Part nine
The next two days passed slowly for Trixie. William dropped by the following day and gave her a few things to do, but they were far less interesting than the investigation had been. She visited Ivy a couple of times, once being recognised as herself and once as Edith. Neither conversation yielded anything new. She also chatted with Honey on one occasion and emailed several other Bob-Whites, including Jim. In between these things, however, she was on edge and impatient. She had the sense of unfinished business, both on this case and on a personal level. Little could be done in either situation and she chafed against the restrictions of her circumstances.
On Friday morning, Ivy returned home looking almost as frail and ill as she had when she left. She spent much of that first day at home resting and Trixie had little time or opportunity to speak to her. When they did interact, Trixie found her to be quiet and subdued. She determined that her questions would have to wait a few days. Just as had happened the weekend before, Trixie did not see much of Ivy. She occupied herself as best she could, but found herself missing her friends bitterly.
When Monday arrived, she was glad. At breakfast, Ivy seemed much more like she had before her illness. She called Trixie the correct name and chatted amiably about nothing in particular. When the meal was finished, Trixie went with her to her suite for a talk. After the carer left the room, Trixie pulled the ring out of her pocket and showed it to Ivy.
“I’m not sure if you remember, but a couple of days ago, you asked me to find something for you and keep it safe. I think this is what you wanted, but I’m not sure.”
Ivy looked puzzled. “I asked for this? I don’t remember … I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”
This was as much as Trixie had feared. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll put it away safely. You don’t need to worry about it.”
The old lady was not so easily swayed. “They sometimes put an inscription inside. Is there one there? I can’t quite read it …”
“Yes, there’s an inscription.” Seeing the expectant look she was receiving, Trixie knew that she could not avoid the conversation. She read out the inscription.
A frown settled on Ivy’s face. “Those are Rosemary’s initials. And that young man from church, the one who had that terrible argument with Mother. His manners!”
Trixie leaned forward. “Do you remember his name?”
“Oh, yes. He was one of the Sinclairs, and they were usually such polite people. His first name was Tom, I believe.”
“What ever happened to him?” she could not help but ask.
Ivy shrugged. “I don’t know. He left town, I think.”
Trixie resolved to look for him in the cemetery, but did not say so. She seemed to be becoming quite morbid, perhaps from the influence of Ivy’s late family.
“I don’t remember asking you for this,” Ivy resumed, staring at the ring. “I do remember finding it and guessing what it meant. Such a terrible thing. Rosemary should never have contracted a secret engagement like that. It’s quite shameful.”
Hearing her say this, Trixie felt torn. Her own interpretation of what was terrible in the situation was quite different from Ivy’s. She had instinctively known this, but to hear it aloud was somehow different.
“All of my sisters had shameful secrets,” Ivy continued, heedless of her horrified audience. “I know the terrible things that they did and the trouble they caused poor Mother – not that I was perfect, you understand, but their wrong-doings always seemed so much worse than mine. Perhaps that’s why I’m still here without them all. Since it’s been left up to me, I need to put things right, as much as I can. Some of those wrongs can never be made right, but where I can, I must do something to make things better.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Trixie told her. “I’m here to help you with that.”
“I know, dear, and I appreciate it.” Ivy took Trixie’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for helping.”
“I’ll do everything I can,” Trixie promised.
Ivy nodded. “Take the ring to William and ask him to try to find who it should belong to. I think it needs to go back to the Sinclair family, don’t you?”
Trixie nodded. “I think that would be a nice gesture.”
“Then we’ll try that,” the old lady answered. “Be a dear and fetch that other woman, will you? I think it’s time I had a rest.”
Trixie agreed and went to tell the carer that her services were required. She left the suite feeling a little more positive about the state of things. She had most of the questions in her mind answered and that was a great improvement.
Later that day, she received a phone call from William telling her that Lisa’s report was ready and that she had traced both sets of descendants. He offered to pick her up so that she could be there when it was delivered, an opportunity that she jumped at. His manner was a little more nervous than usual when he arrived, a circumstance that Trixie put down to the deductions she had shared with him days ago and the possibility they may be proved right.
