​

​

"What about the hot brunette who was chasing you?" Mart asked Jim, as the guys set up for the last picnic of the summer. Trixie was starting her freshman year at Westchester Community College; Brian's vacation time was up and he was due back in Bethesda; Mart, Dan and the girls were heading to New York; and Jim was starting course work for his Master's.

​

"You said she kept letting you know she'd be more than able to take care of your um. Trust fund."

​

Jim rolled his eyes and looked up, sure he had heard sounds coming from the path. He didn't want Trixie to hear Mart's teasing.

​

"I don't like fast girls," Jim finally said, his green eyes narrowed as he surveyed the path.

​

Behind the big oak tree...

​

Trixie's heart was pounding like a freight train. Of course there were other girls. Why wouldn't there be other girls? He was Jim for crying out loud!

​

Trixie waited ten more minutes before showing up with the burger patties.

​

Jim smiled at her.

​

Act natural, Trix, she encouraged herself.

​

Breathe, Frayne, Jim thought.

​

"So, Trix," Jim said with feigned nonchalance. "I have this gift card that's burning a hole in my pocket. Would you go to Ruth's Chris Steakhouse with me tomorrow?"

​

Trixie blushed and was grateful the grill camouflaged her flaming cheeks. "I'd like that, Jim."

​

"So 6 o'clock?"

​

Trixie nodded. "That'll be great, Jim."

​

5:30pm, next night

​

Jim opened his wallet to make sure he had the gift card he'd bought last week in his wallet. A baby picture of Trixie fell out. He smiled, tracing his fingers around her toddler's curls. That one, he decided. That was his future curl. He hoped their daughters would have those curls and then frowned at the thought of some future young man tugging on them.

​

No wonder her dad glared at him. Jim decided then and there to improve his glare. No daughter of his was going to wind up with a less than honorable jerk.

​

Jim pulled up at Crabapple Farm in his mother's Mercedes. If all went well, when this date ended, Trixie would finally be his girl.

​

"Jim," Mr. Belden greeted him with a glare. Jim grinned as he studied the older man's facial expressions. Yeah, he could manage that.

​

Trixie appeared, scented softly of blueberries and vanilla and Jim's mouth watered and wondered if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.

​

"I need to be home by ten, right Daddy?" Trixie said, staring at her father, hoping he understood. Her curfew had moved to midnight on weekends since she turned 18.

​

"That's right, princess," Mr. Belden said absently.

 

"You ready to go, Jim?" she asked brightly, taking his arm.

 

"You borrowed the Mercedes?"

 

Jim shrugged. "I didn't want your hair to be messed up in the Jeep."

​

Trixie rolled her eyes. "Like they aren't messy all the time?"

 

"That's what I like about them, Shamus," Jim said softly, tugging on his favorite one. "You don't care what you look like."

​

9:55pm

​

"I had a lovely time," Trixie said. The evening was fun and casual. Jim didn't like "fast girls" and by damn! She was going to be the slowest girl he'd ever met! She kept the conversation light and friendly and any time Jim even got a serious look on his face, she changed the subject.

​

Meanwhile, Jim was grinding his teeth in frustration. He walked her to the door and leaned close to kiss her good night when her small right hand stuck out. She wanted to shake hands!

​

"Did I do something wrong, Trix?" Jim asked. Trixie stood on the bottom step, allowing them to be eye to eye.

"Not at all, Jim," she said, shaking her head.

​

"Then why are you running from me?"

​

Trixie hadn't expected that. She frowned at him, unsure how to answer. "I'm not," she said.

​

"You pulled your hand away in the car," Jim started.

​

"I had an itch!"

​

"I wanted to sit next to you in the booth and you purposely sat on my left side so I couldn't get near you without clobbering you with my elbow."

​

"You're a southpaw!"

​

Jim closed his eyes against a truth he didn't want to face. He nodded. "And when I went to kiss you good night you wanted to shake!" he said the word like it was the foulest of curses.

​

Trixie dropped her eyes, embarrassed. She botched this terribly. She didn't even want to tell him about the curfew. "I just – "

​

Jim held his finger up to her lips. "It's okay, Trix. I get it." He brushed a sad kiss across her forehead and said a silent farewell to the mini-Trixie's he'd hoped to have with this woman.

​

"You're crying!" Trixie said, wiping at his tears.

​

"I'll be okay, Trix." He took a deep breath struggling for his control. "I was hoping for more but I wouldn't lose your friendship for anything. You know that, right? I'm sorry I pushed but," his voice caught and his grin slipped. "You can't fault a guy for trying."

​

"Jim?"

​

"I'll see you at Thanksgiving, Trix," he said, brushing another kiss across her forehead and picked up the pieces of his broken heart and headed for the car.

​

Trixie ran after him. "Stop right there, Jim Frayne! You said you didn't like 'fast' girls! And then you asked me out. What was I supposed to do? Jump you and kiss you to death and worry I was too fast for you? So I decided I was going to be the slowest girl you've ever met!"

​

Jim's brow furrowed as he tried to keep up with Trixie's logic. It cleared. "You were there when Mart was teasing me!"

​

"Of course I was there!" She sniffled.

​

"Then let me correct my statement," Jim said, approaching her. "I don't like any girls – fast or slow – who aren't you."

​

Trixie giggled and let him scoop her into his arms.

​

Jim's eyes closed and his imagination stirred as images of their future children danced around them.