Rated Blue star for all readers.
The clubhouse was cozy, with a fire burning brightly in the woodstove. Light snow continued to fall outside and the gathered seven Bob-Whites happily sipped hot chocolate and munched on Diana’s fudge brownies.
“I know this much sugar can’t possibly be good for me, but, boy, this is so good.” Brian reached for another sweet treat and bit into it appreciatively.
“You could sell these, Di. They’re so delicious,” Honey suggested.
“Oh, I just threw them together,” Di protested, blushing. “They’re nothing special.”
“You should make more for Christmas,” Mart suggested. “That way you can iron out any kinks.”
“My brother the humanitarian,” Trixie sniffed, but her blue eyes twinkled. “I can hardly believe that it is Christmas in just a few weeks.”
“It sure has come around fast this year,” Dan agreed.
“I just wish something would happen.” Trixie leaned back against the sofa and sipped her hot chocolate. “We haven’t had a mystery or project in ages.”
Mart snorted inelegantly. “Do I need to regurgitate all of the events and complicated constructs that have permeated and shaped our existence over the past six months?”
“Gosh, I hope not.” Trixie shuddered. “I’m pretty sure I’d get indigestion if you did.”
The others laughed and Jim slipped an arm around Trixie’s shoulders. “I’m almost scared to say this, Trix, but I kind of agree with you. Things have been a little quiet lately.”
“And we do have a quiet Christmas at home planned this year,” Brian added.
“I’m sure we can come up with something,” Honey said optimistically. “Or maybe something exciting will just turn up.”
“Sure it will,” Mart said with a grin. “Even now, the universe is performing strange and wonderous machinations. Before we know it a heretofore unimagined event of significance will—” He broke off, as there was a sharp knock at the door.
Seven pairs of eyes shifted to the clubhouse door as Honey called out, “Come in.”
Much to their surprise, Matthew Wheeler stepped into the room.
“I hope you don’t mind me interrupting this Bob-White meeting.”
There was a chorus of nos.
“I think Trixie’s impatience must be contagious,” Mr. Wheeler said with a smile. “But I couldn’t wait to share this news.”
“What is it, Dad?” Jim asked eagerly.
“The Bob-Whites, well Trixie and Honey particularly, have been invited to a very special meeting. It is only a few days before Christmas, but I’m hoping you all have the time to come along.”
“Well, sure, Dad,” Jim said. “If you want us to.”
“Without knowing what it is?” Matthew Wheeler smiled at the group.
“You wouldn’t ask us if it wasn’t important, Daddy,” Honey said and the others nodded.
“But you are going to tell is what it is, aren’t you, Mr. Wheeler?” Trixie implored.
“I most certainly am,” he replied. And did.
***
The December afternoon was dull and graying as the light faded and evening began to wrap its fingers around the nation’s capital. Light snow was falling, but the DC streets and houses were lined with festive lights, celebrating the season.
“Oh, Trixie, can you believe it? Can you?” Honey Wheeler settled into the back seat of the car that was ferrying her, Trixie, and their appointed companion from the apartment they were staying in to their destination. Her wide hazel eyes were sparkling with both anxiety and anticipation.
Trixie shook her head so vigorously that her short sandy curls bounced. “I can’t, Honey. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I must be dreaming.”
Honey nodded. “The White House, Trix. We’re going to the actual White House. Where the President lives.”
“I know. Oh, Honey. It’s a Christmas miracle.”
***
“Donna! Don..na!” Josh Lyman ran his hand through his already unruly hair as he stared disbelievingly at his computer screen.
“You bellowed?” Donna Moss, assistant to the White House Deputy Chief of Staff, stood in the doorway of her boss’s office, regarding him with a look of pained resignation.
“What is this? What is this?” Josh stabbed at the computer screen on his desk as he spoke.
Donna’s fair brows lifted and she closed her eyes for a moment.
“What are you doing? Taking a nap? Meditating?” Josh demanded.
Donna sighed. “I’m trying to engage my psychic detection skills or possibly my x-ray vision. That way I’d know what you’re using your stubby finger to point at.”
“You do remember I haven’t handed over your Christmas gift, yet, right?”
“True.” Donna crossed the office to stand beside him. “And to be fair, in spite of the fact that you are not affectionately known as Mr. Generosity, you have been known to surprise me.” She leaned down, her long blonde hair falling over her shoulder, and fixed her gaze on the computer screen. “Hosting young achievers’ guests Trixie Belden and Madeleine Wheeler,” she read, slowly and clearly.
“I can read,” Josh snapped.
“I thought so,” Donna observed. “So, what’s your question then?”
“What is this? I mean, who are they? And more importantly, why are they on my schedule? three days before Christmas.”
“It is what is says it is. They are Trixie Belden and Madeleine Wheeler and they’re on your schedule because Leo put them there.”
“I’m rethinking your Christmas bonus right now.”
“I can forge your signature, you know. Besides, you don’t actually give bonuses.”
Between you and Margaret, you could do a lot of damage.”
“Personally, I think we’d do just fine.”
“Back to this. Have I mislaid the calendar? Is this big block of cheese day?”
“Funny. Misguided, but funny. Wrong, but funny. If you cast your tiny mind, I mean your impressively large brain, back a few weeks to a meeting of senior staff where C.J. gave out a list of young people who were receiving special recognition for their contribution to our great nation, you might recall that we were all assigned our own guests to host during a visit to our hallowed halls. We have two fifteen-year-old girls who helped bring down an international crime ring.”
“For real?” Josh said.
“Yes. And Leo and C.J. said you have to be nice to them. Pay attention to them. Be hospitable. Spend time with them. Get your photo taken with them. It’s Christmas, after all.”
“But I’m the White House Deputy Chief of Staff.”
“Yes, Josh, you are. It’s nice that you know that. And as Deputy Chief of Staff part of your job—”
“Is to babysit a couple of kids?”
Donna shot him a look of pity. “Is to do what Leo tells you.”
“And whose bright idea was it for us to play host to two teenage girls, three days before Christmas?”
Donna smiled ruefully and shook her head. “Josh, Josh, Joshua, Josh. That would be yours.”
***
“It’s a nice time to visit our capital, isn’t it?” The older woman sitting alongside the driver in the front seat turned to smile at the two teenagers.
“Washington is pretty impressive at Christmas, isn’t it, Trix?” Honey pulled her gaze from the passing scenery and smiled at her friend.
“It sure is,” Trixie agreed. “And how lucky are we that we have your dad’s apartment to stay in. It’s much nice than a hotel.”
“I stayed in way too many of those growing up,” Honey said. “And Christmas is about family and trees and snow and Christmas movies. Even though we’ll be home for actual Christmas, I always feel like Christmas starts days before.”
“Or months before when you’re you. You are so super organized with your Christmas shopping. It’s a little crazy how early you start.”
“I like to start early,” Honey huffed. “And I’m not that early, and I only use plain old-fashioned lists. Brian has an excel spreadsheet to keep track of his present buying.”
“Well, we all know what he’s like.” Trixie dismissed her eldest brother with a wave of her hand.
“Yes, we do.” Honey said, deliberately misinterpreting her friend.
“Are you nervous, Hon?” Trixie did her best to return some kind of order to her curls and rubbed ineffectually at the freckles on her nose.
Honey nodded, checking her own reflection in the tiny mirror she’d pulled from her purse. “Terrified and excited at the same time. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got kittens in my stomach.”
“Don’t you mean butterflies?” Trixie grinned at her friend.
“Way bigger than butterflies,” Honey said.
“I thought maybe you’d be more…you know, used to it.”
“Used to going to the White House? Trix, I’ve never been there before.”
“But your folks are….”
“Rich?” Honey chuckled.
“Connected,” Trixie returned, pleased that she’d been able to come up with the right word.
“Well, mother and dad have both met presidents before and been to an occasional event to support candidates, but neither have ever been to the actual White House.”
“But on opposite sides, right?” Trixie had never really given that much thought to politics, but you had to when you were going to meet the President of the United States.
Honey shrugged. “I guess so. I mean mother’s a democrat and dad’s a republican, but they’re both…centrists? I think that’s the right way to describe it. You know, kind of leaning towards the middle. They both like President Bartlet, though. Mother adores him.”
“Mine, too,” Trixie agreed. “And Mart…he says President Bartlet is one of the greatest ora..something ever. Ever since we found out we were coming to DC, he’s been talking about becoming a speechwriter. Who knew that that was an actual job?”
“I do feel guilty about it just being us,” Honey said, chewing on one of her finger nails. “I mean, we were all there when Lontard was caught.”
Trixie nodded. “I know. I agree with you, but Brian said we were the ones who really worked everything out.”
“Jim said the same. He said we should just enjoy it, but that’s hard, because I’d feel better if we were all going, even Di, though she wasn’t with us when it happened. Though I’m glad she is now. Well not actually here and actually now, but back at the apartment with the other Bob-Whites. And anyway, I hate thinking about Lontard and that awful time, and it’s almost Christmas, and I’m worried I’m going to start rambling when we meet the President’s staff. Thank goodness he’ll be too busy to meet us himself, because if that happened….” Honey trailed off. “I’m rambling now, aren’t I?”
“Not as far as I’m concerned,” Trixie said with a decided nod of her head. “You always make sense to me. I think it’s everyone else who’s a little off.”
Honey laughed. “Thanks, partner. You’re the best.”
No American could fail to recognize the iconic white building that had served as the official residence of the President since President John Adams and his wife Abigail moved in before it was even completed. It had been through fire and multiple renovations, but it remained a symbol of the nation whose leader it housed and a visit to its respected halls was much prized.
To see the White House during the holiday season was of particular delight. The huge fir tree, which graced President’s park and came to life late November, was a national attraction and the approaching Sleepysiders were not disappointed. They finally arrived and Trixie and Honey followed their companion through the visitors’ gate. As they approached the entrance, the woman with them held out the papers in her folder and handed over some sort of identification.
Each girl was handed a lanyard, which they placed around their respective necks.
“This is Trixie Belden and Madeleine, I mean, Honey, Wheeler. The recipients of our Law and Order Young Citizenship Award.” The woman who had acted as the girls’ liaison and guide smiled. “I’ll leave you girls with Miss Moss,” she said. She stood aside and they were ushered forward.
“I’m Donna Moss.” The tall, slender blonde held out her hand and Trixie and Honey shook it in turn. “I’m the senior assistant to Josh Lyman, who is the deputy chief of staff to the President.”
“That kind of makes you the deputy deputy Chief of Staff, doesn’t it?” Trixie quipped, then flushed.
“That’s exactly what I said. Only nobody seemed to get it.” Donna held her hands up in a gesture of confusion.
“How weird,” Honey said, forgetting to be nervous. “Because that’s just logical.”
“I know.” Donna smiled at them both. “I can see you two are smart as well as brave.”
