Changing Reflections

Part III

July 4

Early in the morning, the sound of her cell phone ringing on the table next to her bed awakened Trixie.   Grabbing it, she glanced at the caller ID and saw a number she didn’t recognize.  

“Hello?”

“Trixie?  Hi, this is Angela from the country club.  Did I wake you?”

“Uh, no. What’s up?”

“I hate to bother you, I really do, but I was wondering if you could do me a huge favor?”

“Sure.”

“They think my Dad had a heart attack and he’s on his way to the hospital.    I’m supposed to work all day. Is there any way you could cover for me?”

Without hesitating,  Trixie answered.  “Of course.  Don’t worry about a thing.  I’ll get over to the country club right now.  Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No,  you working for me is all I need.  But I’m warning you,  it’s a crazy day there. You’re going to have to work with the kitchen staff to get the sandwiches ready and they’ll be busy trying to get everything else set up. I’m really throwing you into a chaotic mess.”

“Angela, I’ll be fine.  After all, I’ve loaded the cart before. Need I remind you that I've been trained by the best?”

"Thanks, Trixie.  I owe you and I’ll make it up to you.”

“No, you don’t owe me.  Just go be with your family. And tell your dad I’m thinking of him.”

After ending the call,  Trixie placed the phone on the table and lay back down,  flinching at the sudden realization that the Bobwhites were not going to be very happy with her.  “But they’ll understand.  I know they will.  Helping out someone in need is the Bobwhite way.”  She grabbed her phone to call Honey, but then heard stirrings from the other bedrooms in the house.  Recognizing that she needed to get into the shower right away or forfeit her turn, Trixie hurried into the bathroom while mentally preparing a list of what she needed to do once she got to work.

Fifteen minutes later, a wet-haired Trixie, in her country club uniform, rushed into the kitchen where she found her mother sipping a hot cup of coffee while putting the finishing touches on a batch of cinnamon rolls.  

“Trixie,” said Moms in a surprised voice.  “why are you wearing your work clothes?  Aren’t you  going to dress a bit more festive today?”

“Oh, Moms.  Angela just called me and her Dad is being rushed to the hospital.  They think he had a heart attack so she needs me to cover for her today.  I couldn’t say no.“

“Of course not.  Do you have time for breakfast?”

“Not really.  I need to go help with the prep work.   I’ll just grab something from the dining room there.   Can you give me a ride?”

“Why don’t you take my car.  We don’t need both of them today.  That way, you can join the festivities whenever you get off.”

“Thanks, Moms.”  Trixie gave her mother a quick kiss, grabbed the keys off the hook and dashed out the back door.

When she drove into the Sleepyside Country Club parking lot,, Trixie was stunned to see it full of cars.  Golf carts whizzed  back and forth and the outdoor bar was already doing a brisk business of selling coffee and doughnuts. A tantalizing smell of cooking bacon and sausage drifted across the rows of cars, making Trixie’s mouth water and her empty stomach growl.

Entering the kitchen, she found it abuzz with activity.  Busboys and wait staff were setting up extra tables and chairs while the kitchen crew scurried back and forth carrying big servers and platters. Streamers and balloons decorated the corners of the large dining room. Blocking out the hustle and bustle, Trixie focused on getting her own supplies together and into the concession cart.  While counting out money for the change bag, she overheard a nearby conversation about the Sleepyside parade.  

“Gleeps!  I forgot to call Honey and tell her what happened.  I hope she’s not too upset.  But what was I supposed to do?” she muttered. “I hope Moms explained everything to Mart and Brian.”

“Excuse me?” asked an assistant cook.

“Oh, nothing,” said Trixie quickly.  She finished loading up the coolers then set off along the asphalt path.   When she encountered a group of golfers, she stopped and waited.  Taking advantage of her respite, Trixie pulled out her phone and started to send a message to Honey.

“Hey, Trixie.”

Trixie turned and saw a young girl from the front desk rapidly approaching in a golf cart.  In her hands were two small American flags. Trixie motioned for the girl to be quiet.  

