Changing Reflections

Part V

The cool, calm mist of the early August morning was broken by Trixie’s screeching protests that reverberated across the kitchen of Crabapple Farm.

“Moms!  Bobby just spilled orange juice all over me and the floor!”

“I did not.  It’s only on your shoes,” protested Bobby loudly.

“Moms.  I have to go to work in ten minutes. I can’t wear my shoes if they’re sopping wet.” Trixie glared at her younger brother.

Moms hurried into the kitchen where she found orange juice spreading across the floor and dripping off Trixie’s shoes and shins.

“Bobby,” she directed,  “go get the mop. Trixie, go upstairs and wash your legs.  You’ll just have to wear a different pair of shoes today.”

“What different pair of shoes am I supposed to wear?  My uggs?” demanded Trixie.

“Why don’t you wear those cute sandals you bought for your graduation?” suggested Moms.

“Oh, great.  Wedge sandals with shorts.  Why don’t I just change my name to Daisy Duke?”  Trixie stomped up the stairs in a loud, vocal huff.

While Bobby got busy washing the kitchen floor, Moms made Trixie a sandwich to eat in the car.  

“I’ve got to leave now.  I don’t want to be late.  See ya, Moms.”  Trixie hurried out the kitchen door and bounded across the terrace.

“Be careful,” cautioned Moms, but Trixie was already out of earshot.

The exasperating morning blossomed into a hot, sunny day that was good for business. Driving from hole to hole, Trixie often stopped to sell cold drinks and snacks.  Seeing that the coolers were emptying, she stopped under a large oak tree and got out to rearrange the contents.   As she leaned over, she heard a man behind her clearing his throat.

“Ahem. Excuse me.”

Startled,  Trixie quickly straightened and whirled around then smiled when she recognized the golfer.

“Oh, hi, Webster.  What are you doing here?” she asked her old school acquaintance, Tad Webster.

“Hey, Trixie.  More to the point, what are you doing here. Wait! Did you grow, because you seem taller to me?”

Trixie held up a foot that had a wedge sandal strapped to it.  “Don’t ask and I won’t have to tell,” she instructed with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head.

“Done.  Anyway, you look great.  But, again, what are you doing out here?”

“I work here driving the concession cart.  Would  you like something to drink?”

Tad looked around.  “Where’s the rest of your bevy?  I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without them.”

Trixie exhaled loudly.  “Sometimes I do things on my own.   Can I get you anything?”

“Sure, I’ll take an Arnold Palmer.” 

Trixie leaned into the cooler and pulled a cold beverage from the bottom.  “Would you like a cup of ice with that?”

“Great!” Tad pulled back the tab on the drink and poured it into the cup of ice that Trixie had prepared for him.

“So,  where are you going to college?” asked Tad, taking a quick sip of his drink.

Trixie wrinkled her nose.   “Westchester Community College.”

“Really?  I would have thought you’d be going away with your friends?”

Trixie shrugged. “I had my heart set on going away but that whole experience is a bit out of my price range. Besides, my grades weren’t that good so I didn’t qualify for any scholarships.”

“Oh.  Well, Westchester Community College is a good place to go. ”

“I guess so.   I’m just not very excited about it.   Anyway, what about you? Do you like playing baseball at the college level?”

Tad took another sip of his drink.  “It’s pretty cool. Of course, last year I was a freshman so I didn’t get to play a lot.  I’m hoping that changes this year.  But we do have a great team of coaches plus I get to travel a lot so  I can’t  really complain.”  Tad tilted his head toward his group.  “I ran into my old gang from high school and we decided to hit the links before we all go back to college.  I guess this is your lucky day, huh?”

“I don’t know, Webster.  The day’s still young.”  She grinned at the young man.

Tad laughed and took a big gulp.  “This would be a nice place to work,” he said, surveying the lush, shaded  greens.  “You’re lucky to have a job here.”

“I am lucky to work here.” Trixie looked beyond Tad.  “Hey, it looks like the rest of your group is done with this hole.  I’ll see if they want anything.” She placed one foot in her cart.

“I got this, Belden.” Turning, Tad yelled,  “Hey guys, what’ll it be?”

One guy ordered a bottle of water and another ordered a can of soda which Trixie promptly retrieved and handed to Tad to pass to them. After paying, Tad stepped away from the small vehicle while Trixie slid in behind the wheel.

