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“For
the Man Who Has Everything” was written for one of my favorite authors in the
whole world, the lovely Susansuth, for the Jix Authors’ Christmas exchange.
This story takes place a few years down the road in my “Glimpses into the Future” Universe, so there may be a spoiler
or two. So, without further ado, I happily present this romantic comedy
featuring Susan’s favorite couple. (Gee, I wonder who they are…?) Christmas Eve morning… “Good
morning, sunshine.” Jim had to bite
back a chortle as he was rewarded with something between a growl and a groan
from his wife. At the present, she more closely resembled a storm cloud than a
ray of sunshine. However, this was just the response he’d been expecting.
After their wedding day two years ago, he’d learned quickly that Trixie
wasn’t what one could term a morning person. Therefore, he wasn’t surprised
when she yanked the blankets over her head instead of eagerly jumping out of
bed. Undeterred, he gingerly pulled down the comforter, revealing a set of
angry china blue eyes. He reached out and brushed a stray curl from her
forehead. “Rise and shine,
sleepyhead,” he told her cheerfully. “You’ve got a big day ahead of you.” “I should get my
gun out and shoot you,” Trixie muttered sleepily. “Lucky for you, it’s
Christmas Eve, and I’m feeling generous.” With an amused
smile, Jim leaned down and kissed her pert nose. “How charitable of you,” he
teased. “Well, it is the holiday season…” she managed
through a yawn. “What time is it, anyway?” “Time for you to
get out of bed.” “This is a switch.”
Trixie sat up in bed and, after rubbing her bleary eyes, cast her husband a
wicked grin. “Usually you’re trying to get me into bed, not out of it.” “Guilty as
charged,” he admitted with a chuckle. “Unfortunately, on this fine morning,
I’ve been threatened within an inch of my life to make sure you’re awake and
out of bed by the time I leave for school.” “Honey was afraid
I’d oversleep and make her late, huh?” Jim nodded. “Indeed
she was. Apparently you two have a date to go shopping, and she wants to get
to the mall as soon as it opens. She must know how many presents you still
need to buy.” Groaning, Trixie
slunk back under the covers, childishly hoping she could hide from all her
troubles. “C’mon, Shamus.”
Jim tugged at the blankets in an attempt to reveal her face. However, the
more he pulled, the more she squirmed.
“But I don’t wanna go shopping
with Honey.” The bedding muffled Trixie’s voice, but it was obvious she meant
business in spite of her whiny tone. “She’s mean, and I’m afraid of her.” “Honey isn’t mean,” he
corrected gently. “She’s just very organized when it comes to shopping, and
unfortunately for you, she won’t let you leave the mall until you’ve bought
everything on your list.” “She is mean. And you know as well as I do
that she’s going to yell at me for waiting until the last minute to finish
buying gifts.” Jim gave the blankets another jerk and
finally succeeded in releasing them from Trixie’s grip. Instead of the scowl
he’d been expecting to see on her face, he was surprised to find a doleful
expression. “So, why’d you agree to go to the mall with Honey if you knew she
was going to yell at you?” “Same reason you’re so
determined to get me to the mall on time— pure, unadulterated fear.” Trixie
smirked up at her husband in a knowing manner. “Let’s face it, Jim;
underneath that cultured, socialite exterior, there’s a monster who won’t
rest until I’ve shopped till I’ve dropped.” “She’s not that bad, Trix.” Trixie glared up at him
through narrowed eyes. “Have you
ever gone Christmas shopping with her?” “Not since we were
teenagers.” “Then don’t even try to
argue with me,” Trixie shot back testily, waving her hand in protest. “You
have no idea how traumatic Christmas shopping with Honey can be. She might be
my best friend and your sister, but during the holidays she starts acting
like Martha Stewart on crack. I swear, that girl has her shopping done by
Thanksgiving just so she can deck every hall between here and Connecticut
with garland and bows. She’s not human.” “Trix, I hate to tell
you this, but with your tendency to procrastinate, it’s going to take a
crack-smoking Martha Stewart to make sure you get your shopping done. Lord
knows I don’t have the patience for
it.” “This is why you
should’ve done all our shopping to begin with,” Trixie stated
matter-of-factly. “No, this is why I never
should’ve agreed to split up the list between us to save time,” Jim amended.
“I should’ve known you’d wait until the last minute to get the presents on
your half of the list.” Trixie inhaled dramatically and then
released that breath with equal gusto. “No, I never should’ve told Honey that I had to go to the mall today.
I tried to tell her that I could handle it by myself, but when she insisted
on going with me, I was too afraid to say no.” “Don’t you think you’re
exaggerating a bit, Trix?” Jim questioned with a laugh. “It’s not like
Honey’s going to stick a homemade shiv in your gut if you haven’t purchased a
certain number of gifts by a certain time.” Trixie propped herself
up in bed for the sole purpose of enabling herself to cross her arms in
defiance. “That’s easy for you to say.