“Oh, I’m not brave,” Honey said swiftly.
“Donna!” A man’s voice yelled from some distance away.
“Let’s put that to the test, shall we?” Donna nodded her head and gestured for them to follow her.
“This is Josh Lyman, the President’s Deputy Chief of Staff. Josh, this is Trixie Belden and Honey Wheeler. They’re recipients of the Young Citizenship Award—law and order.”
Donna directed the two teenagers to take a seat, and then propped herself on the edge of her boss’s desk.
“You’re crime fighters?” Josh almost managed to hide the smile that played on his lips.
“I don’t know about that,” Trixie said, while Honey shook her head vigorously.
“Did you have a good trip?” Donna asked, shooting her boss a warning look.
“Yes, thank you. We flew in yesterday morning and we’re staying at an apartment downtown.
“Why don’t you tell us about the incident that brought you here and then Donna can take you on your tour.”
“It was a while ago,” Trixie said. “More than a year. A lot has happened since then.”
“Right.” Josh said. “Are you saying you don’t remember?”
“Oh, no. I mean we do remember. We’re just surprised to be here for that mystery.”
“It’s just that this isn’t exactly our favorite mystery,” Honey explained apologetically.
“You have a favorite mystery?” Josh asked. “You’ve had enough mysteries to have a favorite mystery? Who are you two? Lucy Radcliffe?”
“Oh, we love Lucy.” Trixie beamed at Josh.
“What is your favorite mystery?” Donna asked.
”Well, there was the time when Trixie stopped dapper Dick the jewel thief. That was a big thing,” Honey said. “And we started the Bob-Whites then.”
“Dapper Dick?” Josh repeated.
“Oh, he was just a nasty little man and besides, that wasn’t just me,” Trixie protested. “What about when you saved Sally Darnell’s life? That’s real heroism.”
“People save other people from drowning all the time!” Honey declared. “That’s not heroic.”
“Kind of is to the person who’s drowning,” Josh observed, eyeing the two teenagers with a mix of amusement and puzzlement.
“What about those terrible sheep rustlers at your Uncle’s farm?” Honey asked. “I was so afraid up on that barn roof.”
“Sheep rustlers?” Josh lifted a brow in Donna’s direction. Donna merely smiled.
“And Blinky?” Honey shuddered. “With that scar and everything. He was scary.”
“Blinky? With the scar.” Josh turned to Donna. “Dapper Dick and Blinky? You’re messing with me now, aren’t you? This whole thing is like a Christmas prank. Toby or C.J.?”
“Neither. Because this is not a prank, which you would know if you read your schedule. You can still read, right? It’s over an hour since we last checked.” Donna moved closer to her boss and delivered a sharp kick.
“Ow.” Josh rubbed his shin.
“It really isn’t a prank, Mr. Lyman,” Honey said earnestly. “They were real people who we sort of helped capture. At least Trixie did mostly. And Lontard is another one. Maybe the scariest of all.”
“I nearly got us killed that time.” Trixie looked miserable.
“You did not. I was the one who nearly got us killed.” Honey grabbed her friend’s arm.
“Oh, my god.” Donna looked from one teenager to the other. “What happened?”
“I acted without thinking,” Trixie replied glumly.
“I trusted the wrong people,” Honey added.
“I knew we shouldn’t go with them.” Trixie frowned.
“I made you,” Honey insisted.
“And yet, here we are,” Josh said, wondering how long they might go on. “You must have eventually done something right?”
“I guess the fact that we got involved in the first place is why we’re here,” Trixie admitted.
“Yes. Trixie was smart enough to know there was something odd about those papers we found.”
“You all helped. You especially. And I did plenty of dumb things.”
“We do dumb things all the time, don’t we, Josh?” Donna appealed to her boss.
“I don’t think I’d care to characterize our administration quite like that, but there have been times when dumb actions have had good outcomes.”
“Well, that’s us,” Trixie said with a decisive nod of her head.
“All the time,” Honey added.
“I’m going to leave you in Donna’s tender hands, and we’ll meet in the mural room in.” Josh consulted his watch— “Half an hour?”
Donna nodded and led the two teenagers out of Josh’s office.
“Let’s start in the Grand foyer,” Donna said. “It’s pretty amazing at Christmas.”
Trixie and Honey followed the blonde woman down the corridor, their gazes shooting left and right, taking in the bustle as Donna indicated offices and people moving and talking at, what seemed to them, breakneck speed.
Much to their surprise, in spite of the significance of their location, the rooms were relatively ordinary. But as they passed from the working hub to the grand foyer, ordinary was not a word anyone would have used.
Long, trailing leaves of holly surrounded the doorways and there were four huge trees, each one glistening with masses of glass ornaments. The lights above them bounced off the balls, throwing patterns of light across the floor.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” Honey breathed. “Isn’t it, Trix?”
Trixie nodded her head, her blue eyes wide with wonder. “Those trees are so tall. Almost as tall as the ones in your preserve.”
“And look at these little scenes on the tables.” Trixie crossed the floor to study the tiny snow frosted tableau—a picture perfect white-frame house— a barn, a tall fir tree.
“It could almost be Crabapple Farm,” Honey said, moving to join her friend.
“You’re right. Look, Honey, there’s Reddy and Bobby.” Trixie pointed to a small red dog and a boy, playing near the tree.
“Is that what your house is like?” Donna asked, coming to stand beside them.
Trixie nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Then it must be lovely.”
“I think so.”
“Let’s see what you think of the Roosevelt room.”
“This room is beautiful.” Honey’s hazel eyes took in the history and her imagination took flight at the idea of all the conversations that had taken place there n the room in which she stood.
“It is nice, isn’t it? That’s why I thought we’d have our snack in here.” Donna poured hot chocolate for the two teenagers, then coffee for herself.
“How’s the tour going?” Josh Lyman entered the room and smiled genially at the group.
“Oh, it’s wonderful,” Honey enthused. “We just love this Mural room. And we’ve seen the Roosevelt Room and the Press briefing room. Donna showed us the foyer with all of its gorgeous decorations. And we met Ginger and Bonnie.”
“All the highlights,” Josh acknowledged.
“I sometimes get the Roosevelts confused,” Trixie observed.
“Sam did that once,” Donna said.
“Sam Seaborn? My brother idolizes him,” Trixie said. “He loves words.”
“So does Sam.” Donna smiled.
“We’re sorry we couldn’t get you in to see the President,” Josh said. “But he has a pretty full calendar.”
“Oh, no. We wouldn’t have wanted that,” Honey said with an emphatic nod of her head.
“You’re not a fan?” Josh regarded her with a sort of vague disbelief.
“Oh, no, no! I mean yes, yes. Of course I’m a fan. I think President Bartlet is an excellent president. Whenever I see him on television, I think we’re so lucky he’s our president, but as for actually meeting him…well, no, I couldn’t. I would be so intimidated, well, maybe not exactly intimidated because he seems very nice, but….” Honey trailed off. “Sorry, I ramble sometimes.”
“We call it Honeyspeak,” Trixie put in helpfully. “But I don’t have any problem understanding it.”
“Honestly,” Josh returned. “Neither do I. I get a lot of practice with rambling.” He turned his gaze on Donna who merely shrugged.
“It’s just that our minds move faster than other people’s,” Donna observed.
“So, oh ye of the speedy mind, didn’t you say something about taking a photo while we present the awards?” Josh asked.
“I thought this was the best place for the photograph,” Donna said. “I’ll just go—” she broke off as two men, both in suits, tell-tale earpieces clearly visible, burst into the room. “We’re crashed, Mr. Lyman,” one of them said.
“I’ll just go back to my….” Josh watched them go and was left staring at a closed door. “So,” he said, turning to face Trixie and Honey whose eyes were wide with apprehension. “This is what we call a crash.”
“A crash?” Honey repeated faintly.
“We have them all the time,” Donna put in. “Well, we don’t really, but we’ve heard a lot about them, so it’s nothing to worry about.”
“The White House has crashes all the time?” Trixie’s blue eyes registered alarm. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It sounds worse than it is,” Donna said.
“How long do crashes usually last?” Honey asked, twisting her hands in her lap.
“Not too long,” Josh replied. “Honestly, while they don’t happen all the time, they’re not uncommon.”
“Why?” Trixie looked from him to Donna. “If I’m allowed to ask.”
“I can’t give you details, Trixie, but sometimes it is a potential security issue. Mostly, it’s precautionary. Trust me, you’ll definitely be home for Christmas.” Josh’s tone was calm.
Honey looked vaguely horrified for a moment then caught Donna’s eyes and smiled. “We’re only staying in DC tonight and tomorrow night,” she explained. “Then we’re heading back to Sleepyside.”
“Dulles is crazy Christmas eve,” Josh said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Leave plenty of time.”
“We will,” Honey assured him.
“Though flying on Honey’s dad’s plane, it’s usually not too bad.” Trixie sipped her hot chocolate glad it had arrived before the crash.
“Right. Private plane. Didn’t really see that coming.” Josh said.
“We fly on a private plane,” Donna pointed out.
“Airforce one is not a private plane, Donna. It’s the most non-private plane in America.”
“Fine. We fly on a government plane that is only for a selected few people, bypasses queues and normal security checks, and is filled with huge armchairs and a dining room and—”
“You can shut up now,” Josh said.
“See how I’m treated?” Donna grinned at Honey and Trixie.
***
Diana stood back and admired the tree Jim and Dan had set up in the corner of the apartment living room.
The apartment itself was large and spacious, typical of older Georgetown, with large, paned, colonial windows, high ceilings, and dark wood floors. Following the acquisition of a tech company based in DC, Matthew Wheeler had been spending a lot of time in the nation’s capital and had ultimately decided he needed a permanent base to work from.
Luckily for the Bob-Whites, this meant they had a very comfortable place to stay.
“Oh, I do think it’s lovely.” Diana clasped her hands together and smiled.
“It’s really pretty good for a fake,” Mart agreed.
“Are you sure your dad won’t mind us doing this?” Brian asked. “We’re not actually going to be here for Christmas.”
“Miss Craven told me that she puts up and trims a tree, even though she goes home to Killington for Christmas every year.” Diana said, referring to one of their teachers.
“Well, that seems reasonable to me,” Dan observed.
“It’s a fair bit of effort, if you’re not home for the holidays,” Brian said.
“She does it for her cat,” Diana explained. “Thalia adores the tree. She showed me pictures and everything.”
"That makes a lot more sense.” Brian grinned.
“Dad told me we could decorate if we felt like it,” Jim returned. “And we do.”
“Do you think we should wait until Honey and Trixie get back to trim the tree?” Di turned from one Bob-White to the next.
“Are you kidding?” Mart spoke first.
“I wouldn’t want them to feel left out,” Diana explained.