”Thanks, Webster,” she smiled.  “I’ll be back around later.” Pushing the pedal to the floor, Trixie zoomed off, leaving Tad to rejoin his group.

*************************************************************************************

The following week, Trixie managed to fit in some additional golf practice as well as a shopping trip into the city with Honey and Diana.  She stood by patiently while Honey and Diana argued and debated the items they thought they needed for college.  Seeing the purchases mounting, Trixie silently applauded her forced decision to remain at home. After several hours of shopping,  the three settled on a cozy sandwich shop for lunch. Trixie, Honey and Diana placed their order then put their heads together so they could really talk, the subjects vacillating between fear of the unknown college experience and nostalgia for what they’d already left behind. In an attempt to keep the mood at the table upbeat,  Trixie regaled her cohorts with tales of her golfing mishaps as well as funny anecdotes about the more outrageous guests at the Sleepyside Country Club.

“So, Trixie,” asked Diana, “do you think you’ll work there next summer?”

Trixie shrugged.  “Gleeps!  I don’t know.  For a while this summer, I didn’t even know what I was doing from one hour to the next.”

“That’s true,” agreed Honey.  

“But just think,” continued Trixie,  “in a few weeks, we’ll all be doing the same thing: sitting in an actual college class and wondering how we’re ever going to make it through.”

Diana and Honey looked at each other then burst into giggles.

“Truer words were never spoken,” nodded Honey.

“We’ll have to have a conference call every night just so we can help each other out,” said Diana.

“Hey!  That sounds like a good idea.” agreed Trixie.

“Thank you.” Diana bowed her head slightly.  “But seriously, Trixie, your summer has been so interesting.  Who would think working at the country club would open so many new doors for you?”

“I know,” grinned Tixie.  “With my job and Bobwhite activities, plus trying to golf and help with the horses,  I barely have time to breathe.”

“But you like being busy, right?” asked Honey.

“Of course, dahling.” Trixie spoke in an exaggerated tone.  “How else does one avoid Bobby?”

“By taking long shopping trips to the city,” responded Honey before collapsing into giggles that infected them all.

**********

“Come on, Trixie.  We need to get going or we’ll miss our tee time.”  Peter Belden yelled up the stairs to his daughter with whom he was playing golf that morning.

“Coming, Daddy.”  Trixie ran into the kitchen, her hair still damp from her shower and her shoes clasped in her hand.  “Okay, let’s go.”  Trixie led her father out the back door.

If Trixie was excited about playing a round of golf with her father, Peter was even more excited to be golfing with his daughter.  After loading their clubs onto a cart, the two took off, planning to play the back nine holes. Trixie proudly showed her father what she had learned but also listened to his advice and tips.

As they drove along, Peter talked with Trixie about her job and what she was going to do when school started.

“The country club said I could work weekends, as long as the weather holds.  But once it gets cold, they’re going to try to find me a position inside.” Trixie bounced in the cart excitedly.  “There’s the next hole.”  She pointed to the marked tee box.

Peter stopped the cart and two got out and teed off.  

“Good shot, Princess,” said Peter as Trixie’s ball sailed down the fairway.

“Thanks, Daddy.  But they may be my only good shot of the day.”

Peter laughed. “Spoken like a true golfer.”

As the two proceeded through the course, Trixie proudly introduced her father to any coworkers that they happened upon. She was particularly eager to introduce him to Ryan.

“Ah, one of Trixie’s mysteries,” said Peter when he met the young groundskeeper.

“Is that how I’m defined?” chuckled Ryan.  “That’s way better than being thought of as the grubby groundskeeper who is known for his penchant for water.”

“Ha! Ha! Very funny,” Trixie grinned.

The three chatted a bit longer then Peter and Trixie moved on to the next hole while Ryan attacked the every-spreading lemon balm that threatened to overtake the begonias.

When their game was done, Peter and Trixie grabbed a snack in the dining room before heading home.

“I had a lot of fun with you today,” said Peter as he started the car.

“Me too!” replied Trixie.

