There was no place Brian would rather be for Christmas than Crabapple Farm.  Christmas mornings at the farm were always warm and cozy and fun.  Sighing contentedly, Brian took in the idyllic, familiar scene in the living room around him, as he breathed in the delicious aromas coming from the kitchen where his mother was preparing breakfast.  Outside, snowflakes gently fell, while, inside, his father added another log to the fire, and Mart and Trixie squabbled good-naturedly.  Aunt Alicia, who was visiting this Christmas, sat cozily ensconced in a comfy chair, happily engrossed in her new novel from Helen.  

“Hey, Brian!  Come help me with my tape.  It won’t play!” six-year-old Bobby interrupted his older brother’s contented thoughts.  

Obediently, Brian went over to the Beldens’ stereo to assist Bobby, and soon softly playing carols had been replaced with Alvin, Simon, and Theodore blaring out “Feliz Navidad” in their teensy chipmunk voices.  The blond-headed little boy, already on a sugar high from the candy he had consumed out of his stocking, giggled in delight and began to sing and twirl about the wrapping paper and the new toys that littered the floor.  Reddy, the Beldens’ harum-scarum Irish setter, had been let in the house earlier to partake of the family’s celebration, and he soon joined the little boy in his wild dance about the room.  

Bells on the Christmas tree twinkled merrily, and the multi-colored strands of lights vibrated joyously from all the Christmas Day commotion. On his way out of the room to get another garbage bag for the wrapping paper and more wood for the fireplace, Peter Belden caught Bobby as the little boy wove dangerously close to the tree.  Although his dark eyes glinted mischievously, Peter managed to arrange his mouth in fairly stern lines when he righted his young son and removed Reddy from underneath the tree.  Reading his father correctly, Bobby decided to settle down with one of his new Transformers.  From previous experiences, the family knew that Helen was opposed to Christmas trees falling over on Christmas Day.

Brian carefully sidestepped his little brother and the numerous toys to make his way back over to the other, slightly calmer side of the room where he sat down on the couch.  Sitting on the floor, Mart and Trixie were warily regarding their last two unopened presents.  The tags on the gifts read “Love Aunt Alicia” in their aunt’s cheerful script.  The two had put off the inevitable for as long as possible, and, sighing in perfect unison like the almost-twins they were, they tore into the packages, carelessly brushing aside the cutesy little bows fashioned out of miniature candy canes.  Presents from Aunt Alicia were always gambles.

“Uh, Aunt Alicia…” Mart said a bit doubtfully as he pulled out a pink, knitted sweater from the box.  “I’m not sure pink’s my color.”

At the same moment, Trixie pushed away tissue paper to reveal a navy blue sweater nestled in the box in her lap and laughingly declared, “Oh, but I adore blue, Aunt Alicia!”

At their words, Brian looked up from neatly stacking his own gifts.  He compared the sweater in Trixie’s hands to the pink one in Mart’s and laughed, knowing that his sister probably did, indeed, prefer the simple, blue sweater to the frilly one Mart was holding. 

He winked and teased, “Pink is so ‘Miami Vice’, don’t you think, Trixie?”

While Mart raised a blond eyebrow at Brian, Trixie giggled and said, “Oh, of course!  That lace collar will be perfectly perfect with your jeans, Mart!”

 Mart shot them both a withering glare and tried to switch the sweaters.  Trixie, however, laughed and held the blue sweater behind her back. 

“No, Mart!  Aunt Alicia specifically gave me this sweater.  The tag had my name on it, after all!” 

The giggling and banter finally reached Aunt Alicia, who glanced up from her book with a dazed look in her eyes.  When she saw the dainty sweater in Mart’s hands and the larger and more masculine sweater in Trixie’s, she blushed becomingly.

“Oh my goodness gracious!  Did I get the tags mixed up?”

“Yes, but that’s okay, Aunt Alicia.  They figured it out,” Brian assured her before adding politely, “and thank you again for my sweater.  It sure will come in handy this winter.”

Aunt Alicia beamed at Brian, and then she and Brian both looked pointedly at Mart and Trixie.

Reluctantly, Trixie traded sweaters with Mart, who took the sweater from her and said gallantly, “My most humble gratitude, dear Aunt Alicia.  Indubitably, the garment will be quite welcome in our frigid climes.   Would that my sister acquire the ability to wield a needle so usefully.”

Brian hid a smile, as Trixie rolled her blue eyes and remarked, “I can needle you just fine, brother dear.   But thank you for the sweater, Aunt Alicia.  It’s… lovely.”

Aunt Alicia giggled merrily.  “Oh, how you children do run on!  You’ll notice, Mart, that Bobby’s sweater is just like yours and Brian’s.  I thought it would be so cute for the three of you boys to dress alike, and, Trixie, I chose that particular shade of pink to match your skin tone.  Pink is just so pretty on blondes!”

Fortunately, before they had a chance to respond, Helen came into the room carrying a tray of mugs filled with steaming hot chocolate and a basket of freshly-baked blueberry muffins.  Peter was right behind her with logs for the fire, and Brian jumped up to assist his father, while Mart moved quickly to take the tray from his mother.

“I thought you all might like some hot chocolate and muffins while the breakfast casserole finishes baking.  It’s just about done,” Helen told them, as she and Aunt Alicia passed around napkins and the mugs of hot chocolate.

“Can it get any better?  Christmas morning and blueberry muffins!”  Mart exclaimed around a mouthful of the aforementioned product.

 It would if you’d quit talking with your mouth full!” retorted Trixie.

The telephone rang suddenly, and Brian, who was standing nearest the extension in the kitchen, went to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Merry Christmas!” Honey Wheeler’s voice sang out cheerfully from the other end.

“Merry Christmas to you,” Brian answered, a smile upon his face.

“Good Morning, New York dwellers!  This is Johnny Ray for WSKJ at the top of the hour!  It’s a balmy 27 degrees on this Christmas Eve!  For all you men out there, this means you have one more day to finish your Christmas shopping.  Try not to buy her a vacuum cleaner this year, guys.  Will we have a white Christmas?  Stay tuned for the latest report from our weather girl, Amy Boehler.  In the meantime, for those of you traveling, here’s a little song to get you in the mood -”

I’ll be home for Christmas.
You can count on me…

Brian rolled over with a groan and slapped the off button on his clock radio.   The time was seven o’clock, and he needed to get out of bed because he still had some shopping to do before he left for Sleepyside.

Brian was going home for Christmas because his parents were counting on him. 

He squinted at the sunlight that poured into his bedroom of the on-campus apartment he shared with his roommate.   The morning reality was nothing like the dream from which the radio had awakened him.  More than just an obscure dream, the events that had played out in his head while he’d slept had been of an actual memory, and there was a part of him that wanted to burrow back under the covers and pretend for just a little while longer… to go back to when he had picked up the phone and heard her voice. 

“Merry Christmas.” 

Her voice was whisper-soft in his head, elusively taunting him like a delicate ghost. 

Ha, Brian thought to himself.  I’m Scrooge, and she’s my Ghost of Christmas Past. 

He laughed bitterly and brought an arm up to shield his eyes against the unrepentant glare of the sun.     

“I was just calling to wish you and your family a Merry Christmas,” she had said that morning.

Brian didn’t remember what he had said in response, something inane, he was sure, just to keep her talking, so he could keep listening to the lilt of her voice.  But, then, Trixie had come in, and, upon finding out that Honey was on the line, had demanded that Brian give her the phone, so she could tell Honey about her new Lucy Radcliffe book.  At the time, since his feelings for Honey were unspoken and only sometimes acknowledged to himself in the very quiet recesses of his mind, he had given his sister the phone without protest.  

Everything had been so much easier then.  Back when they were young and still believed their dreams would come true… back when promises were easily given and innocently believed… back when home was a haven and not a place to avoid.  Brian sighed heavily.  Remembering happier times didn’t change the present.

Or the more recent past. 

If he looked over at the other side of the bed, Brian knew he would see her there, so he stubbornly refused to look that way.  But it didn’t matter.  He didn’t have to look to remember the way her hair had shone like spun gold as it lay fanned across the pillow.  The memory was as emblazoned in his mind as any etched engraving on a memorial.  Honey slept here. 

He had thrown away the sheets and pillows on which she had lain and had purchased new ones.  But her presence lingered.  Her scent lingered.  At night, Brian was haunted with memories of the two of them together in his bed as they had been for that one night, the hesitant caresses that had become intimate and knowing, the sweetly tender kisses that had become passionately urgent.   He shivered, remembering the feel of her soft touch upon the harder planes of his body… of her beneath him and all around him. 

