Why Do Fools Fall in Love?

Part Six

Author’s note:

In Part Five, we learned the Bob-Whites’ reactions to Jim’s engagement. Needless to say, they weren’t happy. J Now our story fast forwards a month and we catch up with Trixie. What will she decide to do now that the man she loves is engaged to another woman? Grab some popcorn and a Pepsi and join us at The Cameo to find out…

Thursday, August 12

Trixie Belden grumbled as she applied colorful tabs to the manila folders on her desk. “Why do we need to do this again?” she asked Honey, as she inserted the tiny information cards inside the see-through windows.

Her tawny-haired friend looked up from the computer screen at her desk. “So we can find them easily when we look in the filing cabinet.”

“And what was wrong with the method we had before that?”

“Nothing, besides the fact that all the files were crammed into the cabinet in a haphazard fashion, information was repeatedly placed in the incorrect folder, older cases mysteriously disappeared under the mass of new ones…”

“Jeesh,” Trixie muttered, rolling her eyes. “No wonder you’re so lovey-dovey with my brother. You’re both neat freaks.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having a little order in one’s life,” Honey chided. “If we don’t organize our filing system now, years down the road, it’ll be impossible to find anything.”

Trixie shrugged, but had nothing to say.

“Today, people are too dependent upon computers,” Honey continued. “It’s always best to keep tangible records, in addition to the ones on the computer.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Trixie mumbled with a grin. “As if your family knows anything about business. I mean, your dad only made several million dollars by the time he was 30. Like that’s impressive,” she concluded with a snort.

Honey giggled. “You’re in a lovely mood today.”

“I just don’t like cleaning, even if it is just a filing cabinet,” Trixie retorted. “Hey, since this was your brilliant idea, why aren’t you doing it?”

“Because I worked on the filing cabinets yesterday,” Honey replied with a smile. “Today it’s your turn.”

Trixie sighed wearily, and tried to focus on the task before her. Soon, the sound of giggling distracted her. “What’s so funny?” she asked curiously.

“This poll on the Lucy message board,” Honey explained. “It asks, ‘Which male character in the Lucy books would you most want to go out with: Tim, Ryan, Mark, Don, or do I have to pick just one?’”

Trixie bounded out of her seat by the filing cabinet and peeked over Honey’s shoulder. “Who’s winning?”

Honey scrolled back up to the top of the thread. “Looks like the ‘Can I only pick one?’ is slightly ahead, followed by a dead-heat tie between Tim and Don.”

“Which one would you pick?” Trixie questioned, a saucy grin on her face.

“Why, Ryan, of course!” Honey gushed with a breathy sigh. “Tall, dark and handsome gets me every time!”

“You’re so predictable,” Trixie teased, with a roll of her eyes.

“Like I even have to ask who you would pick!” Honey needled.

Trixie sighed dreamily. “Tim, Tim, Tim! In my humble opinion, there can be no other man for Lucy besides the luscious Tim Frame.”

“Well, for Lucy, I agree that Tim’s the man. But my favorite is Ryan,” Honey said, clicking on the “Ryan” option. “Of course, since Lucy and Ryan are brother and sister, they can’t be paired. But I think Ryan and Buffy make a nice couple.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Trixie agreed with a half-hearted shrug. “Can I vote?”

Honey smiled wickedly. “Not on my computer. Get on your own.”

“Tsk, tsk, Honey Wheeler,” Trixie jokingly scolded. “Denying me access to your computer, because you know I’m not going to vote for Ryan.”

“It’s not that,” Honey replied, looking up from the posts. “I already voted, so if you vote on my computer, it won’t count. You have to do it from your own user account.”

Trixie stuck her tongue out at Honey. “All right then, I will.” She sat at her own desk and quickly got online. Soon, she was immersed in the world of Lucy.

After skimming the posts, placing her vote and giggling madly over the male-harem suggestion, Trixie regretfully returned to the world of restoring order to the filing cabinets. However, Honey’s intermittent giggles often distracted her from her chore.

Curiosity finally winning, Trixie looked up from her task. “What’s so funny now?”

“Still reading those posts,” Honey chuckled. “I really like this Tammy! She’s a smart gal!”

“Another devoted fan of your darling Ryan?” Trixie inquired, returning to her filing.

Honey nodded and continued reading.

Trixie sighed dramatically. “Don’t you have anything else to do besides browse the Lucy board? It’s hard for me to concentrate with your giggling.”

“Sorry,” Honey replied sheepishly. “Actually, there isn’t anything for me to do. I finished up that background check earlier this morning, and until a new case comes in, we’re twiddling our thumbs.”

“No new jobs have come in?” Trixie queried incredulously.

“Not yet. But Daddy mentioned that one of his friends had some work for us to do.” Suddenly, a thought popped in Honey’s mind. “Have you talked to Hank lately? Maybe he’ll throw some more work our way?”

Trixie rattled some papers nervously. “Uh… I haven’t talked to him.”

