Friendsgiving 6.0 - Gleeps and Double Gleeps!!

Jim Frayne removed two large turkey breasts from their packaging and placed them onto a large cookie sheet.  After reading through the instructions for the third time, he rubbed them with butter, lightly seasoned them, then slid them into the hot oven. Referring to the schedule he had posted on his refrigerator, he checked off the turkeys, then, noting the big pan of dressing and another of green bean casserole, checked off those items too. He’d already peeled and cut up the potatoes and had them sitting in a pan of water, waiting to be boiled and mashed. The tubes of crescent rolls were right where he had placed them in the refrigerator, stacked neatly in front of the chilling wine.  

“All I have to do is bake the rolls with the other two dishes.” Jim noted the softening butter and small plate of pickles and olives on the counter.  “Everything’s right on schedule,” he congratulated himself silently.  “I’m on top of this meal.”

Going into the living room, he studied his holiday setup.  Since his living room was bigger than his dining room, he had switched the furniture between the two. Now his dining room was a cozy sitting area and his living room had plenty of space to hold the extended table that would seat all the expected guests. A few last minute tweaks resulted in the rooms looking like they had always been situated that way and well-placed candles and special lighting added to the cozy, festive ambiance of his condo. Holiday jazz played softly in the background.

“What do you think?” asked Harper, his girlfriend. She was working on decorating the large, oval table and had stepped back to assess her efforts.

Harper was a librarian at the Sleepyside Library and a substitute teacher for the Sleepyside Schools.  Jim, currently vice-principal of the junior high school, had gotten to know her when she had subbed in his building. Finding themselves quite compatible, the two had started dating a few months later.

Holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger, Jim studied the table. He had borrowed extra china from his parents home as well as goblets, water classes and linens. Harper had somehow managed to fold the cloth napkins into a pocket to hold the silverware. Then she had created a natural table runner of berries and leaves that the two had collected when they had hiked through the preserve the day before.  With a few well-placed candles, the table was a holiday masterpiece.

Jim snapped his fingers. “I’ve got to grab the trivets for the hot dishes. Don’t let me forget that.”

“Just like I didn’t let you forget to close your car trunk after stuffing in the tree yesterday,” Harper grinned.

With the mention of the tree, the two focused their attention on the glorious fir that Jim had found, having no doubt it was the perfect Christmas tree.  It took both their efforts to cut it down, haul it to the car and then into Jim’s condo where it now graced the front of a large window, glimmering with decorations.  Jim had made sure both sides of the tree were trimmed and lit, with ornaments and swag all carefully and meticulously placed.  By working well into the evening, the two had everything ready for the get-together as well as for the upcoming Christmas holiday.

“I know I put the tree up a little early,” Jim stewed.  “But I want everything to be perfect.  And a decorated tree adds to the occasion.”

Seeing Harper fussing with the placement of the water goblets, he added, “The table looks great. In fact, everything looks great.”   He moved a plate slightly so that it lined up with the rest of the place settings.

“How’s the food coming?” asked Harper

“Good. Turkeys are in the oven and the potatoes and casseroles are ready to go.”

“At what point during this dinner do things fall apart?” she teased.

JIm rolled his eyes.  “That won’t be a problem this year.  Disastrous Bobwhite Friendsgiving feasts are a thing of the past.”

“Are you sure?”

Jim nodded.  “Yes.  I happen to have everything under control.”

**********

A half hour later Jim’s guests began arriving at his condo, which was now rife with enticing aromas.  Honey and Brian arrived first, with Honey carrying a cheese platter and Brian toting two bottles of wine. Then Diana and Mart entered bearing three  fresh-from-the oven pies. Finally, Trixie, Tad, and Dan came into the condo.  Trixie and Tad brought a spinach artichoke casserole and Dan brought homemade cranberry sauce.

Slipping out of her coat, Trixie stared at the decorated Christmas tree that stood framed by the window.

“Your tree!” she gasped.  “It’s beautiful!”