He groaned again in frustration and slammed clenched fists down on the bed.  He would not go there.   It had been one night, and, then, two months later, he had received the “Dear Brian” letter. 

And now it was over. 

At first, Kevin, his roommate, had prodded him to “Get back in the game, man” and had even tried to set Brian up on some blind dates because, according to Kevin, “Girls were a dime a dozen.”  Who wanted to be tied down anyway?  Initially, Brian had gone with Kevin and the other guys to various parties and clubs and had met some nice girls and some not-so-nice girls.  He had partied and flirted for a while, but, eventually, had stopped going with them.  He couldn’t give a girl what she wanted or deserved, so he had stopped pretending that he could.  Brian realized that someday he might meet a girl he could come to love, but he knew he would never love anyone the way he had loved Honey. 

Thankfully, there was always some sort of exam for which to study, so that’s what he did.  He studied.  Kevin claimed that he studied “more than any guy should ever study”.  Most nights, he didn’t even come to bed.  Instead, he read medical textbooks until the lines blurred into wavy lines, and he fell into an exhausted state of unconsciousness on the couch in the living room.  And Kevin, on his way out the door in the mornings, would wake him up with a “You’re making the rest of us look bad, man!”

Since the holiday break had begun, though, there really hadn’t been anything pressing with which to occupy his mind, and, last night, for whatever reason, Brian had found himself back in his bed.   And, this morning, he would push the dreams back into the furthest corners of his mind and get up, just like he’d been doing every morning, and pretend like he was fine.

As if trying to throw away the last vestiges of the dream, Brian tossed the covers back with a vengeance and rose from his bed.  Kevin had left Monday to go home for Christmas in Ohio, and the empty silence of the apartment was loud in the way that houses can be when only a lone occupant remains.  The creaking of the old pipes echoed hollowly in the bathroom when he turned on the shower.  While he waited for the water to get hot, Brian stripped out of his pajama bottoms and underwear and then stepped into the shower, where he scrubbed a bar of lathered soap over his body before quickly washing his hair.  Standing with his arms braced against the white tile and his dark head bent, he let the hot water beat down on his head and stream down his body in soapy rivulets, as he mentally prepared himself for the days ahead.

Going home for Christmas didn’t hold the same appeal that it once had.  It was funny how, even though Honey wasn’t a part of his home, their break-up had changed home for him forever.   He avoided going home now as much as possible, pleading long work hours and longer study sessions.  Going back home to Sleepyside meant coming face to face with the people, places, and things which reminded him of her.  Going home meant answering questions and having his family and friends watch him closely for some sign that he was a jilted, heartbroken shell of his former self that needed to be pitied.  However, when the holiday season had begun, there really hadn’t been any believable excuse to keep him in the city, when his mother had called and asked if he were coming home for Christmas.

From the beginning, Brian had let on to everyone back in Sleepyside that their parting had been a joint decision and that he and Honey were still friends.  No one knew what had really happened between them.  Their families were so close and so intertwined; he couldn’t tell them the truth.  Brian had resolutely decided that he wouldn’t be the cause of a rift between Trixie and Jim or his parents and the Wheelers, and he wouldn’t make his little sister choose between her brother and her best friend.  Although at first, Trixie was suspicious, his continual making light of his and Honey’s relationship had put an eventual end to even her misgivings.  After all, as he had asked jovially, had everyone really expected the Bob-Whites to pair up nicely and live happily ever after?  Some of them had to go their separate ways eventually.

So Brian kept pretending that he and Honey had really only ever been good friends and that together they had decided they were better off as just friends and not dating partners.  Admittedly, though, pretending was much easier in the city when he wasn’t facing everyone every day.  Honey played along nicely, too, though, since she was in Vermont now, pretending wasn’t hard for her at all.  Of course, pretending their “parting” had been mutual was probably more preferable to her than admitting the truth anyway.  Looking back, maybe it had been mutual. 

In the dark, early-morning hours of that night, they had both finally succumbed to sleep in each other’s arms.   When dawn had come, Brian had been the first to awaken, and he remembered lying in bed watching Honey sleep.  He could still recall the way her lashes had crested so perfectly upon her cheek, with her lips softly parted in a contented smile, and the way she had felt snuggled against his side with her golden head upon his chest. Brian had carefully traced his fingers along the fine curve of her neck, feeling the precious beat of her pulse and marveling at her perfect fragility.  As he had lain there, he had tried to pace his own heart to the beat of hers so that their hearts would beat together. 

He had watched as Honey had slowly come awake, and he had seen the awareness of where they were and what they had done creep into her hazel eyes.  Perhaps, in that morning-after reality, he had said something that had caused Honey to write the letter two months later.  But trying to figure it out had proven to be as useless as a child trying to understand the complexities of the human anatomy.  Analyzing and rehashing every word, every look, and every touch that had been exchanged between them had only served as a catalyst for sleepless nights.  The only conclusion to which he had come was that a man couldn’t walk away unscathed after having held and lost the love of a woman like Honey… that and the fact that there had to be some fatal flaw in his character to have let her slip away. 

Driving himself crazy with the thoughts that went nowhere and the questions that had no answers, he had finally retreated from himself and became totally immersed in his studies.  Like an anesthesiologist putting his patient to sleep, Brian had numbed himself to the pain.  The heartache was still there, but he had learned to ignore it, for the most part, until a memory invaded his dreams or something crossed his path that forced him to remember for a brief, unguarded moment.  While going home to Sleepyside might be like ripping a protective bandage off an open wound, Brian had resigned himself because he now knew, better than anyone, that nothing lasted forever.  Even trips home came to an end.  Life had a way of moving on, and he was trying very hard to get on with his.

The hot water had turned cool, so Brian turned off the shower and stepped out, drying off and then wrapping the towel around his waist.  While he shaved, he considered himself in the mirror.  The dark circles under his eyes were easily explained away due to all his late-night studying.  If he looked a little thinner, that made sense too.  Nobody had ever said that medical school was easy.

As Brian walked back into his bedroom, intent upon dressing, the telephone rang.  He didn’t want to answer, but his strong sense of reliability forced him to walk over to the phone on his nightstand anyway.  Brian would have hated if someone needed him and wasn’t able to reach him because he had ignored the phone.

“Hello?” he answered, picking up.

“Merry Christmas Eve, sweetheart!” Helen Belden exclaimed on the other end.

Brian smiled in relief.  “Merry Christmas Eve to you, too, Moms.”

“I was just calling to let you know that we’ve left the car for you at the train station like you wanted, but are you sure you don’t want us to pick you up?”

“No,” he replied.  “I’m sure.  I’ve got some things to do before I leave, so I don’t know exactly what time I’ll get in.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” his mother said.  “I just hate that there won’t be anyone there to meet you.”

“I’ll be fine, Moms, and I appreciate you and Dad leaving a car for me.”  He really didn’t want a huge welcome scene and was actually looking forward to being by himself while he drove into Sleepyside.

“It’s no trouble,” she assured him and then cautioned, “But I hope you try to leave a little early.  You know how crowded the station will be on Christmas Eve.  And they’re predicting more snow, too.”

Brian looked skeptically out the window at the blue sky.  “It’s all clear here, Moms.”

Helen laughed.  “I don’t think we’ll get a snowstorm or anything, but they are saying we might have a white Christmas.” 

“Bobby’ll like that,” Brian responded absent-mindedly and sat down on the bed, leaning against the headboard and stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Well, I think white Christmases are perfectly per…” Helen’s voice paused for a moment, as she realized what she had almost said, and then she continued self-consciously, “… lovely too, but I certainly don’t want you to get stuck and not be able to make it home.”

Brian knew that no matter how much he pretended, his mother was still worried about him and felt badly about his and Honey’s break-up.  He loved her for caring, but hated that she felt she had to censure herself around him. 

He took a deep breath and gently assured her,  “I wouldn’t miss a perfectly perfect white Christmas at home, Moms.”

He heard his mother’s swift intake of breath on the other end before she composed herself and said lightly, “Well, that’s a relief!  But I still do want you to be careful, you know.”

Brian chuckled.  “I’ll be careful.”

“I know you will, Brian,” she replied.

“So,…” Brian began.

“I know!  I know!” his mother interrupted, laughing.  “The sooner I let you go, the sooner you can leave!  But, before you go, I wanted to let you know that we’ve been invited to the Lynches’ this afternoon, but, if you prefer to just stay home, we can do that instead.”

He hesitated, running a hand through his dark hair.  Brian didn’t want to hurt his mother, but he also knew he didn’t want to partake in a big, festive gathering the minute he arrived home either.  “I’m sorry, Moms.  I’ll probably be later than that, so I’ll just meet everyone at church for the Christmas Eve service.”