“Oh,” Honey replied, picking up on Trixie’s anxiousness. “Well, I’m not worried. Daddy told me he needed us to do some work for him soon. He said he’d be calling us later this week.”

“Great,” Trixie muttered under her breath. “Just what we need. More background checks and résumé verifications.”

“It pays the bills, Trixie,” Honey tactfully reminded her friend.

“Our cases were more exciting when we were kids!” Trixie exclaimed, angrily slamming down the folder she was holding. “The only interesting thing we’ve worked on recently was that case for Ralph Keenan.”

“We’ve had some exciting jobs,” Honey said in a voice less than convincing.

Trixie rolled her eyes and scooped up the files from their latest cases. “Oh, really? Let’s take a look, shall we?

“Case 032. Client Ruthie Kettner Mundy. Mrs. Mundy fears her husband, Lester, is having an affair with Jane Morgan. She requested our assistance verifying said suspicions. Synopsis?

“After weeks of stakeouts, the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency concluded that Lester Mundy was indeed spending a great deal of time at the home of Jane Morgan. Not only were these visits lengthy, these visits occurred during what would be considered ‘unusual’ hours. However, after a nasty confrontation with Mr. Mundy, the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency learned that he was at Ms. Morgan’s house doing repairs for her, as a means of earning money for Mrs. Mundy’s birthday gift. Ms. Morgan’s live-in moochy boyfriend, Mack, provided an indisputable, albeit lurid, alibi for Ms. Morgan, whereby exonerating Mr. Mundy of illicit actions. After reporting our findings, Mr. Mundy became angry with us for ruining his surprise, and Mrs. Mundy became offended because we ever doubted her faithful husband. Case closed.”

Honey giggled nervously. “Well, that case was kind of odd, you have to admit…”

“Case 033. Client Matthew Wheeler,” Trixie replied in a businesslike tone. “Mr. Wheeler requested the services of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency to investigate the résumé of a prospective employee. Said applicant, a supposed Yale graduate, attempted to procure a position in the conceptual design advertising department of Wheeler Enterprises, and had many recommendations from various highly regarded design and publicity firms. Synopsis?

“Said applicant’s résumé and diploma were found to be fraudulent,” she continued. “In addition, said applicant’s actual expertise with computers only included playing role-playing games, surfing the web for porn, and creating nasty computer viruses to send to his ex-girlfriends. Said applicant’s only experience with advertising was printing out flyers for a ladies’ mud wrestling tournament his fraternity had held. Said applicant, now former applicant, I might add, egged MY car and sent the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency a specially-made virus, unprotected by Norton, MacAfee or Mickey Mouse, which in turn wiped out our system. Case closed.”

Honey grinned sheepishly. “Good thing we had all the information for our cases stored in our filing cabinet, huh?”

Trixie merely rolled her eyes and continued. “Case 034. Client Rachel Martin. Ms. Martin called the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency to her home immediately, asking us to investigate a missing person. We sped to Ms. Martin’s home, received a ticket on the way from my ex-boyfriend—”

“The rookie cop,” Honey interrupted. “The one-hit wonder with the so-so grin…”

“Yes,” Trixie affirmed in exasperation. “We raced to Ms. Martin’s, the cop with the so-so grin gave us a ticket, and then when we arrived at Ms. Martin’s, we learned the ‘missing person’ was, in fact, her cat, Mr. Winky. Synopsis?

“Haunted forever by that annoying do-gooder streak, we crawled under Ms. Martin’s house in an attempt to flush out Mr. Winky. After two hours on our hands and knees, Ms. Martin yelled to us that Mr. Winky had been found, procreating with the dainty Siamese down the street.”

Honey scrunched up her perfect nose in consternation. “That was pretty bad. The knees of my brand new dress slacks got ruined that day.”

“What’s the world coming to? Madeleine G. Wheeler, heiress to the Wheeler and Hart fortunes, worried about a pair of pants she bought at J.C. Penney’s for thirty bucks!” Trixie concluded with a snort.

Honey stifled a giggle. “They actually cost forty dollars. And I really liked those slacks. They were Villager brand. That’s a subsidiary of Liz Claiborne, you know.”

Trixie dramatically tipped back her head, gently touched her forehead with the back of her hand and then flung herself to the floor. “Say it’s not so! Sleepyside’s wealthiest socialite, Madeleine G. Wheeler, stooping to the level of subsidiaries?! What would the Rockefellers say?”

“You goof,” Honey laughed. “You know I’m trying to be self-sufficient and not rely on Daddy’s money.”

“I do know that,” Trixie replied, gathering herself up and reclaiming her seat. “That’s why I’m worried about our lack of cases.”

“It’s a slump. Daddy said all new businesses go through them. He’s certain that business would pick up in no time.”

Trixie picked up a pencil from her desk and began absentmindedly tapping it against the filing cabinet. “Do you think we made a mistake opening the agency?”

Honey gasped. “No, of course not! It was our dream!” She glanced at Trixie hesitantly. “Do you think it was a mistake?”