You’re not the one who’s going to be dragged around by the scruff of the neck
to every single store in the Sleepyside Mall.” “Well, I’m not the one who waited until the
last minute to get my half of the gifts,” Jim gloated. He laughed as Trixie’s
expression grew even more despondent. “Sweetheart, it’s just a day at the
mall, not the end of the world!” “It may as well be,” she
groused. “Honey’s like Mussolini with a MasterCard. If I don’t move fast
enough from store to store, she’ll probably squirt me with pepper spray and
beat me with her purse strap. She’ll have me goose-stepping to Crate and
Barrel in record time.” The corners of Jim’s
lips twitched with the effort of suppressing a grin. “At least you’ll finally
finish your shopping. I finished two weeks ago.” “Humph, don’t even start
bragging,” Trixie muttered with a toss of her unruly curls. “When we came up
with this plan to split up the names, I thought it’d make things easier, but you got all the easy people. If I had
the names you picked, then I’d be
done, too.” Jim snorted. “Yeah,
right. You call Brian, Honey, your dad, my mother, and Bobby the ‘easy
people’?” Knowing her argument had
just failed miserably, Trixie forlornly buried her face in her hands. “Why,
oh, why am I such a procrastinator?” she bemoaned. “I always vow to start
buying presents the day after Thanksgiving, yet every December twenty-fourth
ends up being a suicide mission to Macy’s. You’d think I would’ve learned my
lesson by now.” In spite of his wife’s
obvious turmoil, Jim couldn’t help but chuckle. “You don’t procrastinate; you
just delay the inevitable to add to the thrill of the hunt. Waiting until the
last minute makes it more exciting.” “Nice try, Jimmy.”
Trixie smirked over at him, a twinkle in her china blue eyes. “As much as I
appreciate your attempt to justify my tendency to dillydally around, the fact
is that I’d rather scrub the toilet with a toothbrush than go to the mall.
Now I’m doomed to a day of marathon shopping with the Fϋhrer.” “Lucky for you, I have
the perfect thing to perk you right up.” “So you are coming back to bed?” Trixie
inquired hopefully through lowered lashes. “Although there’s
nothing I’d like more than to provide you a Trixie inhaled softly as
she appraised the tray on her lap. One of their Christmas plates held one of
her favorite breakfast treats… blueberry croissants filled with cream cheese.
A festive oversized mug contained a frothy concoction of espresso, chocolate
milk, whipped cream, and cinnamon. As if the food and cappuccino wasn’t
enough, a single red rose, complete with a holiday-inspired spray of holly
and berries, stood in a delicate crystal vase on the middle of the tray.
Trixie looked up at her husband, her eyes glistening with happy tears. “Have I ever told you
that you’re the most wonderful boy in the world?” “A minute ago you were
ready to shoot me,” Jim teased. Trixie batted her eyes
coyly. “That’s before you brought me a cappuccino.” To show her appreciation, she took a sip
from the mug, and looked up at Jim with a satisfied smile. “Yummy yum yum,”
she murmured, oblivious to the whipped cream that now coated her upper lip. Unable to resist the
urge, Jim leaned down and used his tongue to rid Trixie of her cappuccino
mustache. “Now that’s yummy,” he
whispered huskily in her ear before standing upright. “Are you sure you can’t stay and have breakfast
with me?” Trixie coaxed in her most charming manner. “Surely the school could
survive for just a few minutes without you there.” “I wish I could, Shamus.
Unfortunately, I have several things to take care of in the office before our
special Christmas Eve assembly this afternoon.” Trixie released a
dramatic sigh, and then pooched her lips in a pout. “All right. I guess I’ll
just have to wait until tonight to thank you for my breakfast.” “I’ll hold you to that,”
Jim promised as he flashed her one of his lopsided grins. “You won’t be
disappointed.” She countered his lopsided grin with a sultry smile and
one-upped him with a slight waggle of her eyebrows. “I’m just glad we’ll have
the entire evening to ourselves. After how hectic the holiday season’s been
for us, I’m thankful we reserved Christmas Eve for just us.” “Me too,” he agreed. He
bent down to apply a final kiss to her lips. “Don’t forget; you’re meeting
Honey in a little over an hour, so don’t go back to sleep.” Trixie looked down at
her tray and chuckled. “I don’t think you have to worry. Thanks to my genius
husband, I’ll have so much sugar and caffeine in my system that I won’t have
any trouble keeping up with Honey at the mall.” She paused briefly, assuming
a thoughtful expression. “How on earth did I end up with such a wonderful
husband?” “I’m the only man on
earth who has enough patience to put up with you; any other man would’ve
killed you a long time ago,” he teased, winking. “Now, eat your breakfast so
you can skedaddle out of here. I don’t want Honey coming after me with her
pepper spray.” “Aye, aye, captain.”
After giving him a crisp salute, she picked up her croissant and enjoyed the
view of Jim’s retreating form. She pondered what was more delicious— her
pastry or her husband’s firm backside. A devilish grin parted
her lips. “Definitely Jim’s butt,” Trixie whispered lustily as she took a
bite of her breakfast. Less than an hour later… With the stealth of
a jungle cat, Trixie snuck into Jim’s office at Ten Acres Academy. Creeping
on her tiptoes, she stretched out her arms and prepared to leap on her
unsuspecting prey. However, before she could launch her attack, her hapless
would-be victim pulled the rug out from under her. “I thought you were
supposed to meet Honey so you could finish our Christmas shopping.” “Jim!” Trixie
wailed. She stamped her foot and slapped her arms against her thighs. “I thought you were working. How’d you know I was sneaking up behind you?” He swiveled around
in his desk chair and offered her a conciliatory smile. “I always know when
you’ve entered the room, Shamus. It’s been my special gift since I was
fifteen.” “Well, you’d better
not share this gift with anyone, or my days trailing unsuspecting criminals
are over,” Trixie retorted, her mouth pinched with irritation. “Three years
as a private detective and I can’t sneak up on a civilian. I’m pathetic.” “Don’t be so hard
on yourself.” Chuckling, Jim pulled her onto his lap and nuzzled her neck.