“Brian,…” his mother started to say something, but stopped herself again and only remarked,  “That’s fine, Brian.  I can’t wait to see you at church then, sweetheart.” 

Helen Belden loved her children, she supported them, and she tried very hard not to pry in their adult lives.  “I love you, Brian,” she softly reminded him.

Brian closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall behind him.  How many times had he heard her say that over the years?  So very many, and her calm, reassuring words were as much of a balm to the man today as they had been to the little boy then.  “I love you too, Moms, and I’ll see you tonight.”

“Good-bye, sweetheart,” she said.

“Bye, Moms,” Brian replied and hung up the phone.  

*****

The cab driver let Brian out in the heart of the shopping district.  He thanked and paid the man and then joined the throngs of people that were hurrying and scurrying along the crowded sidewalks of New York City.  Businessmen and women, who were tying up loose ends so that they could go home and celebrate, briskly walked by children trying to get their last-minute requests heard by Santa Claus and shoppers rushing home with their treasures. 

The cold winter air felt good to Brian, and, gazing up at the tall buildings surrounding him, he reflected once again on how small the city made him feel.  He could lose himself within the city’s hustle and bustle and be insignificant.  No one knew him, and he wasn’t anyone’s son or older brother or friend or a stressed-out med student.  He was just Brian, and, sometimes, just being Brian felt good.   He would miss that feeling when he left New York.  Hopefully, he’d be able to lose himself in Seattle, too. 

Brian hadn’t yet told anyone of his plans to leave New York and transfer to another medical school.  However, he figured, if Honey could retreat to Mead’s Mountain, he could leave, too.  Until his dreams were just memories, and the memories no longer even haunted his dreams, he needed to get away and find some place new.

He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and walked down the sidewalk, searching for some store that would inspire him.  Brian had been so busy with exams and work that he hadn’t had a chance to buy any Christmas presents, and he didn’t have any ideas for what to get anyone on his list. 

Up ahead, he spied a small store advertising antiques and various other little curiosities.  Thinking that maybe he could find something for his mother, Brian decided to give it a try.  When he stepped into the shop, though, he almost wished he hadn’t.  It was one of those small, overheated stores with an overabundance of knickknacks and cloying scents of heavily perfumed candles and potpourri.  He was ready to walk back out until he spied a small collection of music boxes on a shelf by the window.  Moms might like a music box, he thought to himself.  Of course, Trixie wouldn’t appreciate having something else to dust, but maybe his mother would like a holiday-themed one that she could put up with her other Christmas decorations.   He picked up one in the shape of a Christmas tree and lifted the hinged top to hear the tune.  As the tiny, tinkling melody played, Brian found himself unwillingly transported back to Crabapple Farm’s cozy kitchen with the Bob-Whites on another Christmas Eve.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas.
Let your heart be light.
From now on, our troubles will be out of sight.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas.
Make the Yuletide gay,
From now on, our troubles will be miles away.

Here we are as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore.
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more.

All three of the girls had loved the song and had deemed it a theme song of sorts for the Bob-Whites, but Honey had cherished it within herself on a different level.  She, the poor-little-rich-girl heiress, had come to finally realize the love of friends and family with the Bob-Whites, and forming their club had been like a dream come true for her.  Honey had found herself within the circle of the Bob-Whites, and being together and the memories of those times together were important to her.  She was the one who had always saved the newspaper clippings highlighting their exploits and taken photos for their scrapbooks, recording their history in her elegant script.  Brian knew that Honey had counted on them being together throughout the years of their lives.  He could still see her standing in the kitchen, her eyes shining brightly with unshed tears, while the song played.

That had been the same Christmas he had given Honey the ring he had purchased in an antique shop quite like the one he was in now.  Later that night, Brian had asked her if he could walk her home, and, on the moon-lit path between their homes, he had been uncharacteristically shy and awkward when he had given her the little box containing the ring.  He reluctantly smiled, remembering the way she had sweetly reassured him.

“I know you’re...we’re...not ready for rings...and things, and I guess it’s kind of silly...but when I saw it...it looked like you...It reminded me of your eyes...I hope it fits...If you don’t like it...” Brian’s voice trailed off as Honey put a finger to his lips.

“I love it,” she assured him.  “I couldn’t love anything more.  Will you put it on me?” 

Brian’s face broke out in a wide grin.  With slightly trembling hands, he took the ring from the box, and, taking her hand in his, slid it smoothly onto her finger.

Honey held out her hand in the moonlight and smiled happily at the delicate antique.  “It’s beautiful,” she declared.

“You’re beautiful, Honey,” Brian responded huskily.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Honey!  You are so beautiful to me.  I can’t even tell you how . . . what you do to me.”  Brian knew he was stammering, but she had to know how he felt, how very special she had become to him.  “I look in your eyes, and I see your heart.  You look in my eyes, and you see my soul, Honey.”

“I love you, Brian.”

His heart felt like it was beating a mile a minute, and he laughed with the sheer breathless joy of the moment.  “I was supposed to say that first!”

“You did.  I saw it in your eyes, and I answered,” she told him simply.

In the light of the moon, Brian saw the honest, pure light in her eyes, and he breathed in as a heady rush of desire overtook him. “I love you,” he whispered and then drew her close in his arms and kissed her. 

It wasn’t their first kiss.  However, as his strong arms tightened about her, and he deepened the kiss with firm lips and felt the first soft, hesitant stroke of her tongue against his own, Brian knew all kisses before this kiss were forgotten.

Brian wondered what she had done with the ring.  He hadn’t asked for it back, and she hadn’t offered to give it back.  But, even if she had, Brian wouldn’t have taken it.  The ring was hers.  As the little song continued to play, he wondered where she was today and if she were thinking of him like he was of her.

Through the years we all will be together
If the Fates allow.
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough,
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

“Sir, can I help you?” A salesclerk in her mid-forties came up beside him, and the memory fled away as the last tones of the melody died out.

Shaking his head slightly, Brian shut the lid of the music box and carefully placed it back on the shelf.  “No, thank you.  I was just looking,” he told her.

“We have some more music boxes in the back if you can’t find what you’re looking for here.”  She gestured toward the rear of the store with a well-manicured hand.  “Is there a particular theme or song you want?”

Brian looked at her blankly for a moment before he started for the front door.  “No, no, thank you… I… uh… decided this isn’t what I was looking for after all,” he said before exiting the shop. 

Back out on the sidewalk, Brian decided in self-disgust that he was crazy for even imagining that Honey might be thinking of him today.  Of course, she wasn’t.  She had a completely new life now, and he wasn’t a part of it.  For better or worse, he had to get on with his life as well.

For the rest of the morning, he wandered in and out of various department stores, not really seeing anything and not buying anything either.  All the stores were advertising last-minute sales, but he wasn’t interested.  Brian sighed.  He was tired of the crowds and the music and all the decorations that had begun to look limp.  A popular bookstore chain that also happened to have a store in Sleepyside was down the street, and Brian decided that gift certificates for everyone would be the easiest and quickest way to be finished. 

Immediately upon opening the door of the store, Brian was assaulted with the same Christmas Muzak he’d been hearing everywhere all morning.   By this time, all the silver bells ringing and the halls being decked and the angels singing glory had combined in a cacophony that was giving him a headache.   Just inside the doorway was a display of UNICEF Christmas cards, and Brian laughed to himself as he suddenly recalled a particular discussion of Christmas music during a Bob-White meeting.

“This meeting will now come to order,” Trixie said from her position next to Jim at the head of the table in the clubhouse.  “For our first item of business, Honey has a list that – ”

“Wait a minute!” Mart interrupted.  “Methinks our first order of business should be why we’re listening to Christmas carols.” 

“Yeah, didn’t daylight savings time just end like two days ago?” Dan asked incredulously. 

Diana, who was bobbing her head and snapping her fingers in time to Brenda Lee’s “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree”, exclaimed, “I just adore listening to Christmas music!”

Honey smiled at the expressions on the boys’ faces and added, “And carols can be enjoyed year-round.”

“Does Moms know you swiped her tape, Trixie?” questioned Brian.

“If you’d let us explain – ” his sister began.

“We’re listening to Christmas carols, Trix, and it’s not even Thanksgiving!” Mart interrupted again in complaint.

“I guess it could be considered festive,” Jim offered, grinning at Trixie, who beamed back at him gratefully.  “It’s kind of nice to have background music.”

Mart snorted and rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, Jim, and I think I just saw a dinosaur run out the door, too.”

Trixie opened her mouth to retort, but, before she had a chance, Honey interjected tactfully, “There really is a perfectly perfect and reasonable explanation.”  

