the house as fast as she could. Maybe…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a frantic, high-pitched sound that caused her entire body to jerk with fear for a moment until the sound came again. This time, she recognized it for what it was.

"A puppy!" she breathed. Please help me; I’m in trouble! the dog seemed to be saying, and Maddie thought she knew exactly how it felt.

Without a thought of her father’s repeated warnings to never, ever wander into the preserve; she took off in the direction of the sound, not noticing the enfolding shadows of the trees as the late afternoon waned into evening.

The sound led her on and on, and Maddie’s breath was just about to give out when she spotted the small, grayish-black animal in the near distance.

She couldn’t wait to help him. He was obviously lost and scared, his yips getting louder and louder as his small form bounced off of the ground with the force of his barks.

"It’s okay, puppy!" Maddie called out as she scampered closer.

But to her dismay, the dog bolted. A tear rolled down Maddie’s dusty cheek, and she wiped a grimy fist over it before taking off after the running dog.

"No! Don’t go!" she yelled.

She ran and ran, but she was no match for the dog’s frantic pace. Its yelps grew fainter, and Maddie finally stumbled to a halt, breathless and hot. She couldn’t understand why the dog ran from her like that when she only wanted to help.

Maddie crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. She was tired, hungry, and cross; everybody in her family was mad, even the little dog was mad, and there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it. It wasn’t fair! Not one bit!

Her anger dissolved as quickly as it arrived, and Maddie gulped down a sob while she wondered what to do next.

The answer came easily; she’d go to Daddy, and he’d help her find the dog, even if he would be mad at her for going into the preserve by herself. He loved animals as much as she did, even their cat, Peeves, who Daddy pretended not to like, telling Maddie that while dogs had owners, cats had staff. Maddie always laughed, even though she wasn’t sure what that meant.

She took a few steps, and then hesitated, frowning. Where was the trail? She thought it might be that way, but after a few minutes, she was even more confused than before. Then she saw a tree that looked pretty familiar, but walking towards that didn’t seem to take her the right way either. She kept going anyway in a blind panic.

One of the most basic rules when you’re lost is to stay put and let others find you. But Maddie was three years old, and her stomach rumbled, and she was suddenly scared by thoughts that went much deeper than fearing the scolding she’d get for running off from her sister. They were made up of the fading light, and trees that suddenly looked menacing, and that Maddie was just a tiny blip that the preserve had no trouble swallowing whole.

***

Unable to reach Jim by phone, Trixie took Katy and Andrew by the hands, and the three of them fairly flew down the path to Jim’s school.

By the time they reached Ten Acres Academy, the sun had almost completely set, and somehow, it was the lack of light more than anything that threatened to disrupt Trixie’s hard-won calm. It was dark; therefore, Maddie should be with her. The fact that she wasn’t made her feel as if the earth had suddenly tilted, and her knees shook as she constantly corrected her balance.

There was no need to panic, she kept telling herself. No need at all. Maddie could be with Jim; it could be that easy.

Only it wasn’t.

The look on Jim’s face when she asked him if he’d seen their youngest daughter spoke volumes, and Trixie felt as if all the air had suddenly left her lungs. It was her fault; she had made the children go outside, wanting to be alone with her anger. What kind of mother was she?

She must have articulated the thought aloud because suddenly Jim was there and his arms were tight around her, his voice saying, "We’ll find her. She couldn’t have gotten very far."

She had gotten further than either of them could have imagined, and as minutes relentlessly began to slip into hours, the search party made up of the older students, family, and friends steadily widened their pursuit; going further and further away from the school and deeper into the preserve.

Trixie had no idea how far she and her search partner, her oldest brother Brian, had walked. Her arms and legs were sticky with sweat and dust as they hiked up and down the trails, her throat growing hoarse as she repeatedly called Maddie’s name.

The preserve, normally a place of peace and of beauty for her, was sinister; a monstrous labyrinth that was keeping her precious daughter from being found. Trixie’s panic steadily grew; she had managed to suppress it for a while, but the longer the search was unsuccessful, the more it crept back until it began stealing her breath and her strength.

She stumbled to a stop on the trail, her knees buckling.

Her oldest brother Brian steadied her. "I’ve got you," he said, and Trixie tried to thank him, but the words wouldn’t come. She knew that Brian was there to help find his niece, but she also knew that he was there for another reason.

He was there in case Maddie was hurt; Maddie might be hurt, and it was those two words that had no place together in Trixie’s world, "Maddie" and "hurt", that finally overcame her. She pushed her startled brother away; it couldn’t be true. It couldn’t.

***

DamnStupidMutt knew he had to get away from the human chasing him.

THE MAN had taught him, and taught him well, that avoidance was the best policy when it came to these volatile creatures.

And yet, there was something about this one that stirred up old longings.

A day had finally come when THE MAN pulled over on a quiet, tree-lined road, cursing a flat tire. DamnStupidMutt saw the opportunity and took it, leaping through the open car door to freedom and running as fast as his sturdy little legs would let him.

He couldn’t let himself be caught now, even if he was tired and hungry.

And lonely.

DamnStupidMutt paused and risked a look back. The human had also stopped and was rubbing her eyes, making a small sound that filled DamnStupidMutt with wonder.

The human was much smaller than THE MAN. DamnStupidMutt crept closer and took a cautious sniff.

Ancient memories surfaced; DamnStupidMutt remembered a comfortable bed, warm rooms, and softer voices that never yelled.

This human smelled like home.

DamnStupidMutt couldn’t stop the small, happy bark that escaped him, and he instinctively took a few steps back as the little human stopped rubbing her eyes and peered through the darkness in his direction.

"Doggy?" he heard her say.

DamnStupidMutt backed up further and then stopped as he remembered his advantage under the cover of darkness. He allowed himself a deeper sniff and felt a proprietary instinct fill him; a feeling of protectiveness and caring that THE MAN hadn’t completely eradicated.

This human was scared, and she needed him. He knew he could take care of her and barked in greeting to let her know, wagging his stump of a tail as she took a few tentative steps towards him, and he towards her, and maybe, he hoped, towards home.

***

Brian was no stranger to hysterical and worried parents and had been trained to handle similar situations. He had a pretty good idea what his sister was thinking; he loved his little niece dearly, and the thought of any harm coming to her was unbearable. He shifted his medical bag to his left hand, praying that they were both wrong.

"We’re going to find her, and it’s going to be okay," he told her, putting an arm around her shoulders and hugging her to his side.

Trixie stopped struggling and felt herself start to crumple as the fear and exhaustion finally overtook her. "You don’t know that," she said, her voice breaking.

Before Brian could reply, his two-way radio crackled to life.

"This is Regan. No sign. We’re expanding northward. Out."

Trixie had straightened as the report came in, filled with hope, and then sagged as she realized it wasn’t the news she was hoping and praying for.

