Strong emotional content

  The store felt like Christmas already. Exquisitely decorated trees with their glittering lights winking at passersby, festive garlands wrapped around railings and columns, and the familiar sound of carols and songs drifting through the air.

In spite of herself, Honey Wheeler found that she was singing along. “Angels We Have Heard on High” was her mother’s favourite Christmas song. The thought registered, and she blinked back the tears that automatically sprung to her eyes.

It was almost Christmas—a time for celebration and joy—a time to remember all that was good in the world. She cast her mind back to the previous evening where they had all gathered, just as they had as teenagers.

“Sun, surf, sand…” Dan sighed and settled back into his chair.

“No wearing layers and layers of wool,” Honey said.

“Warm air, walks on the beach,” Diana added, smiling.

“Jem’s first plane ride.” Trixie’s blue eyes danced.

“Do you want me to wax lyrical about the feasts?” Mart asked.

“NO!” His friends chorused and then they all laughed.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

The group looked up to see their host standing in the doorway.

“We were just talking about Hawai’i,” Honey explained.

“I gathered that,” her father replied. “And it makes what I have to say even more difficult. I’m afraid the trip to Hawai’i is off. Something’s come up and I’ve had to cancel.”

Silence greeted this pronouncement.

“I know it’s disappointing,” Matthew Wheeler faced his children, their spouses, and the friends who had become a part of his family.

“It’s fine, Dad,” Jim said immediately. “Christmas in Hawai’i would have been great, but staying home is just as good.”

There was a murmur of agreement, but Honey could see and feel the disappointment of her friends and family, and she was sure her father could see it, too. His jaw was tense and his green eyes clouded, and she couldn’t help but wonder if everything was okay.

“Hey, you’re doing me a favour,” Trixie declared. “You all know how I feel about hot weather. Yuck!” She shuddered, and Honey threw her best friend a look of gratitude. She could always count on Trixie—always.  She was disappointed herself, but something in her father’s manner had her thinking that there was more to the cancellation than he was telling them.

“It’s not that hot in Hawai’i this time of the year,” Mart corrected automatically. “The average temperature in December is seventy-seven to eighty-one degrees, approximately. It does vary from island to island and on the mountain peaks it does drop…” he trailed off. “Anyway, it’s not that hot.”

“It’s a lot hotter than here.” Trixie frowned at her almost twin.

“Kind of the point,” Dan put in with a half-smile.

             “I realize you were all looking forward to it,” Mr. Wheeler said. “But this…business has to be dealt with. I do promise to try and make it up to you all.”

“There’s no need for that,” Brian said swiftly. He sat next to his fiancee, and she knew he could sense the tension in her slender body, even though they were not actually in physical contact.

“None at all,” Diana added, pushing her black hair back behind her ear as she spoke. “There’s no such thing as a bad Sleepyside Christmas.”

“Hear, hear,” Jim said approvingly.

“I know you’re all right,” Mart admitted. “Can I help it if I’ve been dreaming about roasted pork and fresh pineapple and cocoanut shrimp and—”

“Now you can dream about turkey and gravy and cranberry jelly instead,” Trixie cut him off and they exchanged grins.

“I’ve had worse dreams, “ Mart conceded and they all laughed.

“Well, considering that Moms, Dad and Bobby are going to visit Uncle Andrew, we could do something at the farm,” Trixie mused.

“Or with my folks taking both sets of twins to Arizona, we could do it there,” Di suggested.

            “Excitement plus,” Mart said, though he smiled at both his sister and wife.

“I’m hoping you’ll all have Christmas dinner here at the Manor House. Selfishly, Maddie and I want our family around us, and we’d love the rest of you to be here, too. That will include your uncle and Mr. Maypenny, Dan.”

All eyes fixed on the tall redheaded man who’d played such a big part in all of their lives since he’d moved to Sleepyside more than a decade earlier.

“Mr. Maypenny’s going to spend Christmas with David this year, but that works for me,” Dan said with a nod of his dark head.

“And me,” Trixie added. “No cooking and no clean-up. Sounds like a Christmas miracle.”

“Maybe we can do Hawai’i next year,” Matthew Wheeler said as he glanced around the room. “I do guarantee you won’t go hungry, Mart.”

“Never have since the day you moved in,” Mart said.

“Well, we should get going.” Trixie glanced at her watch. “Moms loves having Jem, but he’s due to be fed and we all know what that means.”

Brian laughed. “It means he starts to resemble his uncle Mart—very closely.”

            “All too true.”

Trixie and Jim headed down to the farm and the rest of them had coffee, tea and hot chocolate, cookies and cake. Her father had begged off, citing paperwork, and disappeared to his study. Leaving her fiancé and friends, Honey followed him, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to this change in plans than he’d said.  She raised her hand to knock on the study door, which was ajar. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of her father, slumped in the chair behind his desk, his head in his hands.

            “Daddy,” she cried, using her childhood name for him, and pushing open the door, she’d entered the room.

            Matthew Wheeler lifted his head, and she saw the tears in his eyes.  “I didn’t know you were there,” he said, his voice hoarse.

            “Do you want me to go away?” Honey asked, her own voice small.

            “It might be better.”