They arrived at Lisa’s house and she showed them inside, to the same room as their previous visit. She wasted no time on preliminaries, but handed the report to William. He had seated himself next to Trixie and held the documents so that she could look on.
“You’ve traced both sets of descendants?” he asked.
Lisa nodded. “It was easy enough, once I established who both men really were. And the timing was lucky – I have a friend in California who’s been visiting archives for some research she’s doing and we traded a few hours’ in-person searching. Besides, it’s much easier to reconstruct someone else’s research than it is to start from scratch.”
“It’s all a bit confusing,” William murmured, frowning at the front page.
She smiled. “There’s a family tree in the file, if that makes it easier to understand.”
William turned to that page and gasped. He placed a finger on a name. “I had hoped that I was wrong and it wasn’t Sarah, but I guess this proves it. Here she is.”
“It doesn’t prove that she was the one obstructing the investigation,” Trixie argued. “It shows that my reasoning for why it was her is possible, but it doesn’t prove it.”
“I’ll have to ask her,” he answered. “If it is, how can I ever trust her there again? She’s interfered with things that were no concern of hers … things that should have been safe there, in the house.”
Trixie did not know what to say to that, so she said nothing, instead letting her eyes roam over the rest of the tree. She let out an exclamation of surprise.
“What is it?” William asked. “Is there another member of staff on this tree?”
Trixie shook her head. “No, but look! Here’s Emmeline! She was Calvin Ellis’s first wife. And just look at her date of death!”
“I’m afraid the significance of the date is escaping me,” William noted drily. “Maybe you could explain.”
Lisa jumped to her rescue. “It’s the same day that Silas E. Creeper absconded with Calvin Ellis’s money. In fact, she was killed in the act of stealing from her husband. She fell from the carriage that was carrying his money and goods away and was fatally injured. Silas left her for dead on the road, but it was actually several hours before she died.”
During this recitation, Trixie had gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “She thought he loved her, but he just abandoned her like that?”
Lisa shrugged. “Maybe he did love her. From the accounts I read – and people liked their news as gruesome as possible in those days – she was terribly injured. There was no chance of recovery and he probably thought she was already dead.”
“He and his mistress steal her husband’s money, but she is killed in the process. Then he takes off with the money and starts a new life somewhere else.” Trixie frowned in distaste at her own summary of events. “How do we know he didn’t push her?”
“We don’t,” Lisa answered. “Contemporary accounts suggest that he was horrified at what had happened, but also afraid of meeting justice if he stopped. It’s as good an explanation as any and, since all parties are now dead, as near to the truth as we’re likely to get. Don’t forget, too, that it was the best part of twenty years before he married again. Maybe he really was upset by it.”
Trixie shuddered at the thought of what had happened, then put it aside in favour of other considerations. “So, were there any children of the first marriage?”
Lisa shook her head. “No, I have very good evidence that even though they had been married for over ten years, no children were born to them. That means all of the descendants of Calvin Ellis are those from his second marriage, to Minnie Williams.”
“And one of them just happens to live here. That’s some coincidence,” Trixie commented.
“But not just that: there are some other names here that I recognised,” William put in. “Some of the descendants of Silas’s eldest daughter live here, too.”
As Trixie geared up to protest the unlikeliness of this happening by chance, Lisa added, “It’s probably not a coincidence at all. Calvin Ellis helped raise the two daughters that Silas left behind, so there could have been a strong familial link between them and his children with Minnie, even though they were really half-siblings. People do often settle near someone they know when they move to a new place and their descendants may stay near, even when they fall out of touch with the relatives who prompted the choice in the first place.”
Trixie frowned, trying to think this through. “That doesn’t explain why they chose here, does it? Silas’s daughters wouldn’t remember him; one didn’t ever know him. Why should they choose the same place?”
“I meant that the two family groups we’re talking about chose the same place, not the reason that they chose here in the first place. It’s hard to tell which group came first, or if they came together.” Lisa rifled through the papers to remind herself of some of the facts. “See, I can’t prove this, but I strongly suspect that the person that Myrtle recorded as being some kind of threat to the family was Calvin Ellis himself. He died in 1925 back in California, which fits very well with that hypothesis, but I have him placed in Hartford, where they lived at the time, at around the time that those events were happening. It got reported in the local paper that he was visiting his daughter Mrs. Butler.”