“Here,” she handed Trixie the flags.  “You’re supposed to put these on the concession cart today. You got away before we could give them to you.”

After affixing the flags, Trixie attempted to finish her message to Honey but was interrupted by a whistle from the golfers who had completed the hole and now wished to purchase something from her.  “Gleeps! I only need a minute to text Honey.  Can’t I even get that?” she muttered as she forced a pleasant smile on her face and approached the group.

A few hours later, Trixie drove up to the clubhouse.  She was hot, hungry and ready for a break, plus she needed to restock her supplies.  When she walked into the dining room she saw a huge spread of hot dogs, hamburgers, fried chicken, baked beans and various  salads. An array of cookies, brownies and ice cream rounded out the feast.

“What’s all this?” she asked a nearby server.

“Oh, didn’t you know?  The management does this every year for the golfers, guests, and the employees. It’s the club’s Fourth of July celebration.  Help yourself.”

Trixie looked at the food in front of her and decided she had earned a break.  She eagerly grabbed a plate and began filling it then wound her way through the noisy dining room until she found a table full of employees.

“Hey, Trixie, have a seat,” called out Phil.  He held out a chair and motioned for her to join them.

Trixie plunked down her plate and pulled the chair under her. “Whew! I can’t believe how many people are here today.  It’s crazy! Is it always like this?”

“Yep,” answered the dining room manager.  “A lot of people from the city love to spend the Fourth of July at the Sleepyside Country Club.  We do it right!”

“I should say!” agreed Trixie enthusiastically.

Digging into the delicious fare, she listened to the entertaining conversation that flowed around the table.  Phil was telling a particularly amusing story regarding a lifeguard named Scott who was a notorious practical joker.  

“Really?” questioned Trixie incredulously, “he really changed the signs on the employee restroom doors?”

Phil nodded.  “Yeah.  I guess his practical joke fame had to eclipse his shot glass collection fame”.

“Shot glass collection fame?” Trixie stopped eating.  “He has a collection of shot glasses?”

“Yep. He has one from each college he applied to but never got into.” Phil laughed. “I think he’s going to be a lifeguard forever.”

“What does he do with all these shot glasses?” demanded Trixie as she shoved her plate aside.  But when she looked up, instead of hearing Phil’s response, she met the steely, angry eyes of Jim Frayne.

“Jim.” Trixie jumped up, knocking her chair over behind her.

“What’s going on?  You promised you had the day off.”  He took hold of Trixie’s arm and pulled her aside.

“I did, but there was an emergency.”

“Was the emergency a party with your new friends? Were you lying when you said you had the day off?”

“What?  No.  Seriously, Jim, there was an emergency.  Didn’t Moms tell you?”

“Obviously not.  But I won’t keep you any longer.  I thought I’d come see what was really going on since I couldn’t believe you’d ditch us.  I guess the joke’s on me and the rest of the Bobwhites.  Don’t worry about Honey.  She wasn’t upset, not at all.”  

“Jim, if you would just listen to me.”  Trixie grabbed hold of JIm’s shirt in attempt to get his attention.

“Forget it, Trix”  Jim turned and strode angrily out the side door.

Her face flaming, Trixie returned to the table and quickly gathered her paper plate and utensils and dropped them into the trash, her excitement of finding a possible clue extinguished. “I was so close,” she fumed, “so close.”

She gathered fresh supplies from the kitchen, restocked her coolers then took off.  Trixie  stayed busy the rest of the day catering to the hot and thirsty golfers and was relieved when her shift was finally over.  Pulling up to the back door of the clubhouse kitchen, she wearily unloaded her few remaining supplies then completed the required paperwork. Her phone’s ringing interrupted her.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Trixie.  It’s Angela.”

“Angela!  How’s your father?” Trixie sat down on a nearby bench.

“He did have a heart attack.  They’re going to do an emergency procedure in the morning.”

“Oh, Angela.  That sounds serious.”