“Your mother and I are proud of all you’ve done this summer.”  Peter held up his hand to stop the protest he knew would be coming from Trixie.  “I know it wasn’t easy and in fact, you were quite scatterbrained when you first started working.  And you can’t deny you had some rough moments with your friends  But somehow, you persevered and you now seem to have a good balance between your work and your social life.”

“Thanks, Dad. It wasn’t always easy and it took me a while to figure things out.”

“So I noticed.” Peter winked.  “But now I have a new golf partner.”

Trixie fastened her seatbelt.  “And I plan on being your golf partner for a long time.”

Driving down the scenic road that led out of the country club, the two debated what they thought they might have for dinner and tried to nail down a day when they could golf again.

Back at Crabapple Farm, a happy Trixie ran into the kitchen and gave her mother a hug.  “We had so much fun today.”

Moms returned the hug.  “I’m glad.  Your father was awfully excited about this game.”

“We’re going to do it again.”  Trixie grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter.

“Great.  But in the meantime, you have some chores around here to get done.”

“On it, Moms,”  Holding the apple in her mouth, Trixie took off her shoes and put them by the back door then ran up to her room to get changed.

************

The middle of August brought a flurry of activity for Honey and Diana.  Plastic packing crates appeared in their rooms and each day both girls added necessary items to them. Phone calls went back and forth as they debated what to take to college and what to leave at home.  Trixie was grateful that her schedule was full enough that she was able to avoid the mini dramas that seemed to play out daily with her two friends as they made their preparations.  One hot morning, Trixie was fortunate to encounter Ryan while she was making her usual rounds in her concession cart.

“Hey, Ryan,” she called out.

“Hey, yourself.  How’s it going?”

“Pretty good.  How about you?”

“Same.”

“Was there a shot glass there this morning?”

Ryan shook his head and climbed into the Trixie’s cart to get out of the sun.

“Hmm… then do we assume the culprit left town?”

Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know.  But I am disappointed that we didn’t find out who was doing it and why.”

“Summer’s not over yet and I’m still working on it.  Although, to be honest, I’ve been too busy to do much research. But I’ve never failed at a mystery and I don’t plan on starting with this one.”

“You better work fast, Trixie.  I’ll be done the first week of September.”

“Oh.  That makes me sad.  I’ll miss talking with you.”

“There’s always e-mail.  Besides, you’ll have to keep me up-to-date on how your golf game is progressing.”

Trixie giggled.  “Progressing.  That’s a good one, Ryan.  I did play a round with Angela  the other day.”

“How’d you do?”

“You know golf: one good shot followed by 20 bad ones.”

“So you had a normal game?” Ryan grinned.

“Exactly.”  Trixie swatted at a plump bumblebee that buzzed around her concession cart.

“I’ll let you go.  Maybe after work, we can hit some balls.”

“I’d like that,” agreed Trixie. “See you later.”

Ryan climbed out of the cart and Trixie took off along the asphalt path.  She spent the rest of her shift selling drinks and snack and chatting with the golfers while keeping an eye out for the friends she had made since starting her job. She had just clocked out and was walking out the kitchen door when Phil stopped her.

“Hey, Trixie.  A bunch of us are going to play volleyball tonight.  Wanna join us?”

“Oh, that sounds like  fun.  But I’ve already got plans.”

“Okay,  maybe next time?”

“Definitely.”  Feeling pleased at her increasing ability to balance the different aspects of her life, Trixie drove home reminding herself that she needed to water Moms’ flowers before heading up to the Manor House for a Bobwhite BBQ.

 

The next morning, Trixie was finishing up her dusting when she heard her mother call.

“Yes?  Trixie poked her head in the kitchen.

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“Sure.  What is it?”

“I need you to run Bobby out to the mall.  He’s adamant about having a certain pair of sneakers for school and Crimpers doesn’t have them.  I’ve called the shoe store at the mall  and they’re holding a pair.”

“On it.”  Trixie ran up to her room to get her keys, pleased to be excused from dusting and excited to be driving out to the shopping complex that was halfway between Sleepyside and White Plains.  Hollering for her little brother,  the two took off.

“This is a cool car,” decided Bobby as Trixie zoomed down the road with her sunroof wide open, the wind tossing her curls around as well as Bobby’s short ones.

“Thanks. I think so too.”

