Why Do Fools Fall in Love? Part One Author’s note: This story begins a new universe, Glimpses
into the Future. This future uni takes place after the original ending of “Keeping Up With
the Joneses” and after the stories in the “Boys
Will Be Boys” universe. So, Katie is dead, Jim was adopted by the
Wheelers, and everything happened just as the series said. The bulk of this
story occurs approximately 10 years after the Here and
Now Universe. So, Trixie, Honey, and Di are 25, Mart and
Dan are 26, Jim is 27, and Brian is 28.
Are you confused yet? Just wait till Bobby enters the picture…OY! Any
age discrepancies I will blame on the tainted timeline. The beginning of our future universe, eight
years after Trixie’s senior prom… Friday, July 23 “Great job, detectives!” Ralph
Keenan congratulated, shaking Trixie Belden and Honey Wheeler’s hands. “I appreciated
your help solving this case.” Ralph owned a profitable detective
agency in Los Angeles. He’d tracked down a deadbeat dad to White Plains, New
York and had enlisted the help of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency for
local assistance. Although Mr. Keenan looked the part of kindly, 50-ish
gentleman, he had a relentless streak about him that frightened criminals and
reassured clients. He didn’t stop until he got his man…or woman. “It was our pleasure, Mr. Keenan,” Trixie told him. “Let us
know if we can ever be of assistance again.” “I’ll do that,” Ralph replied. “I’m glad Hank recommended
you.” Hank Carpenter had been the private
investigator under whom Trixie and Honey had interned. He’d run a detective
agency for several years in White Plains. After Trixie and Honey had
graduated from the criminal justice program at Niagara University, they had
worked at Hank’s agency to gain the experience needed to obtain their PI
licenses. Hank had retired last year after a heart attack, but he still kept
in touch. When Ralph Keenan contacted him about help with this case, Hank
referred him to the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency, which the girls had
started once they had both turned twenty-five. “Don’t let the fact that they’re young and pretty dissuade
you,” Hank had told Ralph over the phone. “They’re two of the finest
detectives I’ve ever had the pleasure of training.” So, based on his friend’s recommendation, Ralph contacted the
Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency and enlisted their help. And he hadn’t been
sorry. Though they met the age requirement by the skin of their teeth,
Beatrix Belden and Madeleine Wheeler were old pros at solving cases. After
doing some detective work of his own about his prospective investigators,
Ralph had learned that while they were teenagers, the young ladies had
cracked some high profile cases. Often, they had solved the whole thing
themselves before the authorities could figure it out. Ralph wasn’t disappointed with their performance during this
case. Beatrix and Madeleine were good. They knew their stuff. The fact that
they were young and pretty only helped them in the business, he thought.
Ralph grinned, remembering how the little blonde had coerced information from
the deadbeat’s friend. It was something he never could’ve done, that was
for sure. In his opinion, Beatrix and Madeleine were wasting their time in
this small town. Ralph
retrieved a business card out of his suit jacket’s pocket and slapped it down
on Trixie’s desk. “If you ladies ever move to Trixie beamed proudly from the compliment. “Thank you, Mr.
Keenan,” she said. “I’m glad you felt confident enough to ask for our
services. We only opened our agency recently, so we’re trying to build up our
reputation.” “Don’t worry, ladies,” he assured them. “As talented as you
both are, you’ll have no trouble finding clients. Of course, the work might
be more exciting and plentiful where I am. Detectives are a dime a dozen in
New York City, and your services aren’t needed very often in a small town
like Sleepyside.” “Thank
you again for the kind offer, but I think we’re happy here,” Honey replied,
watching Trixie out of the corner of her eye. Was that unrest she saw in her
friend’s eye? “Aren’t we, Beatrix?” “Uh, yeah,” Trixie hesitantly answered. She nonchalantly put
the business card inside the top drawer of her desk in a safe spot. “Oh, I’m sure you have a lot of exciting cases around here,
as well,” Ralph said as he gathered briefcase. “But the offer still stands,
if you ever change your mind.” “What kind of cases do you get?” Trixie inquired curiously. “We get all kinds,” he answered. “We do the standard PI thing
of investigating cheating spouses. But the majority of our work is more
exciting. We track down men who are delinquent on their child support or
alimony, as we did in this instance. We help locate criminals who’ve escaped
from prison or jumped bail. We have a few detectives who are specialized in
corporate matters, and they do a lot of anti-fraud work. We help people find
kidnapped or missing loved ones. We work for families of murder victims
tracking down the killer. Sometimes, the family wants a separate
investigation from the police to track down any leads. And we also work with
law enforcement officials when our help is requested. It’s never a boring
job, that’s for sure.” “Sounds exciting,” Trixie murmured, avoiding Honey’s stare.