“It is.”

“What can I do to help?”  

“Can you cover for me again tomorrow?”

“You don’t even have to ask.  Anything else?”

“Just covering for me is more than enough.  It gives me one less thing to worry about.”

“How’s your mom doing?”

“She’s basically a mess.  I really need to get back to her.  Thanks again, Trixie. I owe you.”

Trixie started to tell Angela that she didn’t owe her, but Angela had already ended the call.  Tixie slid her phone back in her pocket and finished her work. As she was exiting the side door, Phil called out to her.  

“Hey, Trixie.  Wanna watch the fireworks with us?”

Trixie stopped and turned around. Looking into her co-worker’s amiable face and tired of fretting over the Bobwhites,  she accepted the invitation. A short time later she found herself amidst a large group of employees who had spread blankets and beach towels on the lawn in front of the clubhouse.

Sitting down cross legged, Trixie recalled the earlier conversation that got her attention.  “Hey! Does anybody know a lifeguard named Scott?”

“You mean the one who pulls all those horrible practical jokes?”  asked one of the servers.

“Yes!”  Trixie felt a surge excitement go through her.

“Yeah, I know him.  Why?”

“I just wondered if he was part of this group tonight.”

“Nope. He would never watch the fireworks here.  He thinks we’re too far away from the action.”

“Oh.”  Sighing, Trixie sat quietly for a minute, disappointed she couldn’t meet the potential culprit.  “The next time I work, I’m definitely going to check him out.” Hearing the laughter and excited voices of other nearby celebrants encouraged Trixie to put the mystery out of her mind and enjoy the rest of the evening.  It wasn’t long before she joined in the fun chatter and teasing with her coworkers.

Somebody produced a deck of cards which led to a rambunctious game of Spoons. The time flew by as the deck of cards was dealt again and again. The partiers got out bags of snacks and passed them around then lit several small candles that illuminated the area.   Finally, night fell upon the Sleepyside celebration and an official set off a small firework, advising the  excited crowds that the pyrotechnic display was about to begin. Even though Trixie wasn’t with her usual Bobwhite family, she was enjoying the evening and happy to be a part of the friendly camaraderie which included a game of naming the fireworks based on their dazzling appearance.

“I’m going to call that one ‘Periwinkle Twinkle,” she announced as a pale blue firework exploded across the sky.

“What does ‘periwinkle’ mean?” asked a voice in the dark.

Trixie giggled.  “It’s a shade of purple.  I actually like it, but don’t tell anybody I said that.”

“Why?”

“Long story,” answered Trixie.  

“Hey, look at that one, Those little wispy things look like sperm to me,” said a young female server.

The entire group laughed as the girl sputtered.  “I mean, you remember in health class when they showed us that ‘special’ movie’?  That’s what the sperm looked like when they were swimming in the petri dish.”

Trixie looked at the small white flutters above her.  “You’re right.  What should we call that one?”

“How about ‘Happy Swimmers?’” suggested a lifeguard.

The rest of the group roared as they all agreed on the suggested title.  The naming of the fireworks continued until the thunderously exhilarating finale announced an end to the festivities.  

“Those were great,” declared Phil.  “See you all tomorrow.” He waved then disappeared into a shimmering sea of headlights.  

The rest of the group stood up, folded the blankets and towels then tidied the area. Drifting slowly toward the parking lot, they discussed the fireworks, debating which ones were the best versus which ones needed some more oomph.

After wishing the group good-night, Trixie got into her mother’s car and joined the queue of vehicles all attempting to leave the country club at the same time. She took advantage of the stalled traffic to assess her day.  “I helped Angela out, totally made the Bobwhites mad, but then ended up having a pretty good time. All in all, it wasn’t the worst day ever.”  As the line of cars began to move, Trixie signaled her turn, pulled out and headed toward Crabapple Farm.