Trixie leaned forward to look at the tree and found Mrs. Butler. “She was really Silas’s daughter.”
Lisa smiled. “That’s right. He’d been absent since she was two, so it’s probably not surprising if she considered Calvin her father and not Silas.” Her eyes narrowed. “Now, I think that is the big coincidence. The Butlers and Ellises moved to the same town as the Everett-Coopers. It makes me wonder which set moved first and whether the Everett-Coopers were followed here, or if Cornelia just made a very bad choice.”
“From what I know of Cornelia, it could have been either.” Trixie shook her head at the thought of the woman. “I didn’t know that I could dislike someone so much, who has been dead since long before I was born.”
Lisa nodded. “I’ve had that experience before. Sometimes in my research I come across someone who really rubs me the wrong way. I usually try to see the good aspects of their personalities.”
“I’m not sure that Cornelia had any good aspects.” Trixie scowled. “She was a monster.”
“She was a strong woman, in a world that had more respect for men.” Lisa began to tick off points on her fingers. “She supported and cared for her family in her widowhood and took good financial care of them, too. She did do some horrible things, but most of the time they appear to have been motivated by a desire to protect her family.”
“She pr–” Trixie began, then stopped with a gasp, having realised just in time that William didn’t know the thing she was about to say – that Cornelia had protected Silas by murdering him. “Never mind.”
William seemed to understand what had just happened and turned to Lisa. “I asked Trixie not to disclose certain things that she found in the house. I don’t need my mind disturbed by the more personal aspects of the family’s long-ago crimes.”
Lisa nodded. “I take it, Trixie, that you found out something truly terrible that Cornelia did. I’m not saying she was an angel in white and that we’ve misunderstood her – she was a domineering, selfish and opinionated woman, from what I can make out – and Silas was no angel, either. He was a thief and a bigamist. But Cornelia tried to protect the family from the consequences of his actions. I’m not saying the things she did were right, or even justifiable, only that she might have had higher motives.”
“I think she did almost everything out of a desire to always get her own way,” Trixie answered.
William chuckled. “You’re probably right, there, Trixie. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who disliked being thwarted more than Mrs. Everett-Cooper did.”
“She saw the family as an extension of herself,” Lisa theorised, “and did all she could to keep it safe and respectable and whatever else she thought was important.”
“I think that sums it up well,” William answered. “Thank you so much for your efforts, Lisa. This has been extremely helpful.”
“It was very interesting work,” she answered, as they rose to leave. “Thank you for choosing me to do the research.”
As the conversation continued without her, Trixie – who had been left in possession of the report – flicked through to the back pages and was staring at the extensive list of references that Lisa had included. Her eyes widened as she turned over the page to see even more.
“You looked at all of these places to find out this information?” Trixie could not help but blurt out.
Lisa smiled and nodded. “It isn’t as daunting as it looks and you do need to match lots of different sources of information to be sure that you have the right ones. Not everything that is written down is correct, you know.”
“I do know that,” Trixie answered, feeling chastised even though Lisa’s tone had held nothing of the kind. “I just …”
“Like the kind of investigation where there aren’t hundreds of lists to read through?” Lisa smiled. “I get that, but maybe you shouldn’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
Trixie smiled in return. “For the moment, I think I’ll just take your word for it.”
They parted ways and William took her back to the house. As they arrived, he began to look unwell.
“Are you okay?” Trixie asked him, as they pulled up outside the house.
He shrugged. “I’m not looking forward to the confrontation. It has to be done, and as soon as possible, but … I always trusted Sarah. She was so good with Ivy. I don’t want to have to dismiss her, or anything of that kind.”
She patted his arm. “Just talk to her. Maybe we’re wrong. Maybe it wasn’t her.” She glanced at her watch and saw that it was almost time for the evening meal. “How about if I go and sit with Ivy and that way you won’t have to worry about her while you’re talking to Sarah.”