Trixie sighed deeply. “Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe.” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “I don’t know what I think.”

“You’ll feel better when more work comes in for us to do,” Honey soothed.

Trixie shook her head slightly. “I don’t think so, Honey. For the most part, the cases we get aren’t the kind I want.”

“What do you mean?”

“I still feel like a kid, eavesdropping on everybody,” Trixie answered forlornly. “I don’t want to snoop on husbands who are secretly earning money for their wife’s birthday present, or chase down a cat that needs a good neutering! I want excitement, danger, adventure! That’s why I became a detective. Not to get my car egged by some psycho computer nerd.”

“What we do is important,” Honey pointed out. “It may not be glamorous, but these things need to be investigated.”

“I know, but I’m bored of the jobs we’ve been getting,” Trixie complained. “I feel like Andy Griffith.”

“Andy Griffith?” Honey repeated in a confused tone.

“Yeah. I feel like the small potatoes sheriff in Mayberry that spends all my time watching the town drunk wander in and out of the unlocked cell.”

Honey began giggling madly. “Does that make me Barney Fife?” She gave a big sniff and swagger. “Nip it. Nip it in the bud.”

Trixie smiled, but could not muster the strength to laugh.

“Can I carry a bullet in my shirt pocket?” Honey asked hopefully.

“Sure, although I doubt you’ll need it, unless that whacked out computer geek comes back,” Trixie grinned.

Honey tittered in delight. “And Miss Trask can be Aunt Bea, and Jim can be Opie. I saw a picture of Jim when he was small, and it looked just like Opie Taylor.”

Honey began waving her hands as another silly thought hit her. “Oh, I just remembered! Ron Howard also played the little brother in ‘The Music Man’, a character who was named Winthrop!” she added excitedly, raising her golden-brown brows for emphasis.

“But Jim didn’t look like a teenaged Opie,” Honey continued thoughtfully, “because Ron Howard got kind of homely as he got older, and Jim’s definitely not what you’d call homely, at all. So Jim isn’t Ron Howard-Ritchie Cunningham-era. Just Ron Howard-Opie Taylor-era. And ironically, Ron-Howard-Winthrop-era. But definitely not Ron Howard-director-era.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Are you finished yet? You’re Honey-speaking, dear.”

“And Di can be Ellie, because I always thought she was so pretty. You remember Ellie, don’t you? She was that girl who worked in the pharmacy and dated Andy for a while? And Di kind of looks like her, don’t you think? And Brian can be that anal Howard guy… What was his last name?”

Trixie nervously cleared her throat. “So I was thinking—”

“And Mart and Dan could be Goober and Gomer,” Honey prattled on. “Although, they’ll have to flip a coin to see who’s who. I have a feeling neither of them will want to be Gomer.”

“—about taking that job that Ralph Keenan offered us.” Trixie held her breath anxiously, waiting to see what kind of affect her words would have on her best friend and business partner.

Honey’s Mayberry spiel ended abruptly. Her mouth gaped, but no words came out. She practically fell out of her seat from shock. “What did you say?” she asked after a pregnant pause.

“I’m thinking about moving to California and taking the job that Ralph Keenan offered us,” Trixie repeated.

“Move to California?” Honey repeated weakly. “Leave Sleepyside? The agency? Your family? Your friends?”

Trixie nodded, too afraid to say a word.

“Why?” Honey inquired, the hurt obvious on her face.

“Because if I don’t, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. I need to run away for a while.”

Honey raised a light-brown brow in speculation. “Trixie Belden does not run away. Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?”

Trixie looked sadly at her. “I’m not joking, Hon. I need to leave Sleepyside.”

“How do you know Ralph still has a position open?” Honey asked, obviously hoping that there was no job waiting for her.

“I talked to him last week,” Trixie admitted. “There’s a job waiting for me, if I want it. Ralph knows some people who know some people, and they’ll help me get my PI license in California.”

Honey stared blankly, as she took in all this information. After Trixie’s words sunk in, she looked at her friend forlornly. “Are you serious, Trix?” she questioned, her chin quivering.

“I’m afraid so,” Trixie affirmed. “I can’t stay here like this, Honey. I’m not happy.”

“Is it me?” Honey asked timidly. “Am I a bad business partner? Do I suck as a detective?” She began sniffling as the tears began to pool in her hazel eyes.

Trixie silently stood and walked over to Honey’s desk. She knelt down and hugged her best friend. “It’s not because of you, Honey. You’re the best partner I could ever hope for. In fact, you’re the only reason I’ve stayed as long as I have.”

“What’ll I do without you?”

“I’ll still maintain my partnership in our agency,” Trixie explained. “I’ll send part of my paycheck from California to help with the bills. The position Ralph offered me is quite lucrative. Eventually, I could become a partner in his firm.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Honey protested. “I mean, what will I do without you here, as my best friend?”