“It’s not your fault that I’m so keenly aware of your presence.” “I guess it’s not
so bad when you put it that way,” she said with a giggle. She snaked her arms
around his neck and snuggled close to his chest. “And to answer the question you
asked earlier, Honey’s picking me up here in about twenty minutes. As you can
see, I managed to get out of bed and make myself presentable with time to
spare. Miracles never cease.” Jim smiled fondly
as he brushed back a wayward curl from her forehead. “I think you’re more
than ‘presentable’, Mrs. Frayne.” He tipped his head back so he could admire
her shining curls, sparking eyes, and rosy cheeks. “I think you’re downright
gorgeous.” No matter how many
times Jim commented on her beauty, Trixie always blushed with pleasure.
Nobody would ever mistake her for a beauty queen; however, any time Jim
looked at her, she felt like one. “And I think you’re
in for a very festive Christmas Eve,” she remarked, her voice taking on a
sultry quality. She laid her hand on her husband’s chiseled jaw line and
caressed his cheekbone with her thumb. “Just you, me, and the twinkling white
lights of the Christmas tree. What more could anyone ask for?” “Don’t forget the
Johnny Mathis holiday CD.” Jim’s green eyes twinkled merrily as he waited for
her reaction. Trixie scrunched up
her pert nose with disgust. “Excuse me, Mr. Frayne, but I think you mean the Bing Crosby holiday CD.” Jim just threw back
his head and laughed. “My mistake.” “Humph,” Trixie
snorted with feigned insult. “That’s what I get for dropping by to spread a
little Christmas cheer. Bing’s the only man I want singing holiday songs to
me, so don’t even tease me about listening to someone else.” “Sweetheart, if you
want to listen to Bing, that’s fine with me. We’re going to be breathing too
hard to hear the music anyway.” Pulling her so close that their hearts met,
Jim’s smoldering gaze left Trixie catching her breath as she read his
unspoken intentions. “Is that a threat
or a promise?” she asked in a breathy voice. “It’s my Christmas
wish,” was his simple response. Gathering a fistful of sandy curls, Jim
gently nudged her lips closer to his and then captured them in a leisurely
kiss. Even when the kiss ended, the lovers seemed reluctant to part,
remaining in a close embrace. “So, what brings
you to Ten Acres?” Jim murmured, his voice still husky from the heat of their
kiss. “Not that I’m not enjoying your company, mind you.” “Well,” Trixie
drawled out slowly, “since Honey will force me to make a shopping list
anyway, I thought I’d beat her to the punch. As I was writing stuff down, I
couldn’t remember what we discussed getting for Moms. I know we talked about
gift ideas for everyone when we split up the names.” “As I recall, we
decided to get your mother one of those stand-up mixers,” he answered.
“Didn’t she say that she wants one?” “O-oh, yeah,”
Trixie mumbled rather unconvincingly. She then assumed a thoughtful
expression, which seemed a bit exaggerated. “And what did we decide to get
for your dad?” “A set of bronze
bookends for his study.” “That’s right,” she
acknowledged enthusiastically. Jim cocked a single
ginger-colored brow in speculation as he carefully studied his wife’s face.
“Is there anything else you wanted to ask me?” Trixie’s eyes suddenly
doubled in size. Although she appeared to be the epitome of innocence, Jim
knew her better than that. “Whatever do you mean?” she inquired weakly. “Didn’t you really
pop by so you could ask what I
wanted for Christmas?” “Don’t be
ridiculous.” Trixie gave a sniff of indignation and a haughty toss of her
curls. “I finished shopping for you weeks ago.” “Oh, really?” Jim
tried to keep the twinkle from his eyes as he challenged her, but it was
impossible. “Really,” she
retorted in her most definitive tone. Jim, however,
wasn’t buying it. He honed in on Trixie with his laser-like glare, his
emerald orbs more revealing than a lie detector test. In spite of her
attempts to withstand the pressure, Trixie finally buckled under intense
scrutiny. “Okay, fine,” she
groused. “I still need to pick up another thing or two for you. Happy?” Being the gentleman
that he was, Jim resisted the urge to gloat. “Why didn’t you just come right
out and ask what I wanted?” “Because I thought
with my superb interrogation skills, I could extract the necessary
information without revealing my sinister intentions.” Trixie gave a loud
snort. “Little did I know that I’d be subjected to the glare of truth.” Jim chuckled. “Yes,
as headmaster of Ten Acres, that ability does come in handy from time to
time.” A slight smile
parted Trixie’s lips as she played with Jim’s festive poinsettia tie. “So,
what do you want for Christmas?”
