Bobby couldn't contain the giggle as he tiptoed into the bedroom. His brothers had arrived home late last night and Bobby wanted to wake them up in style. It was his special day after all.

Nearing Mart's bed, Bobby put a fist in his mouth to keep his laughter muffled. Unexpectedly hearing a floorboard creak from behind him, Bobby almost peed himself when he turned around to find Trixie tiptoeing behind him. He was relieved when he recognized the same impish twinkle that was sparkling in his own eyes. Stifling her own laughter, Trixie motioned for him to continue with his plan. Bobby benevolently pulled a second water pistol from the pocket of his shorts and held it out to her. He quickly recalculated his plan with a finesse that would have amazed any of the alphabet soup spy organizations. Motioning toward Brian's bed on the other side of the room, his eyes pleaded with Trixie to use her water gun on Brian instead. Pursing her lips and quietly mumbling something about his birthday and not promoting her own self-interest, Trixie nodded and moved stealthily toward their dark-haired sibling. Mimicking his sister, Bobby positioned himself at the foot of the bed in front of him and took aim. Taking a deep breath, Bobby initiated the attack.

"HEY! It's MY birthday! Time to get up!!" Bobby shouted, leaping on the bed and squirting Mart with the ice cold water.

Sputtering, a bleary eyed Mart threw his pillow at Bobby and knocked him to the ground. Bobby recovered quickly and released an excited yell, which made Reddy howl, while quickly exiting the room. He paused briefly in the doorway to watch his sister's progress. Laughing, Trixie was trying to escape, but Brian and Mart had caught her. They hoisted her off of the ground with Brian holding the biting end and Mart the kicking one. Seeing that Bobby was still nearby, they unceremoniously dumped her to the floor and tore out after the little terror.

"Moms!" Bobby cried, flying down the stairs at break neck speed. Arriving in the kitchen and finding his mother absent, Bobby hurried to a window to see if she was in the garden. Instead, he noticed that her car was no longer parked in the driveway. "Uh oh!" he mumbled to himself and grabbed for the door handle.

"Not so fast, small fry!" Mart growled, slapping a large hand against the door to hold it firmly in place.

"Come on, Mart, it was all in good fun," Bobby nervously laughed.

"Good fun my a-"

"Mart!" Brian and Trixie simultaneously interrupted.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Mart turned to face his siblings. "What do you expect when I wake up to a water pistol full of ice cold water in my face?" he thundered.

Brian carefully eyed him. "I seem to recall someone else driving us all insane when they finally reached age twelve."

"Yeah, Trixie, when she bemoaned how alone she was and convinced Moms and Dad to make us let her tag along on our fishing trip," Mart snickered.

Trixie threw a kitchen towel at his head. "That’s not how it happened and you know it, Smarty-Marty!"

“How did it happen?” Bobby asked excitedly. “Tell me! Please?”

“Well,” Trixie said, “The way I remember it…”

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday dear Trixie…

Happy birthday to you.

From her spot at the head of the dining room table, Trixie wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at Mart. In her mind turning twelve didn’t make her too old to engage in such actions. Besides, she thought with a small snort, she’d heard him sneak her hated name of Beatrix into the song. And, apparently, so had her mother.

“Mart,” Helen murmured quietly, offering him the patented parental look of mild displeasure.

Mart flushed under the second reprimand. His foot still smarted where his older brother had stepped on it moments after he’d intentionally sung the wrong name. “Happy birthday, Trix,” he grumbled under his breath, embarrassed because he’d been caught. He nodded a stiff apology at her.

In the spirit of the day, Trixie accepted the less-than-gracious apology with more tact than she normally displayed towards her slightly older brother and turned her attention to the cake. It was chocolate, her favorite, and covered with fluffy white icing. All homemade. Her mouth began watering. Twelve flickering candles were placed haphazardly on the top. “Gleeps, Moms!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight. “You really outdid yourself. The cake looks absolutely delicious.”

“An’ there’re hundreds and hundreds of candles on it!” Bobby jabbed a chubby finger at the cake. His round face alight with glee, he was barely able to contain his excitement and bumped into the table when he reached out to try and touch one of the tempting candles. With a stern expression on his face, Peter quickly intercepted his hand before he could and gave a negative shake of his head.

“No, Bobby! There aren’t hundreds of candles. There are only twelve,” Trixie corrected him with a proud tilt of her chin. It was exciting to have finally attained the age right before she turned an official teenager. Twelve sounded so much more mature than eleven. Plus, she had the added benefit of being the exact same age as one of her brothers. For an entire month, even.

Puzzled, Bobby poked Mart in the side. With big blue eyes full of childlike wonder, he wondered aloud, “Ain’t you twelve?”

“Aren’t,” Helen mildly corrected her youngest under her breath.

Mart ruffled Bobby’s blonde curls. Releasing a deep sigh, he declared in a voice drenched in brotherly despair,

“She’s been trying hard all year, Bobby. Today, she finally caught up to me.” He leaned down to whisper, his voice cocky and sure, “But never fear. It’ll only last for a month. Then I’ll be back in the lead.”

“Ain’t…I mean, aren’t,” Helen corrected herself with a little laugh. She’d learned very quickly in life that one had to develop an extremely good sense of humor when it came to parenting. Sucking in a deep breath, she tried again. “Aren’t you going to make your birthday wish and blow out your candles, dear?”

“I’d better be careful. I seem to remember someone scorching his eyebrows when he tried to blow out his candles.” Trixie aimed a satisfied grin towards Mart, who flushed even redder underneath it.

“Geez, Trix. Give me a break. I was only four years old,” he muttered in his defense.

Feeling as if she’d managed to even things out between them, something they both tried desperately hard to do at any given moment, Trixie smiled sweetly at Mart and turned back to the cake. The candles were topped with bright and jaunty-looking flames. She stared at them a moment, considering her wish, while her brothers cheered her on.  She stifled a chuckle when Bobby yelled out for her to wish for a new frog and slanted an annoyed glare at Mart who encouraged her to wish for a tutor in math since he knew it wasn’t her favorite subject. She was totally intending to wish for her own horse or maybe for two brothers who acted more like Brian when a new thought hit her. She went with it, though, and opened her mouth to blow out the candles as the wish formed fully in her mind.

I wish for a friend. Not just a friend but the very best friend in the entire world.

Satisfied, she blew out the candles and blushed prettily underneath all the applause. She took her seat at the table and accepted the traditional first piece of cake from her mother. China blue eyes took everything in. It was fun to watch her family laugh and joke with each other as they enjoyed their generous slices of her birthday cake.

Pretty soon the only part of the chocolate that was left was a smattering of crumbs on the serving dish.

“Moms, you bake the best cake in the entire county!” Mart patted his full belly after finishing off the remnants of his third piece.

“Isn’t it time for presents yet?” Bobby piped up, a speculative gleam in his eyes. Maybe one of those gaily wrapped presents would have his name on it. He could always hope.

Peter looked at his daughter. “What do you think, Princess? Are you ready for presents?”

Trixie didn’t need to be asked twice. “I’m always ready for presents, Daddy,” she said with a small laugh and stood up, automatically starting to clear the table.

Brian stopped her and gave her a small push out of the room. “None of that, Trix. I’ll take care of it,” he offered gallantly.

Her expressive face briefly reflected her surprise. Never one to turn down an unexpected offer, especially when it came to housework, she grinned and took off towards the living room, an extra special bounce to her step the entire way. She stopped in the doorway and immediately zeroed in on the mound of presents. All for her. Her imagination got the better of her while she pondered what could be inside. Her fingers itched to tear into the presents. 

But she had to wait until the entire family was gathered together in the living room. Never one to like the limelight, Trixie felt the dreaded blush that seemed to plague her in times like these start to spread its merry way across her face. She settled herself on the sofa, her hands bunched at her sides, and chuckled when Bobby toddled over, a crumpled up paper in his hands which was obviously her first present of the day.

“Happy birthday, Trixie,” he said and thrust the paper out at her. “Moms made me make it for you this morning.” He swiped a hand under his nose and looked expectantly up at her.

“Thanks,” she murmured to him, hiding an inner grin.  It took her a minute to smooth out the wrinkles in the crinkled paper. The first thing she noticed was the figure of a boy. At least, she assumed it was a boy. It was really only a circle with two lines coming out of the sides and two more straight lines reaching down to the bottom, all drawn in blue. A few facial features had been added. Two crooked eyes, a nose, and a long wavy mouth. And there was another circle, a carbon copy of the first one. Only the color was different. This time it was red. “You and Reddy, right?” she guessed correctly. Delighted, Bobby aimed a toothy grin her way and scampered back over to their mother’s waiting arms.

“This is from your Uncle Andrew.” Peter offered over a birthday card. Trixie eagerly opened it and skipped over the handwritten note, more interested in the stack of one dollar bills inside. Twelve of them. One for how many years she’d spent on this earth. It was a habit of her favorite uncle’s to offer the same amount of money that equaled their years to each of his nieces and nephews. She spread the dollars out and counted them, already imagining the things she could buy with the money.  Maybe she would even start saving up for a new bike or possibly a horse, she mused to herself before shaking the thought away. Nah, an unlimited supply of strawberry pop courtesy of Mr. Lytell’s store sounded much better.