            She nodded and turned to leave, caught in the grip of fear at the sight of her strong, powerful father so obviously distressed. That fear gnawed at her, inserting its talons and it had a power all its own. But surprisingly she’d discovered something stronger—love. Spinning back to face him, she squared her slender shoulders.

            “Sorry, dad, but I’m not going anywhere. What is it? What’s happened?”         
                       

            A woman with a stroller mumbled an “excuse me” and edged past the honey-haired woman. Realising she had stopped in the middle of a walkway, Honey was pulled back into the present. She mumbled her own apology and stepped aside. She was always the first Bob-White to do her Christmas shopping. The others made fun of her for it. Even now, she was adding to items already stored in her closet at the Manor House. Knowing that they were heading to Hawai’i she had carefully selected small, easily transportable items for each of her friends and her parents. Now that they were staying in Sleepyside she wanted to add to those, though part of her knew that shopping gave her something to do—took her mind off of what was really going to be the focal point of this hometown Christmas.

 “Get it together,” Honey muttered to herself as she moved through the store. “People will think you’ve lost it.” She pushed her long, dark-gold hair back behind her shoulder, reached into her purse and pulled out the notebook she’d written in earlier that day.            

 Lists worked for her. It was one of the things that made her future partnership with Trixie viable. Trixie’s instinctual approach, her impulsiveness drove events—set them on a path. Her own tendency to think things through worked to create a sense of order, of purpose. And lists were a big part of that. Honey did know that in some way it was a false sense of control; lists couldn’t make sense of everything the universe threw at a person, but it kept the chaos at bay and for now, that was enough.
                                                               §

Dan examined the tree he and Mr. Maypenny had selected and adjusted it in the stand. With the Bob-Whites going out of town, the older man, who’d opened his home and his heart to a troubled young teenager years earlier, had arranged to visit his nephew for Christmas. But they had still chosen a tree together—a tradition started Dan’s very first year in Sleepyside.  The simple little house, buried in the woods, was always cozy, but with the addition of a tree it felt, to Dan anyway, almost magical.

They’d also planned an early celebration, the two of them and his uncle Bill. At least they could still go ahead with that. And staying meant he and his uncle could spend Christmas Day together. Yet, he was disappointed about Hawai’i, try as he might to suppress the feeling. He’d always been drawn to the island state.  Well, for a long time anyway. Was it the lure of sun and sea and sand? The elusive scent and beauty of hibiscus? The warmth and openness of the people?

 If he were honest with himself, he couldn’t say, but it called to him in ways he didn’t fully understand, and when Matthew Wheeler offered to fly them all out to an eco resort he was looking to invest in, he’d felt as if he was moving towards something pre-destined.  And now…he gave himself shake. His Irishness was messing with his head—he was more practical than fey—policemen usually were, and he was sure the feeling would pass. After all, he had the vacation time approved, and Di was right, there were worse places to spend Christmas than Sleepyside. He should know. 

                                                       §

“When they found her Christmas mornin'
At the scene of the attack
There were hoof prints on her forehead
And incriminatin' Claus marks on her back.”

            Trixie Belden-Frayne sang the well-known parody song enthusiastically, albeit, just a little out of tune.

            “That’s my girl,” Jim said as he flung open the French doors to the living room. “Such a sentimentalist.”

Trixie poked out her tongue, but her blue eyes sparkled.  “I’ll give you sentimental. Now, where’s our tree?”

“Right here, your highness.” Jim began to drag a freshly cut sturdy fir tree through the French doors and across the threshold.  “You do know the fact that it’s a few days after Thanksgiving does not make it mandatory to cut down a tree for Christmas.”

“Excuse me,” Trixie sniffed. “We are parents now. Do you want our child to grow up traumatized by our lack of holiday observance?”

Jim rolled his eyes and hauled the remainder of the tree through the doors, and then closed them behind him. It was a chilly morning. “First if all, our child is nine months old.  I’m almost certain he won’t remember this Christmas. Second of all, ‘holiday observance’? Have you been talking to Mart?”

“As if.” Trixie bent down over her sleeping son and blew him a kiss before crossing to join her husband. “That tree is perfect.”

“Perfectly perfect?” he teased.

Trixie nodded her head, bouncing her sandy blond curls. “I love Christmas.”

“It is still November, but yeah, I know you do.”

“Anyway, we’d planned already to have the tree today because we weren’t going to be here for Christmas Day. I know we will be now, but that’s no reason to change well-laid plans.”

“I didn’t know you needed a reason to change well-laid plans.” Jim propped the tree against the wood paneled wall, and slid an arm around his wife.

Trixie wrinkled her nose. “Now, you sound like Honey.”

“Did you call her last night?”

“Actually, I did,” Trixie replied. A frown puckered her brow. “Was she really looking forward to going to Hawai’i?”

“Well, sure. We all were. Why?”

“She sounded funny. And last night when your dad told us, well, at the time, I got the impression that she was more worried about the rest of us being disappointed.”

Jim shrugged. “That’s fairly typical.”

            “Exactly,” Trixie agreed. “But when I rang after we got home, she seemed…”

“What?” Jim asked, seeing the expression on her face.

“I don’t know. Something.” Trixie shrugged. “It’s probably my overactive imagination. Just ignore me.”

“Never,” Jim returned, tightening his embrace. “Now, where do you want this tree?’
          
