When Trixie opened her eyes that morning, she didn’t know if she was dreaming or not. It was still dark outside, yet she could hear her brother singing an off-key song in another part of the house. Opening her eyes, she jumped out of bed and ran into the hallway where she collided with Mart.
“Don’t tell me,” Trixie exclaimed excitedly, “the snowstorm has ended and we’re able to fly to Tucson today.”
Mart changed his tune, ignoring his sister’s question.
“Are we going or not?” Trixie demanded, her eyes snapping eagerly.
“Break camp, Squaw. We leave for sunny Tucson in half an hour.”
Squealing, Trixie returned to her room where she quickly dressed then dragged her loaded suitcase down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“I’m too excited to eat,” she exclaimed as her mother urged her to sit down.
“I made your favorite,” coaxed Moms, pointing to a steaming stack of blueberry pancakes sitting in the middle of the table.
Trixie pulled up her chair, piled a few pancakes onto her plate, added some warm syrup and began to eat. A clattering from behind interrupted her meal.
“I’m gonna go too,” announced Trixie’s little brother, Bobby who had entered the kitchen wearing a cowboy hat and boots, with a toy holster strapped around his waist.
“Afraid not, partner,” said Peter Belden, scooping up his young son. “We need somebody here to hang the stockings and to leave cookies for Santa.”
Trixie startled at those words. She never thought she’d actually be away from the farm for Christmas. Suddenly, a feeling of homesickness swept over her and she mumbled, “I don’t think I want to go.”
Before Trixie could say anything else, car horns honked outside in the driveway and Moms quickly reached out to embrace her in a reassuring hug. Trixie relished the feel of her mother’s arms around her and clung to her for a minute.
“You’ll have a wonderful time, dear, and we’ll celebrate Christmas when you come home,” Moms whispered. She abruptly pulled back and looked at Trixie, a concerned expression on her face.
“Are you okay?” Moms asked. “You feel warm.”
“I’m fine. I’m just getting hot wearing this sweater in the house,” answered Trixie.
Moms placed a cool hand against Trixie’s forehead. “No. You are definitely warm. “
“No I’m not. It’s the sweater.”
“Trixie, sit down a minute while I take your temperature.” Moms dashed off to grab the thermometer from the medicine cabinet while Trixie stomped into the family room and flopped in the recliner
“What are you doing, Squaw?” demanded Mart. “Life’s awaiting us on the tarmac of the local aviation facility. And if you think I’m carrying your overweight luggage, you’re nuts.”
Trixie scowled. “Moms thinks I have a fever.” Crossing her arms in frustration, she waited impatiently for her mother to return.
“Here we go.” Moms sailed into the room, shaking the thermometer as she came. “Open wide.” Moms thrust the instrument under Trixie’s tongue and, with a quick glance at the old clock above the fireplace, monitored the time.
“What’s going on?” asked Brian, coming into the family room. Seeing the thermometer sticking out of Trixie’s mouth, he asked, “Is Trixie sick?”
Trixie shook her head. “No, I’m not,” she garbled, trying to keep the device under her tongue.
Deciding that she had waited long enough, Moms pulled the thermometer from Trixie’s mouth and held it out to read it.
“Well? What does it say?” asked Trixie anxiously.
Moms shook her head. “I’m afraid you do have a fever, Trixie. I’m sorry but I can't let you go to Arizona this morning.”
“Noooo,” wailed Trixie. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Moms shook her head. “No, Trixie. I can’t let you go. Peter, could you please come in here?”
Peter Belden entered the family room, raising his brows in surprise when he saw Moms holding the thermometer, Trixie fighting back tears, and Brian and Mart standing by their sister. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Trixie has a fever. We can’t let her get on that plane.”
“No, we can’t,” agreed Peter. Turning around, Peter motioned the boys toward the door. “You two need to get going.”
“But, Dad, what about Trixie?” Brian asked.
“I’m sure your mother and I can take care of her.”
“But this trip is Trixie’s reward for finding the real Mr. Wilson and exposing the phony one. We can’t go without her,” argued Brian.
“I don’t know about that,” said Mart. “Just think: no mysteries, no puzzles, no drama. Buenos dias, Trixie.” Mart waved to his sister, then left the room.
“Brian,” said Peter, “the trip’s already arranged and your tickets are purchased. Maybe Trixie can fly out when she feels better.”