Brian’s present was next. It showed his thoughtful side. He gave her five coupons that allowed her to have him take over her dishwashing chores, any time she wanted him to. Since her dislike of washing dishes was well-known in the family, mainly because she griped about it every single time it was her turn, she gave him an extra large hug.

“Thanks, Brian,” she said gratefully and looked back in the direction of the kitchen. She gave a dramatic shudder and shared in a loud stage-whisper, “I’m not sure if you know this but I really can’t stand washing dishes.”

“Maybe you could use your birthday money and start saving up for a dishwasher,” Mart suggested with an impish smile.

Helen grabbed the next present and handed it over quickly, before her almost-twins could engage in one of their famous verbal sparring matches. Then she frowned after she realized who the present was from. “This one’s from Aunt Alicia.” She bit the inside of her cheek, worried about the contents of the wrapped package. She hoped it was something Trixie would appreciate. “She mailed it since she wasn’t able to make it to your party.”

Trixie eyed the package as if it was a snake ready to strike out at her. Everyone in the room stopped moving as they all watched her gingerly accept the package. Grimacing, she carefully pulled the bright purple ribbon away, slid her fingers underneath the tape, all the while dreading what she would find inside. Anxiously, she took the top off the box, folded back the abundance of tissue paper, and took out its contents. Words were not needed. Her face said it all.

“It’s a dress!” Bobby shouted excitedly before remembering that boys didn’t like dresses. A look of confusion crossed his face. Turning to his mother, he pulled at her skirt and inquired, obviously puzzled,

“Why’d Trixie get a dress?”

“And it’s pink, too!” Mart sang out much more cheerfully than he should have. He gamely swallowed a chuckle, delighted with the gift and the fodder it would give him for further teasing. Bless Aunt Alicia. She never let him down. His mind was already singing with the various possibilities.

“A dress. A pink dress,” Helen muttered under her breath, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. One thing was certain. Alicia was nothing if not persistent. She tried to catch Peter’s gaze but he wouldn’t meet it. He was finding the floor much too interesting at the moment. She infused her voice with more enthusiasm than she felt and exclaimed, “Isn’t it lovely, Trixie?”

Just as she’d been taught to do, Trixie answered politely, “Yes, Moms. It is lovely. I really like it.” Then she put it on the cushion next to her where the article of clothing would hopefully get buried underneath wrapping paper and either forgotten or accidentally thrown out. It didn’t matter to her. She didn’t care either way.

The rest of the presents were from her parents. A new backpack for school since her old one had been torn well past repair, most likely from being carelessly tossed one too many times into the corner of her room. Her own alarm clock with its own radio so that she could start waking herself up in the mornings. And a collection of miniature horse figurines, the very ones she kept looking at in Crimpers’ during their various shopping trips into town. She picked up the small black mare, ran her finger down the mane, and thought how wonderful it would be to actually ride a horse like this one. Maybe she really should start saving up for one.

Mart waited until the last present was opened. “Oh, wait. I believe there is one more.” He reached behind his back. With a flourish, he offered over his handmade card. When she accepted it, he tugged at the curl that was forever falling over her forehead. “For you, my only sibling of the feminine variety. Please read it carefully. You should take notice that the offer has an expiration to it.”

Trixie hastily brushed back the curl, which promptly disobeyed her and ended up falling back across her forehead again. Blowing out a tiny breath, she opened the card from Mart, curious about what she would find. Her eyes skimmed the contents quickly. Glancing up, she giggled and asked, “Really?”

Mart winked back at her and rocked back on his heels, trying to look taller than he actually was. “Really,” was his response.

“What does it say?” Peter craned his neck in an attempt to read the card, curious himself about what Mart had written to Trixie.

Trixie placed the handmade card on top of the others. “Mart’s promised that he’ll do anything I ask him to do with me today.”

“But only for the rest of the day,” Mart was quick to add, wanting the time limit to be crystal clear. “My present will expire at precisely nine o’clock tonight.”

“And he also promises not to tease you or irritate you,” Brian added after reading the rest of the card. He nodded his head. Playing peacemaker between his two siblings was an exhausting job. He wouldn’t mind a break from it. Clapping his brother on the back, he complimented, “Mart, I’ve got to hand it to you. That present really takes the cake!”

“What are you going to do with Mart?” Helen wondered aloud, nodding her approval at her middle son for coming up with such a considerate present for his sister. It caught her off-guard. She’d never expected it of her middle son.

Trixie opened her mouth and blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “Fishing. I want Mart to take me fishing.” It was a pastime she enjoyed doing and yet her brothers never seemed to want her tagging along after them when they went on their fishing trips. In fact, they seemed to think of any possible excuse not to allow her to go with them. Fishing, she impulsively decided, would be the perfect way to spend the rest of her birthday afternoon.

As usual, Mart’s first instinct was to immediately deny the request. Fishing required a whole lot of quiet, a whole lot of patience, and their sister did not have a large supply of either one of those qualities. She chattered away constantly, asked tons of questions, and couldn’t stay still to save her life. To put it plainly, she was exasperating. He never caught anything when she was around. Never. Not one little nibble. But one look at the card in Brian’s hand, as well as the looks coming his way from their parents, made him agree without hesitation. “All right. Fishing it is,” he declared with a gallant bow and a wave of his hand. “I’ll even graciously allow our eldest sibling to join us for the upcoming expedition, too.”

Because her face lit up with unconcealed pleasure, Brian couldn’t turn down the invitation although he stepped on Mart’s foot again. Fishing with both Mart and Trixie was a tedious chore, one that strained the limits of his patience. “I can’t wait. We’ll have to get a few things ready for it, though.”

It was quickly decided that Brian would take Bobby out to dig for worms and Mart and their father would get the necessary equipment prepared. Once they were gone, Trixie pushed aside the dreaded dress and flopped down on the sofa. “Gleeps!” she exclaimed, happy with the unexpected turn of the events. A hand impatiently brushed back her curls. “I can’t believe they’re actually taking me fishing with them! It’s been so long since we’ve done something like that together.”

Helen smiled at her tomboy of a daughter. She carefully picked up the pink dress, wondered what on earth Alicia could possibly have been thinking when she bought it, and draped it carefully across the back of a chair. She’d make certain it found a place in Trixie’s closet where it would probably never, ever leave its hanger. “Wait a minute, Trixie,” she said and walked over to the closet door. “I have one more present for you.”

Interested, Trixie’s head popped up. She watched curiously as her mother opened the closet door and gasped at the sight of another present. This one was wrapped in her favorite color: blue. She accepted it immediately; didn’t waste a second after her mother’s nod of encouragement before tearing off the pretty paper. She lifted the top and eagerly reached inside, excited about what she would find.  Her fingers touched something that suspiciously felt like…“Books?” she wondered aloud before she could stop herself, her tone about as enthusiastic as it had been when she’d opened up her present from her Aunt Alicia.

Helen chuckled indulgently, taking no offense at Trixie’s lackluster response. She hadn’t expected anything less, not from her daughter. “These aren’t just any books.” She took one out herself and handed it over. “Here. Open this one up. You should read what it says on the inside cover.”

With more curiosity than she’d displayed earlier, Trixie opened the book. Her eyes immediately found the neat, precise handwriting that she recognized as her grandmother’s. “May your birthday be as wonderful as you are, Helen,” she read to herself, her lips moving quietly as she did so. Suddenly her eyes shot back up to her mother as understanding began to dawn.

“These were my books when I was a girl,” Helen shared quietly, smoothing a hand over her daughter’s soft, sandy-colored curls.  “My mother gave me the very first book in the series for my twelfth birthday. It seemed right that I continue this tradition with you.”

Trixie glanced down at the book in her hand with more interest. The books didn’t seem like such a boring gift any longer. “Lucy Radcliffe,” she murmured, tracing the name of the book with her finger.

“Oh, it’s an absolutely wonderful series, Trixie!” Helen exclaimed, dropping down next to Trixie and eagerly reaching into the box for another book. “You see, Lucy gets into all sorts of adventures and meets all these interesting people. She’s smart and sweet but also a little impetuous. She gets into some tight scrapes but somehow manages to find a way out of them. Everything always turns out all right in the end for her and her friends. I think you’re really going to enjoy reading them.”

Normally she wouldn’t use the words ‘enjoy’ and ‘reading’ in the same sentence. She much preferred to spend her time outdoors instead of in the house. But, since it obviously meant a lot to her mother, Trixie decided it was worth a shot. She’d read them…someday, when there wasn’t anything better to do. Because she recognized the sentimentality behind the gift, she went up on her knees, threw her arms around her mother and thanked her sincerely, “Thanks, Moms! I can’t wait to start reading them.”

“You’re very welcome.” Helen held on tight, grateful for the embrace. She’d already noticed that hugs from her older children were coming fewer and farther between. It made her heart hurt just a little. Since the amount of hugs were rapidly diminishing, she was determined to cherish each and every single one that came her way, especially when her children instigated them.

Their quiet mother-daughter moment were interrupted by a high-pitched screech, quickly followed by a crash of what had to be glass and a loud, ear-splitting wail that could only belong to one upset Robert Belden. Helen squeezed her eyes shut and slowly stood up, looking amazingly regal and composed considering the chaos she could hear erupting from the direction of her kitchen.  “I think I’d better see what’s happening,” she murmured and, with a decided purpose to her stride, marched off in the direction of the chaos, leaving Trixie alone in the living room.