“I think they’ll cope,” Brian said with a smile.
“They are at the White House,” Mart added. “The White House. Meeting White House staff and being honored for their bravery. I can’t see them getting their respective proboscides out of joint.”
“He probably has a point.” Dan grinned.
“I agree,” Jim said. “And I know where there’s a box of decorations, too. Let’s get on it.”
***
“So, you weren’t actually kidding about dapper Dick or Blinky?” Josh poured himself more coffee from the pot on the tray and settled back in his chair. “Or the sheep rustlers either,” he said. “You’ve also raised money for UNICEF, unmasked crooks, counterfeiters, and cleared up a scandal in horse racing. You really do have a lot of mysteries to choose from.”
“How did you find out all of that so fast?” Trixie asked, blue eyes round.
“I have skills,” Josh said with a smile.
Donna coughed
“I do,” Josh insisted. “You forget how skilled I am.”
Donna coughed again.
“Or how many agencies we have access to.” Josh added.
“Agencies?” Honey gulped. “You mean like the FBI or something?”
“That’s classified,” Josh, returned, not quite smothering his grin. “The point is that I now clearly understand how right it is that the two of you receive this award. You do good out there.”
“Thank you.” Trixie and Honey chorused, their faces flaming.
“That means a lot,” Honey added. “You do such important work here. And put yourselves at risk, too.”
Trixie nodded. “We were so sorry when you got shot.”
“Me, too,” Josh admitted. “We were just lucky that the Secret Service are so well trained.”
“They’re incredible,” Trixie said reverently.
“Ever considered the Secret Service as a possible career plan?” Josh queried.
Honey shook her head, but Trixie hesitated. “Honey and I want to be private detectives, we think, but sometimes I wonder about the Secret Service or even the FBI.”
“Not the CIA?” Josh looked from one girl to the other, his expression perfectly serious.
Honey’s head shake was more vehement this time. “We’re awful at keeping secrets. I mean, we can do it, like the time when Trixie gave her diamond ring to Mr. Lytell to save Brian’s car, or when we first found Jim and didn’t tell anyone, or when the Darnells stole, well, borrowed really, the Robin, but we’re not very good at it.”
“That’s true. I don’t think we’d make very good spies,” Trixie observed. “But we are pretty good at solving mysteries.”
“I can see that.”
“Have you both done all of your Christmas shopping?” Donna asked, changing the subject.
Both girls nodded, though Trixie added. “I still need to wrap mine, but at least I finally finished, this morning actually.”
“Me, too,” Honey said. “Have finished, I mean. I finished before we came to D.C and mine are wrapped.”
“She’s super-organised at Christmas,” Trixie explained. “She starts buying stuff in like April.”
“I do not,” Honey denied hotly. “I hardly ever buy anything before the end of August.”
“That’s still pretty early,” Trixie noted.
“Well, I don’t want to give ordinary old things like socks or something.” Honey wrinkled her nose.
“What about you, Mr. Lyman?” Trixie asked.
“Well, I’m actually Jewish,” Josh said. “But my mom always gets me gifts. Usually includes socks.” He grinned at Honey who flushed again.
“Socks are better than underwear though,” Trixie grumbled. “Aunt Alicia gave us all underwear a few years ago and it was disappointing and kind of embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing? I mean, I get that underwear is a pretty boring gift—though not always—but how is it embarrassing?” Josh leaned back in the armchair.
Trixie regarded him glumly. “Because I wasn’t impressed, I just shoved it in my bag and forgot about it. The next day at school when I was looking for a book in class, it fell out on the floor in front of everyone. Trust me, at twelve that’s pretty embarrassing.”
“But it was new underwear, right?” Josh asked with an innocent blink of his eyes.
“Of course.” Trixie made a face. “It even had the tags on, but still…”
“Donna has a good story about underwear,” Josh said with a grin.
“Josh.” Donna shot him a warning look. “You do remember who organizes all of your appointments, your flights home when you go there, or anywhere else for that matter, and pretty much everything in your petty little life, don’t you?”
“Yes. And you’ve done a sterling job as always. Cause you’ve already booked me for Christmas day. Though to be technically accurate, Donna, as I just pointed out, I’m Jewish. So, Christmas….”
“Oh, bah humbug.”
“Very politically correct. But getting back to underwear.”
“I can unbook that ticket, you know.”
“It’s a good story. It’s endearing.”
“Please tell us, Donna.” Honey smiled. “It will take our mind off the crash.”
Donna settled back in her chair. “It only happened because I am a caring, generous person. Who goes out her way to help a friend.”
“And with help like that,” Josh put in.
Donna made a face. “Anyway, I went to an art gallery to speak to Karen Cahill, who’s, well, it doesn’t really matter who she is, to try and help Sam. He’d accidentally told her there were nuclear weapons in Kyrgyzstan, which is wrong, obviously, and he felt terrible. Oh, and he was supposed to be making up for Leo making fun of her shoes. So, I went, and I was witty and composed.”
“And then you left your underwear on the floor,” Josh said.
“That was less witty and composed, I suppose.”
“Oh, your poor thing,” Honey sympathized. “How on earth did that happen?”
“It’s a mystery,” Donna returned weakly.
“You two are semi-professional mystery solvers,” Josh observed. “What do you think happened?”
“The elastic broke?” Honey hazarded with a frown.
“A reasonable assumption, but no.” Josh turned to Trixie.
The sandy haired girl thought for a moment and looked Donna up and down. “Did you wear the same trousers to work two days in a row?”
“Yes.” Donna regarded her admiringly. “Something I have never done again since.”
“I don’t blame you,” Honey said with a shudder. “Now, I’m never going to do that either.”
“Well, Karen kindly posted them back to us and then Leo asked the president to call Karen and explain that Donna wasn’t hitting on her.” Josh managed to keep a straight face.
“Did he?”
“I don’t think so. But I’m sure you’re impressed by your tax dollars at work.” Josh grinned. “Though I guess it’s your parents tax dollars at work. Assuming they pay tax.”
“I think so,” Trixie said. “My dad works at the Sleepyside bank. And Honey’s dad owns one of the biggest companies in America.”
Josh slapped his forehead with his hand. “Wait, Wheeler. Matthew Wheeler? Wheeler International?”
Honey nodded weakly.
“Well, that explains the private plane,” Josh said.
“You know Honey’s family?” Donna looked surprised.
“Most people know of Matthew Wheeler. Though the other side of the aisle is more familiar with him than we are.”
“Well, that’s fine,” Donna said brightly. “We know lots of nice Republicans. Ainsley Hayes, Jack Reece, Cliff Calley, well sort of nice.”
“Donna is so bipartisan she usually dates the nice republicans,” Josh noted with a look in his assistant’s direction.
“Well, my mother dated my father,” Honey said.
“Her mother’s a democrat,” Trixie supplied helpfully.
“That must have made family dinners interesting when Richie was running.” Josh drummed his fingers together.
“Not really,” Honey returned. “Daddy said when Governor Richie was running, ‘I’m a Republican—not an idiot.’ He didn’t like him very much. He said there were far better candidates.”
“Smart man.” Josh said. “How does he feel about having a mystery solver for a daughter.”
“He likes it better sometimes, rather than other times”,” Honey admitted.
“He wasn’t very happy about this mystery,” Trixie added. “The one we’re here for.”
“He blamed himself, which was silly,” Honey began before Josh interrupted.
“Seems to be a lot of blame going around with this particular mystery,” he said.
“That’s true,” Trixie agreed. “Our brothers blame themselves, too. We did tell you it wasn’t exactly our most favorite mystery.”
“Have you ever had a Christmas mystery?” Donna asked. “I love those British TV shows and they have good Christmas mysteries.”
“We did have one last year, just after Christmas at a ski lodge Honey’s dad wanted to buy.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Josh smiled. “Did he buy it?”
“He invested in it,” Honey confirmed. “It’s in Vermont. It’s an eco-lodge and it’s very beautiful.”
“An eco-lodge?” Josh raised his brows. “Now, that does surprise me.”
“Honey’s dad says you can make money and be environmentally responsible, too,” Trixie said.
“From his mouth to congress’s ears,” Josh said.
“Are you going home for Christmas, Donna?” Honey asked.
Donna shook her head. “Not this year. Normally, I’d be flying out to Wisconsin. I love being home for Christmas. But this year, I’m…staying in town.”
“In the spirit of bipartisanship and nice republicans,” Josh added.
“You might try it, Josh.” Donna assumed an air of superiority. “Your dating strategies could use some work.”
“While you may have a point, that’s a conversation we’re not going to have right now. Trixie, what about your family? Do you have any Christmas traditions?”
“Just the usual stuff, I guess,” Trixie replied. “Cutting down and trimming a tree, a turkey dinner, presents Christmas morning. That’s what we do every year. Though we did spend Christmas in Arizona at our friend Di’s uncle’s ranch the year before last. It was fun, but I missed home.”
“Christmas can be a sad time, though,” Honey said. “For people who don’t have family or homes.”
“That’s so true,” Donna agreed.
“We always have a fundraiser before Christmas at our school,” Trixie said. “And local churches and community groups organize hampers and meals.”
“That really is the spirit of Christmas,” Donna observed with a smile. “We should do something like that.”
“Hampers in the rose garden?” Josh raised his brows.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to show a little more holiday spirit, Joshua.”
“I’ll have you know, Donna, that I am the embodiment of the holiday spirit. My benevolence knows no bounds.”
“It knows no something,” Donna returned.
“I’m sure Mr. Lyman has lots of nice holiday stories,” Honey said.
“Thanks, Honey. I appreciate your show of good faith.”
“Fine,” Donna said. “We’re stuck here for now. Entertain us with one of your benevolent Josh stories.” She smiled at Trixie and Honey. “This should be fun.”
“When I was at college, my roommate had nowhere to go for Christmas, so I took him home with me.”
“That was kind of you,” Honey said. “I’m sure he was grateful.”
“Weirdly he was. We’re still in touch. Which considering that Christmas is a miracle in and of itself.”
“Why?” Trixie asked, leaning forward in her seat.
“Well, seeing that Mark was at a loose end, I invited him home with me. We sort of celebrated Hanukah and my mom always cooked Christmassy things, too. She liked that about the holiday. Problem was when we got there, there was some kind of issue and we had no water.”
“Seriously? At Christmas?” Trixie’s brows lifted.
Josh nodded. “Luckily, we were pretty good friends with one of our neighbours and we took turns in going there for a shower, but it’s weird how much you use water without thinking about it.”
“Cooking and drinking and….” Honey’s forehead furrowed. “Flushing toilets.”
“We used melted snow for that. It worked—more or less.”
“I guess the upside was you didn’t have to do the dishes,” Trixie observed, imagining Crabapple farm at Christmas without water.