When Trixie got to the mall, she  parked her car then the two got out and went in.  After locating the shoe store on the mall map, Trixie and Bobby strolled down the long promenade, looking at the various shops and the merchandise they offered.  Arriving at the shoe store, Bobby quickly purchased the sneakers his mother had placed on hold then he and Trixie started back through the mall.  As they were passing a store that seemed to be abuzz with activity, Trixie glanced in the window, then took a second look when she recognized the man behind the counter.

“Wait a minute,” she said, grabbing Bobby’s shirt to slow him down. “Come on. Let's go into this store.”

Looking up, Trixie noted the name,Tech Base, that was spelled out in neon letters over the door.

“Uncle Chico,” she cried after she entered the business that was humming with activity.

“Well, if it isn’t the little cart girl,” grinned Uncle Chico, rubbing his hands together.  “What are you doing way out here?”

Trixie pointed her thumb at Bobby. “PIcking up some shoes for my little brother.”  She quickly scrutinized the store and its array of products, many of which were in locked cases. “Is there where you work?”

“Better than that.  I own it.”  

“You own Tech Base?  Gleeps!  But now that I think about it, Angela did say you had your own electronics store.  But Tech Base sounds so...so technical.  What kind of stuff do you sell?”

“Phones, computers, drones.  You know, the usual stuff. Take a look around.”  Uncle Chico waved his arm across the store, inviting Trixie and Bobby to explore.

The two wandered around the secure displays, marveling at the technical sophistication of the latest gadgets.  Several clerks were busy helping customers set up devices they had just purchased.  A small, glassed in classroom was off to one side.

“What’s that for?” asked Bobby, pointing to the room.

“I have classes here so people who aren’t comfortable with technology can get a better feel for it.”

“Cool,” replied Bobby who turned his attention to a display case full of drones.

Seeing Bobby’s absorption in the devices, Trixie walked over to them.  “Are these drones?” she asked, looking at the variety of oddly shaped items inside.

Uncle Chico nodded.  “They sure are.  They’re the latest in technology.  I can’t even keep them in stock.  The practically fly out of here on their own.”

Trixie chuckled at Uncle Chico’s joke, then turned back to the glass case.  “How do these work?”

“It’s not that hard.  You have a base that gives you the control over the drone.  Then you just fly it.”

“Aren’t they against the law?”

Uncle Chico shook his head.  “No, but you do have to follow the restrictions.”

“Restrictions?”

Uncle Chico nodded.  “Yes.  Like you can’t fly them close to any airport.  You can’t invade people’s privacy. Stuff like that.”

“Oh.”  

Trixie looked at an oddly shaped one.  “Hey, that one looks like it has a hand.”

“Yes.  That’s my personal favorite.”

“Why?” asked Trixie.

“Because with that gripper, I can actually pick things up and move them around all while sitting in the comfort of my Lazy Boy recliner.”

“Hmm”  Trixie continued to study the drone in front of her.

“Would you excuse for a moment?” asked Uncle Chico.  “It looks like I’m needed at the front counter.”

“Sure.”  Trixie continued to study the display before her.  Curious about the prices of the drones, she approached the front desk where Uncle Chico was finishing a transaction.

Waiting her turn, Trixie noted the cluttered counter behind Uncle Chico with its array of boxes and packages as well as the usual pencils, pens and notepads.  But what caught her eye was a coffee mug, emblazoned with the logo of the Westchester Community College, sitting amidst the clutter.

“Do you have any questions?” asked Uncle Chico when he saw Trixie.

Trixie nodded, her eyes never leaving the mug.  “Do you have college students working for you?”

Uncle Chico puzzled at Trixie’s question.  “I suppose so.  Why?  Do you want a job here?”

“No.  I just noticed that coffee mug,” she said, pointing.

“Oh, that.  It’s mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yes, why?”

“Where did you get it?”

“Come with me,” answered Uncle Chico as he strode toward the back of the store.  Throwing open the door to a small storage room, he pointed.  “Right here.”

Looking beyond Uncle Chico’s outstretched finger, Trixie saw a set of shelves crammed full of coffee mugs, scarves, binders, tote bags and shot glasses that bore the names of various colleges in the area.

“Where did you get all this?” she asked.

“I do a lot of job fairs and everytime I go to a college campus,  they give me a bunch of free stuff.” Uncle Chico closed the door and led Trixie back to the display of drones.