The house was dark and silent when Trixie arrived.   After rummaging through the refrigerator, she put together a small sandwich then wandered out to the porch and plopped down in a chair where she was lulled by the sounds of the night:   the occasional burst of distant firecrackers,  the croaking of the frogs from the Wheeler’s pond, and the constant trilling of the crickets’ mating call.  She sat up suddenly when she detected soft footsteps approaching through the damp grass.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s just me,” answered Brian.  “Trixie?  What are you doing sitting here in the dark?”

“Just having a snack before I go to bed.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah.  What are you doing here?”

“Diana ran out of marshmallows.  Apparently, Bobby and the twins used them as battle fodder this afternoon. I offered to come home and get some since Mart couldn’t pull himself away from Diana.”

Trixie held up her hand.  “Please! Say no more.”

“Do you want to come back to Diana’s with me?”

Trixie shook her head.  “No, not really.  It’s been a long day.  I had no idea that so many people golfed on the Fourth of July or spent the day at the pool.  The country club was packed.”

Brian sat down in the chair next to his sister.

“What?” Trixie exhaled loudly.  “Are you going to tell me how mad everybody is? Don’t bother.  I think Jim communicated that pretty well.”

Brian winced.  “Ouch.  I can imagine. Trixie, we’re not mad at you.  But it would have been nice if you’d told somebody what had happened.”

“Moms knew.  I assumed she would tell you about Angela’s father. Besides, I was so busy I didn’t have time to make a phone call.  I did try to message Honey several times but kept getting interrupted by guests.”

“Mart and I didn’t see Moms this morning.  She and Dad had already gone to the parade by the time we got up.”

“Oh.”  Trixie took a bite of her sandwich.  

“When we talked to her later, she told us what had happened  Then it all made sense.”

Trixie took another bite of her sandwich. “You’re right. It was my responsibility to tell somebody what was going on. Mea culpa.”

“So, do you want to join the Bobwhites for s’mores?”

“No.  I’m really tired and not up for a get together.  I’m working again tomorrow for Angela and I’m sure it will be another long day.” Trixie stuffed the last corner of her sandwich into her mouth.  

“Are you sure?”

She flopped back in her chair.  “Yes.”

“For what it’s worth, I know what you’re going through,” said Brian softly.

“You do?” Trixie’s voice registered surprise.

“Sure.  I’ve been through it myself.”

“What?”

“Yep.  When I went off to college I was scared, nervous, worried.  You name it, that’s what I was feeling.  Then I started classes and got a job in the hospital.  All of a sudden, I found myself doing more than I had ever imagined and could see my goals getting one step closer.  I felt so…”  Brian paused.

“Strong?” suggested Trixie.

“Yes, strong. Is that how you feel?”

Trixie nodded.  “Yes.  And I’m doing really well at work and the kids I’ve met are super nice and always include me in their activities but…”

“But sometimes you over-schedule yourself or feel guilty because you’re having fun with other people instead of the Bobwhites.”

“Yes!”  

“Well, I, for one, am glad you’re having fun.  I’d hate to think of you, come fall, sitting alone in your room, waiting for the rest of us to come home from college so you could have a life.”

“Yeah,” agreed Trixie, suddenly feeling better about herself.

“As for your new friends?  Well, I can’t tell you how much I loved sitting around a coffee shop with other pre-med students talking about medical stuff.  Don’t get me wrong, I missed all of you.  But succeeding at doing new things can be a heady experience and making new friends is exciting.”

“Miss Trask says I have ‘growing pains.’” Trixie made air quotes as she spoke.

“Miss Trask is a wise woman.  And she’s right.  But Trixie, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a great job this summer.”

“Thanks!” Trixie gave an affirming nod then yawned.

“And that’s my cue to get going so you can get to bed.”  Brian stood up. “My one piece of advice...make the effort to communicate better and learn how to keep track of all your activities.”

Trixie nodded. “Honey was after me all senior year to learn to use the calendar app on my phone.”

“Try it.  You might be surprised how much easier it can make your life.”  