“Alone?” questioned Moms. She stopped when she saw Peter shake his head slightly.
“Come on, Brian. Let’s go tell the rest of the kids what has happened and then get you on your way.”
Hearing the door close behind her father and brother, Trixie rushed to the window and watched as her father explained the situation to the other Bobwhites. She saw the disappointment in their faces and could tell that Honey was close to tears. “Of all the times to get sick! Why today?” Trixie cried silently. She heard the car doors slam shut, then watched sadly as the cars drove down the driveway and disappeared down Glen Road. Trixie clung to the curtains, the tears rolling down her cheeks, oblivious to any other activity in the room.
“Sorry, Princess,” Peter whispered, as he stood behind his daughter, his hands resting gently on her shoulders.
Trixie sniffed and looked up at him. “Do you really think I could fly out to Arizona and join them later?” she asked hopefully.
“Why don’t we see what the doctor has to say first,” answered Peter, leading Trixie into the big kitchen where Moms was making Trixie a cup of hot chocolate.
“Here,” said Moms, sliding the mug to Trixie. “Drink this. In an hour or so, I’ll call the doctor and see if we can get you in. Do you feel bad?”
Trixie shook her head. “Not really. Maybe a little dizzy, but I thought that was because I was so excited.”
“I’m sure the doctor will be able to tell us what’s going on.” Moms patted Trixie’s shoulder reassuringly, then finished making breakfast for the rest of the family.
A few hours later, a glum Trixie sat on the examining table in the doctor’s office, fighting back tears for the second time that morning.
“Stupid ear infection. I’m not contagious, but the doctor says I can’t fly. My ears don’t even hurt.” she groused.
“Come on, Trixie,” called Moms. “A quick stop at the drugstore for your prescription, then we’ll get you home.”
When Trixie and her mother returned to Crabapple Farm, Trixie’s mood had darkened. Letting the back door slam behind her, she threw her coat onto a chair. “What a lousy Christmas vacation.”
“Okay, Trixie, I know you’re disappointed, but you still need to hang up your coat,” said Moms.
“I can’t believe my luck. All the Bobwhites are gone and I’m left with Bobby.” Trixie sat down on her chair, shoving the coat aside.
“Hey!” yelled Bobby, who had entered the kitchen. “Me and you can have lots of fun. We can leave cookies for Santa, and hay and carrots for the reindeer and all sorts of other stuff.”
“Great, just great,” said Trixie. After taking a dose of antibiotics, she hung up her coat, then wandered up to her room where she lay on her bed, wondering what the rest of the Bobwhites were doing. Eventually, she dozed off, awakening when her mother called her for lunch. Trixie trudged down the stairs and took her place at the table, her misery apparent on her young face.
“I have an idea,” began Peter.
“What?” asked Moms.
“I could really use help hauling the toys the bank collected over to the firehouse. Would you like to do that, Princess?”
“What toys?” Trixie asked suspiciously.
“Every year the bank collects toys for the firefighter’s toy drive. We’ve had a huge box sitting in the lobby for weeks. It’s overflowing with toys people have donated,” Peter explained.
Trixie looked at her mother. “Can I?”
“I don’t see why not,” answered Moms. “As long as you keep your ears covered when you’re outside.”
“I wanna go too,” demanded Bobby.
“No, Bobby. You need to help me decorate Christmas cookies this afternoon.”
“Okey-dokey,” said Bobby happily, as he slurped his soup.
When lunch was over, Trixie helped Moms clean up the kitchen then put on her coat and headed to the back door with her father.
“Trixie,” called Moms softly.
“What?” Trixie asked, turning around.
Moms pointed to her head. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Trixie grimaced. “Oh, yeh. A hat.”
Trixie ran to the front closet where she rummaged through the assortment of apparel until she found her hat.
“Okay, all set. Let’s go, Daddy.”
With the snow crunching under their feet, Trixie and her father made their way to the car and got in. They sat in silence while they waited for the car to warm up.
“Princess,” said Peter.
“Yes, Daddy?”
“I’m glad you’re able to help me with the toys. There are an awful lot of them and with your help, we’ll be able to get the job done pretty quickly.”
“Well, it’s better than sitting around the house watching Bobby try to figure out how Santa fits down the chimney.”