Trixie flinched when she heard her father call out her two blonde-haired brothers’ names. Deciding she’d rather not be in the same vicinity from whatever was happening in the kitchen, she hurried out the front door and waited for Mart and Brian outside. She turned her face towards the path that lead up to the lake they’d be fishing at, and thought about the big, lonely and extremely empty house, just sitting right there on top of the hill. She allowed her mind to wander for a moment. Wouldn’t it be perfect if…

Mart blew out of the backdoor, calling an immediate halt to her thoughts. The door slipped out of his hands, to close behind him with a loud bang. He flinched at the sound of his father’s voice yelling at him to be gentler next time and sprinted towards Trixie, a Tupperware container in his hands. “I was able to save a good many of the worms from the crash heard ‘round the farmhouse,” he shared the second he reached her, out of breath. “Bobby confiscated the rest. It was the only way to calm him down after he dropped the glass jar. Moms and Dad are okay with it, though. The worms will keep him occupied while the three of us are up at the lake.”

Excited about the outing, Trixie started hopping impatiently from foot to foot. “Let’s go, Mart! I can’t wait to get going.”

“Slow down, squaw. Slow down.” Mart waved his hands, hoping to contain some of her boundless energy. “We’re waiting for our tardy brother to appear. I stayed behind to assist in wrangling up the worms. He’s retrieving the rest of the necessary equipment for our fishing expedition now.”

Both her eyebrows shot up.  She’d noticed over the past few weeks that her almost-twin seemed to be using more and more complicated words. She didn’t have any trouble understanding them…yet. But she feared that he was still in the experimental stages and hadn’t quite perfected his new hobby yet. When Brian appeared with a tackle box in one hand and three fishing poles in the other, she grabbed Mart’s arm and began jumping up and down again.

“There he is now, Mart. There he is! We can finally go!”

“Careful, Trix,” he advised, remembering at the last moment to temper his voice. It was her birthday, after all. He switched the container of worms over to his other hand. “Bobby’s already taken care of a good portion of the bait. You don’t want to spill the rest of it or we won’t have much left to fish with.”

When Brian joined them, Trixie accepted her pole with the biggest, widest grin on her face. Her heart felt as happy and light as the warm spring air. With an extra spring to her step, she tripped along at her brother’s heels, her fishing pole swinging behind her in a rhythm that matched her buoyantly bouncing curls perfectly. Adventure. There was nothing she liked better. And she definitely considered an afternoon of fishing with her brothers an adventure. She shot a glance first at one brother, then at the other. They may not be the best friend she’d wished for but, she had to admit to herself, they were rather nice to be around…some of the time, she corrected with an inward chuckle after giving Mart an appraising look. It was definitely turning out to be a pretty happy birthday for her, even if one of her presents had been a frilly pink dress.

“And I didn’t catch a single fish,” Mart said with mock disgust.  “Skunked! Thanks to Noisy-Nellie here.”

Trixie's eyes narrowed. "You haven't changed a bit! I'd think after all of these years you would have matured at least a little bit."

"Not on your life - Pixie Trixie!" Mart threw the towel back at her and it landed covering her head.

"Oh! You!" Trixie began with fire in her eyes.

"Guys, cut it out," Brian sighed, wishing that one day he would be able to be in their presence without having to say those words.

"HEY!! It's MY birthday! I want to celebrate!" Bobby wailed.

"Yeah, and I want to be an only child!" Trixie huffed.

"I just wish Moms and Dad had stopped after two kids," Mart informed her.

"I wish they'd stopped at one. It all went downhill from there," Brian grumbled, heading into the kitchen for some breakfast.

"HEY! It's MY day! I want to PLAY!" Bobby stomped his foot to emphasize his frustration with his older siblings.

"Sure, Bobby, but first I have to get a shower. Then, I'll play with you," Trixie smiled, gently patting his head.

Bobby scowled and turned mutinous eyes on Mart. Trixie left the room hiding her smile behind her wayward hair. Mart sighed and looked at Brian who was working on fixing scrambled eggs. No recourse there. Turning back to have a stare down with Bobby, Mart couldn't help but secretly marvel at how much Bobby had grown up in the past two years. Clamping down on sentimental thoughts that should never take place in his head, Mart shifted his position and willingly blinked.

"I won!" Bobby crowed.

"So you did, young master Robert. What would you like to do now?" Mart inquired.

Bobby stared off thoughtfully into space and contemplated what he wanted to do. "Let's go visit Dan," Bobby grinned, knowing his brother would rather go visit the Lynches and ditch him with the twins for some alone time with Di.

Suppressing a sigh, Mart nodded his head. "Let's eat and then we'll walk to visit Dan and Mr. Maypenny."

After they finished their eggs and waffles breakfast and brushed their teeth, Bobby and Mart set off along the trail.

"Why do you want to go see Dan?" Mart couldn't resist asking.

"Just do," Bobby grinned mischievously.

"I figured you would rather spend the day with the Lynch twins so you could have fun with guys your own age," Mart suggested.

"No way! That would give you a chance to make out with Di and that is not what my birthday is all about!" Bobby huffily stated.

Mart rolled his eyes and looked forward to dumping his young charge on Dan so he could sprint across the woods and do exactly what he wanted without Bobby hindering him. While coming home for his brother's birthday had been mandatory, that didn't mean Mart didn't intend to spend it having fun with Di. Spotting their friend chopping wood, Mart whistled the Bob-White signal and watched as Dan set the ax down and waved at them.

"What are you two doing up and about so early?" Dan joked.

"It's MY TWELFTH birthday!" Bobby proudly told him.

"Is that so? Well, what are you doing out here with me when you could be spending it with some cute girls instead?" Dan asked.

"Girls have cooties," Bobby disgustedly informed him with a smidgen of conflicting interest.

Dan and Mart hooted with laughter. "That they do, Bobby, that they do," Dan acknowledged.

Jerking his thumb, Bobby pointed to Mart. "Look at him. He's lost tons of brain cells since he started chasing Di's skirt."

"Bobby!" Mart roared. "Where did you hear such a disgraceful phrase?"

Bobby smiled angelically. "From Dan," he shrugged.

Murderous blue eyes turned to glare at Dan. "Hey, you have. Can't blame a guy for stating the truth. Since you started,” Dan paused to fake cough, “dating your fair Diana, you can't seem to recall anytime we make plans these days." Dan pinned his longtime friend with a glare. "I ended up playing monopoly with your folks and Bobby the last time we were home because you forgot that we were supposed to go to the monster truck rally."

Mart had the decency to look sheepish. "How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"

"One for every time you kissed your 'raven haired maiden' that night," Dan grinned.

"Go to -"

"The woodshed? With you? No thanks! I've had way better offers!" Dan sneakily altered Mart's choice of words, knowing full well that little ears would report back any odd things said.

Mart smiled gratefully at Dan and ran a hand through his short blond hair. "Funny, so have I," he murmured absent-mindedly. 

"Hey! Let's do something fun!" Bobby complained, not caring about woodsheds.

Mart groaned. "Do you know how many times I've already heard that this morning?"

"Enough to make you want to bash your head in?" Jim jokingly questioned, coming up behind them on the path.

"More than enough," Mart grumbled. Noticing Bobby brighten at Jim's appearance, Mart suddenly thought of an idea. "Say, Jim, young master Robert here was complaining that he wanted to do something fun. Maybe you could rig up an outside shower for him again so he and Reddy can play? He broke the old one."

A grimace briefly passed over Jim's face before he gamely smiled. "Sure Mart. I'd be happy to."

"Yes! Come on Jim! You can tell me about your 12th birthday.  Did you know Aunt Alicia gave Trixie a dress for hers?  A PINK dress!"

“Twelve was a long time ago, Bobster,” Jim replied, sharing a look with Dan.

“How about tonight?” Mart suggested.  “After dinner we can all reminisce about the celebrations of our respective twelfth years.”

“All right!” Bobby squealed and charged ahead down the path.

"Smooth, Belden, real smooth," Jim growled.  His eyes promised revenge before he took off after Bobby.

Dan frowned. "Way to go, Mart,” he muttered. “That probably wasn’t your best idea.”  At Mart’s blank look, he elaborated, “Not all of us had ideal childhoods. Do you get my drift?"

Realization dawned.  “Ah, crap,” Mart groaned.  “I wasn’t thinking.  No wonder Jim was shooting dagger-eyes at me.”  He clapped his friend on the shoulder.  “Don’t worry,” he assured him.  “I’ll think of something to distract him.”

“You usually do.”  Dan’s frowned was replaced with a slow smile.  “Since you cleverly got rid of the birthday boy, do you want to hang out?  I could take a break.  We could watch the NASCAR races.”

"No way! You are not the person I want to hang out with!" Mart called over his shoulder as he took off through the woods toward Di's.

Shaking his head, Dan resumed chopping wood. As he paused to take a sip from his water bottle, he couldn't help remembering his twelfth birthday.

Eleven year old Dan Mangan shuffled towards home. The school day had dragged endlessly and he had been sent to the principal’s office for not paying attention. Principal Snyder just sighed when she saw Dan sitting out there again. One more note for his mother to sign.