                                                  §

“How’d the shopping go?” Brian asked as he hung his jacket on the hook by the door and dropped his keys into the glass bowl on the entrance table.

“What?” Honey had barely registered his arrival and she spun around now to face him, a frown marring her pretty features.

“The shopping,” Brian repeated. “How many gifts did you pick up today?”

“None,” Honey said shortly.

“None?” Brian’s dark brows lifted, and he crossed the room to pull her into an embrace. “Honey Wheeler entered the stores for her traditional November Christmas shopping and emerged without a single gift? Is the world ending or something?”

“Funny.” Honey pulled away without returning the hug and moved back into the apartment kitchen.

A frown crossed Brian’s face now. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You just seem a little…flat. Are you feeling okay? I know you tossed and turned last night.”

“I feel fine,” Honey snapped. “Please don’t play doctor with me.”

             She could hear how hard she sounded and hated it.  But if she let her guard down she’d tell him everything and she’d promised not to. Besides why did he have to be so…Brian?

“Sorry. You usually get a kick out of today.”

“It’s ridiculous—all those carols and decorations this early. It’s so commercial and fake,” Honey said, knowing it was the polar opposite of her normal reaction.

Brian dropped the brown paper bag he was carrying on the small island bench that separated the kitchen from dining area. “You probably won’t want to look at this, then.”

She saw the uncertainty in those dark eyes and felt even worse. She loved the man that stood before her with all of her heart and keeping him at arm’s length was awful.

“What is it?” she asked, trying to sound curious rather than irritated.

 Slowly Brian opened the bag and withdrew a miniature tree. “It lights up,” he said, flicking a tiny switch, his expression still wary. “You said last year you’d love to have a tree in every window of the apartment, and I saw this and…”

“It’s lovely,” Honey whispered, blinking back tears.

“Sweetheart, are you sure everything is okay?” Brian reached out his hand and she took it for just a moment.

“Of course,” she said. “I’m just tired. You’re right. I didn’t sleep very well.”

Brian nodded, but she knew him, and she knew he wouldn’t let it go if he continued to see signs of stress and upset. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of a way to keep them at bay.

                                                         §

“Matthew, you promised me!” Madeleine Wheeler’s beautiful face was already sporting unfamiliar lines, now a frown furrowed her carefully smoothed brow.

Her husband took her hand in his, his expression penitent. “I had to tell them about Hawai’i”

“I’m not talking about Hawai’i.”

            “Well, I did not count on the fact that our daughter is a trained investigator and very perceptive. It was Trixie I was trying to steer clear of.”

In spite of everything, his wife smiled at this.  “I admit I was worried about her, too. She has an uncanny ability where anything mysterious is concerned.”

“Well, it’s rubbed off on our girl. I couldn’t lie to her, Maddie. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my love,” she said, leaning into his strong embrace. “I’d just hoped to delay telling anyone until I’d had a couple of more treatments. The doctor does seem to think I’ll be able to be home for Christmas.”

“Of course you will be. But Maddie, I need to tell the others. This is too much for Honey to carry around on her own. She gave me her word that she wouldn’t talk to Brian, but I know how hard that must be.” He didn’t add that he could see how hard it was.  In the past day or so, Honey had retreated behind a polite, but slightly frosty façade. She tried, he could see that, but already both Brian and Trixie were concerned about the change in her demeanor.

Madeleine raised her head from her husband’s broad shoulder, and he looked into those eyes, so similar to that of their daughter. “It’s selfish not to tell them, isn’t it? I just hate to ruin everyone’s plans for Christmas. Trixie and Jim, and darling Jem, are finally in their home, and Honey adores Christmas.”

“Honey loves you more,” Matt returned simply. “And Jim and Trixie need to know this. They love you, too. You have to let us stand beside you, Maddie.”

“You’re always beside me,” she said with a smile. “But you’re right. We’ve raised strong, wonderful children and they have loving, supportive partners.  I’d like to have been there when you told them, but with another session this afternoon…”

Matthew nodded. “I’ll be with you for that. Then I’ll go home and have dinner with our family, and we’ll get through his together.”

She nodded, seeing the relief in his face and realizing how hard the past couple of weeks had been for him. If only she was sure the worst was behind them.            

                                                              §

 Honey felt rather than saw Brian’s gaze continue to fall on her as they sipped their pre-dinner drinks in the Manor House living room. A roaring fire sent a glow around the expansive space, and with the furniture clustered to take full advantage of its warmth, the gathered group felt cozy in spite of the room’s size. 

Knowing her father was going to break the news of her mother’s illness, she steadfastly avoided conversation with Brian, Trixie and Jim. She poured the drinks, carried around a tray of canapés and kept herself as busy as possible.

“I’m glad you were all able to make dinner tonight,” Matt Wheeler said, moving to stand at the edge of the mahogany mantle.

“No problem, Dad.” Jim might not have his wife’s instincts, but he could feel the tension in the room, and it emanated from both his father and his sister. Trixie’s hand, squeezing his, told him she was feeling it, too.

Brian shifted on the sofa as Honey finally stopped moving about the room and came to sit beside him.

“I’m not sure how to do this.” Matthew Wheeler, powerful businessman, confident and capable, wore an expression unfamiliar to those close family members who sat before him and knew him well.  