Dan raised a sardonic brow and teased, “Of course, there is.  You girls and reason are such close companions, after all.”

“I think,” Di said with a toss of her black hair, “that’s it been scientifically proven that listening to Christmas music can be ther… therape..”

“Therapeutic?” Mart suggested.

“Helpful,” Di replied instead and then finished, “So, the earlier we listen to it, the more helpful it will be!”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever read that study,” Brian said doubtfully.

“And, really, Christmas music is so pretty, and the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas is so short that, if you just listen to Christmas carols during that short amount of time, you won’t be able to enjoy the music for as long, and it’s so pretty that it should be enjoyed.  And, so, by playing it earlier, you get to enjoy it earlier which makes the holidays last longer, and the holidays are such a wonderful time of the year, it’d be a shame to make them shorter.  I mean, I know that, technically, they are only so long, days-wise, and you can’t really make them, the holidays, I mean, last longer, but you know what I mean,” Honey tried to explain before asking with a sweet smile, “Don’t you think so, Brian?”

Brian looked a bit dazed, but he smiled back at her and conceded, “I guess you do have a point.”

At this, both Mart and Dan looked at each other and rolled their eyes. 

“Guys, you’re totally – ” Trixie began again, but, this time, she was interrupted by Di.

“And, plus, when you listen to Christmas carols, it puts you in a festive mood just like Jim said, and then you want to go out and do fun things like shop and sign Christmas cards and wrap presents.  And you get that stuff done earlier instead of later.  So, see, Christmas music really can be helpful,” Di said smartly, crossing her arms and shooting Mart a satisfied look as if the matter was settled.

Mart threw his hands up in the air and said with an exasperated sigh, “Fine, great!  We’ll listen to Christmas carols.  I don’t see why we can’t wait until after the jack-o-lanterns have had a chance to rot, though.”

“And, hey, maybe at our next meeting we can dye Easter eggs,” Dan added with a wink.

Amidst the resulting laughter, Trixie sharply banged the rock they used as a gavel on the table.  “Guys,” she said with an indignant shake of blonde curls, “this is not a discussion on when we should start listening to Christmas music.”

“It’s not?” Jim asked, perplexed.

“No, it’s not,” she replied.  “We’re playing Christmas music as background music to get us in the mood.”

“We know.  It’s helpful and festive; that’s been covered,” Brian reminded her. 

Honey giggled.  “No, that’s not it.  Not that it’s not helpful and festive, but that’s not why we’re playing it.”

“It’s not?” Jim asked again.

“See, here we have reason and the girls in perfect harmony,” Dan observed.

“More like two ships passing in the night, you mean,” returned Mart, which earned him a slap on the arm from Di.

It was Trixie’s turn to roll her eyes as she got up and turned off the music with a snap of the button.  “Have you all ever wondered why we can never stay on subject?” she idly wondered aloud.

“There’s a subject?” asked Brian.

With a twinkle in his green eyes, Jim wisely stated, “Christmas music, Brian.  Pay attention.”

Di and Honey were both giggling now, and Trixie blew a curl out of out of her eyes in frustration.  Bracing her hands on the table, she leaned down and said slowly, “We are playing Christmas music to get us in the mood to discuss what we want to do for our Christmas project this year.”

“Because we need to start making plans now while we still have time,” added Honey through her laughter.  “And, like Di said, Christmas music can be helpful.”

“We know!” Mart said, before the girls could start listing the virtues of Christmas music again.

“So, do we want to have some sort of fundraiser or sell UNICEF cards again, or what?” Trixie questioned them as she sat back down in her chair beside Jim.

“And we also need to decide who or what we want to raise funds for,” mentioned Honey.  She then looked across the table at Brian with a quizzical look in her hazel eyes and asked, “What do you think, Brian?”

 “Brian!”

At the sound of his name, Brian looked up, startled, and then grinned in recognition when he saw the young woman coming toward him.  “Laura, hey!”

Laura Preston was a fellow medical student in the same program as Brian.  She was a pretty brunette with long, curly hair; friendly, blue eyes; and a contagious smile.  She and Brian got along well, and they often had study sessions together.  In fact, after Honey had broken up with him, and Kevin had failed in his attempt to get Brian dating again, Laura had been one of the only ones who could successfully drag him away from his apartment, even if it were only to the library.  Today, she was laden down with numerous shopping bags and was desperately trying to balance a book and a cup of coffee while she hurried over to greet him.

“What are you doing here?  I looked over, and I was like ‘That’s Brian!’,” she said happily as Brian rescued a couple of sliding bags from under one of her arms. 

“I was just purchasing some gift cards before I left the city,” Brian told her.  “But what are you doing back here?  I thought you were staying home in Virginia.”

Laura laughed. “There’s no one left at home,” she explained.  “My parents were totally exhausted after my sister’s wedding last Saturday, so they decided to spend Christmas with my aunt in Florida.  Don’t ever try to plan a Christmas wedding.  It was horrible!”

All semester long, Laura had been regaling the other students with tales of her younger sister’s wedding plans, and, as the time had drawn closer to the wedding, and, therefore, closer to Christmas as well, the stories had only gotten crazier.

“The wedding didn’t go too well, then?” he asked, chuckling at Laura, who was rolling her eyes in mock agony.

“Oh, no!  Everything was fine mostly.  But, by the time it was over, no one had any energy left for Christmas, so my mom just threw up her hands and told my dad they were going to Florida.”

“But you didn’t go with them?” Brian said, stating the obvious.

Laura shook her head and responded, “No, David really wanted me to come back here and spend Christmas with his family.”

David Van Alen was Laura’s fiancé, and the two were engaged to be married the following autumn.  David came from a well-to-do, high-society family of New York.  His father was a business associate of Matthew Wheeler’s, and David himself was a lawyer with, according to his mother, political aspirations.  Brian knew that Laura was worried about how her medical career plans would fit into the Van Alen lifestyle.  He had met David and had liked him well enough, but, privately, he was a little worried for her, too.

“Is David here with you?” he questioned, glancing around the store.

“No,” she replied.  “He had to finish up some things at his office, and I needed a couple more things to finish my Christmas shopping.”  Gesturing toward her pile of shopping bags, Laura giggled and added, "And all these last minute sales were so good, I couldn’t resist.  Then I remembered I still needed to get David’s nephew a present, so here I am!”

Holding up the book in her hand for his inspection, she asked him, “What do you think?”

“Ah… Where the Wild Things Are,” Brian said, smiling.  “That used to be one of my favorites.”

She laughed in amused delight.  “Somehow, Brian, I can’t imagine you ever being sent to bed without your supper.”

“No, but I always wanted to have a wild rumpus,” he told her with a wink.

“A wild rumpus, huh?” Laura teased.

Her blue eyes twinkling with mischief, she looked him over with her head slightly cocked to one side.  After a moment, she checked her watch and suggested, “It’s not a wild rumpus, but why don’t we have lunch?  There’s a cute little coffee shop one street over.”

Brian, too, looked at his watch before replying, “Sure, why not?”  Brian always enjoyed spending time with Laura, and her effervescent, bubbly personality never failed to cheer him up.  “Just let me go buy some gift cards.”

Laura went to the register with him to purchase her book, and then the two, both carrying Laura’s numerous packages and Brian’s one small bag, left the bookstore and headed for the coffee shop. 

The inside of the restaurant was decorated in the manner of an old-fashioned diner, with lots of chrome and vinyl, and smelled of coffee and freshly-baked pumpkin bread.  They both ordered cups of the soup of the day, club sandwiches, and sodas, and, because the pumpkin bread smelled so good, bought slices of it as well.  They sat down in a booth by the window where they could watch the masses of people stroll by and began to munch contentedly on their lunches while idly discussing various topics like whether or not it would snow and if fruitcake really did last forever.  Laura also told him, through laughter-inducing tears, the story of her sister deciding an hour before the wedding that she really didn’t want Christmas trees in the church, which had resulted in their mother locking herself in the bathroom while their father and the ushers hurriedly removed the trees – only to have to replace them fifteen minutes later.

When they started discussing the upcoming semester at school, though, the laughter quickly died in Laura’s eyes, and she carefully placed her sandwich back down on the plate as if she’d lost her appetite.

“What is it?” Brian asked in concern, sensing the change in Laura’s demeanor.

She hesitated for a moment, avoiding eye contact with him, before responding, “It’s just… umm… I don’t think… I mean… I may not be coming back next semester.”

“What?  Why?” Brian was shocked.  Laura was one of the smartest people he knew, and she was thriving in medical school.