Dan didn’t care so much about being in trouble. But he knew it would disappoint his mother, and he hated doing that. He seemed to be doing it a lot lately. School was so boring and the room stifling hot, not that summer was rapidly approaching in New York.

Susie Davenport had smiled at him today, making him feel weird and itchy. She was kind of pretty this year, he thought. He had never really noticed her eyes, big and green and luminous before. For being a girl, she wasn’t so bad. He decided he really liked the big green eyes. They weren’t the same as his mother’s dark, sad green eyes at all.

A bus rolled by, chugging out its exhaust. He shifted his worn backpack from one shoulder to the other, steps slowing as he approached the crumbling front of the apartment complex.

Someday, he thought, he’d have a nice big house to live in, with a yawn. His wife would have to be pretty, and a good cook. He couldn’t quite imagine kids, but the house, for certain. With a room for his mother too. He longed for a big family, wishing he had cousins to play with. There wasn’t much time for play these days. When he wasn’t struggling with homework, he was on his paper route or collecting cans to trade in.

Homework bored him as much as school did. He was a surprisingly fast reader, and given an interesting subject, could tear through books well ahead of his sixth grade class. But the rest of it bored him to pieces.

He saw a group of three teenagers up ahead, and ducked around the building to the back entrance. They were in a gang, wearing black leather jackets and roughing up smaller kids for any potential cash they might have. Dan hated this neighborhood. Never enough police around when you needed or wanted them, and too many when you didn’t. And he knew the boys. They had been nice boys once, but joined the gangs for survival. Dan hoped he never reached that point.

It was only Tuesday, so he couldn’t go to the Y. He loved it there after school, playing basketball with Maurice, the retired basketball coach who devoted his retirement to the city’s youth. Dan liked hanging out there but his assigned basketball team met Mondays and Wednesday. Maurice had been out sick yesterday, so he’d have to wait until tomorrow to see him. Dan wouldn’t admit how much of a father Maurice was to him.

Maurice had been in World War II, part of the Allies that helped end it. In a tiny office in the Y, his walls held a bullet torn American flag, and black and white pictures of him with his pals, all in uniform. He was a tall man of over six feet, and still walked with the authority of the colonel rank he had proudly born. His hair was salt and pepper, his skin dark and leathered from years of sun and smoking. But his eyes and voice were still sharp, his frame still strong and wiry, and he didn’t take guff from the boys and girls who came to the Y. Just last week he had walked right up to a tall boy in a leather jacket, taken the cigarette out of his mouth, and invited the youth inside.

When the boy laughed and insulted him, the former Army colonel picked the boy up and dragged him off the Y property, while lecturing him about manners. It was an impressive display that Dan worried would come back to haunt Maurice. The gang boys carried switchblades.

Coming up to the back steps of the apartment complex, he used his key to let himself in, and closed it quickly behind him. He really didn’t like those gang members hanging out in front of his complex, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He was short and scrawny and unarmed.

His mother assured him he’d be tall like his Dad, but Dan barely remembered him. He had been drafted into the Army to go to Vietnam, and never came back. Dan didn’t remember the men who came to the house in uniform, he only remembered his mother screaming and crying and clutching a piece of paper. They had married young, had Dan, and shortly after, off went Private Timothy Mangan to serve his country.

Dan pushed the memory from his mind. His birthday was tomorrow and if his mother saw any unhappiness, she would think it was because she couldn’t afford to give him nice things. And he hated it when she got into that mood. He didn’t care about the presents. Sure, it’d be nice to have those new fancy sneakers, but he’d settle just for seeing his mom smile all day without the worry of money hanging over her head.

He unlocked the door to his apartment and shut it behind him, being sure to set all of the deadbolts he had unlocked.

“Mom? I’m home,” called, setting his backpack down. His letter from the principal burned in his pocket.

“In here,” she called.

She was sitting at the table in the tiny kitchen. She had a plate with three cookies out and a glass of milk.

Dan almost protested he was too old for milk and cookies but he didn’t. He really did love cookies. He sat across from her, wincing at the ricketyness of the table. She was surrounded by papers.

“What’s all that?” he asked.

“Just bills.” She smiled at him, her dark green eyes tired.

He didn’t like how she had lost weight recently, her red hair didn’t seem as bright, and the circles under her eyes looked like bruises. Colleen Mangan had never been a solidly built woman but now she looked just frail.

“You feeling all right?” he asked, taking a cookie.

She nodded, but the pinching between her eyes told him she was lying.

“Just a little rundown. Work was rough today.”

She worked at the laundry down the street. Long hours, crap pay, but it was the best she could find for someone with little education that gave her most afternoons home when Dan got home from school. Most weeks there was a little overtime to be had.

“How was school?”

Dan winced. “It was all right.”

She raised one eyebrow.

Dan sighed and reached into his pocket, sliding the note to her, and hating the look of dismay on her face.

“Dan,” she said sadly.

Dan looked out the window. There wasn’t much to see, a bit of the street, mostly the brick wall across the way.

“It ain’t my fault she’s so boring!”

“Don’t say ain’t,” Colleen corrected him. “I really wish you’d pay attention in class, Dan. This is the third note this month.”

Dan looked down. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll try harder.”

She smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Mom, why don’t you go lie down? I’ll fix dinner.” Which meant peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“In a minute. I need to finish reading these. Why don’t you start your homework?”

Dan groaned but got up to get his bag.

Well, at least he wasn’t bringing home another note from the principal, Dan thought heavily, as he walked home from school the following afternoon. The F on the social studies though was a real bummer. He had studied. Well, he tried to study, anyway. There were just so many more interesting things to capture his mind. Like the posters in the classroom of other places. Germany. England. The Soviet Union. Washington DC. Atlanta, Georgia. Los Angeles, California and Hollywood. Interesting places he wanted to see.

Maurice would be disappointed too in his grade, and Dan scuffed his shoes on the walk. Maurice talked frequently about the importance of school and college and education. Sometimes Dan tuned him out, but sometimes, he listened. He wanted to visit far off places. See the country. Do something important.

Reaching the Y, he was sorely disappointed to learn his class was canceled again. With a heavy sigh he headed for home. He hadn’t a birthday since he was really small, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t have many friends. But he did hope for a cake. Mom always managed to bake him a cake and cover with a thick layer of frosting.

She had already been off to work when he got up, but that was normal. He was worried about her sleeping; he was sure he had heard her pacing last night. There was an awful lot of mail lately. Dan wondered how bad the bills were and if he could sneak a look at them. Mom always told him to keep his can money but if he could help…

He hurried into his building and up the stairs to their apartment. It was very quiet. That was good, he thought. Maybe he could find those bills. The hall was its usual combination of smells, cooking food, cigarettes, beer and other things Dan didn’t want to think about. There was a lingering scent of sausage in the hallway that never really seemed to go away.

When he unlocked the door to the apartment, he was greeted with the sweet smell of cake.

“Happy birthday!” his mother and Maurice chimed.

Dan’s eye slit up when he saw the cake, and who was there.

“But class—”

“I canceled to spend the evening with you and your mom,” Maurice said. His tone was upbeat and he smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, where a bit of sadness lingered. Dan ignored it and hugged his mentor.

“I got home a little early to make you a cake,” Colleen smiled at her only child.

“And I got you something. Can’t have a birthday without something special,” Maurice tousled Dan’s dark hair.

“Oh, wow!” Dan dumped his backpack next to the chair, the F grade forgotten as he sat down with the brightly colored wrapped package. “Can I open it now?” he asked eagerly.

“Of course. No sense in waiting,” Maurice beamed.

Dan tore into it with the enthusiasm of a typical twelve-year-old boy and let out an exclamation of joy. Staring up at him from a box were a pair of the brand new sneakers he had been wanting.

“Maurice, these are so awesome, thank you!” He set them down and hugged the older man tightly, then turned to his mom.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Colleen Mangan hugged her son and kissed the top of his dark head, hoping the tears in her eyes would be mistaken for happiness.

Six months later, she was gone.  Brushing aside a wayward tear and blaming it on sweat, Dan hoped Bobby had the best twelfth birthday ever.

Down at Crabapple Farm, Jim was hoping the same thing. He had quickly rigged up another outside shower for the youngest Belden and was casually keeping an eye on him from a distance. Bobby danced in and out of the water with Reddy slowly following suit. Jim wondered what tales Reddy could tell since he'd been with the Belden family for years. Was Trixie as rambunctious as this on her twelfth birthday? What about Brian and Mart? Dan had once shared some of his childhood memories, so Jim had a pretty good idea how his birthday had been spent. It was his own twelfth birthday that made him sigh.

Jonesy was watching him again, the murky dark eyes glaring suspiciously across the table as Jim ate his waffles and sausage.  Katie Jones returned to the table, and the glare disappeared, replaced by a smile that should have appeared benign but only managed to look…creepy.

“Your step-father and I want you to take the day off, Jimmy,” Katie told her son, brushing back his hair with one gaunt hand.  “I know how much you love the woods, and I…we thought you should have some time to yourself on your birthday—no chores.  Just fun.  I’ve packed you a lunch.  All your favorites.”