He shook his head. “I want you to help me with Sarah. I’ll wait until Elaine arrives and I’ll do it then.”
With that in mind, he followed Trixie into the house and spoke briefly to Sarah, letting her know that he had something to discuss with her after her work was finished, but being careful to keep his tone light so as not to alarm her. She seemed slightly suspicious, but showed no sign of doing anything rash. The meal went smoothly, with Ivy saying little and eating less. When she was safely in her suite with Elaine in attendance, Sarah, William and Trixie took seats in the staff rest area. Sarah gave William an expectant look, though she glanced in confusion at Trixie.
“I received the report from the research I commissioned today,” he explained, in a light tone of voice. “There was an interesting point in it, as it happens, and it concerns you, Sarah. Did you know that you’re distantly related to Ivy?”
At once, a guarded expression sprang to Sarah’s face. “I had heard something like that before.”
“Such an interesting coincidence,” he continued. There was now a visible nervousness beneath his cheerful demeanour. “I wouldn’t have thought it possible, especially since it seems that all of the other descendants came from the branches of the family that were left behind in California.”
“I was born here, and so were my parents,” Sarah answered, not meeting his eyes.
“You know, it’s interesting that some documents have turned up here in the house. Trixie has been instrumental in finding them, which is part of the reason why I asked her to be here. I wonder if you had seen any of them, in the times that Ivy has asked you to look for things.” He smiled fondly. “She does ask that rather often, doesn’t she?”
“She does. I don’t usually pay attention to anything other than what I’ve been asked to find.” Sarah snapped out the words, her arms crossed over her chest. “It’s the best policy, I find.”
He sighed. “I just want to know whether you saw the papers. A genealogist’s report, in particular, and some letters and documents that pertained to Ivy’s father.”
The other woman jumped to her feet. “And what if I did?”
“Please, Sarah. I’m not accusing you of anything. I just need to know …” He trailed off, as she headed for the door.
“You didn’t want it, did you Sarah?” Trixie prompted, causing Sarah to stop short. “You knew about the legacy and you wanted to stop it.”
“Why should it be dragged up now?” Sarah demanded. “It’s all over and done with nearly a hundred years ago. The theft was in 1883, for crying out loud. It’s finished. It shouldn’t be dragged up now.”
“Ivy has no close family left, now,” Trixie reminded her. “She has no one to leave the family treasures to – no one who understands what any of them mean. And when she found that her life was based on lies … well, she wanted to try to make things right, as much as she could. Don’t you understand that?”
“Make things right? How can you make something right, when the man who was wronged has been dead for so long, along with anyone who even remembered him?”
William walked up to her. “You know how Ivy is; she lives in her own world, one where the past and the present are interchangeable. She is just doing the little she can to make up for the mistakes of those she loves and remembers.”
Sarah sighed. “I know. I still don’t want it to happen. There are far more recent wrongs in my family and stirring this up will only make them worse.”
He shook his head. “I’m very sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. If she had known before her stroke that you felt that way … but, now, it’s too late.”
“Too late.” Sarah murmured the terrible phrase, looking down at the floor. Her head shot up and she looked William in the eye, a hint of fear in her expression. “Have I lost my job?”
“I’m not sure,” he answered. “I don’t want to make you leave, but … you’ve caused both Ivy and myself a lot of worry by tampering with those documents, not to mention the expense. Ivy has been quite distressed by the mystery of who Calvin Ellis was and why she would ever want to leave something to his descendants.”
“I didn’t mean for that to happen. I just wanted it to stop.” Sarah’s voice was small and she once more addressed the floor.
“Still, that is what happened.” He sighed. “I’ll have to think about what we’re going to do about this. In the meantime, I still need someone to look after Ivy and you’ve always done that so well … How about if we talk again in the morning, just before you start?”
He went on to arrange some details and Trixie slipped away, leaving them to it. She returned to her room and checked her email, but could not concentrate on anything she read. Her thoughts swirled in circles, flitting between the different characters in this drama and the parts they had played. It seemed that there could be no happy ending.
The following morning, Ivy declined all requests to come to breakfast and instead stayed in bed. After she had eaten, Trixie went in to sit with her and see if she could do anything to make the old lady feel better. She found Ivy lying down, a plate of food set aside and barely touched.