Peter looked up at the roof. “Your brother’s theories are pretty amusing. Imagine thinking that Santa stretches himself out until he’s thin enough to slide down the flue.”
Trixie smiled. “He makes it sound as if Santa was like a giant “Gumby” character.”
They both laughed at Bobby’s theory. Deciding that the car was warm enough, Peter backed down the driveway and then drove to the bank where he worked. Trixie waited while her father disabled the alarm then they entered the building.
“You need my help with this box?” asked Trixie in disbelief when she saw a single, gaily decorated box standing by the center kiosk in the bank’s lobby. “This is barely full.”
“Ah, yes. But I do need your help with these.” Peter opened a door to a storage closet and showed Trixie the numerous boxes that were overflowing with toys.
“Gleeps, Daddy! There are a ton of toys here. These will be quite an addition to the firefighter’s toy drive.”
“Yes, it will. Let’s gather all the toys and then we’ll be set.”
Peter and Trixie worked together, packing the toys as efficiently as they could. When they were done, they had filled eight large boxes. Using a small cart, they quickly moved the boxes outside and loaded them into the car After resetting the alarm, Trixie and her father drove to the firehouse.
“Hello,” called out Peter as he and Trixie entered the brick structure through the back door.
“Hi there, Peter,” called out the fire chief, rubbing his hands together. ”I hope you have something for me.”
“I do. Take a look,” answered Peter. He pointed to his car that was parked outside. “The bank customers were very generous this year.”
“Wow!” said the Chief, peering into the car’s windows at the bulging boxes inside. “That’s great. I’ll grab some men and we’ll get those unloaded,”
Shouting to his staff, the Chief got two firefighters to help unload the car. Trixie and Peter joined them and within a few minutes the boxes of toys were standing in the community room of the firehouse.
“I see you brought your own elf this year, Peter,” joked the Chief, winking at Trixie.
Peter laughed. “Well, she was just hanging around the house. Trixie, you know the Chief.”
Trixie nodded and smiled as the Chief introduced the other firefighters.
“Do you want to help us sort out the toys?” the Chief asked Trixie.
“Sure.”
Trixie shrugged out of her coat and shoved the hat into the sleeves while two firefighters set up several large folding tables. The Chief opened the door to another room and began pulling out additional boxes of toys that had been collected throughout the Sleepyside community. The firefighters murmured their approval as they emptied the boxes and stacked the toys on the tables.
“How do you distribute all these toys?” asked Trixie, carefully balancing a box of Legos atop a pile in front of her.
“You do know that Santa will be arriving in town tomorrow at noon, don’t you?” asked the fire chief.
“Santa?” puzzled Trixie. “Oh, that’s right. Santa rides around town on the firetruck and hands out candy. Hmmm...I’d forgotten about that.”
The Chief laughed. “I suppose living out on Glen Road keeps you out of the action in town. Anyway, after the Santa parade, we have a party in this room and let the kids visit with Santa. Santa always gives each child a toy, but we also let the parents select gifts from the donations.”
“I can’t believe I’ve missed all this,” exclaimed Trixie, looking around at the decorated room. “The kids must be so excited to see Santa driving down their street. Bobby would be ecstatic if he saw Santa on Glen Road.”
“Hey, why don’t you join us tomorrow? We can always use help handing out the candy. You’d be a great addition to the firefighters and police officers who walk in the parade,” suggested the Chief.
“Oh, Daddy, can I?”
Peter nodded. “As long as you wear your hat,” he winked.
“Don’t worry about a hat, Peter. After we give Trixie one of our fancy hats, she’ll look like one of Santa’s elves.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” said Peter, turning to his daughter.
“Of course, we fully expect you to be in attendance also,” the Chief said to Peter.
“I can’t think of a better place to be.”
When the toy sorting was done, the Chief motioned them toward the kitchen area.
“Stay for some hot, mulled cider,” he offered. “It’s the least we can do for you.”
Trixie looked at her Dad and was pleased to see him accept the offer. She grabbed a chair at the table and settled herself, sighing deeply.
“What?” asked Peter.
“I can’t believe all the toys that are donated and the way Santa drives through town. But I barely remember it. Why didn’t we go to the parade?”
“We took you when you were little, but you and Mart wanted to run out into the street and climb up onto the firetruck Your mother and I finally decided that the whole thing was a little too stressful.”