she practically purred. “Hmm, let me think…
What do I want for Christmas?” Jim scratched his chin thoughtfully as he
contemplated the question. “I’ve got a beautiful wife, a wonderful family,
the best friends in the world, a job I love… What more could a man ask for?” “Hopefully
something that I can wrap and put under the tree,” she responded dryly. “Now,
what do you want?” “Peace on earth and
goodwill towards all men,” Jim replied with a wide grin. Trixie rolled her
eyes in exasperation. “That’s great, Miss America. Now while we’re finding
your sash and crown, how about you tell me what I can pick up for you at the
Sleepyside Mall?” “I don’t know,
Trix,” Jim said through a laugh. “I honestly can’t think of anything.” “Why can’t you be
more materialistic?” she fumed, waving her hands in frustration and almost
knocking him on the head in the process. Thankfully for Jim, she hopped off
his lap, stomped over to another chair, and plopped down in it. “It certainly
would make my holiday shopping a lot easier if you had a three-foot long wish
list. Why can’t you be more considerate of my feelings and be more selfish
this time of year?” “Sorry, babe. Next
Christmas I’ll try to be more hedonistic.” Trixie cocked her
head sideways, her eyes shooting icy daggers at her husband. “You know what I
mean. I go through this agony every single year with you. You don’t need
anything, and there are very few things that you want. And even if I do think of the perfect gift for you,
one of our less-procrastinating family members buys it before I have the
chance.” She sighed dramatically before adding, “It’s hopeless.” “Sweetheart, as far
as I’m concerned you don’t have to get me anything.” Although she was
almost a foot shorter than Jim, somehow Trixie managed to look down at him.
She scooted her chair next to him in an intimidating fashion. “You’re going
to get something for Christmas, and you’re going to like it, mister!” she
ordered huffily, poking him in the ribs to accent her words. “Christmas is a
time for giving, and giving is fun when you’re giving people the things they
want. Unfortunately, giving you
presents isn’t fun because you
don’t have a materialistic bone in your body and you don’t want anything.
Just once, could you not be so
honorable and tell me what ridiculously expensive gift you’d like to find
under our tree? Please?” “All right,” Jim
agreed half-heartedly. “I could really use a new cabinet for my tools.” Trixie sighed
wearily, knowing with one-hundred percent certainty that a top-of-the-line
Kobalt 11-Drawer 40” Wide Ball-Bearing Cabinet had already been purchased for
Jim by his parents. “Is there anything
else you can think of?” she queried as she massaged her throbbing temples.
“Preferably something that you’ve always wanted and that nobody else can get
you…” A secretive smile
played at the corners of Jim’s full lips— a smile that Trixie immediately
picked up on. “What?” she urged.
“I know you thought of something. What is it?” “It’s nothing,” he
denied. However, the smile remained. Trixie bounced up
and down in her chair, hoping her actions would somehow force him to spill
the beans. “What is it, Jim? Tell me!” “Well, it’s
something that I’ve always wanted,” Jim began with a grin, “and it’s
something that only you can give me.” She looked at him
sternly. “If this ‘gift’ involves a red garter belt and a Santa Claus
negligee, you’re going to be in big trouble.” “I promise that
this particular gift doesn’t involve anything from Victoria’s Secret,” Jim
replied. “Of course, I have to admit that it wouldn’t hurt anything…” Trixie exhaled
noisily, bracing herself for the bombshell. “Oh, this should be good. What is
it?” Jim paused
dramatically before he made the big announcement. “A baby.” “A baby?” she
repeated in her quietest voice. “Are you serious?” Jim looked at her,
his eyes full of hope as he waited for her response. “Of course I’m serious.”
His hopeful vigil ended abruptly as he perceived Trixie’s reluctance to even
discuss the subject. “Does it bother you that I’d like to for us to start
family?” “No,” Trixie denied
emphatically. “I’m just surprised. Isn’t this kind of out-of-the-blue?” “Not really. It
isn’t the first time I’ve told you that I wanted us to have a baby. I’ve
mentioned it a couple of times in the past few months.” “Yeah, but I
thought you mentioned you wanted a baby like I mention that I want to
backpack through Europe,” Trixie murmured. “It’s something you want to do someday, but not in the immediate
future.” “I thought you
wanted kids,” he said, disappointment creeping into his voice. Trixie reached over
and clasped his hands in a reassuring manner. “Oh, I do, I do!” she insisted.
However, after a brief pause, she added, “But not for another year or two.” “Why so long?” “Honey and I have finally started getting a steady stream of
cases,” she explained rather unconvincingly. “I’d hate to take off for a few
months just when the agency’s doing so well.” Jim shrugged his
shoulders. “I’m sure Honey would be more than willing to shoulder the load
for a few months, especially if you were providing her with a niece or
nephew.” “Yeah, I guess she
would.” The smile Trixie had
plastered on her face somehow didn’t reach her eyes. Since Jim had become an
expert on everything Trixie years ago, he noticed immediately that her
enthusiasm was feigned. Instead of pursuing the topic further, he plastered
on a smile of his own. “Well, we have plenty of
time to discuss this in the next couple of years,” he conceded. “Honey’s
going to be here in a few minutes and we still need to talk about tonight.” This time, Trixie’s
smile was genuine. She twirled a curl as she looked at Jim through
gold-tipped lashes. “And what exactly do we need to talk about?” she asked,
her tone suggestive. “How I’m going to repay you for my breakfast in bed,
perhaps?” Jim squirmed in his
chair, silently reminding himself that there were children nearby, children
who had excellent hearing and would likely notice any “funny” noises coming
from Mr. Frayne’s office. He cleared his throat, hoping it might help him
focus on thoughts that weren’t so X-rated. “Actually, I wanted to
make sure that you were coming home tonight.” His green eyes twinkled
mischievously. “I was kind of worried you wouldn’t finish your shopping by
Christmas morning.” Trixie made a face at
him. “Very funny. For your information, with the little handy-dandy list I
made, I should be finished by five or six.” She giggled suddenly. “Well, at
least I’d better be. The mall closes at seven.” “Just as long as you
don’t stay there all night.” Jim gave her a wink as he reached for her,
scooping her back into his arms. “We have a date.” “Indeed we do,” she
whispered huskily. She lovingly brushed back a thick shock of dark red hair
as she admired the rugged lines and creases of her handsome husband’s face.
