Sweet Sixteen
August 24, 1985
Dan watched Tessa as she brushed Cowboy. Even in her jeans and blue cotton t-shirt, she still managed to make his heart beat a little faster each time she stretched across the horse with the currycomb. Shaking his head, he finished up with Kestrel and turned her out into the pasture. “Are you about done?” he asked.
“Just about,” Tessa replied. “Do you want to grab a couple of flakes?”
“Let me turn Cowboy out for you,” Dan said. “Then we’ll get them some hay. Together.” He waggled his eyebrows, and she giggled.
“Oooh,” Tessa said, batting her eyes and affecting a bad southern accent. “Ah do declare, suh! Are you tryin’ to get me alone in the hay stall?”
“Who? Me?” Dan teased, opening his eyes wide. “I do believe you have just insulted my honor, madam.” He took the lead rope and set Cowboy loose.
“It certainly was not meant as an insult,” Tessa said, changing to an upper class British affectation. “It was an invitation.”
“Oooh-la-la.” Dan chuckled, twirling an imaginary mustache and allowing her to lead him into the stall they used for hay storage. As he grabbed a flake off the nearest open bale, Tessa grabbed him around the waist and rested her face against his back.
“I love the way hay smells,” she mused. “It’s all fresh and sunshiney. I just want to roll in it.”
Dan let the flake drop to the floor as he turned around and sat on the bale, pulling Tessa around to his lap. “It smells okay,” he said, “but it’s still dusty and scratchy. Rolling in it would be dumb.”
She kissed his chin. “Are you calling me dumb?” she teased.
Dan groaned dramatically. “No!” he protested. “I’m calling the idea dumb.”
“Really?” There was an all-too-familiar unholy gleam in her golden-green eyes. Before he could stop her, Tessa pushed off of his lap and dropped into the fallen hay, pulling Dan down on top of her. “Still think it’s dumb?” she giggled.
Dan groaned, leaning on his forearms to keep his weight off of the girl beneath him. “Yes, but it does have its good points.”
Tessa giggled again. “I think we need to roll around,” she said, “in order to get whole experience.”
With an indulgent grin, Dan obliged.
There wasn’t a trace of hay or dust on either of them as they stood gazing at one another in the foyer of the Manor House. Tessa ran her hand down Dan’s tuxedo sleeve, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle from the charcoal gray fabric. “Nice,” she pronounced. “I like the vest.”
“Cummerbunds are only cool in good colors,” he told her, a grin teasing the corners of his mouth as he adjusted his bow tie. “And this is not a good color. For me,” he added hastily. “On you, it looks good.”
“I didn’t choose it,” she replied pertly, her fingers moving to the silver and black paisley patterned vest. “Aunt Lainey did. She says it’s ‘blush pink’.”
“Blushing for who?” Dan asked, his gaze sliding over the deep pink of her gown. The dress was pretty, or maybe it was just the girl inside the dress. The velvety fabric draped modestly over her shoulders, tied with a white satin sash just above her waist, the full skirt with its chiffon overlay swishing just below her knees. “If it’s a Di or Honey blush, it’s too dark. They tend to blush like that carnation pink crayon in Bobby’s big Crayola box. If it’s Trixie, it’s nowhere near red enough; she blushes like a cherry tomato.” He reached for her hand.
“Maybe it’s my blush, Mr. Know-it-all,” Tessa said, entwining her fingers with his.
“Nope.” Dan shook his head firmly. “I know your blush by heart.” He raised her hand to his lips. “It’s some shade of pink, I suppose, but under your tan, it turns your cheeks the color of those peaches we took with us on our picnic today.” He kissed her fingers, watching as the aforementioned blush ran up her neck, staining her cheeks. “There it is,” he whispered with a smile, turning her toward the entryway mirror. “Look,” he said. “The dress doesn’t come close.”
She leaned into him, her head against his shoulder. “You are the sweetest man, you know that?”
“I try,” he teased, reaching into his jacket packet and pulling out a small package wrapped in red tissue paper. Holding it out to her, he said, “For you.”