Jim grabbed her coat before it fell to the floor.  “Thank you.  I think so, too.  Somehow, since the official Thanksgiving holiday is behind us, I thought it would be okay to have my tree up.”

“But….but….it’s so beautiful. Gleeps!  It’s THE perfect tree.”

Trixie and Tad walked over and studied the tree. Its branches were lit with small white lights that Jim had inter-woven among the branches as well as up the trunk, giving the impression that the tree was glowing from within.  A garland made from natural bittersweet and sprigs of red berries wound through the boughs while pine cones, sprinkled with glitter, gave a hint of sparkle to the tree.  Scattered among the various branches sat seven faux bobwhite birds along with vintage glass ornaments. A handmade grapevine star, wound with more small fairy lights, sat perfectly erect at the top.  Everything was artistically placed, with no bare spots visible.  Around the bottom, Jim had placed a plaid wool blanket that boasted the same colors as the berry garland.

“Great,” moaned Tad.  “The bar has been raised for next year’s dinner and we haven’t even sat down yet.”

Trixie jabbed him in the side.  “Shhh.  I don’t want to miss anything. This tree is so beautiful.”

“Since when do you look with your ears?” asked Tad.

“What? Oh,  never mind.  But seriously, Jim’s tree is a work of art.  If my tree looked like that, I’d want to keep it up year round.”

“Your tree doesn’t look like that and you still want to keep it up through Valentine’s Day,” countered Tad.  

“That’s true.” After giving the tree a final look, Trixie turned, “Let’s go get some appetizers. That is, if Mart hasn’t already eaten all of them.”

The two joined the others in the cozy sitting area and the conversation flowed.

“Hey, Trixie, that was some get-up you had on for the Turkey Trot,” said Dan, referring to Trixie’s Thanksgiving segment for the local news that highlighted the traditional charity run that occurred every year on Thanksgiving morning.

Trixie rolled her eyes.  “I knew I was going to be running as part of the show’s segment, so I trained for that when I worked out.  But some goofus at the station, and I’m not sure who could be so evil, decided I would look sooooo cute if I had my hair in a ponytail with a big bow and was wearing a tutu.  A tutu!”

Tad patted her thigh.  “I thought you looked adorable.”

“Tad’s right,” agreed Honey.  “You did look cute.  And whether you liked it or not, and I definitely liked it, your attire added to the party atmosphere of the race.”

Trixie scowled.  “Well, it’s pretty hard to interview people when you look like a deranged ballerina.”

Mart shoved a piece of cheese into his mouth.  “If you ask me, by necessitating the festive  personality du jour to dress up in a frivolous and frothy costume, it added to the special event, although I could have done with less screen time from the deranged dancer.”

“Nobody asked you,” growled Trixie.

Mart grinned.  “I know. I’m just glad you didn’t take a tumble when you were clad in that tutu.” He gave a mock shudder.  “The horrors of it.”

Trixie held up an index finger. “On the other hand, I understand a lot of money was raised for the children’s wing at the hospital, so I guess I can live with the tutu.”

“What will you be doing next Saturday?” asked Diana.

“I”m going to an outdoor Christmas Fair in Croton.  There’ll be all sorts of crafts, food and other goodies. I plan on using my free time to knock off some of my Christmas shopping.”

Diana squealed. “A craft fair. How fun!”

Trixie reached for her glass of wine and drank quickly.  “As long as I don’t have to try on any weird clothing or eat something like rutabaga soup, I’ll be fine.”

The conversation halted when Jim and Harper brought in a platter of small quiches and sat down.  

“What are we talking about?” asked Jim.

“Trixie’s visiting an outdoor Christmas fair in Croton for her segment next week,” answered Diana.

“Ooh! I love those types of events,” said Harper.  

“It’s a pretty big expo,” explained Trixie.  “Some of the exhibitors have been doing it for years and, according to my research, produce quality crafts.” She stopped and scowled. “But then in January, I have to do a wedding extravaganza.  That might not be as much fun.” She made air quotes with her fingers in reference to the word fun.