At those words, Trixie began crying in earnest, as well. Ever since they met, they hadn’t gone longer than a week at a time without seeing one another. Although they had both been accepted to several different colleges, the girls had gone to Niagara University together, even sharing the same dorm room. Being apart for the first time in twelve years would be difficult. The two women wept in each other’s arms for a long while, until Trixie pulled away.

“I won’t be in Zimbabwe,” she managed through her tears. “We’ll still talk every day through e-mails, texts, and IMs.”

“It’s not the same,” Honey argued. “Trixie, you’ve been my best friend for over twelve years. You were the first real friend I ever had. I don’t want things to change.”

“Sometimes things need to change. I don’t want to make you sad, Honey, but if I stay here, I’ll be miserable.”

“But I’ll be miserable without you,” Honey cried.

“At least you’ll have Brian,” Trixie said. “He’ll be here for you.”

Honey studied her best friend. “Is this about Jim?”

“Yes and no.” Trixie took a deep breath. “But mostly yes.”

“You’re running away because Jim got engaged,” Honey clarified.

Trixie nodded, her broken heart evident in her sad eyes. “I can’t sit around and watch him and Amanda plan this wedding. It’s just too painful.”

“They still haven’t agreed upon a date,” Honey commented without much emotion. “And it doesn’t look like Jim intends on settling upon one.”

Trixie shrugged her shoulders and sniffed indignantly. “So?” she challenged with a toss of her curls.

Honey smiled. “So, I think he’s stalling.”

“Why should I care that he’s stalling?”

“He’s stalling because of you.”

Trixie snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s true. He’s been acting miserable and grumpy. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he has PMS.”

“He’s just nervous about the wedding,” Trixie argued. “He’ll be back to normal soon.”

“Amanda has noticed also,” Honey commented nonchalantly. “She’d originally wanted to get married next winter, but I think she’s worried that Jim’s having second thoughts. She wants to move up the date. Last I heard, she was trying to talk him into a June wedding.”

Trixie held her breath. “Did it work?”

Honey shook her head. “No, Mother convinced her that a formal wedding would take at least a year to plan.”

Trixie smiled at Mrs. Wheeler’s cunning tactics.

“Jim didn’t like that idea anyway,” Honey added. “So far, he hasn’t liked any of the dates Amanda has suggested. Who knows? They may never settle on a date and have a permanent engagement.”

“Well, when they do settle on a date, I’ll be in sunny California,” Trixie said, crossing her arms.

“So, you’re determined to go?”

Trixie nodded. “If you won’t be mad at me for taking off.”

“I’ll miss you, but I won’t be mad at you. I don’t want you to be miserable, and I know how hard it would be for you to be around Jim.”

“Because if you would be mad, I’d stay,” Trixie admitted. “Nothing’s worth ruining our friendship.”

“I promise I won’t be mad. As much as I want you here, I don’t want to keep you from happiness. I just hope I can run the agency by myself.”

“You’ll do fine,” Trixie assured her.

“I’m not so sure. I’ve never solved a mystery without you.”

“You don’t need me!” Trixie exclaimed. “You’re the one with all the brains and business know-how.”

Honey rolled her eyes. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I am not,” Trixie disagreed, standing and moving to the chair by Honey’s desk. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Private Investigator Wheeler. You’ll be able to easily run this detective agency single-handedly.”

Honey sighed deeply. “I’d much rather have a partner to help me.”

“Dan may want to get his PI license eventually,” Trixie suggested. “And Hallie is finishing up her degree in criminal justice this spring. Maybe she’d be interested in helping out if she doesn’t decide to join the circus.”

“Hallie’s a hippie, not a bearded lady, Trixie,” Honey corrected with a giggle.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Do you really want Hallie here? All the time? Taking your place? Being here whenever you came home for a visit?”

Trixie thought for a moment, and then carefully revised her earlier statement. “Well, like I said, maybe Dan would be interested in joining the agency.

“I think I’ll just wait for you to come home,” Honey said with a slight smile.

Trixie sighed deeply. “I’m not coming home, Hon. If I leave, it’s for good. I won’t be coming back.”

Honey sat in shocked silence, allowing Trixie’s words to sink in. “There’s no way I can talk you out of it?” she asked hopefully.

“No way, whatsoever.”

“I have an idea,” Honey exclaimed, brightening a bit. “Maybe we could investigate Amanda’s background and see if she has any skeletons in her closet. Maybe she’s not even Amanda Woodward. Maybe she’s an imposter, out to get all of Jim’s money.”

“So we find out Amanda is a phony,” Trixie said skeptically. “Then what?”

“Then Jim dumps Amanda, and—”

“And settles for me,” Trixie angrily concluded.

“I-I didn’t mean that,” Honey stammered.

Trixie smiled sadly, then reached over the desk and took her friend’s hands in her own. “I know, Honey. But if I have to prove Amanda is involved in some sort of criminal activity in order to win Jim’s affections, then I don’t want him. Been there; done that; not doing it again.”

“What do you mean?”

Trixie exhaled deeply. “Do you remember Laura Ramsey?”

“Of course,” Honey nodded.