“We mostly get calls about cheating spouses.” “Like I said, give me a call if you’re ever looking for a
job,” Ralph said, walking out the door. Later that day, after lunch… Honey neatly placed the fat folder they’d started for their
most recent case back in the filing cabinet by her desk. She glanced over at
her curly-haired friend, who was staring holes in the ceiling. “Hello? Earth to Trixie? Do you see a
cobweb that our cleaning lady missed?” Trixie looked at Honey with feigned hurt. “Hey, I’m the one
that does all the cleaning around here.” “Like you’re known for your dusting prowess,” Honey teased
good-naturedly. “I’ve watched you dust, Miss Belden. A lick and a promise
were your specialty, and that hasn’t changed.” Her expression sobered as she
noted that Trixie was deep in thought. “What’s wrong, Trix? You’ve been quiet
ever since Ralph left this morning.” “Oh, I don’t know, Hon,” Trixie answered with a heavy sigh.
“I’ve just been kind of down lately.” “Why? What’s bothering you?” Trixie shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t explain it. After all
the years I dreamed of opening our detective agency, you’d think I’d be
happier than I am. But, now that the dream has come true, it’s empty.” “Have you changed your mind about the agency?” Honey inquired
nervously. “No, not really. I love being a detective. I couldn’t imagine
doing anything else. Even though I thought it would be more exciting than it
is, I wouldn’t be anything else.” “It’ll just take some time to build
our clientele.” Trixie lifted her chin stubbornly. “I
know, but that doesn’t keep me from getting bored.” She absentmindedly picked
up a framed photograph of all the Bob-Whites from her desk. Although she meant to look at the entire
group, her eyes fell on a certain redheaded fellow. Her eyes grew wistful. “Maybe being a detective was only part of your dream,” Honey suggested softly, noticing where
Trixie’s gaze had wandered. “Maybe your dream feels empty because the whole
dream hasn’t come true.” Trixie hastily slammed the picture down on her desk. “That dream died a long time ago.” “It isn’t dead. It’s just sleeping.” Honey smiled and shook
her head. “I don’t care what either of you say, you still care deeply for one
another.” Trixie snorted. “Tell that
to Jim. I used to think he had special feelings for me, but now . . .” She
shook her head, leaving her sentence unfinished. “What happened between you two, anyway?” Trixie sighed and looked once more at the picture. Her eyes were
full of longing for the man who’d claimed her long so long ago. “I’ve told
you a hundred times, Hon. I don’t know.” She ran her finger over the familiar
face in the picture. “I always thought he was waiting for me to graduate high
school and then he’d get serious. But something happened after my senior year
of high school. We’d always gone to the movies or parties together when he
was home from college. But out of the blue, he brought home a girlfriend, and
I soon figured out that I wasn’t his ‘special girl’ anymore,” she continued,
her voice slightly cracking. “It just doesn’t make sense,” Honey
remarked. “Jim was crazy about you. A person can’t be so in love one moment,
and then be so remote the next.” Trixie wiped a tear with the back of
her hand. “Maybe he never cared about
me to begin with.” “I might not know why Jim changed, but
there’s one thing I’m sure of,” Honey began. “Jim loved you, and I believe he
still does. It’s why he’s never been able to settle down.” “You know, I always thought we’d end up
together someday,” Trixie commented. “It’s a mystery to me what went wrong.