“And what do we have here?” she asked, taking the present.
“Happy belated birthday,” he told her.
“You already gave me a present,” Tessa told him. “Three, if you count the flowers and dinner.”
“Well, this is four,” Dan replied with a grin. “I just didn’t get down to pick it up until yesterday. Go ahead,” he encouraged her. “Open it.”
She did, tearing the tissue to reveal a rectangular red velvet box emblazoned with a gold M. Carefully, she opened the lid and caught her breath. “Oh, Dan!” she breathed. “It’s beautiful. How did you get my pearl?”
“Lana does good work,” he told her with a smile. “Honey stole your pearl for me. I wanted to make sure you can take your heart with you wherever you go. Do you like it?”
She could only nod.
“Here, let me help you with it.” He lifted the rose-gold chain from the box and unfastened the clasp. Tessa turned so he could place it around her neck, the feel of his warm fingers on her skin sending tingles down her spine.
She looked in the mirror. Her heart-shaped pink pearl was set in a rose-gold eternity circle, dangling from a tiny amethyst teardrop. It nestled just below the fall of her throat. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly, turning to kiss him. “Thank you.”
“You’re beautiful,” he countered, taking her kiss and returning it threefold. “But we’d better get going. We don’t want to miss the debutant ball.”
Tessa giggled, fingering her necklace. Taking his arm she said, “Lead on, Mangan-Maypenny.”
They arrived in plenty of time. As the staff at the Lynch Mansion ushered the arriving guests into the ballroom, Tessa greeted Harrison with a smile. “The young ladies are in the parlor, Miss Tessa,” the tall butler told her.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Harrison,” Tessa replied politely, slipping past him with Dan in tow.
Diana, Honey and Trixie were seated on the royal blue and gold velvet settees, getting their last minute instructions from Miss Trask. They looked like butterflies--or maybe flowers--in their party dresses. The gowns had been specially designed and made as a gift from the Wheelers. They were similar in design, with draped and fitted bodices and full chiffon and tulle skirts.
Trixie’s dress was sky blue in color with a chiffon halter-style neckline and silver and royal blue daisies embroidered on the skirt. On her feet, she wore silver sandals with a two-inch heel, and her short hair had been curled and coifed and threaded through with a shimmering tiara of blue ribbons. Around her neck, she wore a silver chain from which hung a small, round sapphire. The expression on her face showed her to be about two inches away from total death by impatience.
Diana’s dress boasted a slightly more dramatic neckline, with an artfully draped portrait style shawl that wrapped delicately around her shoulders, yet left them bare. Her dress was in her trademark shade of lavender, the bodice embroidered with seed pearls, the sheer chiffon of her overskirt embroidered with butterflies in various shades of purple, echoing the butterfly hair ornament that held her riotously curled hair back off her face. Her heels were translucent white that reflected a prism of color, and when she walked, her skirt moved in such a way as to give the impression that the butterflies adorning it were taking flight. She wore an amethyst and pearl necklace, with matching earrings, and seemed to shimmer in the light.
Honey’s dress was the simplest in design. It was sleeveless, the modestly fitted top held up by wide, gathered chiffon straps. The fabric, in the palest shade of green, flared out from her waist. The skirt was threaded through with gold threads and small, sparkling green gems but was otherwise unadorned. She wore shimmery gold ballet flats, and her birthday gift from her parents—a peridot and diamond necklace with matching earrings. Having an August birthday, Honey was more than pleased to wear her birthstone. Her golden hair fell sleek and straight to her shoulders, peridot-studded clips holding it off of her face.
Lined up against the wall, like lambs to the slaughter, stood Brian, Jim and Mart. All three were dressed to the max in black tuxedos, their cummerbunds and bow ties matched perfectly to the color each of their dates was wearing.
Dan gave Tessa’s hand a squeeze and walked over to his friends. “Surviving?” he asked with an amused smirk.
Mart glared at him. “We’ve been standing here for the last hour,” he hissed in a low voice. “I swear, if we don’t get this party started soon, I’m going to die of boredom.”