“There was a whole lot more paper plate eating than usual, that much is true. We had burgers and fries Christmas Eve. Actual Christmas dinner, we boiled a very small amount of our drinking water and soaked the dishes until the water came back on. And my mom brought new meaning to one pot dinner.”
“It sounds like fun to me,” Honey said. “Our Christmas dinners and Christmas Eve dinners are all pretty formal with lots of courses. I’m trying to imagine mother serving burgers and fries at Christmas.
“I’m trying to imagine your mother serving,” Trixie said, then clamped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”
“No, it came out right,” Honey conceded. “Anyway, not having water doesn’t seem too big an issue really. If you can still shower and use the bathroom.”
“Oh, Honey, if only the story ended there,” Josh said with a shake of his head.
“What else went wrong?” Trixie asked.
“Our dog, FDR, was pretty old by then and almost blind. He mistook Mark’s leg for one of his chew toys.”
“Oh, no.” Honey winced at the thought.
“Was it bad?” Trixie asked.
“He didn’t need stitches but he did need to go next door and get the wound cleaned properly—another downside of not having running water. Not that we couldn’t have used some of our drinking water, but it just seemed easier.”
“No water and a dog bite. I hope nothing else went wrong,” Honey said.
“Not wrong exactly,” Josh conceded. “But Mark bought my parents a coffee grinder as a gift and while they appreciated the gesture, it was pretty obvious when they opened it, that they didn’t get it.”
“Didn’t get a coffee grinder?” Trixie wrinkled her nose. “I’m domestically challenged and even I know what one is.”
“They knew what it was,” Josh said. “But they tended, to drink instant, so they didn’t really get why Mark had brought them something they probably wouldn’t use. They were polite, but…”
“You can tell when people don’t like or get your gift,” Honey said wisely.
At that moment, the door opened, and one of the men who’d been in earlier, stepped into the room. “We’re cleared now, Mr. Lyman.”
“Thanks, Ron,” Josh said. He got to his feet. “Why don’t you hunt up the photographer, Donna? And see if you can find Toby. He might not be all that photogenic, but it will good for him.”
Donna smiled, nodded, and hurried out.
Night in the nation’s capital had fully fallen and Trixie and Honey settled back in the car for the ride back to the Wheeler apartment. The array of lights that adorned streets, trees, and houses alike were now bright against the evening darkness.
“I keep pinching myself,” Trixie confessed. “Just to make sure that this afternoon was really real.”
“I know,” Honey said, fingering the engraved medallion she had been presented with. Trixie clutched her own medallion tightly.
“And they’re going to send us copies of the photo, too. Imagine that.” Honey expelled her breath slowly.
“I’m glad we got to meet Mr. Ziegler as well. He was interesting, and Mart will be super jealous.”
“He was, wasn’t he? Though he made me a little nervous. I’m glad I got to stand next to Donna.”
“She was sweet when you asked her to be in the picture.”
“I liked her a lot.”
“Me, too,” Trixie agreed. “She and Mr. Lyman are funny.”
“Like Hepburn and Tracy.” Honey said. “Or Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell.”
“Whoosie whatsis?” Trixie demanded.
“Oh, Trixie we spent the afternoon at the White House. You and me.”
“We did, didn’t we. And we had a crash and everything.” Trixie smiled in satisfaction. “This is going to be an excellent Christmas.”
***
“Well, that was an hour of my time—” Josh broke off mid-sentence as Donna slapped his forearm. “Ow, haven’t you already used your smack the boss quota today?”
Donna thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. You’re a very special boss and the quota is higher than average.”
“What I was going to say before I was rudely assaulted, was that was an hour of my time than I enjoyed a lot more than I expected to.”
“Oh, well, good. I’ll make sure that slap counts for another day when you are super annoying.”
“So, the twelfth of never, then?” Josh said.
“I’m guessing tomorrow, but it is almost Christmas.” Donna settled herself in the chair on the other side of Josh’s desk. “They were fun, weren’t they?”
“Interesting at the very least,” Josh conceded. “And not afraid to say what they think—even if a good deal it was so rambly it made some of your conversational stylings look coherent.”
“I don’t think rambly is a word as such,” Donna said, pursing her lips. “Though I guess it could be. English is a pretty strange language, when you come to think of it. I mean knee and knife? Why? And there, they’re and their. Is it any wonder emails have so many errors in them?”
“I take back the part about you being coherent and ask this question instead.”
“What question is that, Josh?”
“Are you sure neither of them are related to you?” Josh demanded.
Donna sighed and shook her head ruefully. “How many things in this world can we really be sure of, Josh?”
***
“Oh, thank goodness you’re back,” Diana cried. “We were beginning to wonder.
Then there was something on the news about a lockdown, and we were so worried.” She flung her arms around her friends, while the other Bob-Whites also gathered around them.
“We’re fine,” Honey reassured them. “Honestly, we are.”
“It was just a precaution,” Trixie explained. “It happens a lot, apparently. Sometimes they last for hours, but this was a short crash.”
“Crash?” Brian repeated.
“It’s White House lingo,” Trixie said.
“Listen to her,” Jim said admiringly. “So cool and casual.”
“Okay, so you’re both safe and sound. It’s time to spill. We want to know everything,” Mart begged.
“Let’s sit in the living room and have some refreshments,” Diana suggested. “I’ve been baking.”
“I thought I could smell something good,” Trixie said.
“Something yummy,” Honey agreed, lifting her nose and sniffing appreciatively.
“PB buckeyes,” Dan informed them gleefully. “Di made batches of them and they’re awesome. And I made a little something of my own for later, too. I’ll help you get things ready, Di.”
“I’m surprised there are any left.” Trixie followed the rest of her friends into the big, comfortable living room. “I imagine you’ve all been taste testing.”
“Then you imagine wrong,” Mart returned haughtily. “Not one delectable morsel has touched the lips of any of those currently in this room.”
“Di insisted that Dan, and only Dan could assist her in the kitchen and that included sampling the fare,” Brian said with a grin.
“Smart girl, our Di.” Trixie returned the grin. She joined Honey on one of the comfy sofas, Mart dropping onto the one opposite whilst Brian and Jim took seats on two large ottomans.
Within minutes, Diana and Dan came into the room, each carrying a large tray. Diana’s held a hug platter of PB buckeyes and Dan’s contained mugs of hot chocolate.
“Wow. Look at this place,” Honey said, glancing around admiringly at the room. “You’ve decorated and everything.”
The two girls’ gazes fixed upon the tree, perfectly placed in the corner of the room, white lights blinking off its dark green branches. Etched silver glass and metal balls, dangled, catching and spreading the lights. Fine, twisted silver ribbon was looped from branch to branch, tiny silver bows linking them to one another.
“That star is especially stylish,” Trixie said, nodding towards the tin foil star at the top of the tree.
“My very own handiwork,” Mart said proudly.
“It definitely puts a person in the Christmas spirit, doesn’t it?” Jim said.
“I know I don’t have anything against doing something Christmassy,” Brian added.
“You know, there just might be a Christmas movie on tonight,” Diana observed innocently. “That would be very Christmassy.”
“Die Hard?” Mart suggested.
“Lethal Weapon,” Dan added. “I’m pretty sure the first one is set at Christmas.”
“Cute,” Trixie said, though the spark in her blue eyes indicated she wasn’t totally opposed to the idea.
“Let’s see what cable channels daddy has.” Honey grabbed the remote control, turned on the television, and began flicking through the channels. “What a surprise,” she said, turning to smile at Mart and Dan. “He has the Hallmark Channel and they’re playing all of their Christmas movies.”
“I love Hallmark Christmas movies especially,” Diana said happily.
“Guys?” Mart implored turning to Jim and Brian.
“I could handle a Hallmark movie, I guess,” Jim said.
Brian nodded. “There are worse ways to spend an evening for sure.”
“Seriously?”
“We can have dinner while we’re watching,” Diana said. “A sort of early BWG Christmassy dinner.”
“Dinner?” Mart’s expression brightened.
“I have a couple of chickens roasting. That’s kind of like turkey.” Diana smiled at her friends.
“That’s what I can smell.” Trixie sniffed appreciatively.
“And I made a salad,” Dan added. “And peeled a mound of potatoes for mashing.”
“I can make gravy,” Honey offered.
“Trix and I will set the table.” Jim declared.
“I guess that leaves me with the dishes,” Brian said ruefully.
“I’ll help,” Mart said. “It may mean less Hallmark.”
“We’ll pick something that starts after we’ve eaten instead,” Trixie said. “Let’s have another look at what’s on.” She grabbed the program guide from the coffee table and took it to Honey and Di.
“That’s a good one,” Di said, pointing a slender finger.
“Oh, my favorite,” Honey cried. “A Season for Miracles. I just love it.”
“Me, too,” Di said.
“Is that the one with the drug addict sister where they stay in a house that doesn’t belong to them?” Trixie asked.
“That doesn’t sound much like a Hallmark movie.” Dan dropped down onto one of the sofas. “But it sounds interesting.”
“It’s both.” Trixie said decidedly.
“Well, it’s only a few days til Christmas, all of the BWGs are together, Trixie and Honey were honored guests at the White House, a delicious dinner is on offer, and these buckeyes are yum, so I guess A Season for Miracles sounds pretty apt to me,” Mart said. “Merry early Christmas, gang.”
“Merry early Christmas,” the BWGs chorused.
“We’re lucky to be here, all together,” Jim said, raising his mug of cocoa.
“And even luckier to have running water and no dog.” Trixie raised her own mug. “God bless America.”
Holidays with the BWGs
Author's notes: The biggest thank you to the admin team for coming up with year's unique Secret Santa. What a cool idea. As soon as I saw Jenn's name, I crossed my fingers and hoped like anything. A Trixie Belden/West Wing crossover! Early on in my time as a Jixster, a group of us were West Wing Watching together. It was such a great way to get to know people and definitely made me feel a part of the group. I really felt like I knew Jenn and HRH Sophie xox. Jenn's sharing of her Christmassy habits made it so much easier to write this. I can only hope I've done them justice. One of the great things was how her friendship with Mary (aka magnificent, marvellous, magical Mary) featured in her experiences. And most munificent Mary also acted as editor for me on this piece. Huggiest hugs and thank yous. All errors and mishaps are down to me (including the wacky formatting, sigh) I used Mark's name for Josh's friend, because it both starts with an M and belongs to our Mark. There is a reference to Killington, where I was lucky enough to meet Mary and Dana and Susan and Mary C and Vivian and Julie (Jstar8), so that is special to me. A Season For Miracles in one of my favouritist Christmas movies. I hope Jenn likes it, too. I am hoping to meet Jenn in RL next year, but for now, Merry Christmas, dear Jenn. Thanks for being you. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me. The West Wing was created by Aaron Sorkin and starred the greatest ensemble cast in the history of time ever. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
The clubhouse was cozy, with a fire burning brightly in the woodstove. Light snow continued to fall outside and the gathered seven Bob-Whites happily sipped hot chocolate and munched on Diana’s fudge brownies.