Trixie nodded. “I can see how that would be a lot for you and Moms.”
Peter shook his head. “Not for your mother and I. For Brian.”
Trixie sat silent for a moment, then burst out laughing. “And then Bobby came along so you definitely had to drop it or Brian might have had a nervous breakdown.”
“That’s what we were thinking.”
Peter and Trixie lifted their mugs of cider in acknowledgment of Brian’s trials of being the oldest Belden, then sipped the hot, spiced drink.
“Hey, Mr. Belden.” Peter and Trixie looked up into Officer Spider Webster’s smiling face. “What are you two doing here?
“We brought over the toys from the bank for the firefighter’s toy drive,” answered Peter.
Spider looked at the tables piled high with gifts. “Looks like a good year. That should make a lot of kids happy on Christmas morning.” Spider winked at Trixie. “I see you brought an elf with you. She doesn’t happen to have any pots or pans with her, does she?”
Trixie rolled her eyes while Peter and Spider laughed at the memory of the incident that involved Trixie flagging down the police officer by throwing kitchen utensils out the window of a trailer.
Spider stopped laughing and turned when he heard the whining voice of his younger brother, Tad.
“Come on, Spider. You’re not going to spend all day here, are you? I wanna go watch some football.”.
“We’ll leave in a minute. You know Trixie Belden, don’t you?”
Tad walked over to the table. “Oh, yeh. Hey, Belden, where’s the rest of your bevy?”
Trixie frowned at Tad, but said nothing. She watched as Tad walked over to the kitchen counter and helped himself to a mug of the fragrant cider. She groaned inwardly when Tad pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Trixie pointed to the tables. “My Dad and I brought over a bunch of toys for the firefighter’s toy drive.”
Tad looked at the tables and smirked. “Those are toys for babies. Where are the real toys?”
Trixie stared at him. “The real toys?”
“You know, the sports gear and video games?”
Trixie shrugged. “Maybe that’s what you’re supposed to donate.”
Tad’s grey eyes met Trixie’s blue ones for a minute. Then he shook his head. “Nope. I don’t have that kind of money. Maybe you should donate them.”
“Don’t look at me. I can barely afford a candy bar.”
“Yeh, right! With all your rich friends?”
Trixie bristled. Before she could answer, Spider walked up behind them and clasped a hand on Tad’s shoulder.
“Come on, Tad. Let’s get going. I’ve got to be here tomorrow for the Santa parade and party.”
“See ya, Belden.” Tad pushed back his chair and followed his brother, leaving his half-full mug of cider sitting on the table.
“What do you think, Trixie? Are you ready to go?” asked Peter.
Trixie drained her cup. “Yes. This was fun.”
Trixie and Peter put on their coats “Bye, Chief,” they called. “See you tomorrow.”
Trixie pulled her hat over her ears and waited while her dad unlocked the car. “Brrr…”she said, rubbing her hands together.
“I hope your mom has something nice and hot for dinner,” said Peter.
“Me too. Maybe she made a big pot of chilli.” A yawn escaped Trixie’s mouth as she settled back in the car. She was drifting off to sleep as her father pulled into the garage at Crabapple Farm.
“Wake up, Princess,” he whispered.
“Huh? Are we home already?” Trixie asked, rubbing her eyes.
“Yes, we are. Come on. Let’s get you into the house.”
Helping Trixie out of the car, Peter led her across the recently shoveled driveway and into the warm kitchen.
“We’re back,” he yelled, shutting the door against the cold air.
“Hey, look, Daddy,” yelled Bobby. “I’m holping Moms make cookies and then we’re gonna give some to Santa.”
Moms watched as Trixie hung up her coat. “Are you okay, dear?” she asked.
Trixie nodded sleepily. “I think I’ll go take a quick nap, if that’s okay with you, Moms.”
“Go ahead. Do you want anything before you go upstairs?”
Trixie shook her head. “No. I’m okay. We had some delicious cider at the firestation.”
Peter and Helen watched Trixie leave the kitchen.
“Did she have a good time,” asked Helen, rolling out the cookie dough.
“I think she did. She’s all excited to help with the Santa parade through town tomorrow.”
“Do you think she should do that, with her having that ear infection?”
“Yes. I definitely think she should. Besides, a solid night’s sleep will do her a world of good,” answered Peter. “So, what’s for dinner?”