“It’s not that bad, Mart,” Brian corrected his brother. “And at least we get to look at the girls.” His dark eyes tracked back to Honey. “They look good, don’t they?”
“Beautiful,” Dan agreed. “All of them.” His own eyes moved to Tessa, who had placed herself between Trixie and Miss Trask, and seemed to be relieving some of Trixie’s tension. Turning to Jim, he whispered, “Nice daisies.”
Startled, Jim jumped a little. Frowning, he narrowed his eyes at Dan. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he growled.
“Trixie,” Dan told him with an impish grin. “She’s got daisies on her dress.”
“I don’t know which is more disturbing,” Jim said, cocking his head to the side. “The fact that you’re looking at my girl, or the thought of you being able to identify the little flowers stuck on her dress.”
Dan laughed. “I’m not,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t have known if Tess hadn’t told me.”
“And you actually listened?” Jim asked incredulously. “And understood?”
“Purple butterflies. Blue daisies. Green sparklies. It wasn’t that hard to remember,” Dan said.
“Sparklies?” Brian cut in. “Is that even a word?”
Dan shrugged and grinned. “Who knows? I didn’t come up with it; I’m only repeating it.”
Mart smacked him on the shoulder. “Dipwad,” he said, snickering just a little.
“So, what’s the plan?” Dan asked, squeezing in between Jim and Mart to claim his own section of the wall.
Mart groaned, so Brian answered, “We,” he pointed at Jim and Mart, “get to escort the birthday girls into the ballroom, in front of the guests. You get to escort Tessa in first. From what I gather, we all get to sit together for dinner. Then, after we eat, the birthday girls get to dance with the dads while the three of us get to watch. Lucky you—you get to watch us standing there watching. The father-daughter dance leads to the cakes, along with candles and singing. Once that and the toasts are done, we can all dance.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Dan said. “What’s for dinner?”
Mart, as expected, was the one to answer. “Prime rib—sliced to order, pheasant in sour cream sauce, curried rice pilaf, oven roasted potatoes with Parmesan and chives, peas with those little pearl onions, grilled carrots and zucchini, and sautéed peppers, onions and mushrooms.” He rubbed his stomach ruefully. “If we ever actually get to eat. I’m starving.”
“People were still arriving when Tess and I got here,” Dan told him. “Besides, it isn’t supposed to start until seven, and it’s only 6:55. Patience, grasshopper.”
“Patience, my butt!” Mart retorted in a whisper. “You just got here. We’ve been here for over an hour. You don’t know how lucky you are it isn’t Tessa’s party.”
“Tessa had hers last year,” Dan reminded him. “Your girlfriends just happened to turn sixteen in the same year. Triple the fun, right?”
Judging by the mutinous expression on Mart’s face, fun wasn’t the word on the tip of his tongue. He was spared actually hearing the word when Miss Trask rose from the settee, smoothing the skirt of her silver gray skirt. “It’s time, ladies and gentlemen,” she called out. “Dan, you and Tessa go on in. Boys, remember your instructions please.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Dan said, moving away from the wall and extending his arm to Tessa. As she joined him, he added, “May I say you’re looking quite lovely tonight, Miss Trask?”
The lady blushed faintly, her blue eyes twinkling. “Thank you, Daniel. You look quite smashing yourself this evening.” She looked at each of the young men and women. “You all do.” She smiled, her face softening. “You all look so grown-up and sophisticated. I’m so very proud of all of you.” A brief moment passed, and Miss Trask reverted to her normal brisk and efficient self. “Let’s go. Places, please.”
Dan led Tessa out the door and to their seats at the table reserved for the Bob Whites. At some secret signal, the jazz quartet in the corner of the room began to play. Slowly, the processional began, and the guests’ attention was focused on the birthday girls and their escorts.
Dan watched as his friends crossed the room arm in arm. The Bob White girls did look beautiful. All three of them seemed to glow under the twinkling lights of the ballroom—even Trixie seemed cool and confident. At least until Dan noticed Jim wince and realized the perky blonde was clutching the handsome redhead’s arm far too tightly. Jim placed his free hand over Trixie’s white knuckles as they turned the corner, and Dan tried to hide his grin.