“I’ll work on that.  And Brian, do you think we’ll be able to talk again before you leave?”

“I’ll put it on my calendar,” he grinned.  After grabbing a bag of marshmallows from the house, Brian disappeared into the darkness, whistling a soft, non-descript tune as he went.

Trixie sat for a few more minutes before going into the house and up to her room where she got ready for bed.  Turning off her light, she slid between her cool sheets, repositioned her pillow then immediately dropped off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

 

The next morning Trixie was up early.  After a quick shower, she donned her work clothes and went down to the kitchen where her parents were quietly sipping their coffee and reading the paper.

“Good morning, dear,” said Moms.

“Morning” Trixie answered.

“Let me fix you something to eat.” Moms started to get up from the table.

“Thanks, but I can do it.”  Trixie made herself a scrambled egg and some toast.  After pouring a glass of orange juice, she sat down at the table with her parents.  “How was the parade yesterday?”

‘It was good.  Even though it’s always the same people in the parade, it still seems fresh every year,” replied Moms.  “How was your day?”

“Busy.  Apparently, a lot of people like to golf on the Fourth.  Jim dropped in and wasn’t very happy when he saw me eating with my coworkers.”  She shrugged.  “He was pretty mad and made sure I knew how disappointed Honey was.  Then, as I was getting off work, a coworker invited me to stay and watch the fireworks with everybody.  That actually turned out to be a lot of fun.”  

“I’m glad you had that opportunity to enjoy the holiday.  I”m afraid I didn’t see Mart or Brian, so they didn’t know what had happened.”

“That’s okay, Moms.  It was my responsibility to tell them but I was so busy I didn’t even have time to send a quick text message. When I talked to Brian last night he told me that once the Bobwhites knew about Angela’s father, they understood and weren’t mad.”

“That’s good.”  Moms piled some fresh fruit on her plate then opened the gardening section of the newspaper.

Trixie quickly ate her breakfast. After cleaning up her dishes, she stood, impatiently waiting, her hands gripping the back of a chair. “I’m ready to go.  Can somebody give me a ride.  I can’t even tell you when I’ll be done because I’m working part of Angela’s shift and part of my own.”

“I got it,” said Peter as he pushed back his chair.  He grabbed his keys from the hook by the back door then he and Trixie made their way to the country club. The short ride was a silent one, with Trixie staring out her window as they traveled along.

After depositing Trixie,  Peter returned to Crabapple Farm.

“Helen.” he said as he sat  back down at the kitchen table. “I was thinking.  You know we planned to buy Trixie a car in the fall.  Why don’t we just buy her one now and then we won’t have to drive her back and forth to work?”

“That’s an interesting idea,” said Helen, peering at her husband from behind the newspaper.

Peter shrugged.  “We’ll just move up the timeline a bit.”

Helen tossed the paper aside.  “Actually, I think that’s a great idea.  It would certainly make things easier on the home front.”

“We'll tell her tonight when she gets home.”  Peter picked up the sports page and scanned it then flipped to the back of it and started reading the car ads in preparation for the purchase of the vehicle.

At the country club, Trixie zoomed her cart through the early morning sunshine.  She could tell the day was going to be another hot and sticky one.  Back at the sixth hole, she saw Ryan trimming some bushes and stopped.

“Hi, Ryan.  How was your holiday yesterday?”

“It was good. After golfing, we had a cookout at my place.  How was your swim party and barbeque?”

Trixie groaned.  “That didn’t happen, at least not for me.”

“What do you mean?”

Trixie explained about the emergency with Angela’s father and how she had filled in but had been too busy to notify her friends.  “One of them even came to the country club looking for me. And where did he find me? Sitting in the dining room enjoying a picnic feast with other employees.  I got to experience two sets of fireworks.”  Suddenly, her face brightened.  “But I did learn that a lifeguard named Scott has a collection of shot glasses from colleges he never went to.”

“Scott the lifeguard?”  Ryan’s head tilted slightly as he tried to recall the employee.  “Oh him.”  He rolled his eyes.  “Good clue but I seriously doubt Scott’s our culprit.”