“Well, I am getting married, you know,” she reminded him, meticulously folding her straw paper into a little square.  “And David’s got this great career and a wonderful future, and he’ll need me to be available to him as a wife.”

Brian found himself getting angry on her behalf.  “Did David ask you to quit medical school?” 

He thought of his sister and Jim.  While Jim may not have preferred Trixie’s career choice and would always worry about her, Brian felt confident that his friend would never ask Trixie to give up her dream, instinctively knowing that, if Trixie were forced to give up becoming a detective, she would essentially be giving up a part of herself as well.  Jim loved Trixie, and he loved everything about her.  Unlike Laura who was doubting herself, Brian knew that Trixie was secure in Jim’s support and unwavering belief in her. 

Learning forward, he looked across the table at Laura and waited until she looked up to meet his gaze before stating gently, “If you love someone, you don’t ask them to give up their dream.”

“But, if you really loved someone, wouldn’t you give up something you wanted, if you knew it would be better for the person you loved?” Laura countered softly.

Brian sat back in his seat, not knowing how to respond.  He wondered if he would have quit medical school if Honey had asked him to.  If he were being truthful with himself, he knew that, if the choice had been between being a doctor or being with Honey, he would have chosen Honey without a moment’s hesitation.  But the point was, she never would have asked.

“So, David doesn’t want you to be a doctor,” he said again.  

“No, no,” she said quickly, shaking her head.  “It’s not like that…  David is very supportive, and he’s very proud of me, too.  I’ve just been talking to his mother.”

“And she told you that you needed to quit?”  Brian wondered if Laura really knew what she was getting into by marrying into the Van Alen family.

Laura smiled.  “Well, no, not in so many words.  She just keeps reminding me what my duties will be as a ‘society’ wife and how I’ll need to be supportive when David begins campaigning.  And it’s not like we’ll need money, you know, and David wants children…”  Her voice trailed away as she saw she wasn’t convincing him.

“But what do you want?” Brian asked, watching her carefully.

“I’m not sure,” she said and then laughed a bit self-consciously.  “Isn’t that silly?  When I was a kid, I was always so sure about what I wanted and who I was going to be.  I had my life completely mapped out.  But now… I don’t know… I mean I love David, so shouldn’t I want to be there to support him as his wife?”

He shook his head in disagreement.  “You can still be supportive and be a doctor, too.”

“Brian, you know how crazy our schedules are going to be, especially in the first years!  I don’t know if I can be a wife and a mother and a doctor and be any good at any of them,” she replied honestly.

Brian met her troubled gaze with one of his own.  He realized that he was the last person who should be handing out advice, so he chose only to say, “Just promise me you won’t decide anything without giving yourself time to think about it.” 

“Don’t worry.  I really haven’t decided anything yet,” she tried to assure him in a deceptively lighter tone, casually brushing some crumbs off the table.  “But, enough about that, I don’t want to spoil our lunch.”

As if coming to an unspoken, mutual decision, the two once again began talking of other things that were of no consequence to either one of them while they finished their meal.  When they were done eating, Brian took the tray with their garbage to the trashcan by the front door. Upon his return to the table, he found Laura solemnly watching him while she took one last sip of her drink. 

“Let’s go have a wild rumpus,” she suggested out of the blue.

He stared at her, mouth slightly agape.  “What did you say?” 

Laura giggled and, with the mischievous look back in her eyes, explained, “A wild rumpus!  Before I go meet David at his parents’ house for their boring cocktail party and before you go back home, let’s go do something fun!”

“Something fun,” Brian repeated slowly. 

“Yes, something fun.  For once, let’s just go do something for ourselves, Brian.”

As Brian considered her suggestion, he felt a burgeoning sense of wantonness rise up within him and a relief that he might not yet have to leave for Sleepyside.  He raised an eyebrow at her and asked, “What did you have in mind?”

She promptly answered, “Ice skating.”

“Ice skating?” he repeated again, beginning to feel like a broken record.  Brian didn’t know what he had expected her to say, but it certainly hadn’t been ice skating.

“Yes!” she declared excitedly.  “It’s a gorgeous day!  Let’s go rent some ice skates at Rockefeller Center with all the other tourists.”

Brian looked at the pretty young woman who sat before him, waiting for him to make his decision.  The urge to not be responsible and to claim this one afternoon for himself before he had to go back home was too strong for him to overcome.

“Okay,” he said suddenly, grinning back at Laura.  “Let the wild rumpus begin.”

Brian and Laura quickly left the coffee shop and hailed a cab. After they had settled themselves and Laura’s shopping bags in the backseat of the vehicle, they both looked at each other and burst out laughing, feeling like two kids playing hooky from school.  When they arrived at the rink, they rented skates, found a couple of lockers for Laura’s things and their shoes, and, after Brian laced Laura’s skates and then his own, they glided out onto the ice with everyone else.

The air was briskly invigorating, the sky a brilliant winter blue with high, wispy clouds just beginning to form in the distance.  Cheerful holiday tunes played out over the everyday sounds of swishing skates and people laughing and calling out to one another, while the famed Rockefeller Center tree stood imposing above the crowds, shadowing everything in its Christmas grandeur.  Brian soon lost himself in the festive atmosphere.  He firmly pushed away the images of another lake sheltered in quiet woods and another girl skating beside him with hair streaming out behind her like a golden banner, and, instead, chose to focus on the young woman currently with him and the new-found freedom he felt in being with her.  As he looked down at Laura, he was surprised to realize he was having a good time for the first time in a very long time.

Apparently, they had not been the only ones to decide skating would be a fun pastime on the afternoon of the eve of Christmas, and Brian and Laura spent a lot of time dodging the other skaters on the crowded ice.  Laura, who was not as familiar with being on the ice as Brian, often clutched his forearm as a skater whizzed by or came toward them with arms flailing out of control.

“You’re really good at this!” she told him after he placed a strong arm around her waist to keep her from slipping when two little boys raced by.

“I’ve had lots of practice,” he said casually, grinning down at her. 

A guy trying to show off for his girlfriend fell and suddenly began to slide across the ice into Laura.  To save her, Brian swung her around in front of him so that they were facing each other, bringing his arms up around her back and drawing her closely into him so she wouldn’t fall.  In the breeze, her curls were blowing wildly about her face from underneath her black, suede cap.  Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were pink from the cold, and her blue eyes were sparkling like sapphires as she smiled up at him.  

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, a bit breathless himself.

For a moment, they simply stood there, gazing into each other’s eyes and silently questioning what they were all of a sudden seeing.  Laura’s lips were poised just mere inches from his own, and, breathing hard, they both waited to see what the other would do. 

For her sake as well as his own, Brian realized he needed put a stop to the jolt of attraction that was running back and forth between them like an electric current.  So, he gently moved her back to his side and teased, “I wouldn’t want to have to return you to David with a broken ankle.” 

The moment effectively ended, the spark in Laura’s eyes dulled at the mention of David’s name, and she looked away from Brian, saying quietly, “No, I don’t suppose he would like that.”

Brian silently cursed himself when he saw the hurt look steal over Laura’s features.   Yet again, he was forcing someone away from him out of an overdeveloped sense of honor, but he also knew instinctively that he’d done the right thing.  Laura was engaged to David, and Brian wasn’t ready for a relationship and valued their friendship too much to use her for a casual fling, regardless of whether or not he was the type of guy to break up a couple or whether he thought David was worthy of her.   Still, he hated to see her hurt, especially since it had been his words that caused her hurt.

Deliberately trying to change the subject, he took hold of her hand and lightly suggested, “Hey, why don’t we get some hot chocolate?”

Laura looked back up at Brian, recognizing what he was doing and seeming to realize, like he had, that there really couldn’t be anything between them besides a warm friendship.  Accepting that, she laughed and forced a carefree tone to her voice as well.  “Yeah, I think my ankles are ready for some relief!”

As he guided her off the ice and toward a seating area, he noted with some satisfaction that the friendly merriment had returned to light her eyes.  “You sit here,” he said, slipping some guards on his skates, “and I’ll go get us something to drink.”

Returning with two Styrofoam cups of hot chocolate from one of the vendors, Brian was just in time to see Laura throw back her head in delighted laughter at the antics of some small children in front of her.  Her laughter danced and echoed like music in his ears, and he found himself wishing that he had met her in another time and place.  Shaking his head at the whimsical thought, he sat down on the bench beside her and handed her a cup of the steaming beverage.  

“Careful, it’s hot,” he warned.

With pursed lips, Laura blew on the hot chocolate, took a cautious sip, and then sighed rapturously.  “Oooh…. this is just lovely!”