“How does a bowl of oyster stew sound?”
“Delicious.” Peter kissed Helen. “I’ll take Bobby outside for a while if you’re done with him.”
“Oh, I was done with him shortly after we got started,” murmured Moms. “Bobby, how would you like to go play with your Dad,” she called out.
Moms breathed a sigh of relief when Bobby excitedly agreed to go out and play.
A short time later, Peter and Bobby were throwing snowballs at each other, with Bobby yelling more than throwing. Upstairs in her room, Trixie heard the commotion and got up from her bed to see what was going on. Pressing her nose against the cold window pane, Trixie watched the two playing in the snow while wondering what the rest of the Bobwhites were doing.
“I bet they’re riding across the desert or swimming or something else that’s a lot of fun. And I’m stuck here alone. I thought this Christmas was going to be great, with all of us celebrating together.”
Trixie watched, tears pooling in her eyes, as her father and brother begin making the base for a snowman. “It looks like everybody's having fun except me.” Sighing, she turned away from the window and snuggled down on her bed where she finally drifted off to sleep and dreamed of vibrant sunsets, desert picnics and horse rides.
**********
The next morning, Trixie reluctantly left the warmth of her bed, dressed, then went down the stairs and into the kitchen,
“Morning, dear,” chirped Moms.
“Morning,” answered Trixie grumpily.
“How do you feel?” asked Moms as she ran a hand over Trixie’s recently brushed curls.
Trixie shrugged.
“Does your ear hurt?”
Trixie shook her head, then dropped her cheek onto her hand.
Moms pulled out a chair and sat down “Talk to me, Trixie.”
Sighing, Trixie threw herself back in her chair. “Oh, Moms,” she cried, “I know everybody is having fun but me. Last night I dreamed I was in Arizona. I could even hear the laughter as the Bobwhites rode horses across the desert. But then I woke up and realized what I heard was Bobby playing in his room. Even he’s having fun.” Trixie’s eyes filled with tears of frustration.
Moms gently pulled up Trixie’s chin. “I’m sorry you got sick and couldn’t go to Arizona. But you’re here now and you’ll just have to make the best of it. I thought you had a good time yesterday with your father.”
“I did.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll have even more fun with the Santa parade in town.” Moms got up to get Trixie’s breakfast.
“Here you go.” She placed a plate of waffles and bacon in front of her daughter. “And here’s a special cup of chai tea.”
Thanking her, Trixie slowly took a bite of the waffle, then began eating in earnest. She was scraping the plate clean when her father came into the kitchen.
“You ready for your day, Trixie?” he asked.
“Yes. When do you think we should leave?”
“Around eleven.” Peter sat down at the table, opened the newspaper and began to read. He smiled at Helen when she placed a plate of hot waffles in front of him and inhaled appreciatively. “Smells delicious,” he said as he picked up his fork.
Trixie drained her cup of tea, licking her lips when she was done. “No need to wash these, Moms,” she said as she carried her dishes to the sink. “I’ll just put them back in the cupboard.”
“Thanks, Trixie,” said Moms dryly, smiling as Trixie left the kitchen. “At least she’s not sulking anymore.”
“She’ll be fine,” said Peter. “She enjoyed helping with the toys yesterday.”
Helen nodded. “She’s feeling pretty left out this morning.”
“That’ll change.” Peter and Helen sat at the big table, enjoying the sun that filtered through the windows and brightened the room.
The kitchen clock was chiming when Trixie charged into the kitchen.
“Come on, Daddy, let’s go,” she said.
Trixie paused long enough to button her coat while Peter stood and went in search of his own warm jacket.
“We’re off,” said Peter, kissing Helen. Then he and Trixie went out into the glistening, cold snow.
A short time later, Trixie, wearing a Santa hat and a colorful pinny over her coat, stood fidgeting next to the fire truck and watched as Santa climbed up and sat in a chair that had been placed on the top of the vehicle. The remaining firefighters, dressed in warm clothing, laughed and joked as they plopped Santa hats on their own heads. With the siren blaring, the fire truck slowly eased out of the firehouse and began its journey through the town’s streets. Trixie watched in amazement as kids of all ages rushed out of their homes in response to the noise, eager to see Santa and to get some candy. LIttle kids jumped up and down while bigger kids ran alongside the firefighters, all happy to see the big red firetruck with Santa perched on top. Trixie handed out candy canes and small boxes of chocolate, catching the excitement that filled the air. She found herself wishing “Merry Christmas” to every person she encountered. Before she knew it, the parade was winding down and the fire truck was heading back to the station and the festivities there.