“Why?”

“Well, one day Scott was running a bit late for work.  So he locked his car and ran to clock in.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“He forgot to turn off his car. Talk about an epic failure!” He shook his head.  “No, our perpetrator seems to be very smart. Look how well he’s avoided detection so far.”

“Well, I’m not taking him off my list of suspects yet.”  Trixie  stubbornly folded her arms across her chest.

“Who else is on your list?”

“Nobody.  That’s why I’m keeping Scott on it.”

“I told my buddies about our mystery and one thought that a discouraged golfer might be putting out the shot of whiskey in hopes of improving his score.”

Trixie threw up her hands.  “Great! Just great!  That would make every golfer here a suspect.”  

“Too true. Hey, have you heard anything about Angela’s father?”

“She said he has to have some kind of procedure today.”

“Yikes!  I hope everything goes well and he’s back on his feet soon.”  Ryan looked across the lush golf course. “I’m going to miss seeing the Uncles Rico and Chico.”

“Me too.”

“This has been a nice chat but I’ve got to get to work.  Some doofus ran a cart through a flower bed yesterday so I’ve got to clean that up.”

Eyeing Ryan’s full cart reminded Trixie of her friend’s peculiar actions.   “By the way, I saw you wading in a water... “  Before she could finish,  a golf cart carrying two riders pulled up next to her and requested a couple bottles of water.  Ryan excused himself and took off in his own cart leaving Trixie with several unanswered questions.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly.  The patrons were still in a festive mood which made Trixie’s job easier. A breeze blew the through the trees all day, making the course feel cooler.  The flowers that Ryan and the grounds crew tended were in full bloom, their vibrancy and fragrance delighting one’s senses.  Nonetheless, Trixie was happy when her day was over and she was able to clock out.  Coming out the side door, she stopped and anxiously scanned the parking lot in search of her mother’s car.  Not seeing it, Trixie made a quick decision.

“I said I was going to do it and now’s my chance,” she murmurred as she took off running across the parking lot.

“Is Scott around?” she asked breathlessly when she arrived at the pool office.

“Yeah, he’s guarding the kiddie pool,” answered the girl who sat at a window so she could verify members’ pool passes as they entered.

“I need to ask him something.  Can I go in?”

The girl nodded her head toward the pool. “Sure.”

The smell of chlorine and sun lotion assaulted Trixie’s senses as she carefully stepped around the patchwork of brightly colored towels spread out on the hot concrete. Reaching the kiddie pool, Trixie rapped her knuckles on the side of the guard’s chair.

“Are you Scott?” she asked, looking up at the tanned young man  who was twirling a stringed whistle around his forefinger.

“Huh?”

“Are you Scott?” she asked louder, trying to make herself heard over the constant splashing and squeals of the happy tots.

“Yeah,” he answered slowly.  “Who are you?”

“I’m Trixie.  I’m part of the concession crew.  I need to ask you something.”

“Okay.” Scott kept his eyes on the shallow water beneath him.

“Are you putting shot glasses full of whiskey on the eighteenth hole?”

“Huh?”

“Are you…”

“I heard you the first time.  But why would I do that?”

“That’s what I want to know.”

Scott shook his head.  “I wouldn’t waste the whiskey or give up one of my shot glasses.  Have you heard about my collection?”

“Yes.”

“I have over 25 of them and they’re lined up on my windowsill in ABC order.”

“You mean alphabetically,”  corrected Trixie.

Scott shook his blonde streaked hair.  “No.  I mean ABC order.”

“I see.”

“Would you like to see them sometime?”  

“No thanks.” Trixie trudged  back through the maze of towels then returned to the clubhouse where she sat down on an outside bench to wait for her ride.  “Ryan sure was right about Scott.  I guess I go back to a list of suspects that has nobody on it.  Darn!”