“Unfortunately, it’s not the best of conversations. It never is when someone you love is facing a difficult challenge.” His gaze automatically fell on his daughter and all others shifted to her, too.

Trixie felt Jim stiffen beside her, but it was the look on her brother’s face that brought tears to her blue eyes. Cool, composed, always good in a crisis, she saw him tense, the muscles in his face freezing.

“Cancer,” Matthew said. “Even that word…”

Trixie kept her eyes on Brian and saw the naked fear he could no longer hide. Jim held on tight, and Matthew Wheeler drew breath. “Jim, I want you to know that your mother’s prognosis is not all bad, and we are going to do everything.” He stopped mid-sentence as Brian expelled his breath and turned on Honey.

“Not you, thank god.”

They all stared, and Brian went white. “I’m sorry,” he gasped. “God, Matt, I’m so sorry, but for a moment, I thought…”

Honey burst into tears and her fiancé pulled her protectively into his arms.

“I really haven’t handled this very well, have I?” Dropping into one of the easy chairs by the fire, Matt shook his head.

“Mother’s ill,” Jim said, finally. Partly for clarity, partly because he needed to say the words out loud.

“Yes. We found out about a month ago. It’s the reason I cancelled the Hawai’ian trip. Honey’s known since that night. Not because I shared this with her and deliberately excluded the rest of you, but because she somehow wheedled it out of me.” He managed a smile and, after a moment, Honey returned it.

“That’s because she is a great investigator,” Trixie stated. “Told you so,” she added.

Honey actually laughed at this, and even Brian smiled.

“Anyway, “ Matt continued, glad that it was out in the open finally,  “Madeleine has been undergoing chemotherapy with more to come. She was anxious not to worry all of you, but does know that I’m telling you now and is fine with your letting the rest of the family know.”

“How bad is it?” Jim asked, his voice a long way from its normal strong tones.

“Bad enough, “ Matt replied. “But the doctors believe that we’ve caught it reasonably early and hope they can do what’s necessary.

“She should be home by Christmas.” His shoulders shook a little, and Honey flew from her seat to slip an arm around him.

 After a moment, Trixie jumped up, and pulling Jim along behind her, joined them. She held out her hand to Brian, and he crossed the few steps to stand with them.

“It will be okay, Daddy,” Honey said.

“This is going to be hard on your mother.”

“Yes, it will,” Trixie said. “ But she’ll get through it, because Mow will have all of us standing right there beside her while she deals with this.” Mow was Trixie’s nickname for her mother-in-law. It had taken a while for the two to become close, but gradually they learned to really appreciate one another.

Matthew smiled through glistening eyes at his daughter-in-law’s determined expression.

“We are family,” Trixie said fiercely. “And nothing messes with that.”

                                                            §

“How are you doing, Honey?” Diana poured coffee for them both and placed a plate of freshly baked muffins on the table. The two women had talked and seen one another since the news of Madeleine’s illness had broken, but this was their first chance to sit down, alone together, since Honey had gone into the city and spent ten days in New York while her mother’s treatment continued.  A few days after that, Madeleine had been allowed to come home. It had definitely lifted all of their spirits, seeing her, being allowed to spend some time with her.            

The two young women were now seated in the glass-walled sunroom at Diana and Mart’s home.  Although the morning was far from warm, the central heating, coupled with the sun that streamed through the windows, gave a sense of warmth and comfort. The twins were with their grandmother Lynch, leaving the two free to talk.

Selecting one of the warm, fragrant treats, Honey smiled across at the woman who was such an important part of her life. “I’m okay.  I’m glad mother’s finally home, and it’s a relief to have you all know.”

“That must have been hard,” Di observed before taking a sip of her coffee. She could imagine how her friend must have felt, keeping such a secret from the people she loved—especially Jim and Brian.

As if she could read her mind, Honey nodded her head. “I hated not being able to talk to Brian, and then, seeing his face when Daddy mentioned cancer…” she shuddered. “I should have known he’d be suspicious. Be thinking about what might be wrong. I was so snappy and difficult and emotional.”

Diana hadn’t seen Brian’s face, but Trixie had told her about the fear she’d witnessed in her brother’s eyes, and she knew it must have been awful for Honey. “I imagine you weren’t half as bad as you think,” she said.

“Mm…” Honey took a bite of the muffin.  “I was pretty bad.  I was just so caught up in my own feelings, and even though I knew he didn’t know, because I couldn’t tell him, I still resented him not knowing.” She offered her friend a half-smile. “I do know how dumb that it.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Di teased very gently. “Brian does have a reputation as super responsible, capable and smart. It was a reasonable enough expectation.”

Honey’s smile widened a little. “You’re right. He shouldn’t be quite so wonderful. Then I wouldn’t expect so much.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe that he thought even for a second that I’d have kept me being ill from him, though.”

“You’re forgetting. Brian’s never been rational when it comes to you.”
 “That’s true too.”

“I sort of have this idea,” Di said after several more bites of muffin had been consumed.

“What idea?” Honey asked.

“Well…”Diana wrinkled her nose slightly. “If I were you I’d have worked out a really diplomatic way to tell you, and if I were Trixie, I’d just…”

“Blurt it out,” Honey finished with a smile.