“Miss me.” “Visions of you in that
Santa nightie will dance in my head all day,” he teased. “And they’ll dance for
you in person tonight,” Trixie promised. After a quick peek at her watch, she
abruptly hopped to her feet. “Ohmigosh! I was supposed to meet Honey five
minutes ago! I’d better head out to the parking lot before she comes hunting
for me.” “Be sure you tell her
that I got you out of bed on time,” Jim instructed with feigned fear. Trixie hastily leaned
down to kiss him goodbye, almost conking his head in the process. “See you
tonight,” she called as she hurried out the door. A few hours later… The
foot traffic lanes of the Sleepyside Mall were cram-packed with frustrated
shoppers who were pushing and shoving their way through the crowds to make
their frantic last-minute purchases. With mere hours until their Christmas
morning deadline, desperation had replaced the usual holiday cheer. Instead
of decking the halls with boughs of holly, the multitudes were decking each
other with their shopping bags in an attempt to beat the masses to the last
remaining bargains. All the caffeine,
chocolate, and sugar in the world couldn’t have prepared Trixie for the
pandemonium around her. Arms laden with purchases, she scowled as she fought
her way through the bloodthirsty mob. After muttering, “ ‘Scuse me” at least
a hundred times, she finally followed the lead of her peers, gave up all
pretense of etiquette, and satisfied herself with merely making it out of the
mall alive. Ever aware of her
surroundings, Trixie appraised her situation. Sweat began to bead on her
forehead as she took in all the chaos compassing her. If the throng of
foolhardy consumers wasn’t enough to bring on a panic attack, the thundering
noise level around her would. One couldn’t even hear the holiday Muzak with
all the shoppers yelling, babies crying, and bells clanging. Out of the dismal
abyss of commercialism, a light shone in the distance. Several feet away,
high in the ceiling, the bright outline of a giant pretzel outlined in
blinking pink lights offered a glimpse of hope in the otherwise desolate
horizon. Trixie gave a hasty
sideways peek in Honey’s direction. “Can we stop a minute for a pretzel and
something to drink?” “We just had lunch
less than two hours ago,” Honey pointed out. “I know, but I need
a break.” Trixie assumed a miserable expression to hopefully match the whine
in her voice. “Have a heart, Hon. You wouldn’t let me visit Santa so I could
tell him what I want for Christmas.” “Trixie, that
line was a mile long.” Honey rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Besides, I
think there’s some sort of age limit to do that.” “Well, there’s
no age limit on buying pretzels,” Trixie retorted. “C’mon, Honey! Can’t we
just take a little break? My feet
and legs are killing me.” “I’m kind of tired,
too,” Honey admitted, albeit reluctantly. She glanced down at Trixie’s
packages. “Who do you have left to shop for?” “Only Jim and
Diana. And I already saw a purple cashmere sweater in Macy’s that would be
perfect for Di.” Honey gave a smile
of concession. “All right. How about you go find us a table and I’ll get us a
snack? My treat.” “Feeling guilty
about almost shopping me to death?” “Actually, with all
those bags you’re carrying, it’ll take too long for you to get out your
wallet to find a few bucks, and we can’t waste any time.” Honey grinned as she
nodded her head in the direction of the tables designated for the pretzel
stand patrons. “Now, go grab that table before somebody else does. It’s the
only one left.” “It’ll be my
pleasure,” Trixie agreed enthusiastically. She forced herself to hustle over
to the unoccupied table, set down her purchases in one of the extra chairs,
and then plopped down wearily in a seat of her own as she waited for Honey to
return. Groaning slightly, she loosened the laces of her tennis shoes and
freed her aching feet from their leather prison. Her groan was quickly
transformed into a sigh of contentment as she enjoyed the brief respite from
her holiday torture. “You’d better not
get too comfortable,” Honey
commented as she handed Trixie a warm pretzel and a glass of tart lemonade.
“We’re not staying here long.” “You’re such a
dictator,” Trixie teased as she nibbled her treat. She planned to make it
last as long as possible, an action which didn’t go unnoticed by Honey.