Studying the one with the gripper hand, Trixie asked,   “Uncle Chico, what kind of things can you move with that drone?”

Uncle Chico smiled.  “All kinds of things.”

“Like a shot glass?”

Uncle Chico’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.  “What?”

“A shot glass, with a college logo on it and full of whiskey? Can you use your drone to move a shot glass, say maybe to the eighteenth hole at the country club golf course, all while never actually setting foot on?”

A big smile spread across the man’s face.  “Two points to the cart-girl for figuring it out.”

“So it is you?”

Uncle Chico nodded.  “I cannot tell a lie.” He placed his hand across his chest apologetically. “It is I.”

“You had me really fooled with those college shot glasses.  I was so sure it was some student playing a practical joke.”  Tilting her head slightly, Trixie studied the man in front of her.   “So tell me, why’d you do it?”

“I’m just paying a little homage to the local Indian tribes who used to live in this area. You know, placate them so we have good golfing weather.”

“Placate them?”

“Sure.  Look, they lived here first, then we came along.  And now,  their beautiful, pristine forests and lands have been turned into highways, shopping malls and housing subdivisions.  So I offer a small token in hopes they won’t be too angry and grace us with nice, sunny weather.”

Trixie nodded her head. ”So, Jessie’s guess was right?”

“Jessie?” Uncle Chico queried.

“Ryan’s girlfriend.”

“Ryan?”

Trixie laughed.  “I guess you don’t know him. He’s part of the grounds crew at the country club and he and I were trying to figure out the ‘who’, ‘how’, and ‘why’ of the shot glass.”

“Ahhhh,” Uncle Chico smiled.

“And you got this idea from the Memorial Tournament,” finished Trixie.

“The cart girl knows her stuff.” Uncle Chico crossed his arms across his chest.  “I must confess, I copied the practice in hopes of it working.”

“And how does that work for the Memorial Tournament?”

Uncle Chico shook his head, his bottom lip thrust out.  “Not good.  It rains every year.”  He burst out laughing with Trixie joining in.

“Hey!” Bobby poked Trixie’s side. “What’s so funny?”

“It rains every year,” laughed Trixie as she and Uncle Chico enjoyed their private joke.

“Huh?” Bobby looked into the locked cases.  “Hey, there is a lot of cool stuff here.  Are we buying something?”

“Not today, Bobby. I’m ready to go but first I need to thank Uncle Chico for making this summer so interesting.” Trixie gave Uncle Chico a quick wink.

“My pleasure, little lady,”  Chico gave Trixie a curt bow.  “And I hope to see you soon on the course.”

“Ditto.”

“Come on, Bobby.”  With Bobby trailing behind, Trixie quickly walked out of Tech Base, her hurried footsteps matching the mantra that pounded through her brain.  “I can’t wait to tell Honey.  I can’t wait to tell Honey.”

***********

The next morning, Trixie was eager to be off to work so she could share her findings with Ryan.  Speeding along the path,  she kept her eyes peeled for the grounds crew.  Finally, she spotted Ryan as he sauntered across the fairway.

“Ryan! Ryan!”

He turned and waved.  “Hi, Trixie.”

“I did it!”  Trixie stopped her cart and jumped out.

“Did what?” Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Ryan left a smeary streak of dirt behind.

“I solved the mystery of the eighteenth hole.”

“You did? Do tell!”

“It was Uncle Chico.  He owns a tech store and was using a drone to drop the shot of whiskey on the eighteenth hole.”

“A drone?”

“Yes.  With a gripper hand!”

“Which is why there were never any footprints.” Ryan nodded his head as he put the pieces together.

“Exactly,”  agreed Trixie breathlessly.

“But why?”

“It was just as Jessie said about the shot glass at the Memorial Tournament.  Uncle Chico had the same reason.”

Ryan held up his hand and Trixie obliged with a high five.  “Nice job.”

“And now our mystery’s solved.”  Trixie looked across the sunny golf course.  “But it was fun while it lasted, huh?”

Ryan bobbed his head rapidly.  “Absolutely.  Always gave us something to think about. And I’m hoping before too long we’ll see a shot glass back up there.”

“Yes,” agreed Trixie. “And that can’t happen soon enough for me.”