“I know this much sugar can’t possibly be good for me, but, boy, this is so good.” Brian reached for another sweet treat and bit into it appreciatively.
“You could sell these, Di. They’re so delicious,” Honey suggested.
“Oh, I just threw them together,” Di protested, blushing. “They’re nothing special.”
“You should make more for Christmas,” Mart suggested. “That way you can iron out any kinks.”
“My brother the humanitarian,” Trixie sniffed, but her blue eyes twinkled. “I can hardly believe that it is Christmas in just a few weeks.”
“It sure has come around fast this year,” Dan agreed.
“I just wish something would happen.” Trixie leaned back against the sofa and sipped her hot chocolate. “We haven’t had a mystery or project in ages.”
Mart snorted inelegantly. “Do I need to regurgitate all of the events and complicated constructs that have permeated and shaped our existence over the past six months?”
“Gosh, I hope not.” Trixie shuddered. “I’m pretty sure I’d get indigestion if you did.”
The others laughed and Jim slipped an arm around Trixie’s shoulders. “I’m almost scared to say this, Trix, but I kind of agree with you. Things have been a little quiet lately.”
“And we do have a quiet Christmas at home planned this year,” Brian added.
“I’m sure we can come up with something,” Honey said optimistically. “Or maybe something exciting will just turn up.”
“Sure it will,” Mart said with a grin. “Even now, the universe is performing strange and wonderous machinations. Before we know it a heretofore unimagined event of significance will—” He broke off, as there was a sharp knock at the door.
Seven pairs of eyes shifted to the clubhouse door as Honey called out, “Come in.”
Much to their surprise, Matthew Wheeler stepped into the room.
“I hope you don’t mind me interrupting this Bob-White meeting.”
There was a chorus of nos.
“I think Trixie’s impatience must be contagious,” Mr. Wheeler said with a smile. “But I couldn’t wait to share this news.”
“What is it, Dad?” Jim asked eagerly.
“The Bob-Whites, well Trixie and Honey particularly, have been invited to a very special meeting. It is only a few days before Christmas, but I’m hoping you all have the time to come along.”
“Well, sure, Dad,” Jim said. “If you want us to.”
“Without knowing what it is?” Matthew Wheeler smiled at the group.
“You wouldn’t ask us if it wasn’t important, Daddy,” Honey said and the others nodded.
“But you are going to tell is what it is, aren’t you, Mr. Wheeler?” Trixie implored.
“I most certainly am,” he replied. And did.
***
The December afternoon was dull and graying as the light faded and evening began to wrap its fingers around the nation’s capital. Light snow was falling, but the DC streets and houses were lined with festive lights, celebrating the season.
“Oh, Trixie, can you believe it? Can you?” Honey Wheeler settled into the back seat of the car that was ferrying her, Trixie, and their appointed companion from the apartment they were staying in to their destination. Her wide hazel eyes were sparkling with both anxiety and anticipation.
Trixie shook her head so vigorously that her short sandy curls bounced. “I can’t, Honey. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I must be dreaming.”
Honey nodded. “The White House, Trix. We’re going to the actual White House. Where the President lives.”
“I know. Oh, Honey. It’s a Christmas miracle.”
***
“Donna! Don..na!” Josh Lyman ran his hand through his already unruly hair as he stared disbelievingly at his computer screen.
“You bellowed?” Donna Moss, assistant to the White House Deputy Chief of Staff, stood in the doorway of her boss’s office, regarding him with a look of pained resignation.
“What is this? What is this?” Josh stabbed at the computer screen on his desk as he spoke.
Donna’s fair brows lifted and she closed her eyes for a moment.
“What are you doing? Taking a nap? Meditating?” Josh demanded.
Donna sighed. “I’m trying to engage my psychic detection skills or possibly my x-ray vision. That way I’d know what you’re using your stubby finger to point at.”
“You do remember I haven’t handed over your Christmas gift, yet, right?”
“True.” Donna crossed the office to stand beside him. “And to be fair, in spite of the fact that you are not affectionately known as Mr. Generosity, you have been known to surprise me.” She leaned down, her long blonde hair falling over her shoulder, and fixed her gaze on the computer screen. “Hosting young achievers’ guests Trixie Belden and Madeleine Wheeler,” she read, slowly and clearly.
“I can read,” Josh snapped.
“I thought so,” Donna observed. “So, what’s your question then?”
“What is this? I mean, who are they? And more importantly, why are they on my schedule? three days before Christmas.”
“It is what is says it is. They are Trixie Belden and Madeleine Wheeler and they’re on your schedule because Leo put them there.”
“I’m rethinking your Christmas bonus right now.”
“I can forge your signature, you know. Besides, you don’t actually give bonuses.”
Between you and Margaret, you could do a lot of damage.”
“Personally, I think we’d do just fine.”
“Back to this. Have I mislaid the calendar? Is this big block of cheese day?”
“Funny. Misguided, but funny. Wrong, but funny. If you cast your tiny mind, I mean your impressively large brain, back a few weeks to a meeting of senior staff where C.J. gave out a list of young people who were receiving special recognition for their contribution to our great nation, you might recall that we were all assigned our own guests to host during a visit to our hallowed halls. We have two fifteen-year-old girls who helped bring down an international crime ring.”
“For real?” Josh said.
“Yes. And Leo and C.J. said you have to be nice to them. Pay attention to them. Be hospitable. Spend time with them. Get your photo taken with them. It’s Christmas, after all.”
“But I’m the White House Deputy Chief of Staff.”
“Yes, Josh, you are. It’s nice that you know that. And as Deputy Chief of Staff part of your job—”
“Is to babysit a couple of kids?”
Donna shot him a look of pity. “Is to do what Leo tells you.”
“And whose bright idea was it for us to play host to two teenage girls, three days before Christmas?”
Donna smiled ruefully and shook her head. “Josh, Josh, Joshua, Josh. That would be yours.”
***
“It’s a nice time to visit our capital, isn’t it?” The older woman sitting alongside the driver in the front seat turned to smile at the two teenagers.
“Washington is pretty impressive at Christmas, isn’t it, Trix?” Honey pulled her gaze from the passing scenery and smiled at her friend.
“It sure is,” Trixie agreed. “And how lucky are we that we have your dad’s apartment to stay in. It’s much nice than a hotel.”
“I stayed in way too many of those growing up,” Honey said. “And Christmas is about family and trees and snow and Christmas movies. Even though we’ll be home for actual Christmas, I always feel like Christmas starts days before.”
“Or months before when you’re you. You are so super organized with your Christmas shopping. It’s a little crazy how early you start.”
“I like to start early,” Honey huffed. “And I’m not that early, and I only use plain old-fashioned lists. Brian has an excel spreadsheet to keep track of his present buying.”
“Well, we all know what he’s like.” Trixie dismissed her eldest brother with a wave of her hand.
“Yes, we do.” Honey said, deliberately misinterpreting her friend.
“Are you nervous, Hon?” Trixie did her best to return some kind of order to her curls and rubbed ineffectually at the freckles on her nose.
Honey nodded, checking her own reflection in the tiny mirror she’d pulled from her purse. “Terrified and excited at the same time. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got kittens in my stomach.”
“Don’t you mean butterflies?” Trixie grinned at her friend.
“Way bigger than butterflies,” Honey said.
“I thought maybe you’d be more…you know, used to it.”
“Used to going to the White House? Trix, I’ve never been there before.”
“But your folks are….”
“Rich?” Honey chuckled.
“Connected,” Trixie returned, pleased that she’d been able to come up with the right word.
“Well, mother and dad have both met presidents before and been to an occasional event to support candidates, but neither have ever been to the actual White House.”
“But on opposite sides, right?” Trixie had never really given that much thought to politics, but you had to when you were going to meet the President of the United States.
Honey shrugged. “I guess so. I mean mother’s a democrat and dad’s a republican, but they’re both…centrists? I think that’s the right way to describe it. You know, kind of leaning towards the middle. They both like President Bartlet, though. Mother adores him.”
“Mine, too,” Trixie agreed. “And Mart…he says President Bartlet is one of the greatest ora..something ever. Ever since we found out we were coming to DC, he’s been talking about becoming a speechwriter. Who knew that that was an actual job?”
“I do feel guilty about it just being us,” Honey said, chewing on one of her finger nails. “I mean, we were all there when Lontard was caught.”
Trixie nodded. “I know. I agree with you, but Brian said we were the ones who really worked everything out.”
“Jim said the same. He said we should just enjoy it, but that’s hard, because I’d feel better if we were all going, even Di, though she wasn’t with us when it happened. Though I’m glad she is now. Well not actually here and actually now, but back at the apartment with the other Bob-Whites. And anyway, I hate thinking about Lontard and that awful time, and it’s almost Christmas, and I’m worried I’m going to start rambling when we meet the President’s staff. Thank goodness he’ll be too busy to meet us himself, because if that happened….” Honey trailed off. “I’m rambling now, aren’t I?”
“Not as far as I’m concerned,” Trixie said with a decided nod of her head. “You always make sense to me. I think it’s everyone else who’s a little off.”
Honey laughed. “Thanks, partner. You’re the best.”
No American could fail to recognize the iconic white building that had served as the official residence of the President since President John Adams and his wife Abigail moved in before it was even completed. It had been through fire and multiple renovations, but it remained a symbol of the nation whose leader it housed and a visit to its respected halls was much prized.
To see the White House during the holiday season was of particular delight. The huge fir tree, which graced President’s park and came to life late November, was a national attraction and the approaching Sleepysiders were not disappointed. They finally arrived and Trixie and Honey followed their companion through the visitors’ gate. As they approached the entrance, the woman with them held out the papers in her folder and handed over some sort of identification.
Each girl was handed a lanyard, which they placed around their respective necks.
“This is Trixie Belden and Madeleine, I mean, Honey, Wheeler. The recipients of our Law and Order Young Citizenship Award.” The woman who had acted as the girls’ liaison and guide smiled. “I’ll leave you girls with Miss Moss,” she said. She stood aside and they were ushered forward.
“I’m Donna Moss.” The tall, slender blonde held out her hand and Trixie and Honey shook it in turn. “I’m the senior assistant to Josh Lyman, who is the deputy chief of staff to the President.”
“That kind of makes you the deputy deputy Chief of Staff, doesn’t it?” Trixie quipped, then flushed.
“That’s exactly what I said. Only nobody seemed to get it.” Donna held her hands up in a gesture of confusion.
“How weird,” Honey said, forgetting to be nervous. “Because that’s just logical.”
“I know.” Donna smiled at them both. “I can see you two are smart as well as brave.”