Trixie joined the other firefighters as they entered the community room where the stage was set for Santa to visit with the kids. They opened up the doors and the young citizens of Sleepyside poured in, eager to share their Christmas wish-lists with Santa. Trixie assumed the role of Santa’s assistant, helping the smaller kids stay patient and chatting with the older ones. She smiled when she heard a little girl, after pointing out Trixie, tell her mother that Santa had brought one of his elves.
“Psst,” whispered Spider, who was sitting behind Santa and running back and forth when additional toys needed to be added to Santa’s bag.
“What?” asked Trixie.
“Can you take over here for a minute? I need to grab some more juice for the kids.”
“Sure.” Trixie moved closer and crouched down on the floor, listening to the children and making sure an appropriate toy was available for Santa to give the child sitting on his lap. Feeling a tug on her sweatshirt, she looked down and saw a small boy.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
The little boy nodded. “You’re an elf, right?”
Trixie was unsure how to answer that question, so instead she asked, “What do you need”
The little boy held up a toy fire truck.
“Is there something wrong with that?”
The little boy nodded again, his chin quivering.
“What’s wrong?” worried Trixie, thinking the toy might be broken. She knelt down and looked into the small tot’s face.
“I like the fire truck, but I want a police car cuz I’m gonna be a police officer when I grow up.”
Trixie smiled. “Okay,” she whispered. “You stay here and I’ll see what I can do.”
After making sure that Santa’s bag was full, Trixie ran back to the gift supply and quickly found a police car that had two little police figures inside.
Returning to the little boy, she thrust the car into his hands. “Here. Santa said this is the right toy for you.”
The child’s eyes widened and big smile spread across his face. “Thanks. Thanks a lot. You’re the best elf.” Holding the police car tightly in his hand, the little boy reached out and hugged Trixie, then turned and ran to his mother.
Trixie watched, a grin on her young face, happy to be a part of the Christmas magic.
The afternoon passed quickly. Peeking at the toy supply later, Trixie was surprised to see that the piles had dwindled. When the last visitor had left the fire station, several firefighters grabbed trash bags and began cleaning up the community room. Trixie joined them, enjoying the fun and camaraderie that had developed between herself and the firefighters.
“Did you have a good afternoon?” asked the Chief.
“Gleeps. It was great,” beamed Trixie. “It was so much fun to see all the little kids and their excitement at visiting with Santa.”
The Chief nodded. “I think this parade is the best perk of the job.”
“I can’t imagine anything better,” agreed Trixie, heaving a bag of trash toward the door.
Laughing and joking, the group quickly quickly cleaned up the room. After carefully storing the Santa hats, the firemen were ready to return to duty at the station.
“Thanks for helping us, Trixie,” said the Chief. “I hope we can count on you next year.”
“Absolutely!”
“The kids loved having you here. They thought you were a real elf,” smiled the Chief. “Maybe next year we’ll get you a full costume.”
“Just as long as you include me,” said Trixie. “I’ll be happy to be the elf.”
Peter and the Chief shook hands, then Trixie and her Dad left. As Peter opened the door, Trixie spun around and looked at the room that was now empty and dark.
“What do you think, Princess?” asked Peter.
“I think this was a lot of fun and I’m glad I got to be a part of it. Thanks, Dad.” She looked up at him. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”
Peter laughed. “Me too. Who knew handing out candy and gifts could make you so hungry.”
After a brief discussion, the two decided that milkshakes from Wimpy’s were just what they needed. The popular diner was warm and bustling, with many townspeople stopping in after a busy afternoon. Trixie smiled at many of the customers, remembering them from the parade route earlier that day. When they gave their order, Peter added a cheeseburger and fries.
Shrugging, he looked at Trixie and winked. “We’ll split it so it won’t ruin our dinner.”
The two continued to chat until their food was brought to their table.
“What will happen to the rest of the toys,” asked Trixie as she dipped a hot french fry into ketchup.
“Believe it or not, the firefighters will continue to accept donations all the way through Christmas Eve as the need is always there. Whatever toys are left will be kept in storage for next year.”