Later that afternoon at the back door of the clubhouse, Trixie unloaded her coolers and turned in the change bag.  

“Trixie,” called Angela.  “How’s it going?”

“Angela!” responded Trixie excitedly.  “I solved the mystery of the shot glass!”

“You did?  Who’s doing the dastardly deed?” grinned Angela.

“It’s Uncle Chico.”

“Uncle Chico?”  Angela fell silent, her face wearing a thoughtful  expression.  “But why and how?”

“Angela,” Trixie put her hands on her hips, “what kind of business does your Uncle own?”

“He owns Tech Base.”

“And what does he sell?”

“Technical stuff. Ohhhhh.”  

Trixie nodded.  “He’s been using a drone.”

“That sly dog.  I should have guessed it.”

“And he does it in an attempt to appease the Indians that used to live in the area so they’ll give him good golfing weather.”

Angela laughed.  “I must admit, he did a good job.  We’ve had a beautiful summer this year.”

“Yes, we have.  So, how’s your father doing?”

“Good.  Anxious to get back out here.”

“And your mother?”

“Okay.  My Dad’s heart attack really scared her so I’m glad I’m staying there and not going away to school.”

“Huh?” asked Trixie.

“In case you haven’t noticed, a lot of people around here are gearing up to go back to college. I’m not one of them. I’d much rather be at home so I can keep an eye on things.”

“You don’t go away to school?’ asked Trixie. “I thought I was the only one who didn’t.”

“Heck no. I go to the WCC.”

“Westchester Community College?”

“Yep.”

“That’s where I’ll be going.”

“Oh, cool. Then we can still hang out.”

Trixie lightly clapped her hands.  “That’d be great.  I hated feeling like I was the only one stuck here in Sleepyside.”

Angela folded her arms.  “Stuck here?  I should say not. I think you’ll really like WCC.  Sure, it’s not a big, fancy campus, but there’s always a lot going on.  The teachers and professors are pretty good and it’s easy to get into the classes you want to take. Plus, by living at home,  you’ll have your own private room and bath.”

“That’s definitely a plus” agreed Trixie. “My friends Honey and Diana are stressed about having to room with a complete stranger.”

“That’s never sounded like much fun to me. Come on, Trixie. Let’s go in and grab something to drink and I’ll tell you all about it the classes with the best professors.” The two girls walked back  into the clubhouse and found a corner table where they sat and chatted about the campus, the courses Trixie would like, and other activities she might be interested in.

An hour later when they left the clubhouse Trixie’s mind was spinning with all the new information Angela had shared with her. “I can’t believe how everything is working out,” she said as she jangled her car keys in her hand.  “At the beginning of the summer, I was miserable because I thought I was going to be stuck here all alone and forced to go to Westchester Community College.  Now, I’m actually excited about it.”

“You should be,” said Angela.  “You’re going to have a great time there.”

The two walked out into the hot August sunshine .

“Hey guys,” yelled Phil from the back door. “A bunch of us are going to play Laser Tag tonight.  You two in?”

Trixie and Angela looked at each other.  

“Why not?” asked Angela.

“Yeah, why not?” smiled Trixie. “And I’m in a winning mood, so the other team better watch out.”

“Okay everybody. Angela and Trixie are in,” yelled Luke as he re-entered the clubhouse.

“Sounds like we’re going to have some fun tonight,” remarked Angela.

“Yep!”

Later that night, after grabbing a pizza with her winning Laser Tag team, Trixie carefully parked her car in the dark driveway of Crabapple Farm.   After she got out, she stopped and stared up the hill at the glowing windows of the Manor House, the landscape spotlights lighting up the exterior of the large house.  “I’m going to miss having you up there all the time, Honey,” she whispered in the dark, “but I think we’re all going to be okay.” Humming to herself, Trixie jumped up the back steps and went into the house.

 

A few days later, Trixie and Honey stood in the middle of Honey’s bedroom and looked around at the piles of towels, bed linens and other paraphernalia that covered every available surface.  The large plastic crates were stacked evenly against one of the walls. Stepping over a  quilt, Trixie plopped down on Honey’s window seat.

“Seriously, Honey, are you really taking all this junk with you?  Where are you going to put it?”

“I don’t know,” wailed Honey.  “Do you think I'm taking too much?”