“I always wondered what would’ve happened if Laura hadn’t been found guilty of being a con artist,” Trixie admitted sadly. “How would Jim have felt about Laura if she hadn’t been a criminal?”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” Honey insisted.

“But you don’t know that,” Trixie argued.

“What difference does it make?” Honey sighed impatiently, not wanting to see the difference.

“I need to be Jim’s first choice. I need Jim to love me because I’m me, not because the tall, gorgeous blonde he really loves turned out to be a criminal.” Tears filled her china blue eyes. “I don’t want Jim to break his engagement to Amanda because she’s a con artist, an embezzler, or a gold digger. If he dumps her, I want it to be because he can’t live without me.

“And if he does come to his senses, and seeks out a relationship with me, he must first grovel at my feet, beg for my forgiveness, lick the dust from the bottom of my sneakers, and buy me a million boxes of chocolate,” she added with a saucy wink. “Then, and only then, will I consider gracing him with my presence.”

Honey smiled. “That’s fair enough.”

“That’s what I thought,” Trixie grinned back, wiping her tears on the neck of her shirt. “If Jim comes to his senses, he can come to California and find me.”

“That is, if you haven’t begun a torrid relationship with a handsome, struggling actor,” Honey giggled.

“Oh, yes, barring any steamy affairs with handsome, successful actors,” Trixie chuckled. “I wonder what Ewan McGregor’s up to?”

Honey leaned closer to Trixie and rested her forehead against her friend’s. “I’m really gonna miss you when you leave.”

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” Trixie agreed quietly.

“Does your family know you’re planning this?”

“Not yet,” Trixie admitted. “I wanted to talk to you first, since it would affect the business. I’m going to tell them this weekend when Brian comes home from White Plains.”

“What do you think they’ll say?”

Trixie laughed. “Dad will rant and rave. Moms will cry and try to talk me out of it. Brian will tell me how many earthquakes occur annually in Los Angeles. Mart will ask me to send him some fresh California oranges. And Bobby will ask if he can visit me over spring break.”

Honey chuckled, as well. “Yeah, that sounds like typical Belden reactions.” Suddenly, her expression grew serious. “I wonder what Jim will say.”

“Like that matters to me now. He’s got Amanda, and I’m leaving,” she informed Honey with a trademark sniff and toss.

“Out of sight isn’t out of mind, Trix,” Honey reminded gently. “You could move to Australia, and it wouldn’t change how you feel about Jim.”

“Well, at least in California I won’t have a front row seat for the engagement festivities,” Trixie muttered. “I’d rather leave now with my dignity in tact, before I’m tagging along, helping Amanda pick out china patterns, silver serving sets, and linens.” She crossed her arms in a manner that said that aspect of the conversation was over.

“So, are you coming over for dinner at the farm Saturday evening?” Trixie asked, changing the subject.

Honey nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“Just in case I need any back up,” Trixie said with a grin. She stood up and moved to her previous spot in front of the filing cabinet. She heaved a deep sigh, and plunked down in her seat. “Hey, Hon?”

Honey, who had gotten back on the computer, looked up. “Huh?”

“Do I still have to clean out the filing cabinets since I’ll be leaving soon?” She barely missed the spit-wad Honey aimed for her head.

The next several days were busy for Trixie. She talked to Ralph Keenan often on the phone, finalizing the details of her employment. He assisted her in finding a fully-furnished apartment, since most of the furniture in the Sleepyside apartment belonged to Honey. Ralph kindly provided the advance rent and security deposit. In Trixie, Ralph saw the makings of a crackerjack detective, and he didn’t want to lose her as an employee.

If he had to, Ralph would walk to Sleepyside, and give Trixie a piggyback ride all the way from New York to California.

Trixie spent many hours packing her belongings, which would be sent ahead in a moving van. She and Honey enjoyed several late-night giggling sessions, as they wrapped breakables in bubble paper and sorted through clothing. Neither one of them said a word about the coming separation, but it was on both of their minds constantly.

The sandy blonde joined her family for their monthly Saturday night gathering at Crabapple Farm. Although Brian lived temporarily in White Plains, Mart was married, Trixie was on her own, and Bobby was in college, Helen and Peter insisted everyone “come home” once a month for “family night”. After a delicious dinner, Trixie nervously announced her upcoming move to California to work for Ralph Keenan.

And she correctly assumed how each of her family members would react, save one.

Peter ranted and raved about Trixie traipsing clear across the country, leaving all those she knew and loved behind. He cursed that “confounded Belden wander-bug”, and gave a twenty-minute tirade about Ralph Keenan. After his lengthy grumblings, he pulled his little girl close to him, wiped a few tears, and ordered her to visit Sleepyside often.

Helen cried for a solid hour, and then pleaded the entire following hour for Trixie to change her mind. After finally reaching the conclusion that her daughter’s intentions were fixed upon Los Angeles, she mournfully went into the kitchen, where she began baking hundreds of cookies for Trixie to take with her on the plane, although her departure was weeks away.