Brian, anticipating, spoke firmly. "She’s a little girl; she couldn’t have wandered far. We haven’t been searching long. We will find her, Trix. Every student at the Academy, everyone nearby that we could reach; they’re all looking for her. It won’t be much longer."

Trixie nodded, but tears ran down her pale cheeks. "But what if someone has found her, Brian? Her biggest fear, the one she’d been holding back ever since she first found out that her youngest daughter was missing, broke through the last of her defenses.

This fear was always in the back of her mind when she and her partner Honey successfully completed some of their more dangerous cases; it was this fear that kept both she and Honey from having any pictures of their families in the offices of their detective agency.

Overcome, she dropped her head onto her hands and wept.

Brian held her, helpless, knowing exactly what she was driving at. He knew that both Trixie and Honey took precautions in their line of work to safeguard their families, but there was only so much that they could do. There were plenty of people from their past who would be only too happy to take advantage of a situation just like this.

If someone had Maddie, none of them would ever get over it.

Not that, he prayed. God, not that.

Close by, Jim was experiencing his own turmoil. He’d already dismissed the theory that an undesirable from Trixie’s past had found his daughter and made off with her, mainly because he simply refused to believe it. Instead, he worried greatly that his little girl was cowering somewhere in the dark, afraid and alone.

And hurt, a treacherous voice whispered.

Jim successfully pushed that thought away, but was unable to stifle the voice as it continued with, and it’s all your fault, your fault, your fault.

How many times in the past few weeks had he been "too busy" to spend time with his children?

He’d been too busy all right, dwelling on a past that could never, ever change.

And earlier tonight, he’d known exactly where the sore spot on Trixie’s psyche was, oh yes, he did; he knew just how to touch it, and none too gently.

He knew that after all this time, Trixie still sometimes wondered if he would be happier with a woman more like his birth mother; a woman who stayed home and claimed no other career besides that of homemaker and mother.

He knew it, and he was always quick to reassure Trixie that this was not the case.

Even though it sometimes annoyed him when Trixie thought that way—what was he, a liar?—he told her that it wasn’t true, that he loved Trixie because of who she was, not in spite of it.

Liar, liar, he thought, suddenly exhausted. Even though nothing could be further from the truth, deep inside, Trixie must be thinking that after the way he’d behaved.

Jim shook his head. He’d fix it, somehow, but right now, the best thing he could do for all of them was find Maddie.

Cupping his hands, he called her name for the umpteenth time, but once more, the only reply was the distant bark of a dog.

Despair consumed him. Where was she?

***

Maddie was terrified. She’d finally caught up to the doggie, and he wanted to be her friend, she could tell.

And she was glad because it was scary in the dark; she was so tired, and hungry, and lost.

But before she could reach the dog, the ground beneath her gave way, and she fell into a deep hole, her cry abruptly cut off as she hit bottom, knocking the breath out of her.

Unable to cry out, she lay there, gasping, rocking back and forth, silent tears muddying their way down her face.

Too late, she remembered how Daddy always told them to stay put if they ever found themselves alone in the preserve. How it would make it much easier for him to find her if she found a nice, dry place to wait for him.

If she waited for him, he would come. He promised.

She had disobeyed. She had gone into the woods without permission, and she had run. She hadn’t waited for him to find her.

Agony filled her small frame, and she opened her mouth to wail, but again, she was unable to make a sound, she was unable to articulate the only word that seemed left to her now.

Lost.

Katy had begged so hard to be included in the search that her parents had relented, letting her go with her Grandma and Grandpa Belden while Andrew, confused and sobbing, stayed at the school with Jim’s trusted, live-in office manager.

Katy and her grandparents carefully picked their way through their section of the preserve, calling and calling for Maddie, but the only reply was the slight breeze ruffling through the trees and the occasional call of an owl.

Katy’s legs grew very tired and her head began to ache, but she kept quiet, not wanting to distract her grandparents, or cause them to call off their search to take her back.

She was hungry, too, but these were minor discomforts when compared to the way she was feeling inside, guilt and sadness forming a ball inside her stomach in equal measures.

None of this could be happening, but it was.

Katy half-expected to wake up and find herself at home in her bed, Maddie pestering her to get up and watch cartoons with her. This all had to be some kind of nightmare, plodding in the dark, calling her sister’s name, clutching her grandfather’s hand. It was incredibly spooky here in the preserve at night, hearing the occasional whoosh of birds’ wings and the rustling sound of branches rubbing together. She could only imagine how alone and scared Maddie must be; shy, quiet Maddie with her big, blue eyes and blonde hair that always had to be pulled back into a ponytail because Maddie hated the feeling of hair on her cheek or forehead.

Was she crying? Did she know that her family was looking for her?

Katy began to cry herself, silently. She, Katy, had failed her.

Her grandmother’s voice filled the silence. "Katy, sweetheart, how are you doing? Are you getting tired?" Before Katy could answer in the negative, Grandma Belden continued, "Don’t worry. We’re not going to let anything happen to your sister."

Like I did, Katy couldn’t help thinking. A tiny sob escaped her, and Grandpa Belden squeezed her hand. "You know, your mother sure felt terrible, years ago, when your Uncle Bobby wandered off while she was in charge of him." He squeezed her hand again and finished, "But he turned up. And Maddie will, too."

Katy sniffled. "Were you mad at Mommy when that happened?"

Her grandfather picked her up, then, and she let her head nestle against his shoulder, as he replied, "No, honey. Your grandma and I were worried and upset, just like your parents are right now, but we were never mad."

"Nobody’s mad at you, baby," her grandmother added.

Katy felt the truth of her grandmother’s words ease the ache in her throat and tried to stop thinking about her parents’ stricken faces. Just before she left with her grandparents, she’d seen her mother cry, and the sight of it had felt like an electric wire jolting her.

Determination filled her. They would find Maddie, and she, Katy, would be a perfect big sister from now on. She would never get impatient when Maddie wanted her to get up earlier than she wanted to and never again would she tell her to go away when she was trying to read. She hoped God believed her.

She squirmed down from her grandfather’s embrace and grabbed his hand, giving it a tug.

Without a word, the three of them resumed their search, Grandma Belden sweeping the high-powered flashlight she held from side-to-side. Katy thought it was odd how everything looked gray in its light.

Suddenly her grandmother stopped and focused the beam. "Peter? Do you see something?"

Katy trembled with excitement as they drew closer, following the beam of light until Grandma Belden murmured, "Oh. It’s a dog."

A small, sturdily-built, salt-and pepper-colored dog lay sleeping next to a pile of leaves and twigs. As the light caught his face, he stirred and raised his head, letting out a series of barks as he spotted them.

As much as Katy longed for a dog (she and Maddie had recently began to execute a carefully orchestrated plan that mainly consisted of dropping casual remarks that they hoped would culminate in a trip to the animal shelter), she couldn’t help slumping in disappointment. Still, she automatically bent down and held out her hand for the dog to sniff, just as her father had taught her, as the excited animal dashed up to her.