And it’s the first mystery I haven’t been able to solve.” Honey crossed over to her best friend’s desk and gave her a
hug. “Sometimes love is the greatest mystery of all.” “And of course, that
would be the one that throws me,” Trixie sniffled. “Love bites!” Honey giggled madly, in spite of the woebegone expression on
her friend’s face. “Love doesn’t bite, Trixie. Well, unless you’re into that
sort of thing, that is.” “TMI, Honey Wheeler!” Trixie shrieked, sticking her fingers
in her ears. “ICK factor! I really don’t want to know what you and my brother
have been doing in your spare time.” “Brian doesn’t bite, Trixie!” Honey teased, happy to see her
friend return to her good humor. “He may nibble a bit, but—” “All right, let’s talk about something else,” Trixie
interrupted. “What do you want to talk about?” “Anything other than what we were talking about.”
Trixie shivered. “You know it grosses me out when you and Di moon over my
dopey brothers. I’ll never know what you two see in those goons.” “All right, then. Would you rather talk about what you’re
wearing to the party tonight?” Honey asked with a grin. The Wheelers were having a celebration
that evening in honor of the opening of Jim’s school. The building was
completed, the staff had been hired, students were enrolled, and school was
going to begin in a week. It was the culmination of all Jim’s hard work, and
at long last his dream would be realized. “Let’s see,” Trixie snorted. “What would I rather talk about?
Clothes or my best friend sucking face with my brother? Gee, that’s a tough call, but I’m going to
have to go with the clothes. And to answer your question, I don’t know what I’m
wearing.” “You have to wear something.” Trixie braced herself for the upcoming
eruption. “Actually, I thought about staying home,” she admitted. “You can’t!” Honey cried. “All the Bob-Whites will be there!
You know how important this is to Jim. Trixie, I know you’ve had problems,
but you can’t miss this. You’d break his heart!” It was on the tip of Trixie’s tongue to
point out that Jim had already broken hers, but she kept that to herself. “I
know, but I’m sure a certain person I don’t like will be there.” Honey nodded sympathetically. “Yes, she’ll be there. With
bells on.” “And probably hung from strategic locations,” Trixie said
cattily. “Now, Trixie, play nicely. Amanda isn’t that bad.” Trixie winced at the name. Amanda Woodward was Jim’s current
girlfriend. They’d been dating over a year now, much to Trixie’s chagrin. In
spite of Jim’s supposed intelligence, Trixie couldn’t help but think that he
was really dumb when it came to dating. “What’s that smirk for?” Honey demanded. Trixie leaned back in her office
chair and propped her feet on her cluttered desk, a Cheshire grin on her
face. “Oh, I was just thinking that for someone so smart, Jim’s awfully
stupid about picking a girlfriend. Amanda might be pretty, but she’s just
about the most annoying person on earth.” “Trixie!” Honey said in a scolding
tone. “There has to be something you like about Amanda.” “Well, I must admit that I like Amanda
a lot less than I liked the rest of
Jim’s girlfriends,” Trixie retorted. Honey giggled and threw a wadded-up piece of paper at her
friend. “Umm…Trixie, you haven’t liked any
of Jim’s girlfriends.” “I know, and I like Amanda even less than the rest of them.”
Trixie picked the paper wad out of her hair and tossed it into her already
overflowing trashcan. “I’m sorry but Jim has extraordinarily bad taste in
women,” she added with a sniff. Honey smiled knowingly. “Maybe you’ll have to rescue him from
the evil wench.” Honey, out of loyalty to Trixie’s secret feelings for Jim,
was the only other Bob-White to openly discuss her dislike Amanda. The rest
were at least attempting to get along with her and tried not to talk about
how the air-headed socialite got on their nerves. Trixie sat up in her seat and began pecking on her computer
keyboard, ignoring Honey’s comment. “If I were you, I’d come tonight and go out of my way to look
totally smashing,” Honey suggested brightly. Trixie looked up with her brows raised in a perplexed
expression. “Have you ever noticed that people often use violent terms in a
complimentary manner? Smashing? Striking? Drop dead gorgeous?” Honey shrugged. “So?” “Well, I don’t want to assault Jim. I
just wish, for once…well, never mind.” With a shake of her head, she turned
back to her computer. “What, Trix?” Honey prodded. “I get sick of being
called cute,” Trixie mumbled. “And I don’t like being called perky. But the
phrase that I really hate is that ‘I have natural beauty.’ That’s just a
cop-out. What they mean is that I’m not gorgeous like you and Di.” “Oh, Trixie,” Honey murmured sadly.