Trying hard not to watch as she licked her lips in appreciation, Brian murmured, “Yes…. yes, it is.”

They lapsed into silence while they sipped their drinks, each lost in their own thoughts as they watched the skaters going round and round.   Briefly, Brian wondered about all the different people who skated past Laura and him… wondering what had brought them to the ice skating rink and where they were going when they left.   A little boy and a little girl skated by, hand-in-hand, and Brian smiled at the pretty picture they made in their matching knitted hats and navy blue coats.

“Do you remember when you were a child,” Laura asked idly, breaking the silence, “and you never had to worry about being anywhere?  You could just enjoy the moment you were in?”

Brian looked over at Laura, who was following the progress of the little boy and girl with her eyes.  He wasn’t sure he could ever remember an occasion in his life when he hadn’t been worried or cautious about something.  But surely there must have been at least one time, so he replied, “Yeah, I do.”

Laura turned to meet Brian’s gaze and said quietly, “I think it’s time for us to go.”

“I think you’re right,” he agreed, just as quietly.

As one, they got up from the bench.   After they had thrown away their cups, they retrieved their shoes and Laura’s shopping bags from the lockers and turned their skates back in.  Even with the Christmas traffic, the cab ride back to David’s apartment, where Laura was meeting him, was over quickly, and, soon, Brian was helping Laura out of the car with all of her packages.  The cab driver waited while Brian, standing outside, told her good-bye.

They stood awkwardly, neither one quite sure how to end the afternoon.

Brian looked behind Laura at the brownstone with its tastefully trimmed shrubs and understated elegance.  “So, this is where is David lives,” he stated.

“Yeah,” Laura responded with a careless toss of her head in the direction of the building. “His apartment’s on the back side of the second floor facing the courtyard.  He just moved in, so he’s still got boxes everywhere.”  Laura seemed to realize she was rambling, so she stopped describing David’s apartment to Brian.

“It’s nice,” Brian commented politely, looking at Laura.

“Yes,” she agreed, looking back at him.

A heartbeat later, Brian said, “I guess I should be going,” at the same moment Laura chose to say, “I guess I should go in.”

The awkward moment passed, they both laughed out loud, and then Laura smiled brightly at him while she declared, “I had a wonderful time this afternoon. Thank you.”

“Thank you,”” he said, leaning against the cab and grinning at her with his arms crossed.  “My first ‘wild rumpus’ was a huge success.”

Laura giggled.  “Well, you’ll have to try it again someday.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” he promised with a wink.

“Sure you will,” she teased, winking back.  “I know you.” 

They paused for another moment, until Brian, for lack of anything better to say, said, “Well…”

“Well,” she drawled out, quirking an eyebrow at him. 

Brian felt silly offering his hand to her to shake good-bye.  Plus, both of Laura’s hands were occupied with her numerous shopping bags, so he moved forward to hug her.  When she saw what he was doing though, she dropped the bags at her feet to hug him back.  Brian recovered quickly from the initial surprise at holding her in his arms and clasped her tightly to him.  She felt good in his arms, and Brian drew strength from their embrace.

His mouth against her ear, he softly said, “Merry Christmas, Laura,” before releasing her.

“Merry Christmas, Brian,” she returned and kissed him quickly on his cheek.  She laughed lightly and then brushed the imaginary lipstick smudges off his face.  “Wouldn’t want you to go back home and cause everybody to wonder!”

Brian laughed and agreed wryly, “No, we wouldn’t want to give anyone anything to talk about.”

Knowing it really was past time for him to leave, he turned to open the door to get back inside the cab.  Before he could get in, though, Laura stopped him with her hand upon his arm.  When he turned back around, she leaned forward, and Brian, realizing her intent, met her halfway. 

Her lips were soft and pliant against his own, and they kissed eagerly.  As Brian molded his mouth to hers, he cradled her head in his hands to bring her closer to him, running his fingers through her soft, springy curls and stubbornly refusing to recall another head with golden tresses he had once held to him.  They clung to each other, desperate to prolong their time together before they had to return to their separate realities and trying to find something within the other that they had lost along the way.  Then, the kiss gradually softened as they realized that those things that were lost weren’t always so easily found again.

Laura pulled away first.  She bent to pick up her discarded shopping bags, and, when she rose back up with the bags in one hand, she lay her other hand softly against the side of his face, gazing into his dark eyes with a soft, tender look in her own blue eyes.

“Good-bye, Brian,” Laura whispered, gracing him with a lovely, bittersweet smile before turning away and walking into the apartment building.

Brian watched her walk away, and, then, sighing, got back in the cab.  As the car drove away, he wondered if he would ever see Laura again.  He wondered if Dave or his mother would convince her to quit medical school, and he wondered if he would stay around to found out.

 *****

 By the time Brian had returned to his apartment, there had been barely any time left to change his clothes, finish packing, and make it to the train station before the last train left.  He almost didn’t even make it on the train due to the throngs of people, as Helen had correctly predicted, milling about, all trying to leave the city at the same time.  And, by the time he started the car his parents had left for him and drove away from the station, he knew he would be lucky if he made it to the church service before it ended. 

As it was, when Brian arrived at the church, the service had only just begun so he consoled himself with the thought that he wasn’t terribly late.  Uncharacteristically late, yes, but not as late as he had feared he would be.  His dress shoes crunched in leftover snow and icy slush as he quickly made his way from the car and up the stairs to the church’s front porch.  He hurried inside the wooden front door, not taking the time to notice the beauty of the star-lit night. 

The church’s heating system was running full blast, and the contrast from the crisp, cool air outside to the hot, stuffy air inside the vestibule was stifling.   Taking off his black, woolen coat, he paused a moment to listen while the choir sang.   When he heard the choir director invite the congregation to join the singing, Brian quietly opened the interior door and, moving as silently as possible, tried to slip unnoticed into a back pew.  Helen, however, who had been anxiously waiting for her eldest son, turned around in her seat seven rows up as soon as the door opened and smiled with relief when she saw Brian.

Brian smiled back at his mother and settled into his seat.  The rush from his apartment to the train station to his car and finally to the church had been hectic, and sitting there in the old church, listening to the familiar carols being sung and the words quietly being spoken by the reverend, was strangely refreshing.  Brian felt his body slowly relax into the pew.  He had been so conscious of the minutes ticking away on the digital clock in the car during the drive to the church that he hadn’t given himself time to think about Laura or Honey, and the Sleepyside landmarks had whizzed by so fast he had barely had time to register them. 

Now, as he tried to adjust to the feeling of being home again, he discovered that, regardless of everything that had happened or would happen, being home felt… nice.  He had to admit that there was something comforting in knowing that, no matter where he went or what he did, he could always come home to Sleepyside and to Crabapple Farm.  This was his home, and he couldn’t deny his home and his family just because he wasn’t ready to deal with the memories he was afraid he’d find there.  As he was trying to learn how to carry on with his life, he was also learning that memories had a way of lingering.   And, sometimes, that was okay.  The key was learning how to deal with those memories while still living.  Maybe, Brian decided, he had needed to come back home to learn that he could move on.  Or, perhaps, he reflected with a small smile, he had needed a wild rumpus to remind him.  And, just like the boy in the story, he had returned from his wild rumpus to those who loved him best. 

Looking around the church, he acknowledged that not every memory was one to avoid.   The man he was now was largely due to how he grew up in Sleepyside, and the Bob-Whites had been an important part of his life.  Lately, though, separating Honey from his collage of memories had been as impossible as shifting sugar out of ordinary sand.  When he looked back, all he’d been seeing was Honey.  She had become as finely ingrained in his bank of memories as Christmas mornings at Crabapple Farm.  He remembered the day he met her as clearly as if it had happened yesterday, while everything that had come before was like a faded photo stuck between the pages of an album on a shelf. 

On that hot, summer day, Brian had come home from camp, and she’d been running down the path between their homes, breathless and sweet.  Suddenly, he found his life had changed… because Honey had moved next door.  She had been everything that was good and lovely and right to him.  Learning how to let her go, to let the memories be packed away, and move on was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.   Just when he thought he could go a day without thinking of her, just when he thought he could let go and breathe again, there she was, like a shifting kaleidoscope of images, ever on his mind. 

To everyone, he’d been pretending that he was fine and that Honey was just a friend.  He wondered when the pretense would become reality, and the memory of Honey would reposition itself in his mind and become only a faded image of a girl he once loved.   He realized that, eventually, he’d be able to put away the memories of Honey for good like a well-loved, but outgrown, toy.  But knowing that someday he would wake up without Honey even having been in his dreams felt wrong to him somehow.  If he were being completely honest with himself, Brian realized, he would have to admit that he’d been hanging on because the alternative of letting go was too final.  With Laura today, even though Honey had teased the edges of his mind with her presence, he had felt the slight stirrings of letting go and starting over.  With Laura, he had breathed again, and it had felt good.