“A wedding extravaganza!  How exciting! What do you think you’ll do there?” asked Diana.

Trixie shrugged.  “Wedding stuff.  You know, dresses, flowers, meals, decor.  The whole enchilada.”

“Enchiladas?” questioned Mart.  “That sounds like a potentially promising assignment.”

Tad leaned forward.  “You might want to take a few notes, Trixie.”

Trixie shook her head.  “You and I have already agreed what kind of wedding we want and I’m pretty sure I won’t see anything at the extravaganza that will change my mind.  The last thing I want are mints that have our pictures on them. Can you imagine people sucking on our heads?”

Mart put another piece of cheese in his mouth.  “I personally cannot ever imagine such an unappetizing occurrence. However, I am noticing that you are conversing frequently about nutritive substances.  Any chance you’ll be doing a restaurant review in the future and may need an assistant, perhaps somebody with intrinsic knowledge of the restaurant scene.”

Trixie swallowed her cracker.  “Possibly. And no, you can’t tag along.”

“Ohhh.” Mart feigned hurt and sadness causing the others to laugh.

Jim’s watch suddenly pinged.

“Is dinner ready?” asked Mart eagerly.

“Almost.  Just give us about ten minutes.”

 

Jim and Harper left the room and the others prepared to move to their seats at the table. They quickly tidied the sitting room then gathered their drinks.  Honey covered her cheese platter while Brian cleared the appetizer plates from the coffee table.  Harper brought out a handful of serving utensils which she spread around the table and a pitcher of ice water that Diana poured into the crystal glasses.

“Your table is lovely,” exclaimed Diana.  “I love the shades of those berries and that they match the ones on the tree. Are they real”

“This is ‘Mr. Outdoorsman's’ house.  Wanna guess?” teased Harper.

“Where did you get them?” asked Diana.

“From the Wheeler preserve.  We went hiking there yesterday.  Jim found the perfect tree and I  couldn’t resist gathering these berries and vines to use on the table.”

“That must have been fun,”  mused Diana.

Harper nodded.  “It was. Unfortunately, when we got home, Jim was keen on decorating the tree.  I thought we’d never get it done.  I didn’t know there was such symmetry and alignment with a Christmas tree let alone an order regarding which ornaments go up first.”

“There is with my brother’s tree,” whispered Honey dramatically.

The group laughed then they all took their seats in anticipation of another Friendsgiving Feast.

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

The clattering of spoons against china filled the air as dishes passed from hand to hand.  

“This smells divine,” inhaled Mart.  “You may have excelled beyond all of us in your exquisite preparation.”

Jim frowned.  “Mart, this isn’t a competition.  It’s just an annual gathering that tends to go a bit wrong.”

“A bit?” questioned Dan.  “That's like saying Mart is a selective eater.”

“Hey! I resent that remark. I’d argue more but this food is too delicious to waste any time debating the merits of my diverse appetite.”

“This turkey breast is phenomenal,” added Brian.  “I’m thinking that might be the way to go with Thanksgiving.  Less waste and all the white meat a man could eat.”

“But no thighs,” lamented Dan.  “And, as you all know,  I am a leg man.”

“Dan!” Honey punched him in the arm.  “Behave.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Dan grinned. “Hey, Brian.  Can you pour me some more wine?”

“Sure.” Brian reached for the bottle that sat in front of him, jostling his full water glass. “Oops!”

Diana gasped.  Honey and Trixie stared as the glass wobbled back and forth.  Mart momentarily stopped chewing and Dan lowered his wine glass to the table.

Jim reached across the table and steadied the glass.  “Relax, guys.  It’s all good. A wobbling glass isn’t a portal to a dinner catastrophe.”

“Whew!  That was a close one,” remarked Mart.  “Now, can I have some more dressing?”

“Anything else,” asked Honey.

“Well, maybe more of everything.” Mart’s eyes lit up and his plate was again full of the delicious fare.

