Chapter Five: Spreading the Word
This story is rated blue star and suitable for all ages
Later that afternoon, Jim held his hand out to Trixie. “You look great,” he said, his eyes admiring the way she looked in her navy and white skirt, white top and buttoned navy sweater.
Trixie shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “Moms said I couldn’t go to the country club in jeans.”
“Well, maybe she’s right this time. That sure is a nice outfit.”
“You look nice too,” Trixie said a little shyly, thinking that his green shirt went perfectly with his eyes.
“Thanks. I feel kind of bad about Brian though,” Jim admitted with a frown.
“Oh, don’t get me started.” Trixie gave an exaggerated shudder. “He is beyond annoying. We are actually working tonight”
“True,” Jim agreed. “After all, we’re going to be slaving away at the country club, dining on delicious foodstuffs, sipping sumptuous beverages and wearing ourselves out announcing our benefit show, while he slacks off here at home tuning the station wagon.”
“Exactly,” Trixie said, smothering a grin. “How selfish can you be?” She shrugged her shoulders. “He said we didn’t all need to be there, and I guess that’s true, but still.”
“Maybe I should stay and help him.” Jim frowned as he spoke.
Trixie shook her head. “ Oh, no, not you too. I’d hate to have to make that announcement by myself. Anyway, Dan did offer, after he came over this afternoon to help clean out the garage, but Brian was very definite. I think he thinks that Dan works so hard already and really deserves a treat.”
“I have to agree with that,” Jim said.
Dan was a very different young man from the sullen, troubled youth who’d arrived in Sleepyside a couple of years earlier.
“You will be able to come tomorrow morning to see the theatre, won’t you?” Trixie knew that Jim took all of his responsibilities seriously, and with his parents away he was even more conscientious than usual.
“Of course, Madam Co-President. You and I are in this together, from beginning to end.”
Jim’s words sent a rush of warmth through her, but before she could thank him the gentle tooting of a horn in the driveway interrupted them. “Come on, that’s them.” Jim grabbed Trixie’s hand, and the two hurried out together.
Dan, in dark trousers and a burgundy shirt, and Mart, in khaki pants and a white shirt, were already waiting by the Lynches’ station wagon and sports car.
Di leapt out and made a great show of complimenting the waiting Bob-Whites. She was dressed in a deep purple shift, neckline and sleeves piped in white.
“Where’s Brian and Honey?” she demanded. “Daddy missed lunch and he’s starving.”
“Brian is currently reprising his ‘most honourable Belden’ role and is tuning the station wagon. He figured we didn’t really need him,” Mart returned, offering the pretty girl an admiring grin.
“That’s too bad.” Di shrugged. “But where’s Honey?”
“Probably stopped in to see Bobby,” Trixie said and turned to run back inside the house. She stopped as she saw Honey was already on her way out.
“Honey Wheeler! What on earth are you wearing?” Di cried in horror.
The Bob-Whites all turned to look at their friend. Honey was no longer wearing the floral print dress and pale apricot sweater she’d arrived in. Instead, the usually well-presented girl wore an oversize sweatshirt and sweatpants and had pulled her long golden hair back into a ponytail.
“Mrs. Belden lent me these—I think they might be yours.” She addressed Mart uncertainly
“Not mine, Brian’s,” Mart said, shaking his sandy head with a laugh. “From about three or four years ago at a guess.” He narrowed his blue eyes. “In fact, I’m pretty sure we found those in the garage this afternoon.”
“I don’t care where you found them, take them off,” Di said, aghast. “You can’t go anywhere looking like that.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Honey said patiently. “I’m helping Brian.”
The Bob-Whites exchanged glances. “Gee, Honey, that’s sweet of you,” Dan began.
“He’s tuning a car, not baking a cake or making a new dress,” Mart said cutting him off.
“Honestly, he said he was fine,” Trixie added.
“Even if I just hold the light and pass him things it will still make it easier,” Honey insisted with an expression fixed to her pretty face they all recognised. Honey was probably the least stubborn of all of them, but when she really made up her mind about something, they knew there was little point in arguing.
“Okay,” Jim said, reaching over to give her ponytail a gentle pull. “Well, thanks, sis, it really is nice of you.” Taking hold of Trixie’s hand again, he opened the door of the Lynch car and the others followed suit.
Honey watched them drive away and headed down to the newly cleaned out garage where Brian was working on the car. The hood was up, and he was bent over the engine when she arrived. He’d obviously heard the footsteps, because without turning around he said, “I don’t need anyone’s help for Pete’s sake. Go to dinner already.”
“No, thanks. And that’s not very gracious of you,” Honey said, and he spun around to face her.
“Honey!” He stumbled over her name. “I thought it was Dan again. He wanted to help and…” he trailed off. “What are you doing here?” he asked, puzzled. He took a step toward her, a slight frown crossing his face. “And what are you wearing?”
“Now you sound like Di!” Honey was feeling slightly exasperated. “What are you two, the Bob-White fashion police? Anyway, I’d think you’d recognise your own cast offs.”
“Okay,” he said with a smile. “I refer you then to my first question.”