The dog gave a few sniffs and then wagged his tail, giving her hand a friendly lick. Katy, in return, gave his head a few pats before he trotted back to his pile. He resumed barking, his body lifting completely off the ground with each woof.

"Well, we may as well take the poor thing with us; he’s friendly enough," Grandma Belden said with a sigh. She could tell by the dog’s neglected coat and lack of collar that he was no doubt a stray. She patted her knee and called, "Come here, boy!"

The dog came to her willingly, but then immediately dashed back to the pile of twigs, laying on his stomach next to them and arching his hindquarters.

Grandma Belden snapped her fingers. "We’ve got bones at home, Fido. Come on!"

To her annoyance, the dog ignored her command and began to paw furiously at the pile, twigs, leaves and dirt scattering in all directions.

Katy could tell her grandmother had had enough when she lifted her hands and let them drop. "Don’t have time for this, doggy." She flicked the flashlight towards Katy, who had crept nearer to the dog and was getting dirt all over her shoes for her trouble. "Come on, sweetie. Let’s go." She glanced down at the dog, and then an odd look broke over her face as she stared where the dog was digging.

Katy followed the direction of her gaze and let out a gasp.

Revealed in the murky glow of the flashlight amid the debris was something very familiar.

For a moment, the three of them could only stand still, then Katy’s grandmother carefully leaned down and picked up the small tennis shoe, instantly recognizing the cheery laces decorated with ladybugs that she herself had bought for her granddaughter.

Grandpa Belden caught Katy’s arm as she lunged forward. "Careful!" he said, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. Holding her hand tightly, he inched forward, sweeping the ground with his foot until he jerked with surprise as his foot sank downward.

The dog growled a warning, but Katy’s grandfather ignored it, sinking to his knees. "Helen, see if you can call him off," Grandpa Belden said. Their own ancient setter, Reddy, was putty in his wife’s hands.

While his wife called soothingly to the dog, Grandpa Belden began to sift through the fragments that he could now see were most likely placed by man, not animal. A trap of some kind, no doubt. He soon let out an exultant cry, his voice choked with emotion. "My God, Helen, I see her! She’s down there!"

His wife sank down next to him; cuddling the dog at her side as he let out a loud woof that seemed to say, "Well, sure. What took you so long?"

The three of them dug out handfuls of dirt, and, then, Helen straightened, remembering her two-way radio. She attempted to call to the others, but could only get static. "I don’t think it’s working," she exclaimed in despair as her husband carefully lowered himself into the pit they’d uncovered. Luckily, it only came up to mid-chest. He bent down and was out of view.

"I don’t think she’s hurt, thank God," she heard him say.

Katy burst into tears as her grandfather reappeared, holding Maddie in his arms. He carefully handed the little girl to his wife before pulling himself up and out.

Katy watched as Grandma Belden cuddled Maddie close. Maddie was filthy, completely covered with dirt, and she had a few obvious scratches on her arms, legs, and face. Her hair was wild around her face, and Katy found herself wishing for a hairbrush.

Katy’s grandmother handed the radio to her husband and then reached out her arm to draw Katy into her side.

Katy, overcome, could only wrap her hand around Maddie’s ankle and bury her face into her grandmother’s hip. She could hear her grandfather unsuccessfully try the radio once more, almost smiling as she heard him, most unusually, say a word that was very forbidden in her house.

Then, she had a thought.

She pulled away from her grandmother and, tilting her head slightly back, startled both of her grandparents very much when she whistled as loudly as she could, over and over, Bob, Bob-White! just as her mother had taught her to do if she was ever in trouble or needed somebody to come.

They all heard an answering whistle in the distance, then another, and another, from all directions.

Maddie lifted her head from her grandmother’s shoulder for a moment before letting it drop back down.

Katy laughed for joy and whistled again, knowing that soon, her parents would come. They would come, and everything would finally, finally be all right.

***

Maddie was found; she was alive; nobody had stolen her; she wasn’t hurt. Trixie didn’t know what to do with the mixture of relief and love that filled her so completely that she was sure she’d burst with it at any moment.

She doubted that she’d ever forget the moment the familiar whistle reached her. Her legs had completely given way, and Brian had actually had to carry her for a few endless moments until her heart had started beating again, bringing the blood to her legs so that she could run run run to where her oldest daughter stood, head bent back, her long, reddish-gold curls streaming over her shoulders, whistling over and over. To where her father stood holding her precious and very dirty Maddie until he gently lowered her into Trixie’s eager arms.

And, now, a few days later, it was hard to believe that anything so life altering had ever occurred when the sun shone so brightly in a cloudless sky, and they were all together again as they always had been.

With one notable exception: Maddie had stopped talking.

From the shock, Brian said, and the child psychologist that Dan recommended they take her to had concurred.

"A day or two more in familiar surroundings should help," Dr. Gracer told them.

She also told them that it was important they not force the issue, and it was this advice that Trixie had the hardest time following, stifling the urge to gather Maddie up and beg her to just say one word.

It was odd how the silence of such a quiet, little soul like Maddie could be so deafening.

And, to Trixie’s troubled mind, accusing.

They were all having a picnic in the nice, shady area of their backyard. Jim and Trixie had hardly slept the past few nights and were content, for once, to simply sit and rest on the deck swing while the kids played.

Trixie shaded her eyes and watched as Katy showed both Maddie and Andrew how to throw the ball for Bernie, who tore after it as fast as his little legs could carry him, his excited panting mingling with Andrew’s shouts.

The little dog seemed to feel that Maddie was his special responsibility, and Jim, who was no match against two little girls, one mutely pleading with her eyes, one very vocal, readily accepted the newest addition to the household, going so far as to name him Bernard after the rescuing mouse in a Disney film. Andrew was only able to manage "Bernie," and the name instantly stuck.

"He’s sure making himself at home, isn’t he?" Jim commented, rising to check on the burgers that sizzled on the grill. He flipped them before returning to sit by Trixie’s side.

"Sure is," Trixie agreed. They sat together, watching their children play in silence for a moment until Trixie abruptly said, "Jim, I’ve been thinking."

"Uh oh!" The smile that had started to form died as Jim saw how serious Trixie looked. "I’m sorry. What have you been thinking?"

Trixie took a deep breath. "I’m thinking about disbanding the agency."

Jim was shocked into complete silence. Finally, he said, "What?!

"Maybe everything that’s happening is God’s way of telling me I should stay home."

Jim put his hands on her shoulders. "Trixie, I thought we decided that what happened is nobody’s fault. Didn’t we just spend the entire night going over this? And, anyway, I’m the one who has been in a funk lately. I’m the one she was trying to find, when I should have already been right there with her."