The happy camaraderie continued and when the Bobwhites had finished with the feast, they agreed it was a success.  All that remained were the dishes and dessert.

“Let us do the clean-up,” suggested Trixie as she began grabbing and piling up the plates

“Yes,” agreed Honey.  “It’s the least we can do.  This meal was absolutely wonderful.”

Jim held up his hands.  “No. Harper and I will clean up.  You all are guests in my home.  Just sit back and relax.  Dessert will be served in about 30 minutes.”

The rest of the Bobwhites watched as Harper and Jim quickly and efficiently cleared the table then disappeared into the kitchen.  

“Well, I guess we should do what our host said,” commented Dan with a smile on his face.  “I’m all for stretching out after that meal.”

“I agree.  I’m stuf…”Trixie stopped when the Christmas tree caught her eye.  

‘What’s wrong?” asked Honey, turning to look at the tree.

“Something’s off.” Cocking her head, Trixie studied the tree.  “I know.  Some of the lights are out at the top.  Do you guys see that too?”

The group assessed the tree.  Mart got out of his chair and went over and inspected the branches that appeared darker than the others.  

“Trixie’s right.  It seems that half a strand has ceased to function.  If I know Jim, that’ll drive him crazy. I bet he fixes it before we get to have dessert, which would distress me greatly.” Sighing dramatically, Mart patted his stomach.

Trixie stood up.  “I’m going to fix it for him. It’s the least we can since he made such a delicious meal.  Besides, that’ll be a great way to work off our dinner so we have more room for pie.”

“Here’s an idea, Trix,” said Brian.  “Maybe we should let Jim take care of his own tree.”

“Oh, pooh,” said Trixie.  “First, we take a picture of the tree. Then, after fixing the lights, we’ll be able to make it look exactly like it does now. Jim’ll never know the difference.”

“Good idea,” chimed Mart.  “And if we can’t return the lights to a working order, I can grab some  from my car.  I brought several sets home today from the garden center.  Alas, I didn’t expend any energy unloading my vehicle when I got home.”

“Let’s do this.”  Trixie dragged her chair over to the tree and climbed up.  “Let’s see,” she began following the burned out strand with her fingers.  “It goes behind this ornament then up to this pinecone then….  She worked through the branches.  “Aha! Here’s the end.”

She began to slowly unweave the string of lights, being careful not to touch anything else on the tree.  Suddenly a glass ornament tumbled through the branches and landed on the  floor beneath the tree.

“Gleeps!  If that had broken, we’d be sunk.”

“Speak for yourself, Freckles,” called Dan as he poured himself another glass of wine.

Mart went over and held the strand while Trixie continued to unwind it.  “Be careful,” he cautioned.

“Rats! I can’t get the lights over the star on top.  Mart, can you do it?”

Trixie jumped off the chair, then Mart climbed on.  He lifted the strand over the star but, despite his best efforts, it caught it on the topper.  He yanked at the strand but it held tight to the star.  Mart gave another sharp tug then suddenly, the star tilted forward, then tumbled down through the tree’s branches, knocking several other ornaments as well as part of the berry garland to the floor.

“Gleeps and double gleeps!” hissed Trixie with a panicked glance toward the kitchen. “Now you’ve done it.”

“I’ve done it?” countered Mart.  “I believe you were the one who started this little project.”

“Guys,” interrupted Dan.  “Just fix it.”

“But we have to take care of the lights first and we don’t even have them off the tree yet.” Trixie shoved Mart off the chair.  “I see the end of the strand.  We’re almost done.  If we work fast,  we’ll be done before Jim and Harper serve the pies.

After finally freeing the strand of lights from the tree, Mart examined them.  “Yes, these are burned out.  I’ll go get a new set.  Be right back.”   He dashed out the door.

Trixie walked around the tree to pick up an ornament that had fallen and was now balanced on a lower branch.  As she was coming from behind the tree, she tripped over the heavy blanket and fell into Honey, who was still sitting at the table,  sipping her wine.  The wine sloshed out of the glass and onto the table, leaving a chardonnay scented puddle.  In an attempt to protect the decorative table garland from the encroaching wine, Honey shoved it across the table and into Dan’s lap.  