Honey took a deep breath. Sometimes she didn’t think Brian was quite as smart as he appeared. “When we got here your mom told Jim and me what you were doing, so I’m helping,” she said.
Brian tried unsuccessfully not to laugh, and she glared at him. “Hey!”
“Sorry, Honey, it’s just, I mean I really appreciate the gesture and the company, but I’m not sure what you can do to help.”
“I can hold a work light or hand you things,” Honey said, her tone a touch defensive.
“Fine, great.” Still smiling, he turned and peered under the hood. “I need a Phillips head screwdriver, that’s the one—” he broke off as Honey passed him the required item. He glanced up at her and dark eyes met hazel. He continued working for a moment. “What about the pinched nose pliers?” Honey promptly handed them over.
“Are you going to explain this to me or is this going to be one of those ‘women are full of mystery’ things?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.
Honey tossed her ponytail back over her shoulder. “When, or maybe I should say if, you actually finish fixing the car, I might tell you,” she replied saucily.
Brian took the hint and laughed. “I guess I’d better get on it then.”
Trixie glanced around the almost full room and sighed. It was crowded at the Sleepyside Country Club. Apparently, early bird dinner on a Saturday night was popular. The Lynch twins, both sets, had almost instantly consumed bowls of spaghetti before disappearing into the staffed club playroom. Mr. Lynch had ordered drinks and platters of appetisers for them on arrival, and although everything was delicious, Trixie found her appetite had deserted her and realised she was nervous. Jim flashed her a quick smile, but even that did little to calm her. Mrs. Lynch leaned across to her husband and spoke quietly to him. With a knowing smile, her husband got up from the table, but returned a few minutes later.
“How would you and Jim like to make your announcement before the main course rather than after?” he asked, smiling at Trixie.
Trixie gulped and her stomach did somersaults. Jim reached over to squeeze her hand. “Let’s get it over with,” he said with a reassuring grin.
She nodded, and hand-in-hand the two made their way to the side of the small stage. They waited patiently while the club manager announced them and soon found themselves gazing into the expectant faces of the diners.
Together, the two teenagers detailed their plan. Jim spoke of the importance of their cause, and Trixie went through the type of acts they were expecting. Jim then gave the date and venue, and Trixie closed by going through the registration and ticket procedure. They were pleased when, at the conclusion of their speech, the crowd burst into spontaneous applause, with the proud Bob-Whites and Lynches loudest of all. The manager added his support for the benefit, and Trixie and Jim gratefully returned to their seats.
“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Mr. Lynch smiled across at Trixie and she grinned back at him.
“No, but I’m still glad it’s over.” Trixie said before she took a large gulp of water.
“You were terrific,” Di said. “Both of you.”
“You’re going to do a great job co-hosting,” Dan added.
“Thanks,” Jim said. “I think all of the Bob-Whites are going to do a great job.”
“I know we’re very proud of Diana,” Mr. Lynch said with a smile for his daughter. “And whoever came up with idea of combining a classical piece with the experiences of those affected is brilliant.”
“That was Di’s idea,” Trixie said, surprised he didn’t seem to know.
Di blushed and studied her menu.
“And you’re right, Mr. Lynch, it is a brilliant idea,” Mart added.
“Ready for dinner?” Mrs. Lynch asked, seeing that her daughter was embarrassed by the praise, and thinking what a caring group of young people they were.
Trixie nodded. “I didn’t feel hungry at all before, but now I’m famished.”
“I, of course, could well pass on the gastronomic treats, but fear I would offend my charming hosts,” Mart announced, unfolding his napkin and laying it in his lap.
“That’s very sweet of you, Mart,” Mrs. Lynch said with a smile.
“Yes, Diana, your friends truly are considerate,” Mr. Lynch added, eyes twinkling.
They all laughed, and Mr. Lynch signalled the waiter to take their orders.
Brian wiped a hand across his forehead and straightened up, holding the small of his back. “I can’t believe we’re done already,” he said.
Honey raised her eyebrows slightly, and he grinned. “Okay, I’m the first to admit when I’m wrong. You were a big help.”
“Thank you, and you’re welcome,” she said, as she began rearranging the tools along the workbench.
“So…” Brian dropped the rag he’d been using alongside the tools and moved closer to her. “What gives, Miss Wheeler? Did you sign up for an assistant mechanic’s course I don’t know about?”
Honey looked up at him, thinking that even with grease and oil stains marring his clear complexion he was still so very handsome. “I asked Tom to show me some basics a couple of weeks ago,” she said simply, referring to the Wheelers’ friendly young chauffeur.
“Why?” Brian asked as he reached down to push a loose strand of hair off her face.
“Well, you’re always taking care of the station wagon as well as your own car, and we all ride in them, so it doesn’t seem fair.” Honey’s tone was both reasonable and beseeching.
“I don’t mind,” Brian said frankly. “Though I admit I’m a little worried about how things will go when Jim and I leave for college. I guess I can take care of it when I come home.”