Trixie’s attempt at a smile didn’t quite make it. "Hey, didn’t we just spend the entire night going over this?" she tried to joke, but her voice cracked, betraying her. It was true. She and Jim had not slept the evening before, the words pouring out of them in turn as the night finally waned into an early morning dawn, almost as if to make up for the complete lack of words coming from their youngest daughter. In that soft light, in Jim’s arms, his voice in her ear telling her she wasn’t to blame, it was easier to believe.

But now, she wasn’t sure. And, even though she knew it was silly and wrong, it seemed like making a deal with God was something she could do, a way to help Maddie.

"I wish you’d stop blaming yourself," Trixie sighed.

Jim shook his head. "Ditto. I guess we’re quite a pair."

"I suppose we are." Trixie gestured towards the grill. "I think they’re done."

Jim glanced at the grill before turning back to his wife. "No, they need a few more minutes. And, anyway, you’re not changing the subject that easily. I’m not letting you do this to yourself. You’re not disbanding the agency, and that’s that."

Trixie’s anger flared. "That’s that?"

Jim recognized the signs of World War III, but this was too important to back down from. "Trixie, please. I know how upset you are, but this isn’t a solution."

"Feels like one to me!" Trixie said, her voice heated. "If I want to disband the agency, it’s nobody’s business but my own." She thought about her partner and felt sick, but forced herself to keep going. "I know Honey will understand."

"Should I close my school down, too?"

"Of course not!" Trixie snapped.

"But closing down your agency is the right way to go, is that it?"

Trixie automatically looked for the children as their voices rose, hoping they weren’t in earshot. As her eyes lit on them, she abruptly felt the fight drain out of her. "I don’t know," she said in a small voice. She was just so tired.

Jim pulled her close. "We’re going to get through this, okay? The doctor said it’s just a matter of time." He felt Trixie nod against his chest. "And, anyway, God doesn’t work like that. Sometimes, stuff just happens, and all we can do is deal with it. That agency is part of who you are." Jim closed his eyes briefly and allowed himself to wish one more time that what was so important to Trixie, and to his sister, Honey, wasn’t also potentially dangerous. He shook off his temporary indulgence and kissed the top of Trixie’s head. "No more crazy talk, okay?" he said the last part in a teasing voice that he hoped would make Trixie smile.

"I think the burgers are burning," she murmured, nestling into him. She wanted badly to believe that Jim was as right about God not working that way as he was about the agency being a part of who she was.

"Crap!" Jim exclaimed, pulling away from Trixie to rush over to the grill. The burgers were perfect, and he shot a look at Trixie as she smiled and said, "Gotcha."

Honey stared at her for so long that Trixie began to squirm. "Well, aren’t you going to say anything?" Trixie finally asked, chewing on her thumbnail to avoid looking directly at her best friend.

Honey rose from her desk, a movement so purposeful that Trixie felt herself inwardly flinch. "I cannot believe I am hearing this," Honey replied, after a long, tense moment, her voice both even and low.

Trixie began to stammer a reply, but Honey, most uncharacteristically, cut her off. "This is complete bullshit."

Trixie almost laughed – Honey very rarely used profanity. But the expression on her best friend’s face quickly killed the impulse. "I’m sorry, Honey, but it’s just something that I have to do."

Honey crossed her arms. "And the hell with me, is that it?"

Despite Honey’s continued use of what she generally referred to as ‘swear words’, Trixie felt about as far from laughing as she could possibly get. "No! God, no! I thought you’d understand why I have to do this!" Trixie hadn’t been sure what kind of reaction she’d get, and thought she’d prepared herself for anything, but suddenly realized that Honey’s anger wasn’t something she could deal with.

Honey shook her head. "No. I don’t understand this at all. And you know what? The answer is no. You’re not doing this."

Trixie gaped at her sister-in-law. "What do you mean, no? Don’t you get it? I have to do this! I have to be there for my child! Honey, I love you, and I feel absolutely horrible about this, but Maddie has to come first. You’d do the same if this had to do with Matty!" Her words tumbled like rocks sliding down a hill, her breath coming in hitches. Nothing was working out like she thought it would.

Honey’s face softened and her eyes filled with tears at the raw desperation in Trixie’s voice. But it was important not to back down, especially now. If being Trixie’s friend for all these years had taught her anything, it was the gift of simply hanging in there and not moving when Trixie was on this kind of roll.

"Trixie, if I thought for a moment that disbanding the agency would help Maddie, don’t you think I’d do it? Maddie’s my niece, and I love her!"

"You’re not her mother," Trixie said flatly.

Honey’s lips tightened. "No, I’m not. But I am a mother. And guess what; I know a little something about guilt and how it can screw you up."

Trixie scrubbed her face with the heels of her hands. "I don’t know what the hell I’m doing," she admitted, looking lost.

"Have you talked to Jim about this?"

Trixie simply nodded.

"And what did he have to say?"

"Um…he pretty much had the same reaction that you’re having." Trixie appeared to sink a little into her desk chair.

Honey had no difficulty imaging how that conversation must have gone. Had the situation not been so dire, she would have been hard pressed not to laugh. Instead she bent down and gave Trixie a hug, her anger evaporating in the face of Trixie’s misery. "Trix, take all the time you need. I can handle the agency for right now. Anyways, we don’t have much going on at the moment. Just don’t make any hasty decisions; don’t do something that you’ll…that we’ll regret." She pulled back and looked steadily into her friend’s eyes. "Okay?"

Trixie’s gaze held hers for a moment before skittering away. "I don’t know." She stood up and started pacing in the large office they shared. How many times had the two of them sat in this room, brainstorming their way to answers? She wished there was some kind of answer now, but she wasn’t even sure of the question.

"Do you trust me?"

Trixie stopped and looked at her business partner. "Yes," she answered simply. That was an answer that would always belong to the both of them.

"Then don’t do this. At least, don’t do this today."

Trixie bit her lip and found herself slowly nodding. First Jim and now Honey! And yet, there was a part of her that understood that this was a time to let go and trust.

Honey sighed and sat back down.

"How is Maddie doing today?"

Trixie sat down too, and rubbed at her eyes again. "Hon, I just don’t know. I mean, she still hasn’t spoken a word, but she’s starting to sleep in her own bed again. Her doctor keeps saying ‘give it time’, but…it’s just so hard. I want things to be like they were before."

Honey nodded. "Of course you do." Trixie was such an action-oriented person that Honey shouldn’t have been surprised by her wish to disband the agency. Trixie’s response to any kind of trouble was always to barge forward and take charge. It was both her most annoying, and most endearing, trait.

If only there was something productive that Trixie could do. Honey had a thought. "Hey…with everything that’s happened, we haven’t talked about "Operation Memories." I have an update for you."

Despite herself, Trixie felt a tiny flare of interest. It wasn’t like her to give up on something that met so much to her. Then she felt an unwelcome pang of guilt. How could even think about working on a case at a time like this?