Brian led Honey with the calm grace that seemed to come so easy for the eldest Belden boy. His dark eyes were serene, the expression on his face one of pride and confidence. He looked down at Honey and she smiled back at him, her face lighting up, her hazel eyes gleaming.
Mart and Diana entered last, and Dan would have laughed out loud at the besotted look on his best friend’s face, if only he hadn’t known that it was nearly identical to the one that could be found on his face when he looked at Tessa. As Mart and Diana took their seats at the table, Dan looked down at his girl. Tessa smiled at him, her heart in her eyes, and patted his knee under the table. He wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss her, but being at the head table, he knew the breach of etiquette would be frowned upon. So he settled for covering her hand with his, rubbing circles across her knuckles with his thumb. Later, he promised himself, silently vowing to find a quiet corner somewhere in the vast Lynch mansion. There would be time for kissing later.
The serving staff in their gray and white uniforms began bringing trays of drinks to the table, while the catering staff began to serve the salad course.
Trixie stifled a sigh. Outside in, she reminded herself, reaching for her salad fork. She cast a sideways glance at Jim. He looked so self-assured and at ease in his tuxedo. His fork was already in his hand as he exchanged polite words with his sister. Have fun. That was what everyone said, but being dressed to the nines and placed on public display wasn’t Trixie’s idea of fun. Although, she did have to admit that her dress was pretty amazing. Wearing it, she felt a little bit like a princess. With her free hand clutching the napkin draped across her lap, she valiantly speared a leaf of lettuce and managed to wrangle it into her mouth without mishap. So far, so good.
Jim leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Imagine them all in their underwear, Trix. That’s what I do.”
Startled, she gave him an incredulous look. “Seriously? You do not!”
“I do,” he replied. “The first time I had to do a big dinner with my new parents?” She nodded and he continued, “I spilled my water on the person sitting next to me and dropped my dessert fork on the floor. I was so embarrassed; I excused myself and tried to disappear.”
“Oh, Jim! What happened?”
“Mother came looking for me,” Jim admitted with a small smile. “I hadn’t been here long, and I was sure she was going to be angry, but she wasn’t. She told me to put my chin up and go back to the table. Then, she told me that the secret to staying calm at banquets and other events is to picture everyone in the most ridiculous underwear possible.”
“Really?” Trixie giggled at the thought of poised Madeleine Wheeler imaging people in their scanties.
Jim crossed his heart. “On my honor. And it works. Try it.” He picked out a table to her left. “See Mrs. Dejardin over there? The one with the feather thing in her hair?”
“I see her,” she said.
“Good. Now think about what is under that…interesting spangled gown. I’m thinking pink boxers with purple hearts on them and one of those Playtex 48-hour bras in turquoise.”
She giggled. “They’re 18-hour bras. You need to pay more attention to the television commercials. Besides, that lady is definitely not lifting and separating. I think she’s wearing a yellow merry widow with garters, and her granny panties are riding up on her. That’s why she has such a sour face. It’s her husband wearing the boxers, but they’re blue with red lip prints on them.” She giggled again and felt herself relaxing.
“See,” Jim said. “You’re good at this, and it works.”
“It does,” she told him with quiet glee. “Thanks, Jim. You’re the best!”
“You’re the most beautiful girl, Trix.” Jim squeezed her hand under the table. “I can’t wait until we dance.”
She felt the heat creeping up her neck and concentrated on forking another mouthful of salad into her mouth. Remembering to chew quietly, she settled for looking into Jim’s green eyes until her flush subsided. After that, dinner progressed with ease.
Diana worked to keep her expression as serene as Honey’s. Beside her, Mart was clearly in his element. She had to admit the food was extremely good. The pheasant and beef were perfectly cooked. The rice and potatoes were well spiced, and the vegetables accented the overall meal. Diana took another bite. It was delicious, but she worried that no one would have fun.