Brian immediately quoted how many deaths occur annually in California due to earthquakes and other national disasters. He also included with some grisly information regarding serial killers. However, after Honey began measuring his feet, he clamped his mouth shut, determined to keep his feet out of it.

Initially, Mart was hurt at his almost-twin’s decision. However, within minutes, he began to see the merit in her plan. He gave her an entire list of West Coast delicacies he wished to sample, including fresh oranges, grapefruits, nectarines, and tangelos.

Di scolded her husband for always thinking about his stomach, and sent him into the kitchen for a snack. She embraced her sister-in-law and tearfully told her that she supported any decision Trixie made.

However, Bobby’s reaction shocked her. Trixie had expected her younger brother to be rather uncaring about the whole matter, but to her surprise, the tall, stocky young man left the room without saying a word, went up to his room, and slammed the door shut loudly.

While Helen, Honey and Di were cleaning up the kitchen, Mart grabbed Trixie’s hand and led her to the laundry room for a private discussion. Once alone, he crossed his arms, and studied her carefully.

“Okay, Trix. Spill the beans.”

Trixie’s face was a portrait of pure innocence. “What beans? You ate them all at dinner.”

Mart grinned, but he would not be deterred. “You know what beans I’m talking about. The California beans. Is this impromptu trip across the country a result of someone’s engagement?”

“No,” she replied adamantly, proudly raising her chin. She turned to walk away, but her almost-twin blocked her escape.

“Come on, Trix,” he persisted, placing a tender hand on his sister’s shoulder. “I promise not to tease. I won’t tell a single soul, except for Di, and most likely, Honey will tell her anyway.”

Trixie sighed deeply, and the proud look melted away. “I’m kind of moving because of Jim’s engagement, but that’s not the only reason. I really do want to work on more exciting cases.”

“I’m worried about you, Trix,” Mart whispered, ruffling her sandy curls. “It isn’t like you to just run away.”

“I’m not running away,” she insisted. “I’m going on with my life. I’m not going to sit around and mope my entire life away over some stupid guy. There’s more than one fish in the sea.”

“Uh-huh,” he snorted sarcastically. “And there’s a big bridge in Brooklyn I can sell you.”

“If you don’t want to believe me, fine,” Trixie replied curtly. “But it’s the truth. I’m not going to sit around and watch the man I love marry some stupid hussy.”

“I agree that you shouldn’t sit around and watch. Instead, I think you should stay and fight!”

Trixie shook her head sadly. “I’m not fighting, and I’m not begging him to pick me. If he wants me, he’ll know where to find me.”

“But if you really love him, Trix—”

“I do love him, Mart,” she interrupted, “but you can’t possibly understand how I feel. With you and Di, it’s always been give and take. But I’ve always felt like I was the one continually running to Jim.” She sighed in exasperation, assumed her falsetto voice and fluttered her eyelashes. “Yes, Jim. Of course, Jim. Anything, Jim.” She rolled her eyes and began speaking in her normal tone. “Just once, I’d like for him to run to me.”

“So, you’re hoping for some dramatic, last minute airport confession of love from Jim?” he asked skeptically.

Trixie nodded hesitantly. “I doubt that’ll happen, but yes, that would be nice.”

Mart exhaled loudly as he pondered Trixie’s motive. “And what if he doesn’t stop you? What if you throw all your chances away by moving to Los Angeles and virtually telling Jim sayonara?”

She nervously swallowed, then set her chin in determination. “Well, that’s a chance I’ll have to take.”

Mart grinned. He had to admit, though only to himself, that he admired his sister’s spunk. “Want me and Brian to kill him? Devise some sort of accident in the barn? We’ve been talking, and I’m sure we could rig something rather easily with baling twine and a scythe or two.”

“I want him maimed, not killed,” Trixie giggled, playfully slapping him on the shoulder.

“That can be arranged, as well,” Mart promised with a waggle of his sandy brows.

Before Trixie left the farm that evening, she knocked on her youngest brother’s door and entered to find him lying on his bed with a pillow covering his face.

“Whatcha doin?” Trixie sat down on his bed, careful to not sit on her brother’s six-foot-four frame.

“Nuthin’,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“What’s wrong?”

“I said nuthin’.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Trixie placed a gentle hand on her brother’s strong arm.

Without a word, Bobby threw the pillow off and flung his arms around her, hugging her close. Silent sobs racked his body. Trixie murmured comforting words and rubbed his back. It was almost as if they were once again thirteen and six and he was pleading with her to read Peter Rabbit.

Several minutes later, he hesitantly pulled away and wiped his freckled face with a large hand. “You probably think I’m being silly, don’t you?”

“Of course not,” Trixie whispered, running her hand through his mop of shaggy sandy-blond curls. “I am kind of surprised that you’re taking this so hard.”

“Why?”

“I guess I didn’t think you’d care.” She tenderly placed her palm against her brother’s cheek and studied his face.