As if reading her mind, Honey continued, "Trix, I know you think you should be focusing 100% on Maddie. And I’m not saying that you shouldn’t. I just hate seeing you so…helpless."

Trixie hated the word "helpless" and was momentarily annoyed to have this word associated with her until she realized, with a pang, that it perfectly described how she was feeling. She thought about the search for Jim’s memories, and felt the old determination fill her, nudging the helplessness aside. As usual, her best friend knew her too well! "Did you get anywhere with your list?" she found herself blurting before she could stop herself.

Honey knew better than to smile and merely shook her head. "No. I visited every single place on my list that was still in business, too. Trouble is, they either don’t keep records that far back, or weren’t around then."

Trixie nodded; it wasn’t entirely unexpected. "I know," she sighed. "I’ve eliminated several from my list too, the exact same way. I’ve got a handful left, but…" she trailed off, lifting one shoulder and letting it drop.

"They’re worth checking out. I’ve never known you to give up on anything before, and I know you won’t now." Honey responded. "And I know Dan hasn’t completely eliminated his list. I just talked to him the other day, and he mentioned that he had a few to go. So, you never know."

Trixie felt a smile begin to tug at the corners of her mouth, the stiff feeling of it making her realize that it had been awhile since she’d had anything to smile about. She gave herself a mental shake; on some level she knew that wallowing in guilt wasn’t what Maddie needed, nor was it going to make Jim stop dwelling. At any rate, she knew she had to try. She glanced at her watch and rose. "I have to get back. Maddie’s got a doctor’s appointment this afternoon."

Honey stood, giving Trixie another hug. "I’ll take care of everything here."

Trixie closed her eyes. "Thank you." She meant it for so many things and wished she had her brother Mart’s gift for words.

Honey squeezed her tightly before letting her go. "Don’t worry about a thing."

Trixie had no reply for that, leaving with a wave. She didn’t make promises she wasn’t sure she could keep; she wasn’t about to start with her best friend in the world.

***

Trixie tried to shrug off the idea that because the Second Chance Pawn Shop was only a few blocks from Dr. Gracer’s office that it was a sign. But she couldn’t stop thinking about her earlier conversation with Honey, and so the idea had crept in and taken root—so much so that she managed to talk Jim into letting her take Maddie to her appointment without him. A mother-daughter outing, she had called it.

It wasn’t a lie. She and Maddie were mother and daughter, and they were definitely having an outing! It just wasn’t what Jim probably pictured, feeding the ducks in Central Park or having sundaes at Serendipity.

Trixie squirmed a bit, but couldn’t deny that working again was giving her spirits a lift. Honey had nailed it on the head when she used the word helpless. Dr. Gracer seemed optimistic, especially at hearing that Maddie’s sleep patterns had returned to normal, but Trixie longed for the sound of Maddie’s voice as she had never longed for anything before.

She looked down at her daughter now, giving her hand a squeeze. "Do you want to run an errand with Mommy before we go home?" she asked.

Maddie nodded, and Trixie felt her heart give a squeeze. Don’t push she reminded herself for the umpteenth time.

Trixie glanced at the map she’d downloaded. It was only a few blocks, and there was a nice breeze, the sun soft on she and Maddie’s faces.

They soon found themselves in front of an older building. Trixie was relieved that it wasn’t dark and crumbly, like so many of the other places she’d visited from her list, or she would have immediately turned around. On the other hand, pawnshops could be such desperate places; maybe she should just take Maddie home.

Second Chance my butt—thought Trixie as she stood outside the establishment. She and Maddie stood still for a moment, gazing at the large, front window filled with various items, including, to Trixie’s sudden amusement, a large pair of leather boots. These, however, didn’t have a monogram.

The thought of that long ago mystery in Saratoga made her smile inwardly for a moment until an uncharacteristic weariness overtook her. On that occasion, she and Honey had reclaimed Regan’s riding boots and restored them to their rightful owner. Trixie seriously doubted that any of the previous owners and the various paraphernalia she spied in the cases and shelves that lined the shop’s walls would ever be reunited.

What am I doing here? she wondered, her mood darkening.

This particular pawnshop definitely wasn’t as seedy as some of the others she’d visited. Seeing how well lit and clean this one was, she changed her mind about returning later and took Maddie inside, holding tightly to her hand.

No buzzer or bell heralded their arrival, but the man standing behind a long glass display counter glanced over at them and gave a brief nod before returning his attention to the computer in front of him.

Trixie moved toward him, but before she could clear her throat, she felt a slight tug. Glancing down, her heart leapt at the animated expression on Maddie’s face.

"What is it, Pumpkin?" she asked, remembering just in time the doctor’s advice and keeping her tone light and calm.

Maddie didn’t reply as she had hoped, but rather she pointed towards something at her eye level, giving her mother’s hand another tug.

Trixie hunkered down and saw immediately the large, china dog that must have caught her daughter’s eye.

"Help you?"

Trixie straightened at the sound of the clerk’s voice. "Yes, I’d like to speak with the owner, Thomas Delancey."

The man behind the counter shook his head. "Actually, he’s been dead for years. I’m Gary. I manage the place for Mrs. Delancey."

"Your listing," Trixie began.

"Yeah. Mrs. Delancey would never let anyone change the name," the man said with a shrug. He glanced down at Maddie who was staring, enraptured, into the display case, and his voice became brisk. "Just got that in. It’s a real antique, circa 1850." He broke off and aimed a smile at Maddie. "You like that, huh?" When Maddie failed to reply, he glanced at Trixie. "Doesn’t talk much, does she?"

Trixie’s reply was short. "She’s shy."

There was a brief silence that Gary broke. "Was there something I could help you find?"

How about some peace of mind, Trixie thought. She gave herself a mental shake and vowed to stay focused. "I left a message some time back about looking up old sales records. I haven’t heard back from anyone, and I was in the area, so I thought I’d come by."

Gary’s eyes narrowed. "You with the police? Because if you think we deal in stolen goods here, you are barking up the wrong tree."

Trixie shook her head and reached into her purse, extracting one of her business cards, handing it to the man behind the counter.

"Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency," Gary read aloud.

When the FBI Give Up, We Take Over, Trixie couldn’t help mentally add and almost smiled.

"So, what’s this all about? We run a clean ship here."

"I’m sure you do. In fact, I’m counting on it. I need to know how far back your sales records go." Trixie inwardly cursed the note of fervor that crept into her tone. She didn’t want this guy thinking she was some kind of lunatic.

"Well, if you’re talking computer records, this goes back to 1997," Gary said, giving his PC a pat, his tone much less hostile.

Trixie shook her head. "No, what I need goes back much further than that."

"How far are we talking?"

"1985," Trixie replied, without much hope.