“Oh, I’m not brave,” Honey said swiftly.
“Donna!” A man’s voice yelled from some distance away.
“Let’s put that to the test, shall we?” Donna nodded her head and gestured for them to follow her.
“This is Josh Lyman, the President’s Deputy Chief of Staff. Josh, this is Trixie Belden and Honey Wheeler. They’re recipients of the Young Citizenship Award—law and order.”
Donna directed the two teenagers to take a seat, and then propped herself on the edge of her boss’s desk.
“You’re crime fighters?” Josh almost managed to hide the smile that played on his lips.
“I don’t know about that,” Trixie said, while Honey shook her head vigorously.
“Did you have a good trip?” Donna asked, shooting her boss a warning look.
“Yes, thank you. We flew in yesterday morning and we’re staying at an apartment downtown.
“Why don’t you tell us about the incident that brought you here and then Donna can take you on your tour.”
“It was a while ago,” Trixie said. “More than a year. A lot has happened since then.”
“Right.” Josh said. “Are you saying you don’t remember?”
“Oh, no. I mean we do remember. We’re just surprised to be here for that mystery.”
“It’s just that this isn’t exactly our favorite mystery,” Honey explained apologetically.
“You have a favorite mystery?” Josh asked. “You’ve had enough mysteries to have a favorite mystery? Who are you two? Lucy Radcliffe?”
“Oh, we love Lucy.” Trixie beamed at Josh.
“What is your favorite mystery?” Donna asked.
”Well, there was the time when Trixie stopped dapper Dick the jewel thief. That was a big thing,” Honey said. “And we started the Bob-Whites then.”
“Dapper Dick?” Josh repeated.
“Oh, he was just a nasty little man and besides, that wasn’t just me,” Trixie protested. “What about when you saved Sally Darnell’s life? That’s real heroism.”
“People save other people from drowning all the time!” Honey declared. “That’s not heroic.”
“Kind of is to the person who’s drowning,” Josh observed, eyeing the two teenagers with a mix of amusement and puzzlement.
“What about those terrible sheep rustlers at your Uncle’s farm?” Honey asked. “I was so afraid up on that barn roof.”
“Sheep rustlers?” Josh lifted a brow in Donna’s direction. Donna merely smiled.
“And Blinky?” Honey shuddered. “With that scar and everything. He was scary.”
“Blinky? With the scar.” Josh turned to Donna. “Dapper Dick and Blinky? You’re messing with me now, aren’t you? This whole thing is like a Christmas prank. Toby or C.J.?”
“Neither. Because this is not a prank, which you would know if you read your schedule. You can still read, right? It’s over an hour since we last checked.” Donna moved closer to her boss and delivered a sharp kick.
“Ow.” Josh rubbed his shin.
“It really isn’t a prank, Mr. Lyman,” Honey said earnestly. “They were real people who we sort of helped capture. At least Trixie did mostly. And Lontard is another one. Maybe the scariest of all.”
“I nearly got us killed that time.” Trixie looked miserable.
“You did not. I was the one who nearly got us killed.” Honey grabbed her friend’s arm.
“Oh, my god.” Donna looked from one teenager to the other. “What happened?”
“I acted without thinking,” Trixie replied glumly.
“I trusted the wrong people,” Honey added.
“I knew we shouldn’t go with them.” Trixie frowned.
“I made you,” Honey insisted.
“And yet, here we are,” Josh said, wondering how long they might go on. “You must have eventually done something right?”
“I guess the fact that we got involved in the first place is why we’re here,” Trixie admitted.
“Yes. Trixie was smart enough to know there was something odd about those papers we found.”
“You all helped. You especially. And I did plenty of dumb things.”
“We do dumb things all the time, don’t we, Josh?” Donna appealed to her boss.
“I don’t think I’d care to characterize our administration quite like that, but there have been times when dumb actions have had good outcomes.”
“Well, that’s us,” Trixie said with a decisive nod of her head.
“All the time,” Honey added.
“I’m going to leave you in Donna’s tender hands, and we’ll meet in the mural room in.” Josh consulted his watch— “Half an hour?”
Donna nodded and led the two teenagers out of Josh’s office.
“Let’s start in the Grand foyer,” Donna said. “It’s pretty amazing at Christmas.”
Trixie and Honey followed the blonde woman down the corridor, their gazes shooting left and right, taking in the bustle as Donna indicated offices and people moving and talking at, what seemed to them, breakneck speed.
Much to their surprise, in spite of the significance of their location, the rooms were relatively ordinary. But as they passed from the working hub to the grand foyer, ordinary was not a word anyone would have used.
Long, trailing leaves of holly surrounded the doorways and there were four huge trees, each one glistening with masses of glass ornaments. The lights above them bounced off the balls, throwing patterns of light across the floor.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” Honey breathed. “Isn’t it, Trix?”
Trixie nodded her head, her blue eyes wide with wonder. “Those trees are so tall. Almost as tall as the ones in your preserve.”
“And look at these little scenes on the tables.” Trixie crossed the floor to study the tiny snow frosted tableau—a picture perfect white-frame house— a barn, a tall fir tree.
“It could almost be Crabapple Farm,” Honey said, moving to join her friend.
“You’re right. Look, Honey, there’s Reddy and Bobby.” Trixie pointed to a small red dog and a boy, playing near the tree.
“Is that what your house is like?” Donna asked, coming to stand beside them.
Trixie nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Then it must be lovely.”
“I think so.”
“Let’s see what you think of the Roosevelt room.”
“This room is beautiful.” Honey’s hazel eyes took in the history and her imagination took flight at the idea of all the conversations that had taken place there n the room in which she stood.
“It is nice, isn’t it? That’s why I thought we’d have our snack in here.” Donna poured hot chocolate for the two teenagers, then coffee for herself.
“How’s the tour going?” Josh Lyman entered the room and smiled genially at the group.
“Oh, it’s wonderful,” Honey enthused. “We just love this Mural room. And we’ve seen the Roosevelt Room and the Press briefing room. Donna showed us the foyer with all of its gorgeous decorations. And we met Ginger and Bonnie.”
“All the highlights,” Josh acknowledged.
“I sometimes get the Roosevelts confused,” Trixie observed.
“Sam did that once,” Donna said.
“Sam Seaborn? My brother idolizes him,” Trixie said. “He loves words.”
“So does Sam.” Donna smiled.
“We’re sorry we couldn’t get you in to see the President,” Josh said. “But he has a pretty full calendar.”
“Oh, no. We wouldn’t have wanted that,” Honey said with an emphatic nod of her head.
“You’re not a fan?” Josh regarded her with a sort of vague disbelief.
“Oh, no, no! I mean yes, yes. Of course I’m a fan. I think President Bartlet is an excellent president. Whenever I see him on television, I think we’re so lucky he’s our president, but as for actually meeting him…well, no, I couldn’t. I would be so intimidated, well, maybe not exactly intimidated because he seems very nice, but….” Honey trailed off. “Sorry, I ramble sometimes.”
“We call it Honeyspeak,” Trixie put in helpfully. “But I don’t have any problem understanding it.”
“Honestly,” Josh returned. “Neither do I. I get a lot of practice with rambling.” He turned his gaze on Donna who merely shrugged.
“It’s just that our minds move faster than other people’s,” Donna observed.
“So, oh ye of the speedy mind, didn’t you say something about taking a photo while we present the awards?” Josh asked.
“I thought this was the best place for the photograph,” Donna said. “I’ll just go—” she broke off as two men, both in suits, tell-tale earpieces clearly visible, burst into the room. “We’re crashed, Mr. Lyman,” one of them said.
“I’ll just go back to my….” Josh watched them go and was left staring at a closed door. “So,” he said, turning to face Trixie and Honey whose eyes were wide with apprehension. “This is what we call a crash.”
“A crash?” Honey repeated faintly.
“We have them all the time,” Donna put in. “Well, we don’t really, but we’ve heard a lot about them, so it’s nothing to worry about.”
“The White House has crashes all the time?” Trixie’s blue eyes registered alarm. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It sounds worse than it is,” Donna said.
“How long do crashes usually last?” Honey asked, twisting her hands in her lap.
“Not too long,” Josh replied. “Honestly, while they don’t happen all the time, they’re not uncommon.”
“Why?” Trixie looked from him to Donna. “If I’m allowed to ask.”
“I can’t give you details, Trixie, but sometimes it is a potential security issue. Mostly, it’s precautionary. Trust me, you’ll definitely be home for Christmas.” Josh’s tone was calm.
Honey looked vaguely horrified for a moment then caught Donna’s eyes and smiled. “We’re only staying in DC tonight and tomorrow night,” she explained. “Then we’re heading back to Sleepyside.”
“Dulles is crazy Christmas eve,” Josh said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Leave plenty of time.”
“We will,” Honey assured him.
“Though flying on Honey’s dad’s plane, it’s usually not too bad.” Trixie sipped her hot chocolate glad it had arrived before the crash.
“Right. Private plane. Didn’t really see that coming.” Josh said.
“We fly on a private plane,” Donna pointed out.
“Airforce one is not a private plane, Donna. It’s the most non-private plane in America.”
“Fine. We fly on a government plane that is only for a selected few people, bypasses queues and normal security checks, and is filled with huge armchairs and a dining room and—”
“You can shut up now,” Josh said.
“See how I’m treated?” Donna grinned at Honey and Trixie.
***
Diana stood back and admired the tree Jim and Dan had set up in the corner of the apartment living room.
The apartment itself was large and spacious, typical of older Georgetown, with large, paned, colonial windows, high ceilings, and dark wood floors. Following the acquisition of a tech company based in DC, Matthew Wheeler had been spending a lot of time in the nation’s capital and had ultimately decided he needed a permanent base to work from.
Luckily for the Bob-Whites, this meant they had a very comfortable place to stay.
“Oh, I do think it’s lovely.” Diana clasped her hands together and smiled.
“It’s really pretty good for a fake,” Mart agreed.
“Are you sure your dad won’t mind us doing this?” Brian asked. “We’re not actually going to be here for Christmas.”
“Miss Craven told me that she puts up and trims a tree, even though she goes home to Killington for Christmas every year.” Diana said, referring to one of their teachers.
“Well, that seems reasonable to me,” Dan observed.
“It’s a fair bit of effort, if you’re not home for the holidays,” Brian said.
“She does it for her cat,” Diana explained. “Thalia adores the tree. She showed me pictures and everything.”
"That makes a lot more sense.” Brian grinned.
“Dad told me we could decorate if we felt like it,” Jim returned. “And we do.”
“Do you think we should wait until Honey and Trixie get back to trim the tree?” Di turned from one Bob-White to the next.
“Are you kidding?” Mart spoke first.
“I wouldn’t want them to feel left out,” Diana explained.