“Thank you, Mama,” Jim answered, plastering a big smile on his face.  “That sounds like fun.  Do you want to come with me?”

She smiled a little sadly.  “No, thank you, my sweet boy.  I’m going to stay here and make sure we have all of your favorites for dinner. It’s not every day my son turns twelve.”

“Don’t you overdo it, Kate,” Jonesy said, pinning Jim with a glare.

“I’ll be fine, dear,” she replied.  “Run along, Jimmy.  Enjoy your day.”

“I will.  Thanks.”  Jim cleared his plate over his mother’s protest, grabbed the paper lunch sack off the counter and escaped outside.

Once he made the woods surrounding the truck farm he could breath easier.  The familiar fragrence of leaves and grass were comforting. A tangible memory of better days.

Jonesy didn’t smoke in the house.  That was a concession he made for Jim’s mother.  His foul hand rolled butts made her cough.  The scent though, it lingered on every part of the man.  Shaking his head, Jim concentrated on meandering through the wood, taking in the animals and plants and enjoying his freedom.

When his stomach began to grumble, he found a perch on a fallen tree near the trickle of a run-off stream.  Opening his bag, he felt a rush of tears.  Two sandwiches:  Ham and Swiss with mustard and pickles; Turkey and cheddar with cream cheese and cranberry sauce. Unwrapping the ham sandwich, he took a huge bite.  A rush of memories overtook him:  He and his dad riding Midnight around their farm in Rochester.  His tenth birthday, when he and his dad went hiking in the woods, trying to spy as many different birds for their marking charts as possible. They had stopped in a shady spot to eat their sandwiches and talk.

He missed the talking.  Jonesy rarely spoke to him except to bark an order or mutter a criticism.

Twelve.  Jim shook his head.  Twelve was the age when his dad was going to buy him his own shotgun.  Jim already knew how to shoot.  He’d been doing that since he was eight, and he was pretty good at it, too—even though he preferred watching the animals to hunting them.  Being in the woods made him happy, but it also made him sad.  The woods reminded him of his dad, and he missed his father with every fiber of his being. He finished his sandwich and unwrapped the turkey.  Dad’s favorite. Jim ate half of it. Using a rock, he dug a shallow hole and cradled the remaining half in it.  Walking away, he concealed himself and watched as small critters tentatively came forth to investigate.

The sun was beginning to set by the time Jim ceased his wanderings and returned to the house.  It was always the house; never home, despite his mother’s best efforts.  As he reached the front steps, a rough hand landed on his shoulder.

“Your mama’s been wearing herself out cooking for you, boy,” Jonesy growled. “You’d best appreciate it.”

Anger flared.  “I always appreciate Mama…sir.”  Jim made it a point to always refer to his stepfather as sir.  Spoken with as much sarcasm and disdain as he could muster.

Jonesy glowered at him, but only said, “See that you do, boy.”  The ‘boy’ was spoken with as much disdain as Jim’s ‘sir’ had been.

Jim went inside to clean up. When he returned to the kitchen, his mother was carrying food outside.  Jim took the platter from her and she touched his cheek.  “I thought we’d have a picnic, Jimmy,” she told him.  “Like we used to.”

It was on the tip of Jim’s tongue to mention that it wouldn’t be the same without Dad, but Jonesy’s words mad him look closely at his mother.  She did look exhausted.  Instead, he smiled.  “Thanks, Mama,” he said, sniffing deeply.  “Fried chicken!  My favorite.”

I made all your favorites, my sweet boy,” she told him.  “All of them.”

She had, and they were absolutely delicious. Even with Jonesy and his creepy face looking at him, Jim had stuffed himself.

After he finished his enormous slice of cake, Katie said, “Time for presents!”

Jonesy rose from his seat and disappeared into the house.  He returned, carrying three brightly wrapped packages. “These two are from your mother,” he said tersely, handing Jim a long box and a smaller square one. “This one’s from me.” He held out a flat package that squished when Jim took it.

“Thank you,” Jim said a little warily.  “I’ll open it first.”  Tearing off the paper revealed a pair of heavy-duty work gloves.  Jim looked at them.  “Thank you, sir,” he said.  “These will come in handy.”

“That’s what I thought.  Good for hoeing, they are.”  Jonesy sneered in what Jim thought was supposed to be a smile.  It sent chills down Jim’s spine.

Turning his attention to the smaller box, Jim opened it to reveal a silver men’s watch. “It was your father’s,” Katie told him.  “You’re almost a man, now.  A watch is a good thing to have.”

Jim nodded, forcing back the tears that threatened to choke him.  “Thanks, Mama.”  He strapped the watch to his left wrist and opened the last package.

He gasped.  A shotgun.  His hand smoothed the dark wood, as he looked up at his mother.  “Really?” he asked.

“I know your father promised he’d get you one for your twelfth birthday,” she said. “This one was his, as I’m sure you know.  I think he’d be happy for you to have it today.”

“Oh, Mama.”  Jim set the gun down carefully and moved to his mother, throwing his arms around her, trying to ignore the bird-like frailness of her frame. “Thank you, so much.  I love you.”

“And I love you, my sweet boy.”  Katie touched his face.  “Did you have a good birthday?”

Jim saw the hope and need in her blue eyes, and he lied.  “The best, Mama. The best.”

“I’m so glad,” she whispered. She looked towards Jonesy, and in an instant he was next to her.  “I’m a little tired,” Katie said.  “I think Ill go up to bed, if you don’t mind.”

“Sleep well, Mama,” Jim said, kissing her cheek and stepping back so Jonesy could lift her into his arms. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” she replied weakly. 

And then they were gone. Eight weeks later, she was dead and  Jim was left wondering if his birthday had cost her the last of her strength.

Hearing Trixie calling his name, Jim shook off his reverie and focused on the present.

"Hey," she greeted him somewhat shyly.

It was so out of character for the young woman he knew, Jim couldn't resist a light kiss on her forehead. "Hey yourself, sunshine."

"I see Bobby snookered you into building him a new shower," she laughed, relaxing.

"More like Mart did," Jim snorted. "I have a feeling he had other things on his mind. Things that didn’t involve the little horrorcane."

"So do I," she sighed.

"Poor Bobby. You older Beldens are always trying to ditch him on someone else," Jim whispered in her ear.

"Fiddlesticks, not all of the time," Trixie argued.

"HEY! I don't want to witness any PADs on my birthday!" Bobby shouted, shaking a finger at them.

"It's PDAs squirt! And get over it!" Trixie yelled back.

"No it ain't!" Bobby huffed. "Last night, Moms said -"

"Can it!" Trixie hissed, her face flaming bright red.

Jim coughed to cover his laugh.

Bobby continued, “Trixie!  Jim and Dan are going to tell me about when they turned 12.  Won’t that be fun?”

“I have to go,” Jim said, walking toward the Manor House path. "I need to get back and see if Honey’s ready for the party."

Trixie groaned. "You're deserting me? I may just die!"

"Trixie, I think you'll live," Jim winked and gave her a short kiss as a peace offering.

"I hope you're right," she mumbled as she watched his retreating back.

"So do I," Brian agreed from the patio, causing Trixie to turn around with a squeal.

"How long have you been there?" Trixie demanded.

"He's been there the entire time, Trixie! Don't you ever pay attention? Some detective you’ll make!" Bobby sighed. As Reddy shook the water off of his coat, Bobby hooted with laughter. "Do it again, Reddy!"

"Yeah, Trixie, I've been here the entire time," Brian smiled.

"Jerk," she said lightly punching him in the arm.

"I'm the good brother, remember?" Brian laughed.

"No, you're the lesser of three evils," Trixie responded and stuck out her tongue. Sobering, she said, “Bobby expects Jim and Dan to talk about their twelfth birthdays.  You know that could be hard on them: Both of them. “

"They can handle it," Brian commented, his gaze pensive.  “If we need to, we’ll redirect.  Bobby might be twelve, but he’s still distractible.

"We can turn him on to Mart's," Trixie pointed out. “That birthday is always good for a giggle.”

"Speaking of Mart, I think we've been nice long enough, don't you?" Brian devilishly grinned.

"More than long enough!" Trixie agreed, glancing over at Bobby.

Brian nodded; they were thinking the same thing. "Bobby, come here for a minute," Brian instructed.

Growing bored with the shower, Bobby was more than happy to oblige his eldest brother's request. "What's up, Brian?"

"Want to do something ornery?" Trixie inquired innocently.

"Yeah!" Bobby enthusiastically agreed.

"What would you say if we offered to walk you over to the Lynch's house for some fun?" Brian offered.

Bobby's eyes widened as he realized what his siblings were offering. "Dude! I'm in!" Bobby pledged.

Trixie quickly got up and grabbed their mother's watering can. She filled it with ice cold water from the outside spigot and then gave it to Brian.

"Why can't I carry it?" Bobby whined.

"Brian is the least likely out of all three of us to spill the water. He'll carry it, but you get to do the honors of dumping it on Mart," Trixie soothed.

"Awesome!" Bobby giggled.

"Shhh!" Trixie warned as they drew closer to the Lynch estate.

Bobby nodded his understanding and Brian gave him the watering can. "They're over by the swing set," Brian carefully whispered.

Trixie covered her mouth with her hand to prevent giggles similar to Bobby's from pouring out.