A thrill shot through her when he unexpectedly replied, "Yeah, we got that. Hold on." To Trixie’s surprise, he first knelt and slid open the door to the display case, retrieved the china dog and gently placed it on a piece of velvet on the counter. "Maybe your little girl would like a closer look," he said, before going into the back.

Trixie picked Maddie up and warned, "Look, but don’t touch, okay? It’s very old."

Maddie looked at the dog while Trixie surreptitiously studied her. Maddie’s face held only simple pleasure and wonder, and Trixie felt the usual love fill her.

Trixie turned her head and kissed her daughter’s cheek, making deliberately loud kissing noises as she did so.

Maddie giggled, and Trixie closed her eyes, luxuriating in the lovely sound of it.

Trixie had no idea where the quote was from that popped into her head, but she thought it fit. "I love you so much, Madeleine Diana Frayne. Did you know that? Did you know how much Mommy loves you?" she whispered.

Maddie just smiled and looked down shyly, her eyes blue as the summer sky, and in that moment, Trixie knew that she’d give up everything she possessed in a heartbeat just to hear Maddie say one word.

"You can start with these," Gary said as he emerged from the back, two large and slightly dusty ledgers in his hands. "Mrs. Delancey always insisted on keeping detailed records," he said as he plunked the two volumes down. He shook his head, "Mrs. D," he rolled his eyes. "She never throws anything away."

He pushed one in front of Trixie, who eagerly flipped open the book with one hand only to groan, both at the small, faded writing and the sheer volume of entries.

"Can you narrow down the date?" Gary asked.

"Kind of. I mean, I think I probably know, give or take a week, but I don’t really know." Trixie knew she was babbling like an incompetent fool and she set Maddie down, blinking hard. This guy must think I’m a complete moron.

Gary took a quick look around. "Look, it’s pretty dead in here. Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll help you out?"

Trixie almost felt undone by this unexpected kindness. "That would be great." She gave an edited version of Jim’s dilemma, finishing with, "I know it’s a long shot that there’s even a record of a sale, let alone a way to find those pictures, but I had to give it a shot."

Gary, whose longest relationship was with the New York Yankees, looked at her as if she as nuts, but his voice was almost kind. "You take this book and I’ll take the other one."

Trixie quickly skimmed through her volume, keeping one eye on her daughter, who was currently mesmerized by a display of wedding rings, her other on the long rows of dates, figures, and descriptions. She was almost to the end, her eyes burning, when she let out a gasp. "Oh, my God, it’s here! This must be it!" She read aloud, "Sterling silver album, April 12, 1985, twenty-five dollars paid to G. Jones."

"How do you know it’s the right one? It could be anybody’s album, really."

"G. Jones, and the date falls into the right time period." She kept reading, "Sold, one-hundred dollars, and there’s some kind of reference code. This is unbelievable!" Trixie couldn’t stop the tear that dropped onto her cheek as she rummaged in her bag and pulled out a notebook and pen. "This must be the customer record number here; there’s no name, but a sale is indicated." She broke off and looked at Gary expectantly.

Gary looked uncomfortable. "Whoa. I don’t know about this. I’m not supposed to release customer records unless it’s to the police or something. I could get in a lot of trouble for this. I mean, I probably shouldn’t have even let you look at the sales records in the first place, you know?"

When Trixie started to protest, he said, "Letting you look at the sales records was bad enough. Come on, lady."

Trixie didn’t cry, but she couldn’t stop herself from pleading, "Please; I’ve come this far. It would mean so much. Please!"

Just then, a woman emerged from the back, carrying another ledger. "You forgot this one. What are you up to, anyway? Are you finally going to enter these into our database like I’ve been trying to get you to do forever?" Her hair was gray and cut very short around an unsmiling face marked with heavy lines, especially across her forehead.

Gary shifted, shoving a hand into his pocket, suddenly resembling a schoolboy about to be lectured by the principal. "It’s nothing to worry about, Mrs. D."

Mrs. Delancey’s reply was pert. "Doesn’t look like nothing to me." Her eyes first fell on the open ledger in front of Trixie, then lighted on Trixie’s face. "What’s going on? If there’s trouble in my shop, I want to know about it right away."

Before Gary could utter a word, Trixie burst out, "Mrs. Delancy, I’m not trying to cause any trouble, please believe me. I’m just trying to trace something. This album," she finished, turning the book to face the older woman, her index finger marking the spot. "It’s very important that I talk to the person who bought it. It belonged to my husband’s mother."

Mrs. Delancey seemed about to speak, and Trixie hurried on, "I don’t care about the album, really, and I’m not interested in money. There may have still been pictures in it, and they’re all my husband has left of his parents." This last part came out in a heated rush.

Nothing even remotely this interesting had ever happened at Second Chance before. Gary was clearly caught up in the moment. "Come on, Mrs. D! What could it hurt? Let’s give her the name."

Mrs. Delancey shook her head, and Trixie’s heart fell. To be so close!

"It wouldn’t do any good," Mrs. Delancey began.

Trixie’s voice was urgent. "You never know. The album is very valuable, I’m sure it’s still in the family of whoever bought it."

Mrs. Delancey shook her head again, the lines in her forehead deepening. "It’s not that, young woman. That’s not what I mean. Those pictures that you speak of…" She broke off for a moment, her expression odd as she looked at Trixie, who held her breath.

"They don’t have them," she finally finished.

Trixie didn’t understand. "Don’t have them?" she repeated. "How do you know?"

Mrs. Delancey unexpectedly flushed, and Trixie finally found a name for the look on her face: shame, with a little guilt thrown in for good measure.

Trixie sighed, the disappointment heavy in her stomach. "Oh. I see." She tried to smile. "I knew it was a long shot. I figured that even if I did trace the album, there was a very good chance that the pictures were simply thrown out." Despite her best efforts, her eyes filled with tears, and the love she felt for Jim in that moment was so acute it hurt. "There was no reason for anyone to keep them."

Mrs. Delancy was silent for a long moment. "No. There wasn’t. And yet…somehow, I just couldn’t seem to do it."

Trixie went very still, feeling her own heartbeat accelerate. She stared at the older woman. "You mean…" she started to stammer, but found she was too choked up to go on.

"Wait here." And with that, Mrs. Delancy disappeared into the back room. Trixie could hear her footsteps going up what must have been an out of view staircase.

Gary looked in the direction his boss had taken, a look of perplexity on his face. "Wow. This is…this is just plain wild."

Mrs. Delancy soon returned, a dusty shoebox in her hand. She looked at Gary who was still standing in the same spot. "Don’t you have anything to do? What the hell am I paying you for, anyway?"

Gary’s look of puzzlement melted into an almost relieved grin; clearly, this was familiar territory. "Right," he murmured. He returned to his computer and began tapping the keys.

Mrs. Delancy cleared her throat, and Trixie was suddenly struck by this older woman who, in spite of her gruffness, clearly understood life’s pains and unexpected turns. "I don’t know how to thank you," Trixie said.