“I think they’ll cope,” Brian said with a smile.
“They are at the White House,” Mart added. “The White House. Meeting White House staff and being honored for their bravery. I can’t see them getting their respective proboscides out of joint.”
“He probably has a point.” Dan grinned.
“I agree,” Jim said. “And I know where there’s a box of decorations, too. Let’s get on it.”
***
“So, you weren’t actually kidding about dapper Dick or Blinky?” Josh poured himself more coffee from the pot on the tray and settled back in his chair. “Or the sheep rustlers either,” he said. “You’ve also raised money for UNICEF, unmasked crooks, counterfeiters, and cleared up a scandal in horse racing. You really do have a lot of mysteries to choose from.”
“How did you find out all of that so fast?” Trixie asked, blue eyes round.
“I have skills,” Josh said with a smile.
Donna coughed
“I do,” Josh insisted. “You forget how skilled I am.”
Donna coughed again.
“Or how many agencies we have access to.” Josh added.
“Agencies?” Honey gulped. “You mean like the FBI or something?”
“That’s classified,” Josh, returned, not quite smothering his grin. “The point is that I now clearly understand how right it is that the two of you receive this award. You do good out there.”
“Thank you.” Trixie and Honey chorused, their faces flaming.
“That means a lot,” Honey added. “You do such important work here. And put yourselves at risk, too.”
Trixie nodded. “We were so sorry when you got shot.”
“Me, too,” Josh admitted. “We were just lucky that the Secret Service are so well trained.”
“They’re incredible,” Trixie said reverently.
“Ever considered the Secret Service as a possible career plan?” Josh queried.
Honey shook her head, but Trixie hesitated. “Honey and I want to be private detectives, we think, but sometimes I wonder about the Secret Service or even the FBI.”
“Not the CIA?” Josh looked from one girl to the other, his expression perfectly serious.
Honey’s head shake was more vehement this time. “We’re awful at keeping secrets. I mean, we can do it, like the time when Trixie gave her diamond ring to Mr. Lytell to save Brian’s car, or when we first found Jim and didn’t tell anyone, or when the Darnells stole, well, borrowed really, the Robin, but we’re not very good at it.”
“That’s true. I don’t think we’d make very good spies,” Trixie observed. “But we are pretty good at solving mysteries.”
“I can see that.”
“Have you both done all of your Christmas shopping?” Donna asked, changing the subject.
Both girls nodded, though Trixie added. “I still need to wrap mine, but at least I finally finished, this morning actually.”
“Me, too,” Honey said. “Have finished, I mean. I finished before we came to D.C and mine are wrapped.”
“She’s super-organised at Christmas,” Trixie explained. “She starts buying stuff in like April.”
“I do not,” Honey denied hotly. “I hardly ever buy anything before the end of August.”
“That’s still pretty early,” Trixie noted.
“Well, I don’t want to give ordinary old things like socks or something.” Honey wrinkled her nose.
“What about you, Mr. Lyman?” Trixie asked.
“Well, I’m actually Jewish,” Josh said. “But my mom always gets me gifts. Usually includes socks.” He grinned at Honey who flushed again.
“Socks are better than underwear though,” Trixie grumbled. “Aunt Alicia gave us all underwear a few years ago and it was disappointing and kind of embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing? I mean, I get that underwear is a pretty boring gift—though not always—but how is it embarrassing?” Josh leaned back in the armchair.
Trixie regarded him glumly. “Because I wasn’t impressed, I just shoved it in my bag and forgot about it. The next day at school when I was looking for a book in class, it fell out on the floor in front of everyone. Trust me, at twelve that’s pretty embarrassing.”
“But it was new underwear, right?” Josh asked with an innocent blink of his eyes.
“Of course.” Trixie made a face. “It even had the tags on, but still…”
“Donna has a good story about underwear,” Josh said with a grin.
“Josh.” Donna shot him a warning look. “You do remember who organizes all of your appointments, your flights home when you go there, or anywhere else for that matter, and pretty much everything in your petty little life, don’t you?”
“Yes. And you’ve done a sterling job as always. Cause you’ve already booked me for Christmas day. Though to be technically accurate, Donna, as I just pointed out, I’m Jewish. So, Christmas….”
“Oh, bah humbug.”
“Very politically correct. But getting back to underwear.”
“I can unbook that ticket, you know.”
“It’s a good story. It’s endearing.”
“Please tell us, Donna.” Honey smiled. “It will take our mind off the crash.”
Donna settled back in her chair. “It only happened because I am a caring, generous person. Who goes out her way to help a friend.”
“And with help like that,” Josh put in.
Donna made a face. “Anyway, I went to an art gallery to speak to Karen Cahill, who’s, well, it doesn’t really matter who she is, to try and help Sam. He’d accidentally told her there were nuclear weapons in Kyrgyzstan, which is wrong, obviously, and he felt terrible. Oh, and he was supposed to be making up for Leo making fun of her shoes. So, I went, and I was witty and composed.”
“And then you left your underwear on the floor,” Josh said.
“That was less witty and composed, I suppose.”
“Oh, your poor thing,” Honey sympathized. “How on earth did that happen?”
“It’s a mystery,” Donna returned weakly.
“You two are semi-professional mystery solvers,” Josh observed. “What do you think happened?”
“The elastic broke?” Honey hazarded with a frown.
“A reasonable assumption, but no.” Josh turned to Trixie.
The sandy haired girl thought for a moment and looked Donna up and down. “Did you wear the same trousers to work two days in a row?”
“Yes.” Donna regarded her admiringly. “Something I have never done again since.”
“I don’t blame you,” Honey said with a shudder. “Now, I’m never going to do that either.”
“Well, Karen kindly posted them back to us and then Leo asked the president to call Karen and explain that Donna wasn’t hitting on her.” Josh managed to keep a straight face.
“Did he?”
“I don’t think so. But I’m sure you’re impressed by your tax dollars at work.” Josh grinned. “Though I guess it’s your parents tax dollars at work. Assuming they pay tax.”
“I think so,” Trixie said. “My dad works at the Sleepyside bank. And Honey’s dad owns one of the biggest companies in America.”
Josh slapped his forehead with his hand. “Wait, Wheeler. Matthew Wheeler? Wheeler International?”
Honey nodded weakly.
“Well, that explains the private plane,” Josh said.
“You know Honey’s family?” Donna looked surprised.
“Most people know of Matthew Wheeler. Though the other side of the aisle is more familiar with him than we are.”
“Well, that’s fine,” Donna said brightly. “We know lots of nice Republicans. Ainsley Hayes, Jack Reece, Cliff Calley, well sort of nice.”
“Donna is so bipartisan she usually dates the nice republicans,” Josh noted with a look in his assistant’s direction.
“Well, my mother dated my father,” Honey said.
“Her mother’s a democrat,” Trixie supplied helpfully.
“That must have made family dinners interesting when Richie was running.” Josh drummed his fingers together.
“Not really,” Honey returned. “Daddy said when Governor Richie was running, ‘I’m a Republican—not an idiot.’ He didn’t like him very much. He said there were far better candidates.”
“Smart man.” Josh said. “How does he feel about having a mystery solver for a daughter.”
“He likes it better sometimes, rather than other times”,” Honey admitted.
“He wasn’t very happy about this mystery,” Trixie added. “The one we’re here for.”
“He blamed himself, which was silly,” Honey began before Josh interrupted.
“Seems to be a lot of blame going around with this particular mystery,” he said.
“That’s true,” Trixie agreed. “Our brothers blame themselves, too. We did tell you it wasn’t exactly our most favorite mystery.”
“Have you ever had a Christmas mystery?” Donna asked. “I love those British TV shows and they have good Christmas mysteries.”
“We did have one last year, just after Christmas at a ski lodge Honey’s dad wanted to buy.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Josh smiled. “Did he buy it?”
“He invested in it,” Honey confirmed. “It’s in Vermont. It’s an eco-lodge and it’s very beautiful.”
“An eco-lodge?” Josh raised his brows. “Now, that does surprise me.”
“Honey’s dad says you can make money and be environmentally responsible, too,” Trixie said.
“From his mouth to congress’s ears,” Josh said.
“Are you going home for Christmas, Donna?” Honey asked.
Donna shook her head. “Not this year. Normally, I’d be flying out to Wisconsin. I love being home for Christmas. But this year, I’m…staying in town.”
“In the spirit of bipartisanship and nice republicans,” Josh added.
“You might try it, Josh.” Donna assumed an air of superiority. “Your dating strategies could use some work.”
“While you may have a point, that’s a conversation we’re not going to have right now. Trixie, what about your family? Do you have any Christmas traditions?”
“Just the usual stuff, I guess,” Trixie replied. “Cutting down and trimming a tree, a turkey dinner, presents Christmas morning. That’s what we do every year. Though we did spend Christmas in Arizona at our friend Di’s uncle’s ranch the year before last. It was fun, but I missed home.”
“Christmas can be a sad time, though,” Honey said. “For people who don’t have family or homes.”
“That’s so true,” Donna agreed.
“We always have a fundraiser before Christmas at our school,” Trixie said. “And local churches and community groups organize hampers and meals.”
“That really is the spirit of Christmas,” Donna observed with a smile. “We should do something like that.”
“Hampers in the rose garden?” Josh raised his brows.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to show a little more holiday spirit, Joshua.”
“I’ll have you know, Donna, that I am the embodiment of the holiday spirit. My benevolence knows no bounds.”
“It knows no something,” Donna returned.
“I’m sure Mr. Lyman has lots of nice holiday stories,” Honey said.
“Thanks, Honey. I appreciate your show of good faith.”
“Fine,” Donna said. “We’re stuck here for now. Entertain us with one of your benevolent Josh stories.” She smiled at Trixie and Honey. “This should be fun.”
“When I was at college, my roommate had nowhere to go for Christmas, so I took him home with me.”
“That was kind of you,” Honey said. “I’m sure he was grateful.”
“Weirdly he was. We’re still in touch. Which considering that Christmas is a miracle in and of itself.”
“Why?” Trixie asked, leaning forward in her seat.
“Well, seeing that Mark was at a loose end, I invited him home with me. We sort of celebrated Hanukah and my mom always cooked Christmassy things, too. She liked that about the holiday. Problem was when we got there, there was some kind of issue and we had no water.”
“Seriously? At Christmas?” Trixie’s brows lifted.
Josh nodded. “Luckily, we were pretty good friends with one of our neighbours and we took turns in going there for a shower, but it’s weird how much you use water without thinking about it.”
“Cooking and drinking and….” Honey’s forehead furrowed. “Flushing toilets.”
“We used melted snow for that. It worked—more or less.”
“I guess the upside was you didn’t have to do the dishes,” Trixie observed, imagining Crabapple farm at Christmas without water.