With a wicked gleam in his eye, Bobby quietly walked the distance to the swing set and dumped the contents of the watering can all over Mart and splashed some on Di. "I thought you two might need some cooling off!" Knowing that Mart would recover quickly, Bobby hurriedly dropped the can, and took off into the woods with surprising speed.  He blew past Brian and Trixie who were crouched down behind a large tree. Brian and Trixie shrugged at each other before making their own mad dash through the forest.

"You brat!!" Mart yelled, chasing after them.

Slightly wet, Di picked up the watering can and carried it into the house with her. She'd return it at Bobby's party tonight. With both sets of twins in town with their parents picking out a gift for Bobby's party, Di was left alone with her musings. A small smile filtered across her lips as she remembered her own twelfth birthday. The excitement over almost being a teenager was a one of a kind feeling.

“Penny for your thoughts, Di,” Trixie’s voice startled her.

Diana turned to Trixie and smiled,   “How can it be that Bobby is turning twelve now?  Next it will be my brothers, then my sisters!  I know I’m not ready for that and I bet my parents aren’t either.”

Trixie turned toward Diana “I know, it just doesn’t seem right, in fact I thought he would be six forever!”

Diana giggled, “It seems so long ago when we turned twelve.  So much has changed, I don’t know if you remember, but I was pretty miserable around that age”.

“I do remember Di, thank goodness those days are over. Wasn’t that right after your Dad made all his money and you all moved out of that cozy apartment into your house?”

Di nodded her head, with a melancholy note in her voice she simply said  “Yes.”

Trixie reached out and wrapped her arm around her friend and squeezed.

“I remember my twelfth birthday pretty clearly” Diana went on in a quiet voice.  “Mummy and Daddy tried so hard to make it a special day…and it was, but just not what I really wanted to do.”

“Tell me.” Trixie said, keeping her arm around her friend.

Diana took in a deep breath and released it.  “Oh Trixie, I don’t want to tell you sad stuff, it doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me Diana, I really want to hear it.” 

“It just sounds like poor little rich girl.”

“Not from you.” Trixie said smiling at her.  “You never were that girl, but I do remember right before your imposter uncle came you were pretty quiet at school and kept to yourself.  Honey noticed and brought it up, but thinking back before that summer we found Jim and started our adventures and our club, you weren’t the happy girl you used to be when we were in elementary school.”

“Yeah, things changed when Daddy made his money, but it wasn’t his fault, it just happened so quickly and Mummy and Daddy didn’t know how to act, neither did I.  We were all just trying to do what we thought you did when you got rich.  You moved to a big house and got servants.  Remember that awful Harrison and the nannies for the twins?”

“How could I forget”?  Trixie giggled.

Diana giggled back.  “I know, he was horrible wasn’t he? The others are all gone, but for my birthday that year they were all still there.”  I always hated that my birthday was in the summer so I couldn’t have class parties, but this time I was happy that no one would be there.”

“Why Di, what happened?”

“Well, I woke up that morning, got dressed and headed down to breakfast, it was a Saturday so Daddy was home and I was glad.  We all met in the formal dining room and by my plate there were all these gifts.  I sat down and all the servants came in and everyone sang Happy Birthday.”  So formal.  It just seemed sad to me somehow that people were paid to wish me happy birthday.”

“Diana surely they didn’t mean to hurt your feelings!”  Trixie’s blue eyes filled with tears.

“Oh no Trix, it wasn’t that, I had just wanted it to be family and it wasn’t.  Or it was, but with all the extras, you understand.  I wanted it to be me and Mummy and Daddy and the twins, hanging in the kitchen and fixing pancakes like we used to, but it was so formal.  Not my idea of a family breakfast at all.  We had pancakes, but they were cooked by the cook and served by the maid.  It wasn’t the same.  Anyway, I opened my gifts and before I had time to thank everyone the twins were whisked back upstairs to their nurseries and it was just me and Mummy and Daddy finishing alone.”

“After breakfast Mummy told me that we were going shopping, just the two of us.  It was really nice, we went to Crimpers and she bought me some new dresses for school and some shoes that were really cute, but when we came out with the packages, there was the Limo.  It seemed so over the top.  I missed me and Mummy shopping and trying to keep the twins out of trouble and all loading in the car to get home; laughing and usually singing some silly kids song.  I always liked helping Mommy keep them entertained.”

Trixie nodded her head, “I know what you mean, Bobby used to drive me crazy, but he really was so cute and said such funny things, I fussed about it but really didn’t mind when I helped take care of him when her was younger.”

“Exactly.” Diana said.  “I felt the same way, but with the Nannies, it wasn’t easy to even get to see them.  They were at the table for the early meals, and then paraded by before their bedtime to give out goodnight kisses.  I really missed them then.”

“Anyway, the best thing that did happen on my birthday was that Mummy, Daddy, my brothers, my sisters and I did go to the Bluff Park near the river and have a family picnic that afternoon; just the seven of us.  It was like old times, Mummy and I singing silly songs to the kids and Daddy pulling all this great food out of the picnic basket and making a production of the meal.  He was so happy, laughing and jolly, he kept slipping up to Mummy and giving her little kisses.  She giggled like a girl.  I decided that day, that I want to fall in love like that. “ She stopped and blushed.

Trixie seeing her blush smiled.  “I think you will have that kind of love Diana, and I think you know it.”

“You’re right, I do know it.”  Glancing at Trixie from under her long lashes, Diana smiled.  Pausing for a second and then taking a deep breath she continued.  “After we ate, Daddy and I went to the swings and sat and talked for a while, he told me that he understood that I had given up a lot when our money situation changed and that he was proud of me for making the best of it.  I didn’t have much to say then, what could I say…make it all go back?  No I just listened.  After awhile we went back home and all watched a Disney movie.  See…boring right?”

“Not boring at all.” Trixie said.  “I think it was great of your parents to try and make it a day like the ones you missed from before.  I have always loved your parents, they are so sweet and caring and this just makes me realize it more.  You are really lucky.”

“I am really lucky, I couldn’t agree with your more about that, but I do have to admit, that those years weren’t easy ones for me and that was without the usual teenage angst.  There were so many changes and I had so much resentment.  You have no idea how much the Bob Whites saved me that next year.  I don’t even want to think of how unhappy I would have been if you and Honey and the boys hadn’t come into my life.  You threw me a lifeline and I grabbed it.  Thank you Trixie.”

Trixie turned and wrapped her other arm around Diana and hugged her tight.  “I think the Bob Whites saved us all,” she whispered in her ear.  “Where would any of us have been with out each other?  We are all so lucky!”

Running along the path, Bobby didn't notice anyone else on it until he crashed into a pair of legs. Falling backwards, Bobby's eyes widened as he finally began to understand his brothers' comments about a girl wearing a skirt.

Honey hastily sat up and arranged her skirt modestly. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Bobby smiled still stymied by what he'd seen.

"Good! We wouldn't want the birthday boy injured for the party tonight," she winked.

"No," Bobby dumbly shook his head. Hearing footsteps crashing through the brush several yards to his right, Bobby hopped onto his feet. "I’ve got to go see Regan! I’ll head home for a snack after I visit him. Hey! Honey, tonight you can tell me about your twelfth birthday.  Trixie got a pink dress for hers!" He scrambled away leaving Honey in a trail of dust.

"What a kid," Honey mumbled to herself while shaking her head. Watching him as he hurried up the hill toward the Manor House, she was surprised when memories of her own twelfth birthday came to mind. What a birthday that had been. 

Her brother’s voice echoed through the trees, calling her name.  Pushing memories of the past to the back of her mind, Honey called back, “Coming, Jim!” and headed off to intercept him.

Spotting his mother's car pulling into Crabapple Farm's driveway, Bobby came to a skidding halt and decided to detour from his intent on getting a snack. He scrambled back down the hill and stopped short of colliding with the car door.

"Bobby! Where on earth have you been?" she questioned after seeing how dirty he was.

"Um, here and there," he vaguely replied. "What's my cake look like?" he excitedly asked. “Where did you hide it?

"It's a surprise! You aren't allowed to see it," Mrs. Belden shared.

"Not even a peek?" Bobby asked incredulously.

“Not one.” Helen smiled indulgently at her youngest. “Now go get cleaned up.  Take a shower and put on clean clothes, please. Our guests will be here soon and you, my young guest-of-honor look as if you’ve been rolling in a pig-pen.”

Bobby grinned and rolled his eyes.  “Yes, Moms,” he drawled and dashed into the house, leaving his mother rolling her own blue eyes and wondering where the years had gone.

Dinner—a raucous meal of grilled burgers and hot dogs, potato salad, baked beans and assorted garden grown fruits and vegetables—was over.  Presents had been opened and admired, and Bobby and the Lynch twins had taken the radio controlled racing cars for a test drive, using them to chase each other around the yard.  Now, tired and glowing, the younger five dropped at the feet of their older siblings and friends, looking at them expectantly.

“Story time!” Bobby announced gleefully.  “Trixie.  You start.  Tell us about your twelfth birthday.”

“You already heard that story,” his sister protested.

“But they didn’t,” he pointed out, widening his blue eyes and giving her an imploring look.  “Please?”