“Exactly,” her friend agreed. “But I’m not you, so I may not say the exact right thing, and I’m not Trixie so I can’t just go bang, and that just leaves…”

“You being you,” Honey said. “And as you are one of my favourite people in the world and would never be mean or rude, I can’t imagine it will be that awful.”

“Oh, it’s not awful,” Di exclaimed. “At least I hope it’s not. You might just think it’s silly or frivolous. Or—”

“Diana Lynch, if you don’t tell me right this minute!” Honey’s eyes narrowed, but she was smiling.

“Fine.” Di took another sip of her coffee and then a bite of her muffin before squaring her shoulders. “You know how disappointed some of us were about not going to Hawai’i?”

“I do seem to recall something about that,” Honey said drily. “I know Mart and Dan, especially, were looking forward to it.”

“Well, yes, they were, and I knew that’s what you’d think when I made this suggestion, but it really isn’t about them, it’s about your mother.”

“It is?” Honey’s voice shook, just a little.

“She was saying yesterday when you and I and Trixie had afternoon tea with her that she felt terrible that we weren’t going. And I said, how it didn’t matter at all, because of course it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we’re together, which we will be, and that we get to spend that special time with one another, and that we have good food, which we will—”

“Di,” Honey begged. “I thought you weren’t going to do a me! You’re taking Honey-speak to a whole new level.”

“Sorry,” Diana grinned. “I’ve been exposed for way too long.”

Honey made a face and they both laughed, and for a moment everything was perfectly normal.

“Anyway,” Di continued when their laughter had subsided, “she was telling me how beautiful it was there. Apparently she and your dad spent a Christmas there years ago.”

“I didn’t know that,” Honey said softly, wondering how many things about her parents’ past she wasn’t aware of.

”So… “ Di saw her friend’s expression and knew what she was thinking. “My idea is pretty simple. If we can’t go to Hawai’i for Christmas, then I say we bring Hawai’i to Sleepyside.”

                                                               §

 “What do you think?” Normally, Honey would run things by either her fiancé or her best friend, but somehow talking to her father seemed the right thing to do.

Honey, being Honey, had made a couple of pages of notes, following her and Diana’s discussion.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” His green eyes bright, he read through her neat handwriting.

“It was Di’s,” Honey said immediately.  “Mother was telling her yesterday about a Christmas you spent there once.”

“That’s right. You know I’d been thinking about that lately, what with our plans and everything. It was our second Christmas together.”

“Oh,” Honey said. “Did you leave me with the nanny?” The thought was not all that surprising, but it still flicked a little wound.

Her father frowned. “No, sweetheart you hadn’t been born.” He studied her puzzled expression for a moment. “It was before we were married. We dated for two years before I convinced your mother to walk down the aisle—in fact that was a very special Christmas for us. That was where I proposed.”

“Really?” Honey’s smile lit up her face even as she catalogued one more thing that she hadn’t known about her parents.

. “That’s so romantic.” Her lips twitched slightly. “I can imagine how grandmother reacted to your going away together to an island paradise.”

“Like many things your grandmother disapproves of, she mainly pretended it didn’t happen.” Matthew Wheeler chuckled at the memory.

“I know she still thinks Brian and I shouldn’t live together because we’re not married yet.”

“You and Brian love another. That’s what counts. Not that, I, as a father, wouldn’t like to see you married, but I do understand and so does your mother.”

“Do you have any photos from that trip?” Honey asked hopefully.

Her father nodded. “I’m sure I do. I’ll hunt them out for you.”

Honey smiled again. “I can include them when we decorate. Di and I are going to do some research. And Di’s already putting some drawings and designs together. ”

“Good idea. You know I might be able to help you out.” Matt glanced at his watch. “I have a call I need to make, but come and see me in about an hour. I might know someone who can help you with this. I think this idea of yours, sorry, idea of Diana’s, might prove just the thing.”

                                                               §

Madeleine Wheeler studied the image in the mirror and frowned. It wasn’t bad.  It was better than the one she had already discarded. She knew that, but it still didn’t feel right. Perhaps the scarf was her best option, after all.

Honey hesitated in the doorway, not wanting to intrude on so personal a moment. She was about to slip away when her mother looked up—their eyes, so alike— met, and Madeleine smiled.

“Darling, what a lovely surprise.”

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Honey asked. “I know you must be tired.”

“I feel better already. Just seeing your face does that for me.” Madeleine held out her hand, and Honey crossed the room and dropped down onto the padded stool that was positioned before her mother’s dressing table.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t go with you today. I promise next time, nothing will keep me away.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that. You’re busy, I know, and I have plenty of people to take care of me.”

“And I’m one of them. I’m coming, Mother,” Honey said and her jaw set in that particular way that Madeleine knew well. It was one trait her daughter had inherited from her father. Even if she only occasionally displayed it.

“Well, I know better than to argue with a face wearing that expression,” her mother said, lips twitching.

“Sorry,” Honey said, but she couldn’t help but enjoy her mother’s teasing.

“Does that mean I won’t see that expression again?” Madeleine asked.

Honey’s own lips twitched. “I don’t think I should make any promise I’m not prepared to keep.”

“Now that sounds like your father, too.”

“Shall I fix us some tea, Mother?” Since she’d learned of Madeleine’s illness, Honey had transformed one of the nearby bathrooms into a kitchenette. Taking tea together had become a ritual for the two.

“Some peppermint tea would be lovely,” Madeleine said.