Mrs. Delancy shrugged. "These may not even be what you’re looking for." She set the box down, and both women leaned closer as she lifted the lid.

The first thing Trixie saw was a picture of Maddie. She was vastly confused for a moment—how could a picture of her daughter be in this box, in some stranger’s possession—until she realized she was starting at a photograph that must have been taken many years before Maddie was born.

She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until it whooshed out of her with a gasp, startling her.

"Are these the ones?"

Trixie barely heard the other woman, she was so enraptured. She turned the photograph over and read aloud, "Katje Vanderheiden, age 3." The picture blurred, and Trixie blinked several times.

Mrs. Delancy shrugged. "Well, I can tell by your reaction that they are."

Trixie glanced up in time to see something flicker behind the other woman’s eyes. "Yes," she replied, simply. She began carefully looking through the box, her heart swelling with joy as Jim’s history appeared before her. She found a picture of a tall, red-headed boy, his arm around a much smaller blonde girl and knew without looking at the back that it was Jim’s parents; impossibly young and looking into the camera without an inkling of what the future would bring. And there was Jim as a baby; Jim taking his first steps, his arms raised, hands clutching at a much larger pair of hands. Each picture felt like chapters in a book that Trixie could never get enough of reading.

She finally finished, gently placing the lid back onto the box. "How much?" she asked Mrs. Delancy.

Mrs. Delancy shook her head. "Take them. They don’t belong to me."

"Oh, but I couldn’t possibly," Trixie began.

The older woman shook her head again. "Take them," she repeated. She picked the box up from the counter and held it towards Trixie, who took it in careful hands.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," Trixie said, cradling the box against her.

"Welcome."

Trixie hesitated, but her naturally curiosity, as usual, won out. "May I ask why you kept them?" She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Gary was only pretending to continue his data entry.

Mrs. Delancy looked annoyed for a moment before her face softened into an expression that was both embarrassed and resigned. "You know, I’m not really sure. In this business, you learn what should be kept, and what should be tossed. It made no business sense at all to keep these pictures. There was no profit to be made. No value." She sensed that Trixie was about to offer to pay for the pictures again and lifted her hand for a moment. "But somehow, I just couldn’t throw these away. It was…it was unfair."

Trixie nodded, a feeling of warmth stealing through her entire body. Mrs. Delancey would never let anyone change the name, she remembered Gary saying when Trixie had questioned him about the shop listing. Death didn’t have to erase someone’s name, or his existence, not as long as there was somebody to remember him, somebody to preserve what his life meant.

"Your husband must have been a fine person," Trixie said, smiling gently at the other woman.

Mrs. Delancy nodded. "He was. And once, we were as happy as they were," she said, nodding towards the box. "But that was a long time ago." She seemed surprised by the lone tear that snaked along the crevices in her cheek, swiping at it with the back of one rough hand. "Well, if there isn’t anything else, I need to get back to work," she said, her tone at once brisk. She stared for a moment at the hand Trixie extended before giving it a quick shake.

"Actually, there is one more thing," Trixie said, looking down at her daughter who, bored with the displays, had returned to lean against her mother’s leg, yawning. Trixie gestured towards the china dog still sitting on the counter. "How much for the china dog?" She smiled when she felt Maddie wriggle against her.

Mrs. Delancy’s eyes lit up. "Oh, well, now that’s a real antique. Very valuable."

Trixie nodded. "Valuable. Yes, I’m sure it is."

Chapter 7

In the Crabapple Farm dining room, Trixie’s mother finally looked up from the spread of old photographs in front of her. "I can’t believe you found these," she marveled, looking at her daughter with an expression that could only be described as awe.

Trixie reddened, but couldn’t deny the rich feeling that only a mother’s praise could evoke. "I can hardly believe it myself," Trixie replied.

"Keeping those pictures for all these years..."

Trixie nodded. "I know." She picked up her favorite picture, one of Jim’s mother caught in the act of brushing a kiss on the top of baby Jim’s head, a perfect, frozen moment of motherly love. She studied it for a moment before gently laying it back down. "You’re so good at this stuff, Moms," Trixie said, waving her hand over the pictures and the leather album she had picked up at Crimpers. Once she’d stole away to her office and spread all the pictures in front of her, she’d had a moment of complete and utter panic until she remembered her mother’s new hobby.

Mrs. Belden smiled. "Flattery will get you everywhere, dear." She studied the photographs for a moment. "I think we should keep it very simple; sort the pictures into the best chronological order we can, and then mount them onto the pages with photo corners. How does that sound?"

Trixie laughed. "It’s your show, Moms. I don’t even know what photo corners are!"

Mrs. Belden smiled. "You will."

Moms, always a marvel of organization, had the photos sorted in no time. Trixie quickly learned how to lay the small, leather corners onto the page and tuck the photos into them without bending or wrinkling the precious picture, although she couldn’t do it as quickly as her mother.

The time flew as the two women worked side by side. Trixie stole a sideways glance at Moms, watching as her mother hummed a little under her breath, clearly enjoying herself. It was always like that with Moms; with everything she touched, with every undertaking. Moms did everything so well that it seemed absolutely effortless.

There wasn’t anything worth doing that Moms couldn’t do, and do well.

Trixie gently finished placing a picture of Jim’s father teaching his son how to ride onto the page, and then it hit her. Trixie was momentarily stunned as the realization sank in.

Hmmm…I always thought girls were supposed to marry their fathers! she thought, wryly.

"Jim’s going to be knocked out of his socks when he sees this," Mrs. Belden predicted, breaking into Trixie’s thoughts.

Trixie leaned over and hugged her indispensable mother, closing her eyes. "I hope so," she whispered, thinking about Jim’s loss as if for the first time, aching inside. "Thanks for all of your help, Moms."

"You’re welcome, sweetie, but you know, I really do enjoy this."

"I know, but thanks anyway." Trixie straightened, giving her cheeks a quick swipe. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Mrs. Belden smiled gently at her. "You would have figured it out, baby."

Would she have? Trixie wasn’t entirely sure. Involuntarily, she remembered that long ago day when her mother told her that she had breast cancer, and, for the umpteenth time, she thanked God that her mother was spared.

Trixie tucked the completed album into her briefcase; it would be much easier to smuggle it into the house this way, before bidding her mother goodbye.

***

A summer storm blew in, and much to Peeves’ disgust, Bernie spent most of the day indoors. He wasn’t sure what possessed his family to take in this noisy, fuzzy creature, but, since it appeared he wasn’t leaving anytime soon, Peeves felt it was his duty to instruct the infidel of his place in the world—to wit, the rules The House of Peeves.

They were as follows: 1) Under no circumstances was the infidel to sniff and/or lick the entity known as Peeves; 2) Under no circumstances was the infidel to breech the perimeter around the food bowl in ownership of the entity known as Peeves; and 3) whenever possible, the infidel must avoid breathing in air that the entity known as Peeves might be using.