“Fine,” Trixie huffed, “but only because it’s your birthday.”  Quickly she retold a slightly abbreviated version, joining the laughter over the pink dress.  “But,” she added, giving her mother a loving glance, “it was the beginning of my love for Lucy Radcliffe books.  Thanks, Moms.”

“You’re welcome,” Helen said with a smile.

“Enough sappy stuff!” Bobby complained.  “Next story.  Di?”

Diana smiled at him.  “I spent the day with my family,” she said. “We went out to Bluff Park and had a picnic.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” she replied with a soft smile, reaching down to ruffle Terry’s hair.  “It was lovely.”

“Oookay.”  Bobby looked at Jim.  “How about you?”

Jim went for simple.  “I spent the day exploring the woods, and my mom made me all of my favorite foods.  Waffles and sausage for breakfast, fried chicken for dinner.  We ate outside, like a picnic, and she made me carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.  It was nice.”

“I like exploring,” Bobby admitted.  “How about you, Dan?  What did you do?

Dan swallowed hard.  “Well,” he said, “I was living in the City then, and it was kind of winter, so I didn’t get to explore much.  My mom and I didn’t have a lot of money, but I remember that she left work early on my birthday so she could make me a cake.  It was good, and I got a pair of really, really cool sneakers that I had wanted for a while.”  He shrugged.  “That’s it.”

“Sneakers are good,” Bobby said, looking at his own brand new pair.  “Your turn, Honey.”

She smiled, a far off look in her hazel eyes. “It was a hot day in July. It wasn’t the first birthday I had ever spent at summer camp, but it was shaping up to be the worst. The infirmary is not a great place to wake up on the morning of your twelfth birthday, and Nurse Dennison’s face is not a great one to wake up to.”

“Well, you know before I came here I was frail and sickly and fragile. So in the infirmary I lay, and there I received my first present: a handful of Vitamin C and some orange juice delivered by Nurse Ratchet… I mean, Dennison. Then she took my temperature and roughly tucked me back into bed like a lukewarm and unloved microwave bean burrito. Sometime later, Cassie, the girl who usually delivered mail to the nurses’ station, came in, and I just knew that she’d bring me my birthday present from Mother and Daddy.

She stepped up beside the bed and handed me a stack of cards, but nothing from my parents. Aunt Lydia had sent me a card and so had Grandmother Hart. There was a third from Daddy’s second cousin that seems to live for the express purpose of sending puppy dog cards for birthdays. Cassie wished me a ‘Happy Birthday!’ and walked out.”

“That’s so sad!” one of Diana’s sisters interjected. Diana shushed her. “Go on, Honey.”

“I could see a mockingbird out the window and the next time Nurse Dennison came around, I asked if I could go outside for a little while. The stick in the mud she was, she staunchly refused. I waited for the relief nurse to come by at lunch and asked her if I could get some fresh air for a while. She immediately agreed, thinking it might do my ‘poor constitution’ some good, and called for Cassie to come and sit with me in the shade by the lake.”

Trixie snorted. “Sweet Honey a rebel? I’d never guess!”

“It was my birthday! I was feeling adventurous! Anyway,” she continued, shooting a withering look at her best friend, “Nurse Francis gave me a handful of cookies and sent me on my way when Cassie came. She was a couple of years older than I, and at the time, she was the perfect idol—beautiful, healthy, tall, curvy—everything I wasn’t. She was nice, but a bit lacking upstairs; the only conversation starters she tried were boys and makeup.

The longer I sat out there, listening to her aimless chatter, the more forlorn I got. Mother and Daddy were off in the Alps and I was stuck at a stuffy summer-long camp with not even an acknowledgement of my birthday. I wound up crying on Cassie’s shoulder, spilling my pathetic life story out as she rubbed my back and cooed, ‘It’s alright. It’s okay. Maybe the present got lost in the mail…’ but I was inconsolable.”

Bobby opened his mouth to interrupt, but Trixie caught him and used her hand to silence him. He mumbled something that, if intelligible, would have sounded like, “This is depressing.”

“Finally, I was all cried out and just sobbed without tears. How could my parents forget me on my birthday? I heard a throat clear somewhere behind us but didn’t do anything. I didn’t care. Not even mean old Nurse Dennison could make me go back in until I was good and ready. But Cassie turned and saw who stood there and made me turn to see, too. When I did, it seemed like I became the Energizer Bunny all of a sudden—total transformation. My eyes lit up and I jumped to my feet, rushed around the bench and threw my arms around his neck.”

“He told me that Mother was already waiting on a private beach in the Caribbean and that he was pulling me from camp to spend the rest of the summer with them there.”

“Soon after we landed, he was called back to New York for a work emergency, and Mother didn’t spend much time with me when I got there. She just sat in the sunroom, drinking daiquiris and margaritas, and the climate didn’t help our frailties much, but that one day, it was nice to turn around and see that I hadn’t been forgotten.

Being whisked away from summer camp by Daddy was the best twelfth birthday present a girl like I used to be could have ever asked for.”

“I’m glad it made you happy,” Bobby said, turning to his brothers.  “Hmmm.  Which one of you is going first?

“Mart.” Brian said his brother’s name so fast that the blond in question nearly choked on his soda.

“Isn’t it about time we sliced into that aromatic confection in the kitchen?” Mart asked hopefully.         

“We can’t cut the cake yet,” Bobby protested.  “Not until you’ve told me about your 12th birthday.”

“And it’s a doozy,” Brian grinned.

 Mart scowled as Brian and Trixie exchanged amused glance

“Well, if the guest of honor insists,” Mart said.  “But I really don’t believe the rest of these yahoos need to hear that odious tale.”

“Oh, yes, we do,” Trixie said.  “Go on, Mart!”          

“Well,” Mart began, “it was a typical Belden birthday in many respects.  Moms prepared a picnic that was a veritable smorgasbord of delights, and after I could move again, we spent the remainder of the afternoon splashing around in the lake.  By the time we had tromped back up to the house, my appetite had more than returned enough for me to wolf down three slices of Mom’s double chocolate birthday cake.”

He paused as his gaze wandered longingly toward the kitchen.

“You’ll get it faster if you get on with the story,” Bobby scolded.

“Such a demanding audience,” Mart sighed.  “Very well, then.  After we had made short work of that beautiful creation, it was time to open my presents, and I must say that Brian and Trixie outdid themselves that year by going in together on a copy of the Oxford English Dictionary.”

“A decision we have questioned ever since,” Brian noted.   

“Not when you got your SAT scores back,” Mart retorted.  “There are advantages to keeping company with such a grandiloquent sibling.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I received several gifts that year, and even better than the dictionary was Moms and Dad informing me that I was allowed to stay up one hour later than before now that I was twelve.  The prospect of how I could spend all that extra time dazzled my imagination, but I knew just how I wanted to celebrate this newfound freedom: with the feature playing that night at the theater.

“Attack of the Aphids,” Trixie put in dramatically.

“I’d never seen a horror movie before,” Mart said.  “Moms and Dad always said I was too young, and Brian assured me I wasn’t missing much, but you know that’s little consolation when there’s something you want to do and you can’t.  So I begged to have Brian take me to see Attack of the Aphids that night, and since it’s hard to resist the plea of a birthday boy, especially on a milestone birthday, they agreed.          

“They got no objections from Trixie, who had a book she was anxious to get back to and wasn’t the least bit jealous that I got to go to the movies and she didn’t.”       

“I really wasn’t,” Trixie agreed.  “I thought it looked dumb, and anyway, Hound of the Baskervilles was much creepier.”        

“Easy for you to say,” Mart replied.  “You weren’t there.  You didn’t see when the raging horde of errant aphids descended upon the countryside and devoured every scrap of vegetation in sight.  And then they made their way into the towns and they became less discriminating in their culinary choices. 

“They cleared out the produce sections of grocery stores in one writhing swarm, and then they went ahead and ate everything else on the shelves, too.  Bread, cheese, milk, hot dogs, popcorn, chocolate…  All of it gone in barely more than the blink of an eye.”  

“I don’t know, Mart,” Trixie said.  “They sound like your kindred spirits to me!”         

“More like his competition,” Brian said.  “Mart can’t stand to have anyone around who eats more than he does.”

“They ate everything!” Mart wailed, a wild look coming into his eye.  “They probably were going to start eating people next.  But I didn’t wait around to find out; I high-tailed it out of there and went straight to the concession stand to buy myself a box of Raisinettes, just to reassure myself that there was still something left for me to eat.”

“And I was only too glad to have an excuse to leave that ridiculous movie early,” Brian added.         

“But it wasn’t early enough,” Mart said mournfully.  “The aphids got to me, and I started seeing them wherever I went.  I opened the refrigerator so many times just to make sure there was still food in it that Moms banished me from the kitchen.  I went out and checked on the garden every day to make sure there were still plants there and not just dirt stomped on by little insect feet.  I suppose my interest in agriculture could be traced in large part back to this very incident.

“But worst of all was the unsympathetic reaction of my dear siblings.  Brian and Trixie spent the whole summer jumping out at me and yelling, ‘Aphids!’  They even got you in on it, Bobster, though I don’t hold you responsible for having been manipulated by such devious minds at the tender age of three.”

“Thanks, Mart,” Bobby chuckled.  “Though that sounds like something I would have had fun doing…  So how did you ever get over your fear of aphids?”       