“The Wedgewood today, I think.” With an array of exquisite china to choose from, Honey had moved a number of tea sets to the kitchenette, and as they drank from the delicate cups, Madeleine would share a story from her past.  Dropping a kiss on her mother’s bewigged head, Honey hurried out before the tears that seemed such a constant companion these days made themselves evident.

                                                              §

Dan laughed as he watched his uncle and Josiah Maypenny adjust the colorful flimsy paper hats they’d pulled from the gold bon-bons Honey had given them for their dinner.

“Very distinguished,” he said with a grin.

“All for one and one for all,” Regan returned with a pointed stare.

Dan shrugged and donned his own hat—pink and yellow—go figure. He glanced cross at the other two men. Uncle Bill wore one of lilac and mint green, while Mr. Maypenny’s was peach and baby blue. Considering she’d requested a photo of them, he wondered if Honey had chosen deliberately. They looked ridiculous and happy.

Each man had contributed to the meal, working together in the cozy, rustic cabin, often in companionable silence. As they sliced and chopped and stirred and set the table, Dan couldn’t help but feel grateful—grateful for this unexpected life and for the two men who formed such an important part of it.

Finally, they pushed their chairs back from the scrubbed wooden table and moved to sit before the fire in the old iron stove.

“Can’t help but think that I should have postponed that Christmas trip after all,” Josiah said, leaning back and nursing his mug of coffee.

“You’ll love catching up with David and his family,” Regan said swiftly, with a decided nod of his red head.

“He’s certainly looking forward to it,” Dan added. “And this way we all get two Christmases. Who could argue with that?”

“Not me.” Regan said.

“Nor me,” Josiah conceded with a smile. “Now let’s get this gift thing out of the way.”

“I’ll play Santa,” Regan offered, leaving his chair and moving to the small pile of parcels under the fir tree.

Socks, scarves and mittens were all exchanged to the accompaniment of grins.

“Honey will be horrified at our lack of invention.” Dan laughed as he set aside a pair of grey and maroon woolen mittens.

“Don’t bet on it,” Mr. Maypenny said, a twinkle in his eye.  “She made those with wool I bought in exchange for a small favour I did for her. Besides,” he added. “I got you a little something extra. Of course now it just seems silly…” the old man nodded to a small package tucked away near the back of the tree.

Regan handed it to his nephew, and Dan opened it carefully. Being a part of a family still meant so much to him and he never took these occasions for granted.

A slow smile crossed his handsome face. “I love it,” he said as he revealed the book’s title. “It’s perfect.” Nā KaiʻEwalu.

“I thought it would help you over in Hawai’i. Not much use, now.” Josiah Maypenny smiled ruefully.

“You never know,” Dan said, grey eyes shining as he fingered the language book. “I get the feeling it will come in handy one day.”

                                                             §

 “What are you doing in there?” Brian yelled. “I’ve been home for almost five whole minutes and haven’t had a kiss from my girl yet.”

“I won’t be much longer,” Honey called from the bedroom. “Pour me a glass of wine.”

“Okay. Do you want some cheese and crackers to go with it?”

“Sounds good.”

“Are you okay? Jim told me you cancelled brunch tomorrow.” Brian knew Honey was coping with a lot, but usually that meant she wanted to spend more time around the people she loved best.

“I just wanted a day or so to ourselves,” Honey called. “With everything that’s been going on, I’ve been so busy and…anyway…”

“Anyway, what?” Brian demanded as he grabbed crackers from the pantry and wine and cheese from the refrigerator.

“I wanted to give you a chance to get used to something.”

Brian poured the white wine into goblets and began to arrange their snacks on a plate. “Get used to what?”

Honey appeared in the doorway, and he looked up and stopped.

“Well, that’s different.”

                                                             §

“It’s amazing,” Dan said as he crossed the threshold.

“Incredible,” Jim added.

“It’s awesome.” Trixie beamed.

The conservatory was, indeed, transformed.  Lights were strung along the walls of glass—multi-colored, tear- and star-shaped globes, interspersed, winking and glinting against the inky darkness of the night outside.

Masses of flowers adorned the tables—hibiscus, orchids. Potted palms, their green fronds bright and spiky.

            A huge banner hung above the long buffet table at the far end of the room.

"Mele Kalikimaka me ka Hau'oli Makahiki Hou!"

Diana and Mart’s twin four-year olds, shepherded by Celia and the Delanoys’ ten-year-old daughter, were dressed in grass skirts and handing out leis to the arriving guests.

“You look good in a mu’mu,” Jim said as he slipped a lei over Trixie’s head.

“With these curls and this complexion I look ridiculous,” Trixie returned with a grin. “But I don’t care. This is fun.”

“You could never look ridiculous.” Jim looked outraged and Trixie laughed again.

“That’s love talking, Frayne. I mean, you know I love you, too, but those Hawai’ian shirts definitely work better on dark-haired guys.”

“Thanks. I thought I looked quite dashing.”

“You look better out of the shirt,” Trixie whispered. “But that’s a topic for later.”

There was a huge traditional fir tree, though, and it was surrounded by gaily wrapped packages.  Seeing Dan, Diana and Mart standing by it, Trixie and Jim moved to join them, exchanging greetings and hugs.

            “This place looks terrific, Di,” Jim said. “I know you had a hand in it.”