Her mother had assured her that after the formal dinner and speeches things would loosen up. She was looking forward to the dancing. Casting a glance around the large room, her eyes picked out the fifteen teenagers she and her friends had invited. They were seated in small groups, and so far, everyone seemed to be enjoying their meal. Tad Webster noticed her looking at his table and raised his glass to her with a grin. Reassured, Diana returned his grin. Maybe it would turn out okay after all.
“I can’t believe my baby is sixteen,” Matthew Wheeler murmured to his daughter as they waltzed to The Mills Brothers’ “Daddy’s Little Girl”. “I don’t know where the time went.” He hummed along with the song, his hands light on her waist but firmly holding her hand.
“The last three years have been especially wonderful, Daddy.” Honey followed her father’s steps perfectly. “I’ve loved really being a family.”
“We should have done it years ago, Honey, my sweet girl.” Matthew’s green eyes were bright with remorse. “They only thing I really regret in my life is the time your mother and I lost with you--time we wasted not realizing what an amazing person you are.”’
“Oh, Daddy!” Honey managed, her voice clogging with unshed tears. “This is a party. No regrets. Not tonight.”
Matthew looked down at his daughter, so beautiful, so “perfectly perfect” to use her own words. “No regrets,” he agreed, pulling her closer and quietly singing along,
“You're the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold,
You're daddy's little girl to have and hold.
A precious gem is what you are,
You're mommy's bright and shining star.
You're the treasure I cherish so sparkling and bright.
You were touched by the holy and beautiful light,
Like angels that sing a heavenly thing,
And you're daddy's little girl.”
He choked up a little but recovered, and on they danced.
“Why is your uncle staring at us?” Tessa asked, her head resting against Dan’s shoulder. Regan, dancing halfway across the room with Allegra, averted his face when Dan glanced his way.
“Probably making sure my hands aren’t wandering,” Dan said. The bitterness in his voice startled Tessa, and she pulled back to look at him, her feet still moving in rhythm with his.
“Has he been on that kick again?” she asked, barely containing the scowl that crossed her face. “I swear…”
“Shhh.” Dan bent down and kissed her briefly, silencing her for the moment. “Regan is Regan. I don’t really get him and I probably never will. Let it go.”
“I will, if you will,” she whispered as the music shifted to a more upbeat tempo. “But I think we should slip away and give him something to worry about.”
He laughed and twirled her around. “I can try.” He chuckled, and shook his head at her. “Damn, I love you!”
“Love you more,” she replied, “and I’m not completely kidding. How about we go get some…air?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Air?”
“Air,” she answered. “Fresh air. Maybe out by the pool house?”
“That sounds like a great idea,” he told her with a smile, his dark eyes burning with intensity. “I am feeling a bit warm.”
“Funny,” she said with a knowing smirk. “I’m feeling a little flushed, myself.” She looked around the room. “As soon as they play another slow dance, I’ll excuse myself. You count to 100 and come find me.”
He spun her around in answer, and then kept her as near as the rhythm allowed. As the song drew to its end, he pulled her to him and kissed her hand before releasing her. She felt his eyes on her as she made her way out of the ballroom and put a shimmy in her step as she went. She wondered if he’d count by fives.
The swing behind the pool house was occupied. As she approached the corner of the building, Tessa heard the low murmur of a voice, followed by a giggle she identified as belonging to Trixie. Peeking around, she spied two of her cousins sitting close and swinging. Trixie’s feet were bare and her head was resting on Jim’s chest. “This is nice,” she whispered. “How much time do we have?”
“Seven minutes before it’s Di and Mart’s turn,” Jim said, dropping a kiss on her blond curls. “You look like a princess tonight.”
“A barefoot, freckle-faced princess?” Trixie snorted. “You must be blind.”
“Nope,” Jim told her firmly. “My princess. Blue jeans or ball gown, you’re beautiful no matter what.”
“Oh, Jim!” As Trixie raised her face to Jim, Tessa took a step back into the shadows.
A familiar hand touched her shoulder, and she leaned up against Dan, touching his lips with her finger. “Shhh,” she breathed in a bare whisper. “This spot is taken.”
He nodded his understanding and took her hand, leading her back toward the house. When they were safely out of hearing range, he asked, “Who?”