There would have been more, but Peeves was fair; apparently, by some obviously random fluke, this creature participated in the safe return of one of his family members. This, he felt, albeit reluctantly, did earn some concession. He hoped the infidel appreciated living.

He also hoped that the paw swipe he was forced to bestow across the infidel’s nose helped him with his clear understanding of the way things had to be. Peeves hated having to repeat himself.

Peeves had his priorities.

The door leading from the outside into the kitchen opened, and Peeves inwardly rolled his eyes as Bernie streaked towards it, yelling, "Somebody’s coming in the house and I’m so happy and excited about it, hurrah!"

Of course, what the humans of the house heard was, "Woof! Woof! Woof!"

Humans were such limited creatures.

When Peeves saw that it was Trixie who entered the house, he did what any self-respecting Cat in Charge should do.

Trixie bent down to pat an excited Bernie, her eyes cutting over to the corner of the large kitchen where Peeves stood calmly in front of his food bowl, loudly meowing. Most humans completely missed the nuances of the language of animals, but this one didn’t do too badly.

Trixie wasn’t completely fluent in Feline, however, so she missed the part of the message that ended with, "…and get rid of this loud infidel while you’re at it."

"Didn’t Katy feed you?" she asked, slinging her briefcase onto the table.

Katy walked into the kitchen, but before Peeves could coach her, piped up, "Yes, don’t believe him, Mom!"

Peeves walked out of the kitchen, his tail straight up. Somebody’s pillow needed to be clawed.

"Where’s your father?" Trixie asked, stealing a glance at her briefcase.

"He’s giving Maddie and Andrew a bath. And he told me to tell you…" Katy broke off and closed her eyes for a moment. "The patties are shaped, but the salad isn’t done because your children decided to jump in a mud puddle." Katy opened her eyes, clearly pleased with herself. "I jumped over the puddle."

Trixie laughed and ruffled Katy’s curls. "Then I guess you get to help me make the salad and set the table."

All throughout the lively dinner, Trixie could barely eat. And to think she had toyed with the idea of saving the pictures for Jim’s birthday in July! She’d never survive that long. She picked up her can of strawberry soda and wasn’t surprised to see her hand trembling.

"Anything wrong?" Jim asked.

Trixie glanced across the table, feeling the hated flush bloom on her cheeks. Honestly, it was beyond irritating the way she couldn’t hide anything from that man! "Nope," she said, taking a large drink of soda.

Jim looked at her a moment before rising. "I need to take care of a few things at the school that I wasn’t able to get to before. If I hurry, I should be able to get back before the storm picks up again."

The din in the cozy kitchen increased as Katy and Andrew all clamored to go with him. Maddie joined in by tugging hopefully on her father’s sleeve.

Jim held up his hands. "Whoa! Can we keep the noise down to a dull roar?" he mock-pleaded. He smiled at his noisy children. "Next time, okay, gang? Daddy wants to make this really quick so he can come right back."

He made his escape while Trixie convinced them that she’d be too lonely with all them gone at once.

Trixie waited a few moments, wanting to be sure Jim was gone before swinging into action. "Katy-bird, I want you to take your brother and sister into the next room and read to them for a bit so I can clean up the kitchen lickety-split. I have a surprise for Daddy, and I want it to be ready when he gets back."

Katy’s face lit up with excitement. "A surprise? What is it? I want to see!"

"Sprise! Sprise!" Andrew shouted, wrapping his arms around Trixie’s leg.

Trixie laughed. "You’ll see soon enough. Scoot, all of you!"

She quickly cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, humming to herself in anticipation. She felt alive with happiness, the nerves in her belly fluttering like restless butterflies at the thought of restoring Jim’s memories. Love for him swamped her, and she hugged herself, rubbing her upper arms as she felt the goose bumps prickle her skin.

She still had some wrapping paper left from Dan’s birthday present in the closet of the guestroom. If she hurried, she just had time to wrap the album… to make it a festive occasion that they could all share.

She thought about Katy, Maddie, and Andrew looking at the pictures, Jim explaining who the people in them were, and felt her eyes well up.

It was good. It was right.

She had barely gotten the album wrapped when she heard Jim come into the house, Bernie noisily announcing his arrival.

Nick of time, Trixie thought, scooping the book from the bed. She happily discarded the idea of wrapping a ribbon around it; she could never get them to turn out quite right anyway.

She started to walk out of the bedroom and stopped, a new thought filling her.

What would Jim say when he saw pictures he had long thought destroyed? Should she wait until the two of them were alone, give Jim a little time with the pictures by himself? And was wrapping it up the right thing to do?

Now that the time had finally come to give Jim his memories, Trixie felt oddly shy and unsure of herself. It suddenly occurred to her that surprises weren’t always good things.

Trixie groaned inwardly. As usual, she’d gotten an idea and run full tilt without once considering how Jim would feel about it.

Tricky business; Jim’s first family. Over the years, Jim had finally opened up to her a bit about his first set of parents, but he rarely talked about them. As he explained to her once, the missing never really went completely away; it could catch him off guard at odd and unexpected moments, filling him with an emptying sadness that was completely at odds with his full life.

These past few weeks had been tough on him. Not since she first met him had she seen such an active longing for the past in him.

And Jim blamed what happened to Maddie on this longing, blamed himself.

Trixie gulped and clutched the brightly wrapped package to her chest. What if instead of preserving his past as she had hoped, she was hurting his present?

"What have you got there?"

Trixie let out a squeal, dropping the book onto her foot. "You scared me!" she exclaimed.

Jim leaned into the doorjamb, smiling easily. "I thought you were up to something. You barely ate anything at dinner." He looked down at the present and then at Trixie. "You’re acting awfully jumpy." He noticed the tag with his name scrawled on it, and he smiled mischievously. "Is this something that can be opened in front of the…"

Jim broke off, very startled when Trixie gulped down a sob. "Hey!" he said, moving towards her. He lay a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

Trixie tried to laugh. "It’s nothing." She bent down and retrieved the package, her heart thumping miserably against her ribs.

Jim frowned and shook his head. "Don’t tell me it’s nothing."

Just then, Andrew charged into the room, throwing himself at his father. "Sprise for Daddy!" he yelled.

Jim scooped the exuberant little boy into his arms and kissed his cheek. "Is that right?" he asked, looking over at Trixie. If the children knew something about this, then it couldn’t possibly be bad. Jim was more confused than ever by Trixie’s behavior, and his concern grew.

Trixie squirmed; how familiar she was with Jim’s worry! She knew that she was acting strangely and didn’t blame him for thinking that something was wrong. Why was it that she always managed to complicate things?

She sighed and met Jim’s gaze with her own.

"Yes, that’s right," she said.

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Author Notes for Chapters 1-7:  Click HERE

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