“Edith, how lovely to see you,” Ivy greeted, sparing her a small smile. “It’s been so long.”
“How are you feeling, Ivy?” Trixie asked and took hold of the outstretched hand. “You didn’t eat your breakfast.”
Ivy waved the matter away. “I don’t feel like eating. I want you to get something for me.”
“Of course I will. What is it that you want.”
The old lady’s eyes closed for a moment. “Bring me the family portrait, please. The one that hangs on the wall. I want to see it, but I don’t feel up to going and getting it.”
Trixie nodded and went to the other room, returning a short time later with the framed photograph. She noticed that it was a little dusty along the top and that some had come off on her fingers, so she transferred the dust onto her clothes before handing it over.
“Ah, yes.” A soft smile settled onto Ivy’s face as she gazed at the long-ago group. “Thank you. Now, can you bring me my father’s watch? That’s all that I need.”
It only took a few moments for Trixie to find the watch and place it in Ivy’s other hand. The old fingers rubbed its surface, then clutched it tight against her chest.
She murmured another thank you, then lapsed into silence and soon closed her eyes. The photograph came to rest across the old lady’s legs. When she was sure that Ivy was asleep, Trixie took the photograph and propped it up where it could be seen from Ivy’s bed, but left the watch where it was. She was just finishing this when Elaine popped her head in the room.
“Oh, Trixie, are you able to stay here for a little while? My time is up and I really need to run, but William is still talking with Sarah. I don’t think they’ll be long, but you never know.”
“That’s fine,” Trixie answered. “I’ll see you later.”
Elaine nodded and, thanking her, took her leave. Restless, Trixie puttered around the room, tidying a few things here and there, secure in the knowledge that Ivy was too deaf to hear her. The sound of her even breaths was calming and when the supply of small tasks was exhausted, Trixie sat down to wait for Sarah to come.
Time dragged. A glance at her watch showed Trixie that Sarah should have been there almost half an hour ago and she began to wonder if William was having a lot of trouble with her. She began looking for something else to do and fixed upon a book that she found. After four or five pages she abandoned it as not interesting enough and put it back where it came from. Deciding that Ivy would be fine by herself, she found a cleaning cloth and dusted the tops of all the other picture frames, looking in on the old lady every so often.
When this was done and still no Sarah had appeared, she went to the door that separated the suite from the rest of the house and listened for voices. She could hear William and Sarah arguing and, by the sound of things, there was no relief in sight.
With a frown on her face, she returned to Ivy’s bedroom and looked in on her once more. She was about to turn around and leave, but something about the old lady caught her attention. She wondered if it was her imagination, or if she was breathing less often and less deeply. Sitting next to her, Trixie held the old hand and watched.
Five minutes later, Trixie was certain that she was not imagining things, but not certain whether this just meant Ivy was more deeply asleep, or if something was wrong. She wondered if she should go and get William, or if it was better to stay with Ivy. She stroked her thumb across the papery skin and watched the thin chest rise and fall. She waited for the next breath, but it did not come.
“Ivy?” she called, in a loud voice.
Still, there was no breath and no movement. Trixie moved her hand to the old lady’s wrist, but could not find a pulse. At that moment, it occurred to her that she was sharing a room with a dead person and the thought frightened her. She stumbled back, dropping Ivy’s arm to the bed in the process and retreated from the room, intent on getting William so that he could handle this instead of her. With rapid steps, she went through the outer room and opened the door to the rest of the house. She could hear voices as she stepped through.
“Just today,” Sarah was saying. “You’ll have to find someone else for tomorrow.”
She pushed past and entered the suite, before Trixie had a chance to stop her.
“I shouldn’t have let her through,” she fretted. “I’m sorry. I was just coming to get you.”
“What’s wrong?” William asked, taking her arm. “Trixie, what is it?”
“I don’t think you’ll need to worry about getting someone for tomorrow,” she told him, just as a piercing shriek sounded from Ivy’s room.