“You underestimate yourself. You’re very pretty—” “But I want more than that,” Trixie
interjected. “You want to look glamorous?” Trixie nodded sadly. Honey sighed as she studied her
friend’s forlorn expression. She understood Trixie’s deep-seated insecurities
better than anyone. Trixie rarely talked about her issues, but when she did, they
centered around the fact that she didn’t consider herself to be a blonde
bombshell. “Sometimes, it stinks being comfortable,” Trixie murmured.
Her thoughts went back several years ago to a dance in Iowa… Trixie
hesitantly entered the gymnasium at Riverdale High School. She glanced around
for her friends. She spied Honey and Di, surrounded by a crowd of smitten
boys. There was nothing unusual about that; her friends always had a crowd of
admirers around them. Some boys had also gathered around her; however, they
weren’t admiring her. They merely wanted to talk about basketball. She was
sure the boys around Honey and Di weren’t talking about sports. She absentmindedly
listened to talk about lay-ups and slam-dunks while she scanned the gym for
any sight of Jim…and her brothers, of course. She finally spotted the boys
among a crowd of some of the most attractive girls she’d ever seen. The prettiest girl
of all, a tall, slender blonde, hooked her arm through Jim’s and led him to a
secluded spot at a nearby table. Trixie’s cheeks burned as she watched the
blonde bombshell flirt with Jim. She kept waiting for Jim to politely, yet
firmly, ease out of her clutches, but to Trixie’s disappointment, Jim seemed
quite content to bask in the beautiful girl’s presence. Ned Shultz came
over and spoke to Trixie. She listened halfheartedly and tried to comment
when she could, but it was hard since she was keeping one eye on Jim and the
tall blonde. Her redheaded friend certainly was charming the Trixie’s blue eyes
grew wide (and turned a little green) as she watched Jim put his arm around
the blonde girl’s slender shoulders. She tried to concentrate on Ned, but as
handsome as he was, he couldn’t take her mind off of a certain couple across
the room. Ned asked Trixie to
dance. She agreed, sadly watching Jim hold the graceful blonde in his arms on
the dance floor. They moved perfectly with one another. Jim held her slender
form securely in his arms, her head only slightly lower than his. The blonde
was at least five-foot-eight, and in heels, she could almost look Jim evenly
in the eyes. Though Ned was an
expert dancer, he could not take Trixie’s mind off of Jim and the blonde
bimbo. She kept glancing at them, growing more and more furious by the
minute. She was overcome by a strange feeling. Could it be? Yes, it was—
jealousy. Ned was trying to
make conversation with Trixie, but she couldn’t hear a word he said. I just don’t care if I ever speak to Jim again in my life, she thought. When the band finished their
song, Trixie came face to face with Jim and the bombshell. They casually
talked for a minute, and Jim introduced Trixie to the girl. Dot? What kind of a name is that? Trixie thought with an indignant sniff, all the while keeping a
friendly smile on her face. If Trixie could hear Dot’s thoughts, she would
see that Dot was thinking similar things about her. “Next dance, Trix?”