“Someone ought to report you to the North Pole.” “And don’t even try
to milk that pretzel for an hour or two,” Honey remarked sternly. “We’re
leaving this table in twenty minutes.” “Shew-ee,” Trixie
mumbled under her breath. “Someone’s
really cracking the whip.” Honey giggled as she
made the motion of snapping a whip in Trixie’s direction. “And don’t you
forget it, either. The Grinch has nothin’ on me.” “You have to admit
that sitting down sure feels good. We’ve done so much walking that my
blisters have blisters.” “At least you’re
almost finished,” Honey declared brightly. “We’ve made good time.” Trixie nodded in
agreement. “Thanks for coming with me, Hon. I know I did a lot of griping
this morning, but I couldn’t have gotten so much done without your help.” “Hey, what’re best
friends for?” After taking a sip of her cola, Honey asked, “So, you only have
Diana and Jim left on your list, right?” “Yeah.” “You’re getting
that sweater for Di, but what’re you getting for Jim?” Trixie shrugged as
she popped a piece of torn-off pretzel into her mouth. “I don’t have the
faintest idea.” “Did you ask him
what he wanted?” “Yes.” Honey pursed her
lips in a thoughtful manner. “Well, what does he want?” “Something he isn’t
going to get,” Trixie answered with a definitive snort. “Why aren’t you
getting him what he asked for?” Honey inquired quizzically. “Is somebody else
giving it to him?” “For Jim’s sake, I
certainly hope not!” Honey’s
golden-brown eyebrows knitted to express her confusion. “What on earth did he
ask for?” For several
seconds, Trixie kept her lips clamped shut. However, after releasing a
troubled sigh, she murmured, “A baby.” “A baby?” Honey
repeated excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me that you two were talking about
starting a family?” “Because we aren’t talking about it,” Trixie
corrected. “Jim is doing the
talking, and I’m doing the arguing.” Honey’s gaze
softened as she studied her best friend. Aside from Jim, there was nobody who
knew Trixie better than Honey, and it was obvious to the tawny-haired girl that
there was more to this situation than met the eye. “You’ve always
wanted children,” she pointed out gently. “Is there some reason you’ve
changed your mind?” “I haven’t changed
my mind,” Trixie argued. “I do want
kids; I’m just not sure if now is the right time.” “If you’re worried
about the agency—” “It has nothing to
do with work,” Trixie interrupted. “Then what is it?” Trixie exhaled
deeply, almost wishing she were shopping instead of discussing this
particular subject. “It’s kind of complicated.” “We’ve still got
fifteen minutes,” Honey replied after a quick peek at her watch. “Start
talking.” Knowing it was
futile to argue with her stubborn sister-in-law, Trixie began pleading her
case. “Do you remember that goldfish I had on my desk a few months ago?” Honey was
completely dumbfounded. “Umm… yeah, but what does that have to do with you
having a baby?” “Do you remember
how I forgot to feed that poor fish for a yet-undetermined amount of time,
and it died?” “Uh, yeah.” “Well, how am I supposed
to take care of a baby when I can’t remember to dump a few dried up worm
flakes into a bowl every day?” Trixie demanded huffily. Honey had to force
herself not to chuckle at the absurdity of the comparison. “Remembering to
feed a baby is a little different than feeding a fish, don’t you think?” “That fish floated
upside-down two weeks before I even noticed something was wrong!” Trixie
blustered. “It’d probably still be
doing the dead-fish float in the bowl if you hadn’t informed me of Mr.
Fishie’s unfortunate demise.” “Trixie, a fish is
nothing like a baby,” Honey replied calmly. “I’m sure any child related to
Mart won’t sit by quietly with an empty belly. If you forget to feed him or
her, you’ll know.” “But it’s such a
huge responsibility.” Trixie’s shoulders slumped as she fought an internal
battle. “There’re diapers to change, baths to give, fingernails to clip,
bottles to sterilize… It’s too much for me to handle.” Honey smiled
encouragingly. “You did that stuff with Bobby.” “Yeah, and look how
he turned out,” Trixie joked. “Seriously, there’s so much to consider before
having a baby. I’ve only mentioned the physical responsibilities; I can’t
even fathom the emotional ones.” “It is a lot to think about,” Honey
conceded. “You bet it is!” Trixie
slapped the table so vigorously that she almost knocked over her drink. “Have
you ever watched Jerry Springer? There are people on his show every day
who’ve been completely screwed up by their parents.” “Trix, I don’t
think any child of yours and Jim’s will end up on the talk show circuit,”
Honey said, chuckling. “Your mom and dad set a wonderful example for you, and
although Jim’s biological parents died when he was young, they left a lasting
impression on him. I’ve always thought that after all he’s been through, Win
and Katje Frayne are the reason Jim’s so normal today.” Trixie nodded, her
gaze focused on the tabletop. “And you’ve just hit the nail on the head,” she
observed quietly. “What do you mean?” “Moms is the
perfect mother,” Trixie explained. “And so was Katje. How in the world am I
supposed to be the kind of mother they were? With my job, I don’t have time
to bake homemade cookies, knit scarves, or drive in the soccer mom
carpool.” “Sweetie, you don’t
have to do all that stuff to be a good mom,” Honey encouraged. “I’m sure your
little boy or girl would be just as happy to eat store-bought Oreos after
school, as long as you’re there to eat them with him.” Trixie still looked
unconvinced. “Besides, no mother
is perfect,” Honey continued. “No matter how wonderful Moms is, she hasn’t
done everything right. I’m sure she’s burned a roast once or twice.” “I doubt it,”
Trixie snickered. Honey decided to
take a new angle. “Well, Trix, even if you do occasionally mess up, it doesn’t mean your child is
necessarily ruined. Look at me and my mom. We barely spoke when we first
moved to Sleepyside, but now we’re very close. You don’t have to be perfect
to love and to be loved. Your baby will think you’re the best mother in the
world.” Trixie nodded
slowly as she digested Honey’s words of wisdom. “Besides, it’s not
like you’re going to have to do this alone,” Honey added. “Any baby Bob-White
is going to have several uncles and aunties, waiting in the wings to help.