            “Thanks. Your mother’s looking good too, isn’t she?” Diana nodded toward one of the small wrought iron tables where Madeleine sat with Matt by her side.

“Wow, she looks great,” Mart said as his eyes fell on their hostess.

“She does, doesn’t she?” Jim’s voice cracked, just a little.

“She looks beautiful,” Diana agreed, slipping her arm through her husband’s.

“And happy,” Trixie added.

“Almost normal,” Jim breathed. “I mean if I didn’t know…even her hair.”

“It’s amazing what they can do,” Mart said, his simple words proof of his sincerity.

            “Especially when they’re working with the real deal,” Trixie said proudly.

Her friends turned their puzzled gazes towards her, then, as she nodded her head, turned their attention to the couple entering through the double doors.

“Holy crap!” Mart said.

 “Is that really my sister?” Jim asked.

Honey was moving towards them, Brian’s hand holding tightly to hers. Her trademark long, dark-gold hair was gone. The pixie cut curled around her ears and forehead.

“You look stunning,” Di cried, reaching out to pull her friend into an embrace. She was the only one apart from Brian who knew what her friend had done.

Honey smiled and returned the hug, her gaze shifting from one BWG to the next. Her lips twitched and her hazel eyes danced. “Brian said that, too. Mart, on the other hand, looks stunned rather than stunning.”

“Give me a minute,” he said. “I’m searching for the right reference…Audrey Hepburn, Mia Farrow…and now, Honey Wheeler.”

“Nice save,” Trixie said with a grin, though her blue eyes shone a little brighter than usual.

 “She looks great,” Jim stated firmly.

“She’s perfect.” Brian pulled his girl back into his arms.

“It’s just a haircut,” Honey protested. “Not a national event.” The last-minute nature of her gift to her mother had taken some wrangling, but Honey soon discovered that there were times when her family wealth came in handy.

“Yeah, just a haircut,” Dan moved closer to his friend and brushed her cheek with a kiss. “Nice one.

“What do you all think of the room?” Honey asked, changing the subject. “Di’s seen it, but the rest of you haven’t.”

“I can’t believe it’s been done since yesterday morning,” Jim said with a shake of his red head. “It’s a total transformation.”

“Well the actual planning’s been going on for a while,” Honey conceded. “Di was in on that and me, and we consulted mother, of course. But we really couldn’t have pulled it off without help from our guest.”

“Guest?” Mart raised his brows.

“Dad’s business partner, you know the one with the eco resort where we were going to stay? He brought his niece with him—Di and I have been talking with her via email and she has been amazing—given us loads of advice and sent things over and everything. Di and I had done our research, but she was able to make it all come to life. I can’t wait for you all to meet her.”

                                                              §

Trixie slipped her arm through her husband’s.  “What do you think?”

“I think that when my sister puts her mind to something, nothing stops her from achieving. Especially when she has another BWG on hand.”

“Even more so when said BWG is not me. I do have to confess that I had very little to do with any of this.” Trixie waved her hand at the beautiful illusion they stood within.

“You have been busy taking care of Jem, getting things ready for the agency and, need I say, propping up your husband.”

“You do not need to say it,” Trixie chided. “There was no propping, just appropriate supporting and a fair bit of hugging and hand holding.”

“I’m kind of fond of the hugging and hand holding,” Jim admitted, green eyes warm. The news of his adopted mother’s illness had thrown him off balance. The nature of that illness had revived painful memories, and he’d struggled to deal with both the past and the present.

Trixie had not let him wallow or retreat—she’d been loving and strong, but she’d pushed him to deal with his feelings and he was more than grateful for it.

“I am glad we’ve kept some of the traditional Christmas trimmings,” he said, with a sudden grin.

“The tree is gorgeous, “ Trixie agreed.

“Not talking about the tree.”

Trixie’s brow wrinkled, and he reached down and gently tipped her gaze upwards.

“Seriously?” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Absolutely. That’s mistletoe, baby, and you know what that means.”

Trixie gave an exaggerated sigh. “If I have to, I have to.”

His grin widened and he lowered his head. “Kissing— another thing I’m rather fond of.”

                                                                §

            Dan smiled as he surveyed his surroundings. It may not be Hawai’i, but the colors and the music, the flowers, the array of food spread across the buffet—even the warmth blowing from the strategically placed heaters—all worked together to create a facsimile.  Outside on the patio, braziers glowed, more garlands were strung from column to column, all adding to the feeling of warmth and light. And at one end, golden sand had been laid across the ground, tiki torches surrounding the makeshift beach. It was absurd and wondrous at the same time.

            He’d left his fellow BWGs to join his uncle, Tom and Celia, and their two children for a while, and had then spent time just moving about the transformed conservatory.  The beauty of it all just reinforced the pull of the island state.

“Oh, Dan.” Honey reached out and pulled him toward the group that had gathered on the terrace. “You should meet our guest. She can tell you all about the real Hawai’i.”

Dan turned and stopped in his tracks. The girl—woman—was beautiful, surrounded by all that light and warmth; her eyes, blue-green, turquoise, the colour of the Pacific Ocean, were knowing, full of promise. He held out his hand, and she took it and he knew that he was meeting his destiny.