Jim asked, flashing that lopsided grin that Trixie so adored. “Yes, Jim,” Trixie
said, putting her hand in his. Later, on the dance
floor with Jim, Trixie closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his
embrace. For a moment, all thoughts of the tall blonde disappeared, and she
was happy. However, when she thought she caught Jim glancing in Dot’s
direction, that happiness vanished. “Ned Shultz seems
to have the Indian sign on you,” she heard Jim saying. “And Dot seems to
have the Indian sign on you. You’ve been her slave all evening!” “Why, Trixie.” Jim
stopped dancing right in the middle of the floor and led Trixie to a bench at
the middle of the room. “You’re fooling!” “I’m not! If you like
that glamour type best, you’re just welcomed to her. I mean it!” “I like both
kinds,” Jim said. “Dot is glamorous. She’s really glamorous. She went out of her way to be
nice to me, and I appreciate it.” I’m sure she was! Trixie
thought with a smirk. She was angry that Jim so readily agreed that Dot was
glamorous. He may as well have said she was a homely old toad! “I
can see that you do,” she said out loud. Then she added wistfully, “Oh, Jim,
I wish I’d been born beautiful!” “The other kind of girl,” Jim went on as if he hadn’t heard her, “didn’t dress
up just to impress me or any other boy. She never does. She’s genuine and so
comfortable to be around. She’s my choice of the two. Right now her sandy
curls need combing, and she sure could use some lipstick!” For the rest of
the evening that comment made her feel better. She enjoyed the rest of the
dance and managed to erase thoughts of Dot out of her head. But later that
night, all her insecurities once again emerged. She began analyzing what Jim
had said. So, Dot is glamorous and
beautiful, and I’m genuine and comfortable? Comfortable?! Trixie repeated in her mind. Makes me sound like an old shoe! And
he didn’t deny liking Dot. And what did he mean by saying my hair needed
combing and that I needed lipstick? Liking two kinds of girls, indeed! Why,
it sounded as if Jim doesn’t like me at all! The rest of the
trip, Trixie battled her jealousy over Dot. She wouldn’t even admit to
herself how happy she was to finally be on the airplane, heading miles and
miles away from the Iowa beauty. Then, Jim had given her a silver ID bracelet
with his name engraved on it. After Trixie opened
the box, she smiled shyly at Jim. “It has your name on it, Jim. Put it on for
me, will you?” “You know what it
means, don’t you?” Jim asked. “Tell me,” Trixie
answered. “It means that
you’re my special girl, Trixie,” Jim said. “As if you didn’t know that
already.” But deep in her
heart, Trixie hadn’t known it. Yes, she knew that Jim thought
fondly of her. Their friends teased her that she and Jim were each other’s
favorites, but still, Trixie had doubts. Especially after seeing Jim with
Dot. After all, how could she compete with a girl like Dot? For a while, Trixie
was content to wear her bracelet, smell her orchids, and blush at fond
glances. But it wasn’t long until another tall blonde by the name of Laura
Ramsey came by and brought back all of Trixie’s insecurities. Trixie had to
admit that turning Laura Ramsey over to the police had given her a great
amount of personal satisfaction. As time passed, the
Bob-Whites seemed to couple off more and more. Mart and Di were the first.
Mart, never shy about his feelings, wooed the fair Diana, sweeping her off
her feet with his charm and blond good looks. Eventually, Brian and Honey
made their relationship more official. Dan, although the seventh wheel, so to
speak, was never deprived of female companionship. Most of the lovely young
ladies in Sleepyside were clambering for a date with the mysterious former
gang member. That left Trixie
and Jim to attend dances, games, and other activities together. Trixie was
pleased with how it worked out. This pattern continued even after Jim went to
college. Trixie knew that she could always count on Jim to escort her to a
dance or party. And there was no one with whom she would rather go. But then, it all
changed. Jim wasn’t able to be there for her senior prom. Tad Webster
volunteered to stand in, teasing her the entire night that maybe he could dye
his hair red so that she would have a better time. As sweet as Tad had been
that night, he was no comparison to Jim. Trixie had a fun time that evening
but could not help thinking that something was wrong. Jim
had returned weeks later with news of a girlfriend at college. He’d decided
to stay for the summer term, since Alison (the aforementioned girlfriend)
would be there, as well. At the mention of a “girlfriend”, Trixie’s world
started reeling. At one time, she’d been safe in the knowledge that while she