“There was a whole lot more paper plate eating than usual, that much is true. We had burgers and fries Christmas Eve. Actual Christmas dinner, we boiled a very small amount of our drinking water and soaked the dishes until the water came back on. And my mom brought new meaning to one pot dinner.”
“It sounds like fun to me,” Honey said. “Our Christmas dinners and Christmas Eve dinners are all pretty formal with lots of courses. I’m trying to imagine mother serving burgers and fries at Christmas.
“I’m trying to imagine your mother serving,” Trixie said, then clamped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”
“No, it came out right,” Honey conceded. “Anyway, not having water doesn’t seem too big an issue really. If you can still shower and use the bathroom.”
“Oh, Honey, if only the story ended there,” Josh said with a shake of his head.
“What else went wrong?” Trixie asked.
“Our dog, FDR, was pretty old by then and almost blind. He mistook Mark’s leg for one of his chew toys.”
“Oh, no.” Honey winced at the thought.
“Was it bad?” Trixie asked.
“He didn’t need stitches but he did need to go next door and get the wound cleaned properly—another downside of not having running water. Not that we couldn’t have used some of our drinking water, but it just seemed easier.”
“No water and a dog bite. I hope nothing else went wrong,” Honey said.
“Not wrong exactly,” Josh conceded. “But Mark bought my parents a coffee grinder as a gift and while they appreciated the gesture, it was pretty obvious when they opened it, that they didn’t get it.”
“Didn’t get a coffee grinder?” Trixie wrinkled her nose. “I’m domestically challenged and even I know what one is.”
“They knew what it was,” Josh said. “But they tended, to drink instant, so they didn’t really get why Mark had brought them something they probably wouldn’t use. They were polite, but…”
“You can tell when people don’t like or get your gift,” Honey said wisely.
At that moment, the door opened, and one of the men who’d been in earlier, stepped into the room. “We’re cleared now, Mr. Lyman.”
“Thanks, Ron,” Josh said. He got to his feet. “Why don’t you hunt up the photographer, Donna? And see if you can find Toby. He might not be all that photogenic, but it will good for him.”
Donna smiled, nodded, and hurried out.
Night in the nation’s capital had fully fallen and Trixie and Honey settled back in the car for the ride back to the Wheeler apartment. The array of lights that adorned streets, trees, and houses alike were now bright against the evening darkness.
“I keep pinching myself,” Trixie confessed. “Just to make sure that this afternoon was really real.”
“I know,” Honey said, fingering the engraved medallion she had been presented with. Trixie clutched her own medallion tightly.
“And they’re going to send us copies of the photo, too. Imagine that.” Honey expelled her breath slowly.
“I’m glad we got to meet Mr. Ziegler as well. He was interesting, and Mart will be super jealous.”
“He was, wasn’t he? Though he made me a little nervous. I’m glad I got to stand next to Donna.”
“She was sweet when you asked her to be in the picture.”
“I liked her a lot.”
“Me, too,” Trixie agreed. “She and Mr. Lyman are funny.”
“Like Hepburn and Tracy.” Honey said. “Or Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell.”
“Whoosie whatsis?” Trixie demanded.
“Oh, Trixie we spent the afternoon at the White House. You and me.”
“We did, didn’t we. And we had a crash and everything.” Trixie smiled in satisfaction. “This is going to be an excellent Christmas.”
***
“Well, that was an hour of my time—” Josh broke off mid-sentence as Donna slapped his forearm. “Ow, haven’t you already used your smack the boss quota today?”
Donna thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. You’re a very special boss and the quota is higher than average.”
“What I was going to say before I was rudely assaulted, was that was an hour of my time than I enjoyed a lot more than I expected to.”
“Oh, well, good. I’ll make sure that slap counts for another day when you are super annoying.”
“So, the twelfth of never, then?” Josh said.
“I’m guessing tomorrow, but it is almost Christmas.” Donna settled herself in the chair on the other side of Josh’s desk. “They were fun, weren’t they?”
“Interesting at the very least,” Josh conceded. “And not afraid to say what they think—even if a good deal it was so rambly it made some of your conversational stylings look coherent.”
“I don’t think rambly is a word as such,” Donna said, pursing her lips. “Though I guess it could be. English is a pretty strange language, when you come to think of it. I mean knee and knife? Why? And there, they’re and their. Is it any wonder emails have so many errors in them?”
“I take back the part about you being coherent and ask this question instead.”
“What question is that, Josh?”
“Are you sure neither of them are related to you?” Josh demanded.
Donna sighed and shook her head ruefully. “How many things in this world can we really be sure of, Josh?”
***
“Oh, thank goodness you’re back,” Diana cried. “We were beginning to wonder.
Then there was something on the news about a lockdown, and we were so worried.” She flung her arms around her friends, while the other Bob-Whites also gathered around them.
“We’re fine,” Honey reassured them. “Honestly, we are.”
“It was just a precaution,” Trixie explained. “It happens a lot, apparently. Sometimes they last for hours, but this was a short crash.”
“Crash?” Brian repeated.
“It’s White House lingo,” Trixie said.
“Listen to her,” Jim said admiringly. “So cool and casual.”
“Okay, so you’re both safe and sound. It’s time to spill. We want to know everything,” Mart begged.
“Let’s sit in the living room and have some refreshments,” Diana suggested. “I’ve been baking.”
“I thought I could smell something good,” Trixie said.
“Something yummy,” Honey agreed, lifting her nose and sniffing appreciatively.
“PB buckeyes,” Dan informed them gleefully. “Di made batches of them and they’re awesome. And I made a little something of my own for later, too. I’ll help you get things ready, Di.”
“I’m surprised there are any left.” Trixie followed the rest of her friends into the big, comfortable living room. “I imagine you’ve all been taste testing.”
“Then you imagine wrong,” Mart returned haughtily. “Not one delectable morsel has touched the lips of any of those currently in this room.”
“Di insisted that Dan, and only Dan could assist her in the kitchen and that included sampling the fare,” Brian said with a grin.
“Smart girl, our Di.” Trixie returned the grin. She joined Honey on one of the comfy sofas, Mart dropping onto the one opposite whilst Brian and Jim took seats on two large ottomans.
Within minutes, Diana and Dan came into the room, each carrying a large tray. Diana’s held a hug platter of PB buckeyes and Dan’s contained mugs of hot chocolate.
“Wow. Look at this place,” Honey said, glancing around admiringly at the room. “You’ve decorated and everything.”
The two girls’ gazes fixed upon the tree, perfectly placed in the corner of the room, white lights blinking off its dark green branches. Etched silver glass and metal balls, dangled, catching and spreading the lights. Fine, twisted silver ribbon was looped from branch to branch, tiny silver bows linking them to one another.
“That star is especially stylish,” Trixie said, nodding towards the tin foil star at the top of the tree.
“My very own handiwork,” Mart said proudly.
“It definitely puts a person in the Christmas spirit, doesn’t it?” Jim said.
“I know I don’t have anything against doing something Christmassy,” Brian added.
“You know, there just might be a Christmas movie on tonight,” Diana observed innocently. “That would be very Christmassy.”
“Die Hard?” Mart suggested.
“Lethal Weapon,” Dan added. “I’m pretty sure the first one is set at Christmas.”
“Cute,” Trixie said, though the spark in her blue eyes indicated she wasn’t totally opposed to the idea.
“Let’s see what cable channels daddy has.” Honey grabbed the remote control, turned on the television, and began flicking through the channels. “What a surprise,” she said, turning to smile at Mart and Dan. “He has the Hallmark Channel and they’re playing all of their Christmas movies.”
“I love Hallmark Christmas movies especially,” Diana said happily.
“Guys?” Mart implored turning to Jim and Brian.
“I could handle a Hallmark movie, I guess,” Jim said.
Brian nodded. “There are worse ways to spend an evening for sure.”
“Seriously?”
“We can have dinner while we’re watching,” Diana said. “A sort of early BWG Christmassy dinner.”
“Dinner?” Mart’s expression brightened.
“I have a couple of chickens roasting. That’s kind of like turkey.” Diana smiled at her friends.
“That’s what I can smell.” Trixie sniffed appreciatively.
“And I made a salad,” Dan added. “And peeled a mound of potatoes for mashing.”
“I can make gravy,” Honey offered.
“Trix and I will set the table.” Jim declared.
“I guess that leaves me with the dishes,” Brian said ruefully.
“I’ll help,” Mart said. “It may mean less Hallmark.”
“We’ll pick something that starts after we’ve eaten instead,” Trixie said. “Let’s have another look at what’s on.” She grabbed the program guide from the coffee table and took it to Honey and Di.
“That’s a good one,” Di said, pointing a slender finger.
“Oh, my favorite,” Honey cried. “A Season for Miracles. I just love it.”
“Me, too,” Di said.
“Is that the one with the drug addict sister where they stay in a house that doesn’t belong to them?” Trixie asked.
“That doesn’t sound much like a Hallmark movie.” Dan dropped down onto one of the sofas. “But it sounds interesting.”
“It’s both.” Trixie said decidedly.
“Well, it’s only a few days til Christmas, all of the BWGs are together, Trixie and Honey were honored guests at the White House, a delicious dinner is on offer, and these buckeyes are yum, so I guess A Season for Miracles sounds pretty apt to me,” Mart said. “Merry early Christmas, gang.”
“Merry early Christmas,” the BWGs chorused.
“We’re lucky to be here, all together,” Jim said, raising his mug of cocoa.
“And even luckier to have running water and no dog.” Trixie raised her own mug. “God bless America.”
Holidays with the BWGs
Author's notes: The biggest thank you to the admin team for coming up with year's unique Secret Santa. What a cool idea. As soon as I saw Jenn's name, I crossed my fingers and hoped like anything. A Trixie Belden/West Wing crossover! Early on in my time as a Jixster, a group of us were West Wing Watching together. It was such a great way to get to know people and definitely made me feel a part of the group. I really felt like I knew Jenn and HRH Sophie xox. Jenn's sharing of her Christmassy habits made it so much easier to write this. I can only hope I've done them justice. One of the great things was how her friendship with Mary (aka magnificent, marvellous, magical Mary) featured in her experiences. And most munificent Mary also acted as editor for me on this piece. Huggiest hugs and thank yous. All errors and mishaps are down to me (including the wacky formatting, sigh) I used Mark's name for Josh's friend, because it both starts with an M and belongs to our Mark. There is a reference to Killington, where I was lucky enough to meet Mary and Dana and Susan and Mary C and Vivian and Julie (Jstar8), so that is special to me. A Season For Miracles in one of my favouritist Christmas movies. I hope Jenn likes it, too. I am hoping to meet Jenn in RL next year, but for now, Merry Christmas, dear Jenn. Thanks for being you. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me. The West Wing was created by Aaron Sorkin and starred the greatest ensemble cast in the history of time ever. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