“Oh, I did some research and found out that ladybugs eat aphids, so I went out and caught a plethora of ladybugs and brought them back home to stand guard over our humble abode, but it turned out that Moms was not so appreciative of my solution, and once I had scoured the house to find and release all of the ladybugs I had dispatched to fight this nonexistent foe, I concluded that if the wrath of Moms could compel me to clear out all of those ladybugs so quickly, even the aphids probably didn’t stand a chance.”

“I think ladybugs are perfectly lovely,” Helen Belden interjected.  “But I’d rather not wake up with them crawling up my face.”

“So that was the end of my long birthday trauma,” Mart concluded.  “Now that I am completely famished, I hope you’re ready for that cake, kiddo.  And when you blow out those candles, be careful what you wish for!”

“I think that’s my cue to get the cake,” Helen said, rising from her chair and heading into the kitchen.

Mart watched her, his mind back on the prospect of cake.  Impishly, Bobby grabbed his shoulders and shouted, “Aphids!”

Startled, Mart jumped and fell off of his chair.  Bobby clutched his stomach and laughed loudly. Mart growled lowly, and his little brother’s expression changed.

"You’re dead, birthday brat!" Mart yelled, charging toward him.

"I gotta go!" Bobby squealed, dashing toward the house.

"What is going on?" Mrs. Belden's brow furrowed as her younger sons barreled past her.

Setting the cake down and hearing chaos coming from their living room, Mrs. Belden sighed.  Raising her voice, she shouted, "Robert Belden!"

Silence briefly met her command, but then it was like a pack of Comanche Indians came bursting through and out the front door. With a shrug, she decided that as long as no one got seriously injured and they didn't break anything, she didn't care what her sons did.

Running out the door, Bobby spotted Brian and Trixie standing in the garden laughing. "HOLP!!" Bobby shouted, heading their direction with Mart right on his heels.

"Oh, no you don't small fry!" Mart made a lunge for him, but Bobby dodged it. Continuing his hurried pace, Bobby pleaded his case. "It was all their idea! Honest, Mart!"

Looking up at Trixie and Brian, Mart caught their guilty expressions and growled. "Can nobody give me an ounce of respect?" he yelled as he came to a sudden stop. “First you wake me up with a water gun, then you interrupt my time with Di, and now this!  What does a guy have to do to get a little privacy and respect?”

Bobby, hiding behind Trixie, scuffed at the dirt with his new shoe.

"Oh Mart, don't be ridiculous. This isn’t about respect—we’re family.  And none of us have much privacy," Trixie commented with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll second that," Brian added.

"I'll third it," Jim agreed, as the rest of the Bob-Whites joined them. "Trying to hang out with any one of the Beldens means the rest of the Belden clan is sure to be there as well."

"I, for one, don't have that problem," Dan smugly grinned as he walked over to the garden. Noticing Jim's glare, Dan held up his hands in surrender. "I only meant when hanging out with the guys. Whatever were you thinking, Frayne? Is a certain type of privacy a problem for you?"

"With two sets of twins, I have the same problem with privacy," Di shared.

"It's not too much of an issue at the Manor House," Honey chimed in.

"Actually, it is," Jim grumbled, looking at Trixie.

A giggle escaped from her lips while her brothers scowled at Jim.

"Oh brother, here comes all of that cootie crap again," Bobby groused. "I'm out of here!"

As he rushed away from the garden and headed for the house, Bobby couldn't resist looking back at the Bob-Whites. While he didn't want any cooties now, maybe someday they wouldn't be so bad. Turning to open the screen door, he thought to himself with a smug grin that today had been a pretty fun birthday, so far.

Moms had the cake ready.  As the whole gang of people returned to the table to sing, Bobby looked around at them.  If this was any indication, it seemed that his twelfth year would be a good one.

"Can I get another slice, Moms?"

Brian Belden watched his youngest brother finish off a third slice of cake, a winsome smile touching his features. Bobby was so excited, so ready to face his future. Of course, who wasn't when they were turning twelve?

He sat back in his chair, watching the whirlwind around him. As usual, it was not a quiet gathering. Any time the Bob-Whites and Lynch twins, mixed with Bobby were together, noise and laughter abounded. Several conversations were going on at the same time, laughter erupting randomly. There was the steady clink of forks against plates, the occasional request for more cake. It was probably the most festive party Brian had been to in years.

Robert Belden's birthday was a day to celebrate. And it was a festive occasion, indeed, because it seemed their dear Bobby never aged.

At least, not until now. Suddenly, the towheaded, chubby little boy that had caused Brian, his siblings and their closest friends so much grief was so much older. He'd grown inches over the past year, and the baby fat that had defined him had melted away. He was more serious now, with a laugh that reminded Brian of their father, and the quick wit of Mart. He was popular and outgoing. With his blonde hair and blue eyes, he was the picture of the All-American boy next door.

He as at the cusp of what was possibly the toughest time in a boy’s life.

Learning to become a man.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, Brian squeezed Honey’s hand and excused himself.   He climbed the stairs to his old room, looking around at the familiar furnishings.  Mart and Bobby’s impromptu wrestling match had saved him the trouble of telling the story of his own twelfth birthday.  In truth, he didn’t really remember the details, he just recalled the horror of being twelve. No longer a boy, but not yet a man. He’d thought then that he could do anything.

"I'm not a little kid, Moms, I can go by myself."

The words, spoken nearly ten years before, echoed in his mind. They brought with them a flood of memories. The few rebellions. The anguish of wanting to be thought of as an adult. The frequent moments of realizing he wanted to be a little boy for as long as possible. And the torture of having a little brother and sister that always seemed to be in his hair.

He spied a picture tacked to the bulletin board over his desk and smiled. It was of himself at the tender age of twelve. The look on his face screamed I can save the world. And on either side of him, his parents, their expressions mirroring his. The photo was faded now, several holes in each corner from repeated re-hanging, but still one of his favorites.

"You, kid, did alright," he whispered to the vision of his younger self. "Haven't quite saved the world, but we'll get there."

He headed downstairs to rejoin his family, gathering his kid brother in a bear hug when he entered the kitchen. Bobby groused at the show of affection but returned the hug before slipping away to chase after Mart. Brian watched him go, grinning.

I'm pretty sure you'll save the world, too, Bobby.

The End

Author Notes

Happy Birthday, Jix!

When the 12th JixAnny was within range, I (Ronda/Rolyru) decided I wanted to try a group writing project.  I’m not good at blog writing.  I have more of a plotter personality.  So I plotted, and I came up with the idea of giving Bobby a twelfth birthday, and having that trigger memories in the older Bob-Whites. Happy with the idea, I set out to find willing vict...uh...volunteers to co-write the story.  I brainstormed with Mal, and we came up with a list of potential vict...uh...volunteers.

It has been GREAT (and the all-caps are necessary) working with Maleficient, bilbopooh, Kate I., MarnHon, Country Girl, Jeepers and Mylee. I gave them little time and less instruction, yet I think the story flows pretty well for having been written by 8 people.  Such amazing talent and enthusiasm!  I salute you, ladies!  With exclamation points!!!!!!!!!!

Can you guess who wrote which?

Mal

Happy 12th birthday, Jix! It was my honor to work with my very dear friend Ronda on this project and I hope everyone enjoys it! - Mal

Mylee

This is the first group story I’ve had the pleasure of working on. It’s also the first one-shot I’ve ever written in the Trixie fandom, too. Man, it’s much tougher for me to write a one-shot than it is to work on an on-going story. I was really intrigued by the notion of what Trixie’s life would be like, pre-Bob-Whites. I’ve never explored that aspect before. I hope all of the readers enjoyed it!  

Thanks to all the participants for making the group story so much fun. And special thanks to Ronda for being in charge of it all.  It was a truly memorable experience!

Happy 12th Anniversary, Jix!

bilbopooh

(Erin)

"I offered to tackle Mart's story because I think he's such a fun character to write, and I wanted to come up with something funny and somewhat embarrassing for his birthday.  I've always thought of aphids as having big appetites, so I thought they could make a fun horror movie subject to traumatize him with, especially with the agriculture connection.  Thanks to Ronda for inviting me to participate in this project and weaving my section into a great celebratory story I'm honored to be a part of.  Thanks as well for the warm welcome everyone has given me over the past year and to Mark, who brought me here in the first place.  It may have taken me three decades to meet the Bob-Whites, but they feel like old friends now, and so do you!"  

Kate I

Just a short note from me. :)

I'd like to thank Ronda for inviting me to participate with such a great group of writers. This was my first Jixanny and I am honored to have been included!

Kate

Country Girl

First, thank you to Rolyru for thinking of this and inviting me to participate. Second, a huge thank you to Wendy, Jo, and Jenny for their speedy edits and willingness to keep a seecrud. Thank you to Mylee for swapping snippets with me. Thank you to Jix and the ladies + Mark who make it the best place on the internet. Here's to twelve wonderful years and many more! As for my section, I totally see the Bob-Whites pawning Bobby off on each other because that's what we did with younger tag alongs ;) I'm glad this turned out so well! I almost died when I discovered that my part had to link everyone else's :-O However, I thoroughly enjoyed writing for the little scamp and hope you enjoyed reading it!