Trixie sipped her milkshake thoughtfully. “You know, I was really bummed this morning when I thought about Arizona. But if I had been there, then I would have missed everything here. And today was definitely something to experience.”
“That’s my girl,” smiled Peter approvingly.
“What do you think they’re doing?” Trixie placed her milkshake on the table.
“Who?” asked Peter.
“Honey. Jim. Brian. Mart. Diana.”
Peter shook his head. “I have no idea. But I think we should enjoy what we have here.”
“You’re right.” Trixie smiled at her father.
The rest of the time was spent in pleasant, holiday exchanges among Trixie, her father and the other customers in the diner. Finally the two left, with Trixie making sure she had her hat pulled down over her ears against the cold December afternoon. As their car rolled down Glen Road, the two Belden's sang along with the Christmas carols that played from the car radio.
“Wait till I tell Moms about our day,” Trixie said as her father parked the car in the garage.
“She’ll love hearing about it.” Peter clasped Trixie’s hand as the two headed toward the back door of Crabapple Farm.
“Hello,” shouted Peter as he and Trixie entered the kitchen. “Anybody looking for a couple of tired elves?”
“We’re in here,” called Moms from the family room.
Trixie and her father hung up their coats, then headed toward the family room. As they entered the room, Trixie stopped abruptly, causing Peter to run into her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, a shocked look on her face. She turned to her mother while pointing to the group of Bobwhites that were seated around the room. “What are they doing here?”
“Oh, Trixie,” cried Honey. “The trip got cancelled.” She ran across the room and grabbed her friend in a big hug.
“Gleeps!” gasped Trixie. “Why? How? What happened?”
“Sit down and we’ll explain it to you,” said Jim, making room for Trixie on the couch.
“Here, dear. Have some hot chocolate.” Moms handed Trixie a steaming mug, then sat back in her chair to listen to the Bobwhites’ story.
“I’m waiting,” said Trixie impatiently.
“Okay. So, we flew out there yesterday morning and we had the most adorable flight attendant. Her name was Barbara, but she called herself ‘Babs’,” began Honey.
“Honey, why are you back here? I don’t think it was because of the flight attendant,” interrupted Trixie.
Honey blushed slightly.” Sorry, Trixie.”
Trixie shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. That was rude of me. Go on with your story.”
Honey smiled at her friend. “Anyway, when we got to Tucson, we learned that the ranch’s hired help had disappeared the night before.”
“Disappeared?” Trixie’s eyes were wide. “Like an alien abduction?”
Brian spoke. “Why don’t I talk, Honey?” He turned to his sister. “The night before we arrived, all the Orlandos, that’s the name of the family that works for Mr. Wilson, left suddenly.”
“Oh,” breathed Trixie. “All of them?”
“Except the cook.”
“The cook?”
“Yes,” interrupted Jim. “The cook is only related to the family through marriage.”
“Okay,” said Trixie slowly. “So they all disappeared, I mean, left suddenly. But why?”
“They only told Mr. Wilson that it was some sort of family emergency.”
“Gleeps!” said Trixie. “What kind of emergency?”
JIm shrugged. “Nobody seems to know.”
“Nobody knows?” Trixie stared at the Bobwhites. “Then what happened?”
“Well, Mr. Wilson, or Uncle Monty as he likes to be called, was left with a ranch full of guests but nobody to help. So he had to send them all away and refund their money. We got to spend one night there, then Mr. Lynch put us on a flight back to Sleepyside this morning,” answered Brian.
“He had to send away all his guests?” asked Trixie. “That couldn’t have been a good thing.”
“No, dear sibling, it wasn’t,” answered Mart. “But what other option exists when you have no employees? Uncle Monty was simply up the proverbial run without an appropriate blade.”
“Huh?’ Trixie stared at her brother blankly.
“Up a creek without a paddle.” Brian frowned at his brother. “Anyway, Mr. Lynch and Mr. Wilson both thought it would be a good idea if we all just came back home.”
“Oh no,” cried Trixie. “What about the other guests? How did they take the news?”
Honey shrugged. “They couldn’t have been happy. We didn’t see all of them but the ones we did see were certainly upset.”
“What do you think they’ll do?” asked Trixie, trying to imagine the guests’ predicament.