We’ll all be nearby to lend a hand.” “That’s definitely
true,” Trixie said with a laugh. “When we said that we were one for all and
all for one, we meant it— even when it comes to changing dirty, stinky
diapers.” Honey smiled as she
reached over and patted her friend’s hand. “Listen, it’s none of my business
whether you have a baby now or not; that’s for you and Jim to decide.
However, if I were you, I wouldn’t let these worries we’ve discussed be the
deciding factor. Both you and Jim have always been able to do whatever you
put your minds to, especially when you work together. I know that includes
being terrific parents.” “Thanks, Hon.”
Trixie returned the smile as she squeezed Honey’s hand. “Now, as much as
I’ve enjoyed our little break, we still have shopping to do,” Honey announced
as she stood up from the table. “And unfortunately, you still have no idea
what you’re getting for Jim.” Trixie’s expression
grew thoughtful as she put her shoes back on. With a new resolve, she tossed
their trash into a nearby garbage can and then began gathering her shopping
bags. “Actually, I just thought of the perfect gift for the man who has
everything.” She paused momentarily, and then added, “I need to stop at Home
Depot...” Christmas Eve night, at Jim and
Trixie’s… The weather outside
was frightful, but the fire in the Fraynes’ hearth was most definitely
delightful. Flames crackled merrily in the stone fireplace, casting shadows
on the stockings hanging from the oak mantle. Several candles around the room
had been lit, causing the smell of cinnamon and apples to linger in the air.
In front of the window, a stately blue spruce stood proudly, colorful
ornaments and twinkling white lights adorning its boughs. The velvety smooth
voice of Bing Crosby crooning “Silent Night” filtered from the state-of-the-art
sound system and helped to create a festive atmosphere. In front of the
tree, Jim and Trixie sat, surrounded by mounds of discarded gift wrap, bows,
clothing, books, and assorted other gifts. Trixie excitedly ripped the paper
from her final gift. She whooped with joy as she saw a top-of-the-line
cappuccino maker. “Oh, thank you,
thank you, thank you!” she cried. “It’s exactly what I wanted!” “Now you can have a
cappuccino anytime you want,” Jim said, his emerald-colored eyes twinkling as
he beheld his wife’s happiness. “I can’t wait to
try it out,” Trixie murmured as she briefly inspected the box. It didn’t take
her long to put down the present and shift her attention to the one who had
presented it to her. She wrapped her arms around his well-formed bicep and
snuggled against his shoulder. “I love it, Jim.” “Surely you can do
better than that,” was his teasing response. Never one to balk
from a challenge, Trixie slid her hands up her husband’s chest, a sultry
smile on her face. “You know how I love a good cappuccino, but it can’t even
compare to how much I love you.” Jim’s breath grew
ragged as he anticipated the kiss he knew was coming. “Is that so?” “Yes, that’s so.”
Her lips trembled as they traveled to Jim’s. No matter how many kisses they
had shared before, each subsequent one made her tingle from head to toe. As
long as she lived, she’d never tire of the feeling of Jim’s mouth on hers.
Pulses racing, hearts pounding, hands exploring, tongues dancing… Each kiss
elevated the lovers to a new high. She was slightly
surprised as Jim pulled away. “Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered huskily,
desire causing the green of his eyes to deepen. As if functioning
on autopilot, Trixie wordlessly stood to her feet. Just as she was about to
lead him to their bedroom, she gave a yelp and covered her mouth with her
hands. “Wait!” she yelped.
“You have one more present to open!” Jim reached up and
clasped one of her hands in an attempt to pull her down to him. “I’ll open it
later.” “After all the
trouble I went through to get it? No way!” Trixie concluded her rampage with
a snort. “I’ll be right back!” “Hurry.” With a
grin that was a mixture of amusement and bemusement, Jim watched her
departure, hoping her return would be hasty. Several minutes
later, Trixie came back into the living room, sliding a large box across the
hardwood floor. “The lady who was working at the gift-wrapping counter
officially hates me now,” she joked as she tugged on the gaily wrapped
package. Jim deftly hopped up
from his spot in front of the tree to help her. “What in the world…?” he
began as he picked up the box and carried it back to where they were sitting. “Special delivery
for the man who has everything!” Trixie announced gaily. Although she hated
shopping for gifts, there was nothing she loved more than giving them. Her
eyes sparkled as she anticipated Jim’s reaction to the present she had chosen
for him. “Open it!” Jim’s ginger brows
were drawn together in a crease of puzzlement as he studied the large present.