and Jim weren’t going steady, he hadn’t ever dated anyone else. However, that
ended with the mention of this Alison person. Trixie was left to wonder about
Jim’s whereabouts during her prom. Maybe he didn’t have a counseling session,
after all; maybe he was Alison all along. |
When she’d finally met Alison a couple of weeks later, a sense of
irony washed over her. Alison was a tall and had a model’s figure. She had
long, silky blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her personality left much to be
desired, but Trixie guessed Jim wasn’t dating her for her conversational
abilities. By the end of the
summer term, Alison was history, and Trixie was humming a victory anthem. She
abruptly choked on the next note when she saw Alison’s replacement. Brittney
was tall and willowy with long, silky hair the color of sunshine. However,
she had green eyes instead of blue. And her personality was even more
grating. No worries, however. A couple of months later, Brittney was a thing
of the past. Of course,
replacing her was another flaxen-haired, vertically-blessed beauty by the
name of Chrissy. Chrissy spent Thanksgiving break at Manor House. Trixie
thought for sure she would rather be deaf than hear Chrissy’s high-pitched
giggle and her endless prattling about “how Sleepyside was so inferior to her
hometown”, and “where, oh where, did one find a decent stylist in this hick
town?” All the Bob-Whites breathed a sigh of relief when Jim ever-so
gentlemanly kicked Chrissy to the curb. Exit Chrissy, enter
Darla. Or was Erica next? The stream of beautiful tall blondes seemed to mesh
together after a while. Trixie never liked any of them. Her only consolation
was that none of them ever lasted long. Until Amanda
Woodward. She was perhaps the most exquisite of them all. Her requisite
blonde tresses were always perfectly coifed and seemingly never in need of
combing. Her eyes were large and gray and perfectly spaced on her perfect
face. Her nose had surely been sculpted by a plastic surgeon, for Trixie was
sure that nobody was born with a nose that looked that good. She had generous
lips covering toothpaste-commercial quality teeth. And she was tall and very
shapely. Trixie suspected Amanda’s legs were as long as Trixie was tall. Not only was she
beautiful, she was intelligent, articulate, and seemingly friendly. She
possessed a great deal of tact and grace. She always seemed to say the right
thing at the right time. She contributed to charitable causes, and was
genuinely interested in Jim’s plans for the school. She had a flawless sense
of style, her outfits always looking smart and fashionable, even after a
three-hour ride in the car. In essence, she was perfect. And Trixie hated
her. All the other
Bob-Whites, save Honey out of devotion to Trixie, seemed willing to give
Amanda a chance. Their friends were relieved that Jim had finally found
someone with whom they could have an intelligent conversation, and were
trying to like her for Jim’s sake. Amanda appeared to enjoy their company as
well. So, Trixie gritted her teeth and waited for the music to stop and for
the next tall blonde to take Amanda’s seat. But now, a year later, she was
still waiting. While she waited
for Jim to suddenly come to his senses, Trixie dated occasionally. It seemed
Honey and Di were constantly fixing her up with someone. Brian’s medical
student friends, artists Di knew from the museum, good-looking strangers they
drug off the street… Mart called them
her one-hit wonders; Trixie went out with them one time, and then found some
excuse, no matter how laughable, to never go out with them ever again. Marcus had no
ambition. Steve wasn’t out-doorsy enough. Rick was very nice, but he didn’t
have green eyes. Craig was handsome, but he didn’t have any freckles. Chad
had red hair, but it was kind of carroty red and not dark and thick like… “Trixie?” Honey repeated, trying to get her friend’s
attention. “What did you say about being comfortable?” Trixie looked up and tried to remember what they had been
talking about. It didn’t take her long to remember; the topic was one she
pondered on a regular basis. “I want to be more than comfortable,” she
whispered. “I want to be Dot Murray-Laura Ramsey-Amanda Woodward beautiful.” “Trix, you are beautiful,” Honey said, with a big smile. “You just need some
confidence.” “No, what I need is a miracle,” Trixie
remarked dryly. Honey glanced at her watch. “It’s Trixie frowned. “Do I have to buy a fancy dress that’s
itchy?” “Probably,” Honey answered. “Do I have to get heels that will not only pinch, but also
will be a hazard to me and all those in my path?” “Most definitely.” “Do I have to carry around some stupid excuse for a purse
that won’t even hold my pistol?” “Possibly.” “They’re not going to put cucumbers on my eyes, are they?”