Dinner at Crabapple Farm was a quiet one that night.  Mart was off with Diana and Bobby was spending the night with some friends. Trixie was lost in her own thoughts of shot glasses, disappointing clues and difficult relationships.

“Here we go,” said Moms as she set a platter of cold fried chicken on the table.  “On a hot summer day, this always hits the spot.”

Trixie put a chicken leg on her plate, then added two heaping spoonfuls of Moms’ potato salad.  Corn on the cob rounded out the meal.

“How was your day, Trixie,” asked her father.

“Good.”  Trixie took a bite of the chicken, savoring the blend of spices her mother used.

“You know, Trixie,” said Peter, laying down his fork, “your mother and I were talking after you left this morning and decided we’re not going to wait till you go to college to get you a car.  How would you like one now?”

Trixie’s fork clattered on her plate.  “Really?  Gleeps!”

Peter and Helen laughed.  

“Yes, really,” answered Peter.  “I thought we could look for one next weekend.”

“That’d be super.  Thanks.”  Trixie beamed from ear to ear.

“You’ve certainly worked hard this summer,” said Moms. “Just remember that with the car will come additional responsibilities, like running errands for me or chauffeuring Bobby.”

“Deal!”  

After dinner, Trixie happily cleaned up the kitchen.  Slipping the towel on it’s hook she called out, “Moms, I’m going to Honey’s.”  Then she bolted through the back door and up the hill, anxious to not only share her news with her best friend but to also made amends for the missed holiday.

Fidgeting at the front door of the Manor House, Trixie hesitated slightly then rang the bell.  

“Hi, Trixie,” said Honey when she opened the massive oak door.

“Hi, Honey.  I’m so sorry about the Fourth of July.”  The words tumbled out of Trixie’s mouth in a rush.

“It’s okay.” Honey opened the door wider and motioned for Trixie to come in.  “I understand what happened.  I didn’t at first and was pretty upset but after I heard, then I understood.”  Honey giggled. “You know what I mean.”

Trixie bobbed her head.  “Yes, I do. I guess that’s another thing that makes us such good friends; we’re both fluent in  ‘Honey-speak.” She paused. “I really hated missing the Bobwhite Fourth of July party.”

“It’s over and done with. Come on.” Honey led Trixie up the plushly carpeted stairs toward her room.  “Did you have a horrible holiday?”

“I was super busy, but it turned out okay.  When I got off, I hung around and watched the fireworks with a group of coworkers.  Then I came home and went to bed.”  

“I’m glad you got to see the fireworks. They were pretty amazing.”  Entering the serene bedroom, Honey immediately began rummaging through her dresser.  “Aha!” She held up a half bag of Hershey Holiday Kisses. “We can still have our own celebration.”  Honey took one then passed the bag to Trixie, who had stretched out on the long window seat.

Suddenly, Trixie sat up.  “And I found a clue to my mystery.”

“You did? And…”

Trixie shook her head.  “It didn’t pan out.”

“Hmm…”  Honey unwrapped another kiss and placed it in her mouth.  

“But, Honey, here’s the best news!”

“What?”

“My parents are getting me a car now instead of waiting until fall.”

“They are?” squealed Honey, jumping up and joining Trixie on the window seat.  “Details, please!”

Happy to be able to share the news with her best friend, Trixie launched into a detailed recounting of the dinner conversation she’d had with her parents.

“What kind of car you think you’ll get?” asked Honey.

“I don’t know.  But whatever it is, I’m sure it will be great.”

“Ditto.”

As the sun faded from the sky, the first few twinkling stars appeared,  but Trixie and Honey never noticed, too engrossed in their conversation and making up for the time lost over the last couple of days.

Word count - 5233

Author’s notes:  A big thank you to my DD Katie who has read various versions of this story for two years.  Her patience is impressive!  Another big thank you to my sister Judith for her keen editing.  Picture courtesy of Pixabay.

Heshey Holiday Kisses - bite -sized pieces of chocolate candy made by the Hershey Company and wrapped in colorful foil for holidays.