“Oh, no, Honey,” gasped Trixie.  “Now the garland’s messed up.”

“The garland?  Just look at me, Trixie.”  Honey swiped at her chin and the front of her sweater with her napkin.  “Brian, toss me your napkin.”

Brian threw his napkin to Honey, but it fell a bit short.  As Honey reached for it, she knocked over Diana’s water glass, which soaked the rest of the tablecloth.

Honey frantically grabbed the remaining napkins and dabbed at the drenched tablecloth while Brian moved the remaining glasses to a safer spot. Grinning, Dan leaned back in his chair and quipped,

“Relax, Honey.  I bet Jim won’t even notice the table when he sees the condition of his tree.”

“Thanks for all your help,” grumbled Honey.  

Dan shrugged, a sardonic grin forming on his face.  “I do what I can.”

Mart slipped back into the condo  Ripping open the box of new lights,  he and Trixie quickly unwound them and got them ready for the tree.  Trixie pointed out where the new strand should be plugged in. Mart connected it then climbed up on the chair, draped the lights around the tree then hopped down.

“That’s not right,” said Trixie, her voice beginning to panic.  “Jim had his lights wound through the branches and all the way back to the trunk.  Look how they are at the bottom.”

“But if we do that, we’ll have to move most of the ornaments.”

Trixie sighed.  “I guess we’ll have to do that but then, we’ll have to make sure to put them back exactly the way they were. Good thing we took a picture.”

“Uh, Trixie,” queried Brian.  “Who took the picture?”

Trixie looked around.  “Nobody took a picture? I thought we all agreed on that part of the plan.”

Sighing loudly, Brian answered, “This was not OUR plan.  It was yours.”

“I think I remember how the tree looked when we came in.  I’m sure we can get it right.”

“Like anybody could do that,” quipped Dan.  “He probably measured the distance between each ornament.”

Trixie spun around, her hands on her hips.  “Dan, are you going to sit there and throw out unhelpful comments or are you going to help?”

“I was planning on sitting here but I take it that’s the wrong answer.”

“Yes.” Trixie pointed to the nearby ornaments. “Please, Dan.”

Dan began removing the ornaments while Trixie and Mart wound the lights through the branches.  

“Does this look right?” asked Mart as he reviewed his work.

Trixie nodded.  “Yes.  Now work the lights toward the top.”

Mart reached up and wound the lights around, tossing them to Trixie, who had grabbed a second chair and was now standing on her tiptoes, waiting to receive the strand of lights. Finding them just beyond her reach, she grabbed for them, but missed, throwing off her balance.  Struggling against the inevitable, she grabbed several nearby branches, causing a few more ornaments to tumble to the ground.

“Trixie,” admonished Mart.  “Cut it out . This isn’t play time, you know.”

Trixie, having regained her balance, quickly wound the lights around a few branches then prepared to toss the strand back to her brother. But she moved too far forward and found herself falling into the tree, which shifted it toward her brother. Mart caught the tree, then shoved it back toward Trixie.  But Trixie was still struggling with her balance. When the tree’s weight hit her, Trixie felt herself falling backwards and grabbed at the nearest boughs.

“Gleeps!” she whispered in a panicky voice.  Suddenly her backward movement stopped as Tad caught her and pushed the tree again toward Mart.

“Guys!” cried Trixie.  “Stop. We might ruin the tree.”

“Might?” Dan folded his hands in his lap.  “I think that’s a certainty at this point.”

Mart and Tad steadied the tree, allowing Trxie to finish with the lights on her side.  She tossed the strand back to Mart who wound them to the top.  

“There,” he said.  “How's that look?”

Trixie and the rest of the group studied the tree.  

“I guess it’s okay,” said Honey.  “Maybe Jim won’t spend a lot of time looking at it.”

“I hope he doesn’t look at the floor,” said Dan.