William rushed off to see what was the matter, but Trixie walked towards the front door, in shock. Her only thought was that she needed to get out of the house. She opened the door and was startled to find someone on the other side, just about to press the bell. She looked up into a familiar face and threw her arms around the visitor, burying her face against his chest as the tears began to fall.
“Trixie! What’s wrong?” Jim asked, wrapping his arms around her.
She clung to him, crying too hard to answer. He did not try to question her further, but held her tight, rubbing her back now and then. In a few minutes, William found them there, in the same pose. Trixie felt ashamed of her loss of control, but could not seem to stop crying. She heard introductions being made, but did not participate in the conversation for a little while longer. She shuddered as she heard William explain that Ivy had just passed away.
“I’m sorry,” she eventually managed to say, though she was not sure to whom the apology was directed. “I had a shock.”
“You found her that way?” William asked gently.
Trixie stepped back from Jim and shook her head, at the same time trying to rub her eyes. “I kind of noticed she was breathing lower, so I sat with her and watched for a while to see if she was just more deeply asleep, but then she stopped altogether. I was holding her hand when she d-died. Before that, I kind of thought I should go and get you, but then I thought I should stay with her … just in case.”
“You did the right thing,” he answered, patting her arm. “I couldn’t have done anything to help and I’m glad you stayed with her until the end. She had a very long life and I don’t think there was any point in trying to prolong it. It was just her time.”
Trixie nodded, but made no other answer.
“Go and get a cup of coffee or something.” He turned to Jim. “Can you help her with that, please. It’s through here and around to the left. I think she can probably show you the way.”
“I’m fine now,” Trixie told him, annoyed with herself for her outburst.
“That’s beside the point,” he answered. “Go, both of you, and have a coffee or something. I have some things I need to do, but I’ll come and talk to you as soon as I can.”
Jim put a hand on Trixie’s shoulder, gently pushing her back into the house. She recovered herself enough to show him into the staff rest area and at his insistence sat while he made each of them a drink. He sat down next to her and sipped his tea, not speaking. Trixie felt the need to fill the silence and the words spilled out of her as she clutched her cup of coffee.
“I’ve never seen someone die before, or seen a dead body. I kept thinking Sarah was so silly for losing her nerve in tight situations and just look what I did – and I wasn’t in any danger. I practically ran away from poor Ivy. I didn’t think about it, I just went to get William, to hand over the problem to him, so that I could get away. And when I found him, I just left him to find his old friend, with hardly a word of warning. I should have broken it more gently or something, but I couldn’t think what to say.”
“It’s okay, Trix. You don’t need to justify your actions.” He was not looking at her, but across the room. “It’s hard, the first time you experience death that way.”
Her gaze, which had become rather unfocussed, swung around to his face. “Did you … I mean, have you …?”
“I was with my Dad when he died, yes. I don’t think I really understood it, then. When my mother … well, that’s the time that it really sank in.” A faint smile crossed his lips. “I think my display put yours to shame. You were the picture of calmness.”
“Except for bursting into tears,” she muttered. A moment later, she sighed. “I wish you’d gotten here a little earlier. I would have like for you to meet her.”
He nodded. “Maybe, but I had a pretty good picture of her from you, and from some of the other Bob-Whites, who’ve told me things they’ve heard from you. And I think I’d rather not hear you being addressed as Edith.”
She smiled. “Dan didn’t think I looked like an Edith, either. He thought it was pretty funny.”
Some of the light faded from Jim’s face. “I see.”
As he looked away, anger flared inside Trixie and she snapped, “I don’t think you do.”
“You think I haven’t noticed that you spend so much more time with him than with me?” Jim asked, suddenly angry. “You think I don’t mind that you hardly ever call or email and that three-quarters of the things I know about your life have come to me via Honey?”
“I’m sorry,” she interrupted, as he geared up another accusation. “I really am. But it’s not all my fault. And why shouldn’t I spend time with Dan? He lives ten minutes’ walk from me and you live four hours away by plane, plus waiting time.”
Jim shook his head, his anger deflated. “It’s not four hours flying time; it’s barely more than one.”
“It might as well be a million, for all it matters to me. I can’t afford the fares.” She looked at him sadly. “I’m sorry. I hate that things have worked out this way, but I can’t change it.”