Trixie shrugged.  “How would I know?”

“Well, stop questioning this enormous amount of stuff and go on with your story,”  demanded  Honey.

Trixie sat back and surveyed the catastrophic mess in her friend’s usually tidy room.  “Let’s see, where was I?  Oh, yes, I took aim and shot the kitchen manager, making my team the winning one. ” Trixie laughed at the antics from the Laser Tag game played a few nights before.

“Oh, Trixie.  It sounds like you had so much fun.  Promise me we’ll do that when I come home for Thanksgiving.”

“Deal. I’ll put it on my calendar right now.”  Trixie pulled out her phone and typed on the screen.

“Wait a minute.”  Honey dropped a stack of towels and sat down next to Trixie.  “Do my eyes deceive me or are you finally using the calendar app on your phone?”

Trixie smirked.  “Yes, Honey, I’m finally using the calendar app on my phone.”

“And?”  Honey watched her friend.

“And, it does help keep me more organized. Actually, it’s a really handy tool. Unfortunately, I learned that the hard way.”

“It took you long enough,” exclaimed Honey.  “I think I nagged you through our entire senior year about using that app. And I’m really happy you put our Laser Tag on your calendar.  I’ll add it to mine too.”

With the date entered,  Honey returned her attention to her packing.  Trixie watched as Honey counted out washcloths then added them to a bin, making a notation on a piece of paper taped to the outside.   Catching her friend’s eyes, she remarked smugly, “At least I don’t have to do all this packing.”

“I know,” Honey shoved a pile of jeans aside and joined Trixie on the window seat.  “You’re my best friend but at the beginning of summer, I was pretty frustrated with you because you were so busy with your job and your new friends.  But now, look how much you’ve changed.  You work, you play all sorts of games and you even get to golf with your dad which is something I wish I could do with mine.” She paused, a wistful look passing quickly across her face.   “And now, your new friends will be going to college with you.   I’m so jealous.”

“What? Why?”

“Because… because...  I don’t know if I can make it by myself.” She looked at Trixie and sighed.  “I’m really scared to be going away to college.  In fact, I wish I were staying  here, going to  the Westchester Community College with you and having fun right now instead of stressing about all this stuff.” She stuck her tongue out at the neatly labeled bins.

“Honey, It was hard having to do stuff by myself but once I did, I felt really good. I know you and Diana are scared, but I think you’ll both be fine. These darn growing pains are so hard.”  Trixie smiled at her friend.

“Growing pains, huh?  How’d you get so smart?”

Trixie laughed.  “From one of the smartest people we know...Miss Trask.  She and I talked about my struggles one day when you were off shopping with your mother.  She said things would eventually get easier for me and she was right.” Trixie got up and poked through several of the packing bins that were on the floor.  “I’ll be honest, Honey.  I’m not looking forward to being without you and Diana.  But  I’ve made a lot of new friends this summer, many of whom will be at the community college. I just might be all right.”

“You know you will, Trixie.  You’ll show us all.”

Trixie spun around suddenly. “Hey, wanna call Diana and go to Wimpy’s for dinner?’

“That sounds perfectly perfect.”  Honey quickly called the third member of the group.  “She’s in.”

“Great!  Tell her I’ll drive.”  Trixie grinned broadly and held up her keys.

“Got it.”  After completing her call, Honey slid her phone into her pocket.  “This packing can wait till tomorrow. Let’s go.”  

The two girls thundered down the carpeted stairs and out into the late afternoon sunshine.  With Trixie driving, they picked up Diana then drove into town and to their favorite hangout.  After grabbing a corner booth, the three ate and talked for hours, relishing their time together and not knowing how many more opportunities they would have to do what they were doing. But Trixie knew that, despite what adventures and opportunities each had individually, they would always come back together as a close group of friends known as the Bobwhites.

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Word count - 5507

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 Images.

Daisy Duke - fictional character on TV’s Dukes of Hazzard who favored very short shorts and high heels.

Uggs - popular style of sheepskin boots.

Lazy Boy Recliner - brand of furniture that introduced its famous recliner in 1928.

Arnold Palmer - a beverage that is half lemonade, half iced tea.

Laser Tag - a tag game, usually with teams, that uses guns that fire infrared beams.