“Why?” demanded Trixie.

Saying nothing, Dan pointed at Trixie and Mart’s feet where the blanket lay rumpled and tangled.  Mixed in with it were broken pine cones, the glass ornaments and pieces of the garland. Some berries were smashed, leaving small stains on the wool blanket.

“It’ll be okay. We just have to put this stuff back on,” said Trixie.  “Who’s got the star?  I think that needs to go on next.”

Tad stepped up.  “I’ll put the star on.  I don’t think we could stand an encore performance of tree decorating by Laurel and Hardy.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” demanded Mart. “And I better not be the fat one.”

“And I am?” glared Trixie, her hands on her hips in a challenging pose.

Tad sighed.  “Exactly what it sounds like. You two are so loud I’m surprised JIm hasn’t come out  to see what’s going on.”

“Forget Jim. He won’t come out of that kitchen till it’s spotless.  Now let’s get this tree done,” ordered Trixie.  

Tad climbed up on the chair and placed the star on the top of the tree.  But as hard as he tried, he couldn’t get it to stand up straight.  It wobbled and tilted to the left, then to the right then back to the left.

“How did Jim get this stupid star to stand up?” groused Tad.

“Just make it happen.” Trixie quickly wrapped the berry garland around the lower branches,  forgetting the image of the tree she had admired when she had first entered the apartment.

Tad continued to fuss with the star, finally opting to tie the strand of lights to it, hoping that that maneuver would anchor the star in place.

“That doesn’t look too bad, does it?” he asked the group.

“Not bad at all,” said Diana. “If you’re going for a “throw the stuff at the tree and see what sticks” theme. And I think the dangling plug next to the star adds a unique touch to the decorating plan.”

“Maybe Jim won’t notice that.” Tad crossed his fingers.

Honey nodded her head.  “Right,” she drawled. “Like that would ever happen. That hanging plug is as glaring as a flashing neon sign.”

“Forget about it,” said Trixie. “We’ll just cover it up with this garland.”

She tried to get the woven berries and grapevines onto the top branches but couldn’t.  Throwing up her hands in defeat, she shoved what she couldn’t get to the top onto two or three branches that were within her reach.  Hopping off the chair, she scooped up several of the glass ornaments and, in a vain attempt to have a meticulous placement, lined them up across the front of the tree.  Finally, she grabbed the chipped pinecones and stuffed them between the branches, hiding the parts that were broken.

“There.  All done!” Trixie said, stepping back to assess her efforts.  

Just then, Jim and Harper, pies in hand, came into the room.  As Jim was moving to set  the pies on the table, he froze. His face paled, his jaw clenched and his eyes widened as he stared at his tree.

“Uh, Jim,” questioned Mart.  “Are you going to put the pies down?”

Still holding the pies, Jim remained fixated on his tree.  What had been decorated with careful and meticulous placement of ornaments, lights and garland  was now a complete wreck. The star at the top titled precariously to one side, the garland only decorated the bottom two thirds of the tree, the pine cones appeared to be missing and the vintage glass ornaments hung en masse in the front. The plaid blanket was a rumpled and soiled mess at the bottom.

“My tree,” cried Jim.  “ What happened to it?”  He carefully set the pies down and looked at his friends.  “What did you guys do? And why?”

“Um, “ started Trixie hesitantly. “We fixed it. Some of the lights were out.”

“Yeah, we fixed it,” echoed Mart.

“You fixed it?” said Jim. “Mart, you’re the word guru.  Do you know the meaning of the word 'fix'?”

Saying nothing, Mart scowled at Trixie.  

Ignoring his guests, Jim walked over to the tree and looked up through the branches.  He touched one of the vintage ornaments then the garland.  “Do you know how long it took me to decorate it?.”

“But half a strand of lights were out,” explained Trixie.  “We wanted to fix it for you. You know, as a way of thanking you for such a delicious dinner.”

Jim shook his head.  “This isn’t fixed.  This is….this is…...”

“I think the word you’re looking for is annihilated,” suggested Dan.