“I guess you can’t, but I can.”
“I’m not asking …”
He nodded. “I know that you aren’t. I’m offering.”
“I couldn’t accept–”
“That’s not what I meant,” he broke in. “I came here to tell you …”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “I don’t even know why you’re here! I never even asked!”
“That’s understandable, you know.”
“I just threw myself at you and cried all over you and I never asked why you’re here, when you were supposed to be half-way across the country and, the way your trip was going, anything could have happened to you and I never even asked.”
“I don’t mind,” he tried again, but she was not finished.
“I was so relieved you were here, I didn’t even think about how unlikely that was, or what might have happened to you, or if you were even okay.”
“Do you think I might tell you about it, now?” he asked, in amusement. “Or do you have some more self-abuse to mete out?”
“I’m sorry,” she told him, meekly. “You can tell me now. Did something terrible happen to make you come back?”
He chuckled. “Actually, it was a small, insignificant thing. I was in a deli, waiting for a sandwich to be made and it was taking a long time, so I complained to the man behind the counter and he told me my wife had already picked it up.”
“Meaning, he’d carelessly given it to someone else?” she asked, frowning. “And that is what made you abandon your trip? A dispute over a sandwich?”
Jim shook his head. “He apologised and made me another one, so it’s not like I went hungry. It’s just that I was there alone. I’ve been alone for most of the last few years. I mean, I go to classes with people and I share a room with someone; I’m not completely alone. I just don’t have any real friends where I am. And the incident of the non-existent wife reminded me of how alone I really was.”
“Okay. I think I get that.” She frowned a little more. “So, you decided to end the trip early. That doesn’t explain why you’re here though, as opposed to Sleepyside, for example.”
“None of my friends are in Sleepyside,” he pointed out. “Not that I wasn’t planning to head that way after I saw you; it’s where I’m intending to spend the night, before I plan out my next move.”
Her face fell. “Which reminds me: I guess I’ll have to be planning out a next move, too. I can’t listen to Ivy any more.”
For a minute, he did not answer. “If you need to leave today, I can take you home. Or, if you’re staying tonight and leaving another day, I could come back and get you.”
She smiled. “Thanks. I may take you up on that. But you don’t need to come back for me; Moms will do it.”
“I thought I’d just been telling you that I’d come back for you,” he answered, showing a hint of exasperation. “Weren’t you listening?”
“You didn’t say it was specifically for me,” she argued.
Jim let out a laugh. “Who else would it be for? Honey, who’s in Paris? Diana or Brian, who aren’t planning on coming home this summer? Mart or Dan, who are at camp? Anyone else you can think of?”
Trixie felt her face tinge red. “Okay. I guess that makes sense. It doesn’t help when college starts again, though.”
“I was trying to tell you, only you kept interrupting.” He shook his head. “I put in my transfer papers yesterday. I’m applying to transfer to Columbia.”
She sat up straighter. “Columbia in New York City? Columbia which is not far from where I live? Columbia which is close enough to Sleepyside that you can go there for a day trip?”
“Yes, that Columbia. Do you know any others?” he asked, laughing. A moment later, the breath was knocked from him as Trixie threw her arms around him and squeezed.
“I don’t believe it! That’s the best news I’ve had all day!”
“Only all day?” he asked, his voice sounding strange so close to her ear. “I thought it should at least be the best news for a week.”
“It’s the best for a year. Two years. Three, maybe.” She pulled back and grinned at him. “It’ll be great to see you so much more often. I really miss having all the Bob-Whites around, but I’ve missed you in particular.”
His smile faltered. “You see Dan, don’t you?”
“And Mart.” She shrugged. “It’s not the same, though.”
He sighed. “I guess I need to make myself more plain. What I’m wanting to know is … if you … if he … if I …”
“Are you asking me if I’m available, Jim?”
He nodded. “Yes, I guess I am.”
A smile crept across her face and she nodded. “Are you wanting to ask me out?”
Instead of answering, he leaned forwards and kissed her. At the doorway of the room, William paused for a moment, then retreated, unnoticed.