Trixie skeptically questioned. “I hate the cucumber-on-the-eye-thing.” “It’s likely.” “They won’t put fake, acrylic tips on my stubby nails and
sand them down evenly until my cuticles are bloody, will they?” Honey smiled sweetly. “Yes, that’s something you can look
forward to.” “They wouldn’t dare paint my toenails some ridiculous shade
of Pepto-Bismol pink, would they?” “That’s probably the shade the pedicurist will use.” “Roberto won’t fix my hair all fancy and then spray it with
so much hair spray that Hurricane Ivan couldn’t budge it, will he?” “That’s what he does best.” “Roberto won’t glob a bunch of mascara on my eyelashes, will
he?” Trixie looked truly frightened at the possibility. “You remember what
happened the last time I wore mascara. I thought my eyelashes were going to
be permanently melded together. It’s a miracle I can see today.” “I remember, he will, and they won’t this time.” “And why would I subject myself to such torture?” Trixie
moaned. “Because you love Jim, and you want to remove him from the
clutches of that high-class hussy?” Honey suggested hopefully. Trixie took a deep breath and thought for a moment. With a
determined nod, she replied, “All right. Bring it on. Good-bye comfortable
shoe. Hello glamour girl!” Credits: Be
sure to check out the outtakes on the Blooper Reel! I wasn’t going to include them, but since one of my very
favorite fanfic writers likes them, and I decided to include a few. Gotta
keep my favorite authors happy! Hopefully, these bloopers will inspire her to
write. How they could inspire
anyone, I don’t know, but I thought I would give it a try. J I
am a realist. I can’t help it. It’s in my genes. Blame my dad. Therefore,
being a realist, I can’t help but feel Jim would have definite issues that
might hinder him a bit in having a serious relationship. And being the type
of person I am, I can’t ignore those issues. I’m determined to face them head
on! Jim-baby is supple, honorable,
handsome, and can slide off clubhouse roof in a stealthy motion, but he’s not
perfect. Well, not quite. J
Don’t worry. I am not deserting my favorite
redhead. I am still a member in good standing of the Cult of Jim. J A
lot of Happy Valley was quoted in this story, without permission, I might
add. Do you think I’m really going to ask for permission now? *snort* I
probably should have become a profiler or something comparable since I am
obsessed with analyzing people, but instead, I’ve chosen to be a teacher and
write fanfic where I can analyze the dickens out of imaginary people who
never pay their bill. In my opinion, Trixie has a few insecurity issues
herself, and they will be popping up, as well. As feisty as she is, I just
couldn’t understand why she didn’t slug Jim after the Dot incident and the
comfortable comments. J
I’m not sure if I would have appreciated
being called ‘comfortable and genuine’ after hearing him talk about Dot being
‘glamorous.’ Of course, men look at things differently than we ladies do, and
looking back, Jim told me he wished he had never said that, so he has asked
me to explain what he meant about Trixie being ‘comfortable and
genuine.’ And I will. Eventually. J And yes, I have a few
issues myself, so that would explain why I am ‘issues’ crazy! I’m
ducking from all the tomatoes being hurled by the Nick Roberts fans. Yes, I
think Jim-baby could beat him up. J
But IMHO, Jim could take Tad Webster, too! Jim
is just too modest to say that. And I couldn’t help but always be suspicious
of Tad in the books. Maybe that’s because he reminded me of too many
ex-boyfriends. J
Ralph
Keenan and Hank Carpenter are figments of my imagination. I hope I got all
the requirements for becoming a licensed PI in New York correct. If I didn’t,
it’s my own fault. According to my astute editor, Kaye, Niagara University
does have a very good Criminal Justice program. My
apologies to those of you who share the names of Jim’s past girlfriends. I
chose them at random. Only two have significance, and only one will play a
major role in this story. Have you ever met one of those girls who only like
a guy after he’s taken, so she can have the thrill of stealing him from
someone else? Well, I knew a girl like that once, and I didn’t like her. J
So I took her first name and based my fanfic bad girl on her. And for
the record, she didn’t get MY man!
And also for the record, she wasn’t nearly as pretty as I’ve made her be in
my fanfic. But I had to make her fit the mold. J Elizabeth
Arden is a real salon, but I have no idea if Roberto works there or not. If
he does, tell him I said hi. Since I have never been there (although I do
dream about it!), I do not know if in fact they actually put cucumbers on
your eyes or use Pepto-Bismol pink nail polish. And I don’t getting tips put
on normally hurts, but I had a bad experience once. It felt like they
shredded my cuticles, then applied turpentine to what was left of them. And
finally, thank you so much to my wonderful editors, Kaye, Kathy W, and Cathy
W. I decided to cover all my bases I get Cathy W with a ‘C’, in addition to
Kathy W with a ‘K.’ If there are any other variations out there of (C)(K)athy
W that want to edit, e-mail me, and I’ll see what I can do. J Seriously, thank you ladies so much for your suggestions,
comments, and hard work! Big hugs to you all! Poor Kaye and Kathy deserve a
medal for keeping all my universes straight! But I am rewarding them in part
two of this story… |