“That’s the other reason.” Honey met his warm dark gaze evenly. “ I thought you might feel like that and I spoke to Tom and he said he doesn’t mind—”
Brian immediately opened his mouth to protest and she hurried on, “Taking a look at the station wagon occasionally, if I help him and if I help when he works on his own car or the one Regan uses. I mean, I’ll probably just hand him stuff or help with washing the cars, but it’s something.” Truth was, she wasn’t exactly mechanically minded, but she could at least learn which tool was which.
Brian stared at her and shook his head wordlessly. He pulled her toward him and lifted her up into his arms, swinging her around.
“Honey Wheeler, you are something.”
She ducked her head against his shoulder thoroughly embarrassed. “I haven’t done anything,” she protested as Brian gently deposited her back on solid ground. “And the rest of the Bob-Whites seem to have more chores than I do. I want to do my part.”
“Wait till I tell the others,” he said, shaking his dark head.
“Oh, don’t,” she begged. “They’ll just make fun of me.”
“I don’t see why.” He laughed again. “But if that’s what you really want.” He held out his hand. “I assume Moms asked you to stay for dinner, so I guess we should get cleaned up.”
“Good idea, because you have grease—or maybe it’s oil—all over your face,” she said, as their fingers intertwined.
“Don’t look, now, Honey.” He grinned as they headed out of the garage. “But so do you.”
Trixie leaned back against the soft leather upholstery of Mrs. Lynch’s sports car. Di, Dan and the two sets of Lynch twins had gone home in the station wagon, while Mart, Jim and Trixie were being dropped off at Crabapple Farm.
Jim squeezed her hand. “I think that went pretty well, don’t you?”
Trixie nodded. She felt tired but satisfied. “At least six people registered to be in the actual show and we have tentative bookings for, how many tickets, Mart?”
Mart, riding up front, alongside Mrs. Lynch, turned to grin at his sister. “Fifty- three.”
“That’s fantastic, isn’t it, Jim?” Trixie beamed. “And we weren’t fully set up tonight. That’s just from people who approached us. Mr. Lynch spoke to the manager and we can go back one night next week and sell tickets.”
“It does feel like it’s taking shape,” her friend agreed, as the car turned into the Belden driveway.
The three thanked Diana’s mother profusely and waved as the sports car backed out and headed down Glen Road.
“Are you coming in for a hot chocolate?” Trixie asked Jim. Mart, with a quick wave of his hand, was already on his way into the house.
Jim shook his head. “No, I really want to check on things at home. Miss Trask gets back in the morning and I want to make sure there are no problems for her to deal with.”
Trixie nodded, thinking that Jim was almost as bad—or was it as good as?—her own brother when it came to being super responsible. His inheritance was carefully invested so that one day he could realise his dream of opening a school for orphans.
“I guess you’ll be glad when your folks get home,” Trixie said.
“It will be nice,” Jim admitted, “and I know Honey misses them, though with the amount of time she spends here, I’m seriously considering renting out her room at the Manor House. It might be an easy way to make extra money for our project.”
Trixie laughed. “Well, you won’t get any complaints from me. I’d be happy if she never went home.”
Jim smiled. “Somehow I think my parents would feel differently. So, am I getting my sister back tonight or is she staying here?”
Trixie frowned. “I’m not sure. We didn’t really talk about it. I mean I had no idea she was going to go all honourable on us and stay here with Brian. Honey doesn’t know any more about cars than I do.”
Jim grinned. Tom had told him about his sister’s offer and her lessons, and he couldn’t help but feel proud of her. “You might be surprised. Anyway, I’ll bet Brian was glad of the help.”
Trixie grinned back. “Sure he was.”
“Trixie, are you coming in, or staying out there talking to Jim all night?” Her mother’s voice floated from the doorway and Trixie jumped guiltily.
“Coming now, Moms!” she called.
As she turned to go inside after giving Jim one last smile, Brian came into view as he strode down the path from the Manor House.
“Hey, how did it go?” he called when he saw his sister and best friend.
“Terrific, I’ll fill you in,” Trixie said, nodding toward the house.
“Do I take it you’ve just returned my sister to our stately home, safe and sound?” Jim asked his friend.
Brian nodded and Trixie wrinkled her nose at him. “Darn, it’s not late, and I wanted to talk to her tonight.”
“It can wait,” Brian said. “She was tired; I ordered camomile tea and an early night.”
Jim smiled. “Good, well, I’ll see you two tomorrow, around eleven, okay, Trix?”
Trixie nodded. “Thanks for everything, Jim.”
He nodded his red head and set off up the path to the Wheeler mansion. Trixie made no move toward the house, and just stood, deep in thought.
Brian regarded his sister carefully. “What muddled notions are causing those creases on your brow?”
Trixie, who was realising just how much she would miss her steady, responsible older brother, rolled her eyes. “I was just thinking how bossy you are, especially with Honey. You’d better not try ordering me about like that.”
Brian sighed and dropped a heavy arm around her shoulders. “Never fear, I am neither that crazy nor that optimistic.”
BSM:MAIN NEXT
Thanks, as always, go to my amazing editor, Dana. She tweaks and fixes and always improves in every way. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