“We’ll help you get it the way you want it,” added Mart.

“No.” Jim held up his hand.  “I think you guys have done enough. I’ll take care of it later.”

“Please, Jim,” begged Trixie.   “After all you did today, the least we can do is help get your tree back together. We just need a little input regarding the placement of the ornaments.” Trixie clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture.

Jim looked at Harper. “I’ll get the ice cream in case anybody wants it on their pie.”  He quickly left the room.

“Gleeps!  He’s really mad.   But, honestly, I just wanted to fix the tree.”  Trixie chewed at her bottom lip.

Harper moved the pies around on the table, trying to find a spot that wasn’t wet. “What did you guys do to the table?  Don’t tell me you were trying to fix that too.”

“See, Honey spilled her wine when,” began Trixie.

“When you fell into me,” finished Honey.  “I tried to blot it up then spilled Diana’s water.”

Harper stared at the group of friends.  After taking several deep breaths, during which she  counted to ten, she asked in an over syrupy voice, “Anyway, Mart. Did you make these pies?”

“As a matter of fact, I did have the honor of creating these delectable pastries.”

“They look delicious.  Maybe we should get to dessert before anything else happens.”

“I agree,” said Jim who had returned with a carton of vanilla ice cream and a scoop.

Harper started cutting the pies while the Bobwhites began calling out what they wanted on their plates.

Leaving the group, Trixie went and sat on the couch.  

“Hey,” Tad followed and sat down next to her.  “Cheer up.” He poked her playfully in her side.  “Jim knows you meant well.”

“But I ruined it!” she whispered. “And it was so beautiful.  So perfectly beautiful. I should have listened to Brian when he said to leave it alone.  But could I do that? No. And you want to know why?  It’s because I always think I can make things better.” She dropped her head.  “When will I learn?”

Tad took her hand.  “No, you didn’t ruin the tree. And you really did try to fix it.   So what if it doesn’t look like it did?  Jim can take care of that.  The  point is you gave it your best shot. And, in case you forgot, you do make things better.”

Trixie offered Tad a skeptical look.

“Relax,” whispered Tad.  “Jim can never stay mad at you.  Just offer to do the dessert dishes while the others help with the tree.  It’ll all work out.”

“You really think so?”

“I do.  And if it will make you happy, you can decorate our tree any way you want, even if you decide to put everything on the lower half with all the ornaments on one branch.”“

Trixie shook her head.  “No.  You can’t put everything on the lower half of the tree. That would look ridiculous.” She nodded toward Jim’s tree. “Case in point.”

Tad lifted Trixie’s chin and kissed her.  “Let’s go get some pie.  Explain to Jim what happened, then let it go.”

“You know, letting things go is not something I do well,” said Trixie softly.

“I know.  Just give it a Bobwhite try. And don’t worry, nothing else will happen to the tree.”

Tad and Trixie returned to the table and joined the others who were oohing and aahing over Mart’s pies.  After getting a piece of each pie, they dug in.  

“Mart, this apple pie is really good.  What’s your secret?” asked Honey.

Mart shook his head.  “No way Ms. Wheeler.  It’s a secret. And in case you didn’t know, that means that I cannot reveal the relevant information which you seek.”

Honey rolled her eyes.  “Forget that I asked.”

“So,” said Diana.  “Since this meal was such a success, who wants to host next year?”

Across the table, Jim snorted quietly.  “Success?”

“Well, the meal was,” countered Diana. “And the question is still on the table.”

The Bobwhites looked at each other.  Nobody raised their hand.

“You know,” said Dan thoughtfully.   “Maybe we should do things a bit differently.  This whole Friendsgiving thing has been a lot of fun, but it’s also been a bit toxic.”

“What do you have in mind?” asked Honey.

Dan stroked his chin.  “I’m not sure, but definitely not another dinner that ends like this. I'm sure we can find a way to spend the day together, have a meal and yet not stress ourselves or each other out.”