“Jim and Trixie,” she replied. “But from what I gathered, the pool house is the dedicated sneak-out spot tonight. Di and Mart get it next.”
“Clever,” Dan replied with a grin. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or hurt that they didn’t include us in the scheme.”
“Well,” Tessa reasoned, “we aren’t the ones on public display tonight. They aren’t as likely to notice if we disappear for a while.”
“I guess.”
Something in his voice made her stop and look at him, her eyes searching his face. “Which one’s been giving you a hard time?” she asked. “Yours? Or mine?”
Dan’s sigh was loud. “Mine,” he told her quietly. “I know I shouldn’t let him get to me, but…”
Tessa’s answer was to move closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face against his shirt. “You told me to let it go, but it’s still eating at you. What can I do to make it better?”
“This is good,” he said, pulling her closer, his breath warm against her face as he leaned in. “You make everything better.”
Their kiss was interrupted by footsteps on the pathway. “Watch your hands, Mangan-Maypenny,” Jim said in a mocking tone.
“I will, if you will, Frayne-Wheeler,” Dan responded, his voice equally teasing. He shot Jim a scowl. “Why wasn’t I informed of the pool house trade-off?”
Even in the dim light, both Jim and Trixie turned red. Regaining his cool, Jim shrugged a little sheepishly. “It was kind of a spur of the moment thing.”
“And,” Trixie added, “it was Brian’s idea.”
Tessa covered her heart with her hand. “Shocking!” she said with a giggle. “Absolutely shocking.”
“I know,” Trixie replied with a snicker. “Who would have thought?”
“We need to get back,” Jim said, reaching for Trixie’s hand. “It only works if we’re not gone for more than twenty minutes, and Mart’s going to be champing at the bit if we cut in on his time.” As they started back up the path, Jim called out over his shoulder, “Try the rose garden.”
Dan sent a questioning look at Tessa. She shrugged. “Sounds good to me,” she said, “I know there’s a picnic table in the center.”
“Roses, it is.” Dan lifted her hand to his lips, thinking that there were few things in the world better than roses, moonlight and stolen kisses.
“It’s going well, Margery,” Andrew Belden said quietly, joining her at the dessert bar. “If you ever decide to leave the Wheelers, I’d be more than happy to have you take over event planning for my company.”
“Thank you, Andrew.” Margery scanned the room. “Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.” A frown creased her brow.
“Don’t worry,” Andrew murmured. “They’re taking turns.”
Startled, she turned to him. “What?”
“The kids,” he explained. “Each pair leaves for twenty minutes and tag-teams on their return. It’s very precise, which makes me think it was either Jim or Brian’s idea.” He looked around the room. “I see Jim and Trixie and Mart and Diana. I’d bet that Brian and Honey will be back within the next ten minutes, after which Jim and my niece will vanish again.”
“How did you…?” Margery couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Where do you think Trixie gets her keen observation skills?” he asked with a wink. “I’ve been watching them since the dancing began. And I might have taken some air myself.” He grinned. “Don’t fret. They haven’t enough time to get into too much mischief.”
“That’s a relief,” Margery admitted. “Thank you, Andrew.” As Andrew’s attention was diverted to another guest, her eyes continued to scan the room, lighting on a flash of pink as Tessa and Dan slipped back into the room from parts unknown. Margery watched as Tessa straightened her skirt, and with a laughing move, reached up to wipe a smear of lipstick from the corner of Dan’s mouth. She shook her head. Andrew hadn’t mentioned those two, and she had to admit she hadn’t noticed them leaving the room, either. Hopefully, they hadn’t had enough time to get into mischief. Speaking of mischief, just as Andrew had predicted, Brian led Honey back into the room. At some unspoken signal, Jim took Trixie by the hand, and the two nonchalantly danced across the floor toward the door. Margery glanced at her watch. It would be interesting to see just how observant Andrew Belden really was. Twenty minutes, indeed.