“I guess you thought wrong,” Bobby muttered angrily. Once his eyes met hers, his anger faded. In a somber voice, he continued, “You’re my sister, Trix. You’ve taken care of me my whole life. No matter how bratty I’ve been, or how much trouble I’ve caused, you’ve always been there. Now, you’re gonna leave for California.”

“I’ll only be a phone call or an e-mail away.”

“That’s not the same. I need you here. Nobody understands me like you,” he mumbled.

“Bobby, I have to do this. If I don’t, I’ll be miserable.”

“I know,” he admitted, a tremor in his voice. “I don’t want you to be sad, Sis. Nobody deserves happiness more than you. I just wish things didn’t have to change. I wish it could be like it was before.”

“What do you mean?” Trixie asked, rubbing his arm soothingly.

“Brian’s in White Plains. Mart’s married. Now you’re going to Los Angeles. And once again, I’m being left behind,” he added sadly.

“Soon, you’ll be leaving. You’re starting college this fall, and you’ll have your own adventure.”

Bobby merely shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just the community college. I’ll still be living at home.”

“Sleepyside Community College is a good place to start, especially since you don’t know what you want to major in yet. Later on, you can transfer someplace else if you want to,” she suggested.

“I know,” he mumbled, refusing to take comfort in her words.

“I’m gonna miss you, too, you know,” Trixie said, lightly punching him on his rock-hard bicep.

“Not as much as I’m gonna miss you,” he retorted, punching her back. Knowing his own strength, he took special care to make sure that his “punch” was gentle.

Trixie spied a box of tissues on the messy nightstand by his bed. She picked it up and handed a Kleenex to her brother. He noisily blew his nose, and then shot the tissue into the wastebasket by the door, his aim perfect.

“So, why’re you leaving?” Bobby questioned.

Trixie shrugged. “I already told everyone at dinner. I want to get some experience on other types of cases. I think it would be good for me to spend some time in Los Angeles, becoming a more well-rounded detective.”

“Okay, sure. So, why are you really going to California?” Bobby snorted.

Trixie smiled. “Because I need to.”

“It’s because of Jim, isn’t it?” Bobby’s blue eyes blazed and his jaw was set in anger. It was remarkable how much he resembled Mart at that moment.

Trixie nervously broke off eye contact with her younger brother. “Why do you ask that?” she stammered.

“I’m not some dumb little kid any more, Trix,” he groaned. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to make the connection between Jim’s engagement and your sudden desire to move across the country.”

“You’re no ignoramus, are you?” she teased with a grin.

Bobby chuckled, remembering how proud he used to be when Mart called him that as a child. “No, I’m not. So do you want me to kill him?”

“According to some recently acquired information, Brian and Mart have already devised some diabolical plan involving an accident with a scythe, so you may have to stand in line.”

“Maybe they’ll let me dig the shallow grave,” he commented with an impish smile and a waggle of his sandy brows.

“I’m sure they would,” she giggled.

“Are you leaving to get away from Jim?” Bobby questioned seriously, staring his sister square in the eyes.

“Partly,” she admitted. “But it isn’t all because of him. I do want to work on more exciting cases.”

“Running away won’t help,” Bobby replied wisely. “All it’ll do is separate you from everybody else you love. If you stayed here, at least you’d have the rest of us around to help you through a rotten time.”

“When did you get so smart?” Although her tone was teasing, her expression was fond.

“Since I started listening to you,” he answered without skipping a beat. “I might get real dumb again if you take off.”

“I have to leave, Bobby. I can’t stay here and watch Jim and Amanda,” she explained. “It hurts too much.”

“Jim doesn’t love Princess Pierce-the-eardrum. He loves you,” he persisted with a shake of his head.

Trixie gasped. “How do you know that?”

Bobby shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’ve known since I was six. It was obvious. He was always mooning over you.”

Trixie smirked in disbelief. However, a smile twitched at the corners of her lips. “Did you ever notice anything in particular?”

“Remember that time I handcuffed you together?”

Trixie grinned, remembering that day as clearly as she remembered her own name.

“Late that night, I found the key to the handcuffs, and I snuck downstairs to lay it on the kitchen table. I saw you and Jim snuggled on the couch together.” That impish grin for which Bobby was known returned.

“At first, I wanted to play a real mean trick on you, like stick your fingers in warm water and see if you would pee,” he continued. “But after seeing how sweet you looked together, I couldn’t.

“You looked so pretty there, Trix. You had such a contented smile on your face, and your hand was resting on Jim’s chest. And for the first time I could ever remember, Jim actually looked peaceful. Usually, he looks all uptight and stressed out, but with you in his arms, he actually looked normal.

“That was the moment I knew that you and Jim loved each other,” Bobby concluded. “So you’ve gotta stay here and fight for Jim. Kick old Squawkinhonker’s butt.”

A tear trickled down Trixie’s cheek. “I’m not going to fight, Bobby. I feel like I’ve been fighting for Jim my entire life. It’s his turn to fight for me! I’m not going to sit here and wait for him to decide that I’m worth it. I’m going to California.”