“Does that mean you’ll be hosting next year?” asked Trixie.  “Cuz if you are, I’m ready to veto your stupid eels.”

Dan ran a hand through his hair.  “Enough of the eels.  So I tried something different. I’m over it.”

“I’m not,” grumbled Tad quietly.

“Me neither,” agreed Diana.

Brian scraped his dessert plate clean then licked his fork. “So, what are you thinking about, Dan?”

Dan swirled the wine around in his glass.  “I’m thinking of a Bobwhite outing,” he said musingly.

“An outing?” questioned Trixie.  “What kind of an outing?”

“I’m not quite sure.  But I definitely think we should all just bring a dish to share.”

“So, a Bobwhite potluck?” said Diana.

Dan nodded.

“Without the fancy set-up?” asked Trixie.

"And no running out to borrow extra pieces that you end up destroying and having to replace,” added Mart.

“And no fires?” questioned Brian.

“Exactly. I think we’ve had enough of all of that.” Dan sipped his wine.

“I say we do it!” declared Brian.  “Do we need to vote?”

“Co-presidents?” questioned Diana.

“Sure. Why not?” answered JIm.  

“Why not?” agreed Trixie as she took another bite of her pumpkin pie. “Anyway, these pies are delicious. And seriously, Jim.  I volunteer to do the dessert dishes so you and the others can get your tree looking perfectly perfect again.”

Jim looked around the table at the hopeful faces of his best friends.  “Okay.  But only on one condition.”

“Anything,” agreed Trixie.

“You can’t destroy my kitchen while I’m out here working on the tree.”

“Anything else?” questioned Trixie.

“And you can never touch my tree again,” answered Jim, with a twinkle in his green eyes.

“Deal” said Trixie, her good spirits returning. “And when everybody’s done,  you won’t even know anything happened to it.”

“Somehow, Trix,” grinned Jim.  “I doubt that.  I seriously doubt that.”

Happy that the awkward and unpleasant feelings were behind them, the group finished their pie, the low murmurs of approval and the clinking of forks against the china interrupting the soft music.  Then suddenly and without warning, the now hideously-decorated Christmas tree fell silently to the ground.

Six of the Bobwhites stared at the completely ruined tree, mouth agape.  

“I didn’t do that but I know I can fix it,” vowed Trixie.

But when she turned to Jim, she found him uncharacteristically shoving bite after bite of pie into his mouth.

“Jim?” questioned Trixie.

“I didn’t see that.  I didn’t see that,” he said through a mouthful of pie and ice cream.

“Don’t worry.  We’ll take care of it,” said Trixie.  She pushed her chair away from the table to get started.

“Wait, Trixie.” Pausing, Jim laid down his fork and wiped at his mouth with a damp napkin. “I have a better idea.”

“What?”

“I suggest we pretend that didn’t happen or we'll never get through our dessert. And guys,  Trixie’s right, we can fix it.  After all, if we’re together, we can make anything happen.  Didn’t we learn that years ago?”

“Jim’s right.  We can do anything when we work together,” said Honey.

“Then, as much as it pains me to say it,we can get to the tree later.” Jim lifted his wine glass.  “Happy Friendsgiving, Bobwhites.”

“Happy Friendsgiving!” they answered, lifting then clinking their own glasses in return.

Author notes:  Thank you to all who read my stories.  I hope you enjoy them.  A special thank you to my sister, Judith, for her editing and my daughter, Katie, for her suggestions. Also, a big thank you to Mary N. for her technical support. And of course, these stories would not be possible without the original publishing of the Trixie Belden mysteries. Garland image from pixabay.com.

Laurel and Hardy -A British-American comedy duo that was popular during the early classical Hollywood period.

 The disastrous Friendsgiving Feasts referred to  were:

Friendsgiving 2 point Oh!- Dan’s traditional dinner, including eels.

Friendsgiving 3.0 - Brian starts a fire in his backyard.

Friendsgiving 5.0 -Mart ruins dishes and appliances he borrowed from moms.

Word count-5824