Margery wasn’t the only one who had noticed Dan and Tessa reentering the ballroom. Regan was watching as well, his green eyes narrowing at the intimacy Tessa displayed while wiping his nephew’s face. He tried to recall when he had last seen the duo on the dance floor but wasn’t really sure. Had it been half an hour? More? Less? Long enough to get into trouble; that was for sure. He felt his stomach clench, but before he could do more than frown in their general direction, Allegra was beside him, one hand firm on his arm, the other waving a glass of champagne under his nose.
“Let it go, Liam,” she said softly. “This is a party, and whatever you’re worried about shouldn’t be allowed to cast a shadow on the celebration.”
He turned his frown on her, but it wavered under her calm stare. Forcing himself to relax, Regan took the glass and sipped from it. The bubbles tickled his nose, and he managed to smile. It was weak, and not terribly sincere, but it seemed to do the job, as Allegra returned his attempt with a glowing smile of her own. Her slender hand slid down his arm, reaching for and intertwining his fingers with hers. “How about we get some ‘air’,” she suggested, her eyes bright with mischief. “I understand the rose garden is quite spectacular.”
“It’s a maze of sorts,” Regan told her, allowing her to lead him, “but the flowers are pretty. Would you like to see it?”
“I thought you’d never ask, Liam,” she said. “I thought you’d never ask.” She led him across the floor and through the arched doorway, leaving the overheated ballroom for the warm and heady scents of fresh air.
When the last guest had departed, the Bob-White boys kissed their girls and headed off to the Manor House for the night. The ladies sashayed up the stairs to Diana’s suite.
“That was a lot more fun than I expected,” Diana said, collapsing into her purple, plush papasan chair.
“I thought so, too,” Trixie agreed, turning to Honey. “Can you unzip me? I really just want to slide in to my pajamas and slippers.”
Her best friend obliged, adding her two cents to the conversation. “Of course it was fun, Di. Your parents went out of the way to include your ideas as well as theirs. I know that all of our friends had a great time.”
“True,” Tessa agreed, dropping her dress to the ground and stepping out of her shoes. “Tad didn’t want to leave. He told me so—several times.” Clad in her pink silky slip, she stepped into the en-suite bathroom. “Of course, having the ability to go out for fresh air certainly didn’t hurt.”
The other three girls shared a knowing look and a giggle. “I still can’t believe that was Brian’s idea!” Trixie shook her head. “That kind of devious planning usually comes from Mart and Dan.”
“You just haven’t seen that side of your brother,” Honey informed her, a mysterious smile ghosting across her face. “Brian has many, many sides to him.”
“Ewwww.” Trixie wrinkled her nose and covered her ears with her palms. “Not listening. Lalalalala.”
Tessa stepped out of the bathroom in her nightgown, face scrubbed clean. Picking up her discarded clothing, she shook her head at her cousins. “I guess you don’t want to hear about my roll in the hay this morning, then, do you?”
“I do!” Diana squealed. “I’ve always wanted to, you know. It’s kind of like the kissing scene in the waves of the beach in From Here to Eternity. It’s so romantic and storybook.”
“True,” Trixie agreed, a dreamy look in her blue eyes. “I’ve always liked the scene in Gone with the Wind—the one where Rhett carries Scarlett up the stairs.” She sighed before her face shifted back to normal. “Besides, Dan’s not one of my brothers.”
“She has a point,” Honey added. “That negates the ewwww factor. So spill it, cousin dearest.”
“Get ready for bed,” Tessa advised. “Boy talk is better when we’re all tucked in.”
The scramble for the bathroom had them all in stitches.
Author Notes
This is a set up piece. Some of the things that occur in this story will factor in later.
All three girls (Trixie, Honey & Diana) turned sixteen within four months, and since they were all in Hawai’i over the summer, the families decided to have a combined party. This was alluded to during the trip. The three birthday girls insisted that Dan and Tessa join them at the head table.
Thank you very much, dearest editors--Susansuth, MaryN and WendyM. And, for you, Mary...
A bale of hay is made up of about 15 flakes pressed into a big, stackable rectangle. When the baling string or wire, the segments, or flakes, are easily peeled apart to feed the animals.