Trixie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Noticing how upset Bobby was, she clasped his large hand in her small one. “Maybe someday I’ll be able to come back,” she told him. “Until then, you can always visit me on the West Coast.”

Suddenly, the pouting expression on Bobby’s face magically made him appear six-years-old again. “It won’t be the same as having you here.”

“No, but we’d have fun in California. Maybe you can visit me over spring break.”

Bobby shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe we’ll visit a barber shop while you’re there.” Trixie lovingly ruffled her brother’s sandy mop.

He chuckled and placed his hands protectively over his hair. “Hey, you can’t get rid of my curls! They drive the hotties crazy!”

Trixie merely snorted and rolled her eyes. In her heart, however, she didn’t doubt it a bit that her baby brother was a hit with the ladies.

Bobby smiled shyly. “Hey, you won’t tell Brian and Mart about me crying, will you?”

“Not if you don’t want me to. It’ll be our see-crud.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Trixie agreed.

“You know, if you break your word, you’ll have to read me Peter Rabbit fifty times in a row when you come home,” Bobby threatened jokingly.

Trixie gave a mock shiver. “Ooh! Anything but that!”

“Will you bring me back some cool California souvenirs?” he asked hopefully.

“Don’t I always?” Trixie’s gaze grew serious. “You behave yourself while I’m away. I don’t like the crowd you’re hanging around with. It’s important for you to have good friends.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bobby muttered with a grin.

“I mean it, Bobby. After all, I won’t be here to help keep you in line.”

“Too bad Moms made me get rid of those handcuffs,” he replied with a wink. “By now, I’ve ‘losted’ the keys permanently. You’d be stuck here for good.”

“Then we could play Battleship,” she giggled.

“And Candy Land,” Bobby added.

“And ‘Monobly’,” Trixie teased.

“But only if I win.”

Trixie smiled as they recalled sweet memories. She tenderly placed her hand on Bobby’s cheek. She remembered doing that so often when his cheeks were chubby and ruddy. Now, those same cheeks were tanned, rugged, and slightly stubbly. A lump filled her throat, and once again, tears gathered in her blue eyes.

“I love you, Bobby Belden,” she choked.

He tenderly traced his sister’s cheek with his fingertips. “And I love you, Trixie Belden,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

Once again, he tearfully collapsed in his sister’s arms, his linebacker form dwarfing Trixie’s tiny body.

Credits:

Thank you very much to the best editors in the whole wide world, Kathy and Kaye! Thank you ever so much for your input! *smoochies*

Uh, gee… Any similarities to the Lucy board and the Trixie board is highly intentional! J Tammy, hope you didn’t mind that I used your name.

Ruthie Kettner, Lester Mundy, Jane Morgan, and Rachel Martin belong to Random House, along with all the other characters I’ve used. Well, I guess I can take credit for Amanda, the moochy boyfriend Mack, and the whacked out computer geek, but I think I’ll pass. J

Norton and MacAfee actually make programs to protect your computer against viruses. As far as I know, Mickey Mouse doesn’t.

The dainty Siamese mentioned as a paramour for Mr. Winky in honor of my bee-you-te-full Siamese, Quincy Dense. Smoochies Quincy!

JC Penney is a large, commonly known department store, which you probably already knew. Liz Claiborne is a brand of clothing, and according to some of the tags in my Villager brand clothes, it is a subsidiary of Liz.

The Rockefellers are a well-known wealthy family. One of their relatives is one of WV’s senators. I didn’t vote for him or for Byrd for that matter. But that’s another matter entirely… *G*

Andy Griffith is a show that I absolutely adore! I did not ask for permission to use it, but I’m sure Andy won’t mind. He’s such a nice guy, after all! J

The Music Man is a wonderful musical that I saw years ago. Thanks to Kaye for reminding me about Ron Howard’s appearance in that! It really helped Honey’s babbling… {{{HUG}}}

Ralph Keenan is my character. As you may remember, the girls helped him with a case in part one. He then offered them a job, which they refused. However, it seems Trixie put that business card to good use that she stuffed in her desk…

Laura Ramsey belongs to RH, as well. As far as I’m concerned, they can keep her! *wink* Ah, poor Trixie has been tortured for a long time by Jim’s “friendliness”. Was it just me, or did Jim show more Bob-White spirit to Dot Murray than he did to Ned Shultz? *wink*

The Ewan McGregor reference goes back to the Here and Now universe, where he is Trixie’s favorite actor.

The scene with Mart was necessary because Kaye said she needed a better explanation why Trixie decided to leave.

There is a large bridge in Brooklyn, but last I heard, it was not for sale. *G*

Bobby demanded a scene in this future story. I have such a soft spot for him that I gave in to his pleading. He’s modeled after my “baby” brother, who tries to act all tough and manly, but is really very tenderhearted. I ‘dored doing the scene between Trixie and Bobby. Many memories were references to my own stories. I’m allowed to do that, right?