Brian shifted in his seat as the reverend continued to read the ancient Christmas story.

“… because there was no room for them in the inn,” the older man was reciting.

Perhaps it was the reverent hush in the sanctuary during the reading or the glow of the candlelight, but, at the words of the verse, Brian felt the unaccustomed prick of tears and blinked them away.  Honey had made it clear that she no longer had room for him.  However, he found what was most heart-breaking was knowing that one day he would no longer have room for her in his heart either.   She would only be the woman he used to love a long time ago. 

Brian remembered other Christmas Eve services where all the Bob-Whites and their families had been together.  They had been happy, warmly secure in their friendships and the ties that bound them together, so sure that they would always be close.  If he closed his eyes, Brian was back there once again. 

And Honey was beside him.

Two rows in front of the Bob-Whites, the Beldens sat with the Wheelers and the Lynches, and Brian secretly marveled at how comfortable and at home they were with each other, three different couples from different walks of life becoming as close as family.   In a way, their parents mirrored the Bob-Whites themselves.  Before the Wheelers had moved into the Manor House, they had all been going down separate roads, but, then, their roads had intersected.  On a sunny, summer day, Honey had said, “Oh, let’s do have a club!”, and Brian had become a Bob-White.  He supposed that what Honey had said on that day was true… forming their club had been like a dream coming true.  He just hadn’t known what his true dreams were until he’d met Honey.  Brian smiled as he looked around at his friends and family.  He supposed that Christmas time was as good of a time as any to rejoice in the blessing of dreams coming true.  Brian sighed in contentment, as the reverend began reading from the second chapter of Luke.  The familiar words were almost like music.

“And the angel said unto them, Fear not:  for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.”

And then the music rose as the sounds of another carol rang out.  “Joy to the world . . .”

Brian looked down at Honey, who was sitting beside him, and thought to himself, This, then, is joy. 

He gently reached down and clasped her hand in his own, casually brushing his thumb across her knuckles and winking at her when she shyly looked up at him from underneath her golden lashes.

The choir director took the reverend’s place at the podium, and, when the people around him began to sing another carol, Brian mentally shook himself back to the present.  

“O come all ye faithful!  Joyful and triumphant!  Come ye; o come ye…” 

Suddenly, the rush of cold air from the doors being opened behind him caused Brian to look up in time to see the back of a golden head disappearing around the corner.  He blinked stupidly, as if seeing a ghost he’d conjured up.  Brian knew that form as well as he knew his own, and, before he had time to stop and think and consider if what he was seeing were real or just another mirage, he was out of his seat and following her, ignoring the surprised stares from those around him.

Brian hurried out the church and down the steps of the front porch.  The woman was moving to her car as quickly as she could, as if trying to get away.  The beat of his heart sped up crazily at the same time his breath caught in his throat. 

It was Honey.  After all these months, it was Honey!  And all the rationalizations and ramblings of his inner mind from moments ago no longer mattered. 

Honey had returned.

“Honey!  Wait!”  He ran after her, his shoes slipping in the ice.

Honey stopped, her hand on the door of the car with her back to him.  He wondered if she would just get in and drive away without looking at him.  He wondered if he could let her.   Brian watched, hardly daring to breathe, as she turned around to face him.

Oh, God.  She was beautiful, achingly so.  But, still, there was something about her that he didn’t recognize.  She looked brittle, like, if he touched her, she might break.  And wary.  She had never before had such a wary look in her eyes when looking at him.  Again, he felt the sting of tears in his eyes.  He wanted to go to her and beg her forgiveness for whatever he had done that had sent her running.  He wanted to go to her and gather her in his arms and kiss away the shattered look in her eyes.  But, he did none of those things.  Instead, Brian simply stared at her, drinking in the sight of her beloved face. 

Against his own better judgment, he felt his guard slipping and asked in careful tones, “Why are you here, Honey?”

“Brian, I – ” Honey began, and then, as if finding herself at a sudden loss of words, she hesitated.

The sound of his name on her lips was almost more than he could take, and he involuntarily took a step forward, feeling a surge of hope begin to chip away at his walls of defense.  But, when she stopped, Brian stopped too and waited for her to continue, to say something… anything that would allow him to meet her halfway. 

Brian met her gaze steadily, urging her forward without words.  Then, just when he was ready to throw caution to the wind and go to her, the look in her eyes grew distant and shuttered.  She clutched her coat tightly around herself, and, even though she didn’t physically move away, Brian could see her withdraw from him.

“Never mind.  I don’t want to know,” he responded bitterly.  Hope died, and his abrupt laughter sounded hollow.  “I don’t even know why I came out here.” 

Brian cursed himself for believing and sighed in resignation.  She watched him silently, and it was suddenly more than he could bear.  “Why don’t you go back to the Manor House where you belong, Honey?”

Just as the weathermen had predicted, the stars in the sky had become obscured by clouds, and icy snowflakes were being thrown down around them.  Brian turned to walk back to the church.

“Brian, please don’t . . .”

At her words, Brian stopped.  She sounded utterly broken and forlorn, and he couldn’t help himself.  He turned back to her.   He was a pathetic fool, he knew, but he couldn’t resist the desperate plea in her voice.  He waited, not touching the hand that she held out to him in supplication.

“I . . . ”  Once again, Honey let her voice trail away.  Her hand dropped back down to her side, and she whispered, “Merry Christmas, Brian.”

He felt anger wash over him.  How, just when he was realizing that he could let her go, could she come back and break his heart all over again?  Images, like the ones he’d been wrestling with all day, swept over him… Honey smiling at him… Honey loving him… Honey leaving him. 

Suddenly, Brian wanted to hurt her as much as she had hurt him.  “Merry Christmas, Madeleine.”

As soon as he said it, he was sorry, sorrier than he’d ever been about anything in his life.  At his words, her hazel eyes had swiftly closed, but not before Brian had spied the stricken look in them.  He felt like he’d driven a knife into his own heart, but didn’t know what to say to take the words back.  Brian shut his own eyes, not able to look at the utter pain etched on her features.   He hated himself.   

When Brian opened his eyes, she was still standing in front of him with her head bent.  He took a step toward her, but then realized the absolute futility of it.  Honey was no longer his.  With the snowflakes swirling around him, he turned and walked back to the church.

The service was over when he went back into the auditorium to retrieve his coat.  His mother saw him, and, stepping away from an acquaintance, came over to him.

“Brian, welcome home, sweetheart!”  she cried out happily as she reached up to hug him. 

As he moved back away, she asked, “Why did you leave?  I heard the door and looked back and saw you running through it.”

“It was nothing,” he answered her.  “I just thought I saw someone I used to know.”

Brian told his mother that he would meet her at home and then walked outside to his car.  In the parking lot, he couldn’t help but look to where she’d been parked. 

Honey was gone.  

Tilting his face up to the sky, he let the snow fall on him, welcoming the stinging cold and then the gradual numbing.  Brian got in the car and drove away from the church, laughing sadly as the radio station began to play Honey’s song. 

Here we are, as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore.
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more. 

Through the years we all will be together,
If the Fates allow.
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough,
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now . . .

***** 

Author’s Notes, Disclaimers (mentioned in order of appearance in story) & Other Asides 

Huge, huge thanks to my editors, Kaye and Susan!  Thank you for sticking with me and not letting me disappear – for the encouragement, the support, and the nagging too!  I love you both!  And a most grateful thanks and appreciation to Dana.  You’re totally wonderful, and I adore you!  And, on this my one year anniversary as a Jixemitri author, I also say thank you to Cathy for giving us all a place to call home, to the administrators and moderators for taking care of our home, and to the other authors and all the readers for their inspiration and friendship and for helping to make Jixemitri the home that it is.  I feel sincerely privileged and honored to be a part of Jixemitri.  Thank you! 

Trixie Belden is a trademark of Random House Publishing.  With the exception of Laura Preston and David Van Alen, these characters are not my own but are the property of Random House Publishing and are used without permission – but with much love and affection!

“Happy Golden Days of Yore, Ab Denuo” is a Jixemitri CWP 2.2 with the following elements:

• Pumpkin bread – Brian and Laura order pumpkin bread at the coffee shop.

• Muzak – While Brian was Christmas shopping, Christmas Muzak was playing in all the stores.

• Mislabeled gifts – Mart & Trixie received mislabeled gifts from Aunt Alicia.

• Daylight Savings Time – In Brian’s flashback of a Bob-White meeting, Dan says that daylight savings time ended two days ago.