                                                               §

“You look amazing. You are amazing.” Matthew Wheeler took his wife’s hand and raised it to his lips.

“I’m having a wonderful Christmas,” Madeleine returned, and her smile widened when she saw the look that crossed his face. “I know how that sounds,” she said. “But all of this, all of our true friends, this house, my wonderful children, you…I’m a very lucky woman, and if this Christmas did turn out to be my last, then I’d have no complaints.”

“You’re going to be fine!” her husband said fiercely.

            “Probably,” she conceded. “But even you can’t control cancer by the sheer force of your will. Not that I don’t love you for trying.”

“We caught it early,” he said, and there was a hint of pleading in his green eyes.

“Yes, we did, and God willing, I will be one of the lucky ones, but I want you to know, Matthew, need you to know, how much I love our life. And how I glad I am that you overrode the protests of a selfish, neurotic woman and insisted we move here.”

“You were not,” Matt began, but he was cut off as she leaned closer and brushed his lips with her own. He surrendered to the kiss, as he always had, as he always would.

“Things seem to be going well,” Brian observed, as he reclaimed his girlfriend from her duties as hostess.

Honey nodded and nestled into his arms. “Mother just loves everything we’ve done. She looks happy, doesn’t she? And, well?” This last was tentative, but Brian met her gaze evenly and nodded his head.

“I had a chat to her earlier, and I think she’s responding very well to treatment. It’s the early days, but it’s a good sign.”

Some of the tension Honey had been carrying around deep inside eased. Brian loved her. She knew that. But he would never lie to her—especially not about something so important.

“I’m proud of you,” he added, dropping a kiss on top of her head.

“Of me? Why?” Honey looked at him, genuinely puzzled.

“You’re doing whatever you can to support your mother, and your dad, too. You’re there, literally and emotionally. It’s not always easy for someone to do that, and,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s easy for you either.  But you’re doing it. I need you to know that I’m here for you—whatever you need.”

“That I do know,” she returned, kissing the edge of his jaw.

“This place really is beautiful,” he said, knowing instinctively to change the subject.  “The colors and the light. You’d never believe it was cold and dark and winter outside.”

“It is kind of magical, isn’t it? Like Christmas.”

            “Like you.”

                                                             §                                               

The food was delicious, the festive room a hit, and the music had them all dancing—with even Mart and Regan attempting the Hula.

When the band started playing the Hawai’ian wedding song, Matthew Wheeler drew his wife onto the makeshift dance floor and the onlookers watched as the two moved together.

As the evening drew to a close, the group gathered on the patio. Madeleine Wheeler looked resplendent as she relaxed against the plush cushions of the daybed, positioned close to a brazier. Her husband sat beside her, their fingers entwined. Family and friends took up places around them, some sitting, some standing.  In the background, the Hawai’ian band continued to play softly.

“Thank you all so much for coming tonight,” Honey said. Her father had asked her to address their guests and, even if she preferred to stay in the background, she knew what it meant to her parents. “So many people have made this evening possible, and I thank them all.” Her gaze swept around the group. Diana and Mart each with a twin standing in the protective circle of their arms. Trixie and Jim, strong, united, her best friend and beloved brother, little Jem nestled now in his father’s arms.  Regan, Tom and Celia, smiling, choosing to be with them on this night. And Dan, standing close to the beautiful girl from Hawai’i.

A few tears gathered in Honey’s hazel eyes, but just the touch of Brian’s hand on her arm gave her strength. “This time of year gives us the opportunity to reflect upon how lucky we are, and standing here with all of you, I, we, feel blessed. Things have been a little difficult for my family recently.” She smiled at her parents who nodded encouragingly. “But families stand together and that’s what we’ve done. Will continue to do. And when I say family, I include all of you. Families are not just born, they are made.  To each and every one of you, I say, and I use these words with utter respect and reverence, Mahalo nui loa and Aloha No Au la ‘Oe.”

Glasses were raised, hands held and smiles lit faces, as a very special Christmas came to an end.


Word Count: 8065

HOLIDAYS WITH THE BWGs

Author’s Notes: Wow, when I saw I had drawn Ronda for my very first Secret Santa I confess I was a little daunted. Not because she is ever anything but supportive and encouraging and generous on this board, but because her layered, complex stories bear testament to an amazingly talented writer. My original story was light-hearted, a bit of Hawai’i thrown into a mini mystery, but it didn’t feel right. This story wanted to be told. I so hope I have honoured Ronda’s request and that I’ve included elements that speak to her. I researched language and specifics and trust they lend a sense of truth to the piece. I also hope you can forgive me, Ronda, for ‘borrowing’ or at least ‘alluding’ to one of my favourite original characters in the entire Jix Fan-fic world. It was done with love. Merry Christmas and Mele Kalikimaka.
Special hugs go to Susan who gave this a look-over when I was suffering from SSStagefright and to my stalwart editor and dear friend Dana who continues to tweak, fix and adjust my work— always to its betterment. And a big shout out to Most Merry Mal, the marvelous co-ordinator of our Secret Santa
"Angels We Have Heard on High" is a traditional Christmas Carol , “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer.” is a non-traditional Christmas song and both are loved by Ronda. Big apologies for the basic nature graphics. I am, as is well-established, technically challenged. There would be none at all if Vivian hadn't generously tried to steer me in the right direction— I love her lots.