However, he didn’t need to be told twice to open it. Anxious to see what was
inside, he ripped the wrapping paper from the box, revealing a
ready-to-assemble woodworking bench. “Oh, babe,” he
gasped. “This is great!” “It’s much better
than that makeshift thing you’re using now,” Trixie told him, smiling.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw moisture on Jim’s cheek. Her
smile faded as she stated flatly, “You don’t like it. Did I get the wrong
one?” “No, no!” he
emphatically denied. Jim turned to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I
love it, sweetheart; I promise I do. I just had a memory of watching Dad work
at his woodworking bench, and it made me think of him.” “I hope it was a
happy memory,” she whispered. “It was,” he
answered with a sentimental smile. Trixie couldn’t
help but hope that someday, Jim would be able to work at that same bench with
his own son. “I know it’s not exactly what you asked for,” she apologized. “Oh, Trixie.” Sensing
her apprehension, Jim pulled his wife into his strong embrace. “I do want to have a baby, but not until
you’re ready. I never want to push you into anything.” Trixie looked up at
him through a thick fan of sandy lashes. “So, you like your bench?” “No, I love my bench!” “I’m glad.” A
mischievous grin parted Trixie’s lips. “Because it could take a while for
your other gift to get here.” Jim inhaled
sharply. “What do you mean?” Instead of
answering his question, Trixie asked a new one. “Why don’t you ask me why I
got you that particular present?” “Why did you get me
this particular present?” he repeated, numb from surprise. Grinning like the
Cheshire cat, Trixie made her case. “Well, you once told me that your father
made your baby bed, and I thought that maybe you would want to make a crib
for your own child.” “For my child?” Jim
paraphrased weakly. “And since it takes
nine months for a baby to be born, you’d better get started on that,” she
said matter-of-factly. Jim’s mouth fell
open, but it took several seconds until any words were able to come out of
it. “Does that mean you’re…?” Trixie shook her
head. “Not yet. But since it’s a well-known fact that anything worth doing,
you do well, I thought you’d better start on that crib as soon as possible
because it probably won’t take long for you to get me pregnant.” She applied
a quick kiss to his lips, and then purred, “Of course, it wouldn’t be a
tragedy if you didn’t get this right the first time and we had to try a few
more times…” Jim shook his head
in disbelief as if he were trying to make sense of Trixie’s change of heart.
“Are you sure about this, Trix?” he managed to choke out. “Because if you
aren’t—” “The only thing I’m
surer about is my love for you.” Judging by the obvious love in her eyes as
she looked at him, she was positive. “What changed your
mind?” he asked, shock still causing him to speak slowly. “You seemed pretty
reluctant to even talk about it this morning.” Trixie smiled
secretly. “Actually it was your sister. She helped me work through some of my
issues.” “Issues?” Jim’s
forehead creased with concern. “What kind of issues did you have, Trix?” Trixie reached up
and ran her fingers through his hair. “It was silly really,” she hedged. “What was it, Trix?
Talk to me.” “I started worrying
that I wouldn’t measure up to Moms,” she reluctantly admitted. “Being a
mother is a lot of responsibility, and I wasn’t sure I was up for it.” Jim chuckled.
“That’s ridiculous, sweetheart. You’re going to make a wonderful mother.” “I’ll never be as
good as Moms, but I can try.” “Moms was the
perfect mother for you and your brothers,” Jim told her, “but you’ll be the
perfect mother for our kids.” “I never thought of
it that way,” Trixie remarked. “And it’s not like
you’ll be doing the parenting by yourself,” Jim pointed out. “We’ll do it
together, Shamus.” “Indeed we are,”
she agreed with a smile. “Now, speaking of ‘doing it’…” Her smile suddenly
grew quite mischievous. “Yes, I believe we
have some unfinished business,” Jim said, his green eyes pulsating with
desire as he caressed the soft skin under the collar of her sweater. “Do you want me to
change into that red nightie?” she asked with a waggle of her eyebrows. Jim shook his head.
“I’d just be taking it off anyway,” he murmured as he lowered her onto the
rug in front of the fireplace. Before he leaned down to kiss her, he
whispered in a husky voice, “Thank you.” “For what?” “For giving me
everything.” The white lights of
the Christmas tree twinkled as the lovers slowly melded into one. As Trixie
enjoyed her husband’s caresses, she came to the happy conclusion that Jim
wasn’t the only one who had everything. The
End
When
I first learned that I had been assigned to Susan, I almost threw up because
I felt so inadequate for such monumental assignment. I might as well have
been assigned to write for Julie Campbell herself. Creating a story special
enough for one of my favorite authors (one of my favorite people, to be more
precise!) in the whole world proved to be a daunting task. Not only is she a
gifted author, she is also a precious friend.
I thought and thought about what I
should write. I tried to include lots of Susan’s favorite redhead, a few
private jokes, a healthy dose of friendship, and most of all, a whole bunch
of smush! Although the final product fell short of my expectations, this
story was written with genuine admiration and affection for the recipient. A
thank you the size of Texas going out to my faithful editor and cherished
friend, Steph H. Steph, I love you, and I stand unworthy of the gift of your
friendship. Thank you so much for all you do. For
the record, Martha Stewart does not smoke crack. Well, not that I know of… Crate
and Barrel is a home goods store that I can’t see Trixie shopping at, no matter
how desperate she is. In
case there is any question, Honey is not the evil overlord that Trixie makes
her out to be. I just enjoyed exploring Trixie’s dramatic side. *veg* The
best blueberry croissants in the entire world can be found in a little shop
on Monhegan Island. They are truly to die for! I
couldn’t resist a mention of the Bing Crosby/Johnny Mathis war that always
takes place at Jix this time of year. And Susan, I’m with you; Bing is the
man. For
additional holiday stories not found in my regular universes, go to the Indie
Features
page at The Cameo. And
last but certainly not least, merry, merry Christmas to all from The Cameo
and Dark Orchid Productions!
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