• People discussing when it's appropriate to start listening to Christmas music – Brian remembered the Bob-Whites having a rather lengthy discussion of this topic during a club meeting.

• Scrapbook  - Honey puts together the Bob-Whites’ scrapbooks.

• Lipstick smudges – Laura brushes imaginary lipstick smudges off of Brian’s cheek after she kisses him.

• A blizzard or snowstorm – Helen Belden tells Brian that they’re predicting snow, not a snowstorm, but maybe they’ll have a white Christmas.

• Ice skates – Brian and Laura decide to go ice skating before Brian leaves for Sleepyside.

• Trying to organize something big (a move, a wedding, an anniversary party) coming into the holiday season, when everyone is super busy – Laura tells Brian how horrible planning her sister’s wedding before Christmas was.

• Book: Where the Wild Things Are (Publisher: HarperCollins; 40th Annv edition; November 9, 1988) – Laura is buying a copy of the book as a Christmas gift for David’s nephew.

• Crossover Element - “Sales” from CWP #2.1 (Back to School) – The stores in which Brian and Laura were shopping were advertising last-minute Christmas sales.

As an aside on the CWP elements, from the above notes, one would think that I created the character of Laura specifically so that I could find a way to work the elements into the story!  LOL!  Not so!  The conversation between Laura and Brian at the coffee shop is very important. 

“Happy Golden Days of Yore, Ab Denuo” is Part II of “Happy Golden Days of Yore” which was posted in 12/2004.  Part I is from Honey’s point of view, and Part II is from Brian’s point of view.  Brian is in medical school, and Latin is the language for medicine.  Therefore, “ab denuo” is (I think) Latin for “2^nd part” with “ab” being “part” and “denuo” being “second”.  (I found an English-to-Latin translation website, but Latin is so obscure – for every English word, there are numerous different Latin translations – I hope “ab denuo” is close.)

The title “Happy Golden Days of Yore” is taken from the song “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” with lyrics by Kim Gannon and music by Walter Kent.  (The full song also appears twice in the story content.)

Alvin, Simon, and Theodore singing in their “teensy little chipmunk” voices on Bobby’s Christmas cassette tape, of course, refers to “Alvin and the Chipmunks”, a fictional music group created by Ross Bagdasarian and developed into animated figures for children.  Several “Alvin and the Chipmunks” Christmas albums have been released; however, I don’t know if  “Feliz Navidad” was ever a song included on one or more of those albums or not. (But doesn’t “Feliz Navidad” sound like a song the chipmunks would sing?)  The lyrics and music of “Feliz Navidad” were written by Jose Feliciano.

“Transformers” are popular toys for boys which came from a television cartoon series and are manufactured by Hasbro.

“Miami Vice” is a TV show that ran from 1984 through 1989 on NBC.   Many fashion fads for guys in the 1980’s stemmed from this show – pastel colors, skinny ties, t-shirts under suit coats, etc. 

I have no idea if WSKJ is a radio station broadcasting in New York City or not; WSKJ and Johnny Ray and Amy Boehler, as employees of WSKJ, are completely fictional.  Any resemblance to anyone alive or dead is completely coincidental and not intended.

The lyrics that awaken Brian are from the song, “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” with lyrics by Ralph Bane and music by Hugh Martin.

When Brian thinks to himself, “Ha, I’m Scrooge, and she’s my Ghost of Christmas Past”, it is a reference to the Charles Dicken classic, A Christmas Carol.

“Lucy Radcliffe” refers to the title character of a book series loved by Trixie and detailed in Trixie Belden and the Ghostly Galleon Mystery.

The “Dear Brian” letter that Brian receives from Honey refers to the infamous “Dear John” letters some guys receive when their girlfriends decide to break-up with them.

Confession time! I’ve never been to New York City or any of its surrounding areas, so I don’t know where anything is located in the city and its suburbs.  I’m assuming there would be a commuter train from New York City to its outlying suburbs which is why I have Brian taking a train into Sleepyside and then driving to the church.  Along on those same lines, I have no idea what department stores and/or shops are located in NYC (well, besides, Macy’s and Tiffany’s!) and haven’t a clue as to where they would be located (besides those high-end 5^th Avenue shops) – which is why I didn’t name any particular shops or streets.  So, fair warning!  Suspension of disbelief may be required!

The phrase “… and shoppers rushing home with their treasures” is a reference to the song, “Silver Bells” with lyrics and music by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans.

Mead’s Mountain (where Honey has apparently moved) refers to the fictional place in Vermont detailed in Trixie Belden and the Mystery on Mead’s Mountain.

The phrase “…all the silver bells ringing and the halls being decked and the angels singing glory…” is a reference to “Silver Bells” (see previous note on “Silver Bells”), “Deck the Halls” (a traditional Welsh melody with lyrics sometimes attributed to J. P. McCaskey), and “Angels We Have Heard on High” (a traditional French carol).

Muzak is a trademark name invented in 1922 by Major General George O. Squier when he patented a system for the transmission and distribution of background music from phonograph records over electrical lines to workplaces.

The lyrics and music of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” were written by Johnny Marks, and the Brenda Lee version is one of the most well-known.

Mart saying that a “… a dinosaur just went out the door too” is a reference to Trixie Belden and the Mystery of the Missing Heiress where Mart says that Jim would believe Trixie even if she said a dinosaur had just disappeared into the bushes.

If there really is a Christmas music study like the one that Di mentions, it is purely coincidental.

The Bob-Whites discuss selling UNICEF cards because, in Trixie Belden and the Happy Valley Mystery, the characters mention that they've done so.

Laura is engaged to a man named David Van Alen.  The name Van Alen comes from the book, Lions and Lace, written by Meagan McKinney.  In the book, the heroine’s name is Alana Van Alen, and it is where I first read of New York  “Knickerbocker” society of the late 1880s and early 1900s.   When I created David Van Alen and his family, I had the NYC “Knickerbocker” lifestyle and mindset pictured for them – although, of course,  “Happy Golden Days of Yore” is set in contemporary times. 

Where the Wild Things Are was, of course, written by Maurice Sendak and is one of my very favorite books.  I was so ‘cited when I saw that it was an element!  And, of course, if you’ve read the book, you know that Max (the main character) is sent to bed without his supper where he dreams of having a “wild rumpus” with the monsters, but, then after his dreams, he returns (wakes up) to “those who love him best”. 

The coffee shop where Brian and Laura eat lunch is fictional.  Any resemblance to an actual restaurant is completely coincidental and not intended.

In the same way that I know nothing about NYC and its shopping districts, commuter trains, and suburbs, I also know nothing about the ice skating rink at Rockefeller Center.  I do know that it’s opened on Christmas Eve.  I would assume that there are lockers for storing valuables and vendors around selling yummy things like hot chocolate.  And, of course, I’ve seen the famed tree in books and on TV, but, again, suspension of disbelief may be necessary!  *wink*

The phrases of verses used (“… because there was no room for them in the inn” and “Fear not, for I bring you good tidings of great joy…”) are from Luke 2:7 & 2:10 of the King James Version of the Bible.

Brian, in one of his numerous flashbacks, remembers Honey saying “Oh, let’s do have a club” and “It’s all like a dream coming true.”  Both phrases are said by Honey in Trixie Belden and the Gatehouse Mystery when the Bob-Whites were first formed.

As an aside, as I read back over this story, I decided I’m way too addicted to the TV show, “Lost”.  For those of you who are fans of the show, you know that one of the show’s trademarks is the “character flashback”.  And, gee whiz!  How many flashbacks does Brian have in this story?  If I could put music in with the story, I’d put that impending flashback music in… LOL!

The lyrics of “Joy to the World” were written by Isaac Watts with music possibly by Handel and arranged by Lowell Mason. 

“O Come, All Ye Faithful” is a Latin hymn translated by Frederick Oakeley, from Wade’s Cantus Diversi.

Unless noted, all of the above are used without permission.

And, finally, for those of you still interested (and still reading these insanely long author’s notes), if you’re wondering what the heck happened between Brian and Honey, I have plans to tell their story in “Baby Did a Bad, Bad Thing” with it concluding in “A League of Questionable Gentlemen” and “Carry Her Over the Water”.  Of course, things can always change!  LOL!  For example, Laura Preston was originally created simply for Brian to have that coffee shop conversation and then to be used as a diversion to make Brian late in returning to Sleepyside.  However, she had other ideas and insisted she was more than just a “diversion”.  Trust me, that kiss surprised me as much as it did anyone else!  Of course, if you were with the good doctor, wouldn’t you want to be more than just a diversion too?  J