Honey tucked her hair behind her ears. “I don’t know. There was a real cowboy names Tenson or Tenny, or something like that. He’ll probably just find another ranch to work on. There was another nice man, a Mr. Wellington. He was waiting for his kids to join him, but I guess he’ll be joining them instead. Then there was this horrible woman, Mrs. Sherman. She didn’t seem very nice at all.” Honey paused.
“And ‘Calamity Jane’,” added Mart. “Another young female who certainly didn’t seem to possess much Christmas spirit.”
“They also had a wing of patients, you know people who spend time out west during the winter,” explained Brian. “I think they were going to stay because they had their own staff of nurses.”
Trixie listened as each Bobwhite spoke, her head snapping back and forth.
“I’m confused about something,” she said, scratching her head.
“What, dearest yet much younger sibling?” demanded Mart, setting down his empty cup.
Trixie looked around at her friends. “Why didn’t you guys just offer to help?”
The Bobwhites stared at her in stunned silence.
“And what, pray tell, could we mere guests do?” asked Mart.
Trixie shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe you could have helped with the housekeeping, assisted in the dining room, or entertained the guests. I know if I had been there, I would have done anything to stay there.”
Mart snorted. “Maybe it’s a good thing you weren’t there. Who’d want to spend their Arizona respite toiling away in order to give others a memorable time?”
Trixie stared at her brother. “Maybe if you had, you’d be there instead of here.”
Mart shook his head in disgust. “Hey,” he said abruptly. “I thought you were sick.”
“I have an ear infection. It’s no big deal.”
“Where were you when we got back?” asked Mart, curious as to the activities of his sister.
“You’ll never believe this,” said Trixie, bouncing in her chair, “ but I had the best day. Did you know there’s a Santa parade that winds through Sleepyside every year?”
Seeing the puzzled expressions on her friends’ faces, Trixie launched into a descriptive explanation of her involvement with the Sleepyside tradition during the past two days. When she was finished, she sat back in her chair and took a long sip of her cocoa.
“So you basically had a better weekend than we did,” said Mart grouchily.
“Maybe,” answered Trixie.
“And you’re now known as Sleepyside’s elf?”
Trixie stuck her tongue out at her brother. “No.”
Peter chuckled from where he sat on the arm of Moms’ chair. “Yes. She was the cutest elf Sleepyside has ever seen.”
Trixie snapped her head up to look at her father. “Dad!”
“Well, you were adorable. And the kids loved you.”
Trixie scowled. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“What do you want to talk about?” asked Jim.
“Anything else,” answered Trixie.
“I have a thought,” said Brian. “Maybe we should all hit the books since we’ll be back in school tomorrow.”
Trixie groaned. “Any thought but that. Thank you very much, Brian.”
“What can I say? Somebody had to voice what we were all thinking.”
Trixie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Speak for yourself, dear brother. I wasn’t thinking that at all.”
“Well, Trixie,” Moms spoke up, “your brother does have a point. You were going to be out of school until after the holidays. Since you’re not in Arizona, you’ll have to go to school tomorrow.”
“Oh, woe!” Trixie rested her head on the back of her chair. Suddenly, she sat up. “What about my ear infection, Moms?”
“Really, Trixie? After the weekend you’ve had, you’re going to try to play that card?”
Trixie grinned sheepishly. “I thought it was worth a try.”
“Come on, Bobwhites,” said Moms, standing up, “Let’s go in the kitchen and make some homemade pizza for dinner.”
“With talk like that, I’ll forgo any trip, any day!” exclaimed Mart, jumping up from his seat. He turned to his sister, “Come on, Keebler.”
Trixie stopped. “Keebler? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know, the Keebler elves. In fact, you might want to consider going to live in a tree, like the commercial says. Ah, yes. I can see it now. You could live in the Wheeler’s Preserve and I could take over your room. Plus, there’d be more food at dinner, and more tranquility in the house.”
Trixie stood in front of her brother, her hands planted on her hips. “Oh yeah? Need I remind you that you look like me. So, if I’m an elf, you must look like one too.”
“Tsk! Tsk!” Mart shook his finger at his sister. “I didn’t parade around Sleepyside dressed up as one.”
Trixie tossed back her hair, a wide smile on her face. “There’s always next year, dear brother. There’s always next year.”
Laughing, the entire group trooped into the kitchen, happy to be all together for the first Bobwhite Christmas.
