​

A house is made of walls and beams; a home is built with love and dreams. ~ Unknown

​

​

Jim pulled into the overgrown driveway at Ten Acres. "Where to, Shamus?"

Trixie got out of the car and lead him down a newly cleared path he'd never noticed before.

 

"There's nothing back there but the old summerhouse, Trix," Jim protested.

​

"It's back further on the property line between the Farm and Ten Acres," Trixie said. "Moms mentioned it in passing one day. I guess Aunt Nell is the cause of Moms' interest in flowers and gardening."

​

Jim's brow quirked. "It's a garden cottage."

​

Trixie nodded. "Moms and I call it Nell's Cottage. Moms said that's how she always referred to it when Aunt Nell was alive." She handed Jim the key she wore around her neck. "Dan put a new lock on the doors for you. He did a ton of the heavy work," Trixie said. They looked at each other for long moments. "Aren't you going to open the door? I'm dying here!"

​

Silently, Jim unlocked the door. It opened into a great room with a small fireplace on the eastern side.

​

"I was originally thinking you'd need a private place to research and work on your thesis and later your dissertation. There are windows on all sides, so you get a delightful cross breeze." She was babbling but Jim's continued silence was unnerving her.

​

"Honey and I went to a few estate sales and rummaged through the attic at Crabapple Farm for some furniture. Not much, our budgets were kind of limited, but I think we did okay. We got all the linens from the estate sales, too. It was actually a lot of fun. Honey made the curtains. Mart and Dan replaced boards and then we all painted. Honey liked the pale lemon with the soft sagey green shutters but of course if you don't like it, you can change it.

"There's just a small kitchenette. We didn't have the money for an oven, but it's got a microwave and a coffee pot. There's a grill outback, too. And a fire pit. Mr. Maypenney had this small dorm refrigerator that we put in here. Back here is the bedroom and bathroom. Moms and Dad donated the sleigh bed. I guess it belonged to some great great someone like a thousand generations ago. There's a beautiful claw foot tub back there, too."

 

She trailed after Jim as he went up the stairs to the small loft. "The house doesn't have air conditioning," she continued chattering. "So, I'm not sure you'll be able to use the loft much in the heat of summer but the whole cottage is surrounded by shade. So maybe it won't be too bad. This old secretary was in here and Moms helped find a chair. Mart and Dan brought in the overstuffed chair and Honey and I found the reading light. We were going to build bookshelves in here, too, but I jumped the gun showing it to you before your birthday. We thought this would be your office and are you EVER going to say anything?"

Still silent, Jim ran his fingers over the fresh pine and lemon scented wood secretary.

 

Jim retraced his steps and finally took in what his friends – no, not just friends but family – had done for him. "The Bob-Whites did all this?"

"Well, and Moms. Gleeps, Jim! I didn't even show you the best part!" She grabbed his hand and tugged him into following her onto the back porch.

 

"There's a best part?" Jim asked with a rueful grin.

"Dan and Regan replaced some of the boards on the porch. You can look out over the game preserve from here." They walked into the rose garden. "Moms and Di did most of the garden. Aunt Nell was instrumental in getting Moms hooked on gardening. Apparently, your aunt and uncle created a hybrid rose called the Frayne Rose. It's a blush colored rose with a red center. I'm hoping the rose bushes all come up this summer, but of course it's too early for that –"

 

Jim kissed her. Not the gentle kisses or soft meaningful romantic kisses she'd been used to. This was an emotionally ripe, fierce kiss of possession and love and longing.

He hoisted her into his arms and her legs wrapped around his hips. Using the wall of the house to help support them, Jim poured his thanks and love out in his kiss.

 

How had he lucked into having the most wonderful girl in the world fall in love with him?

​

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong. ~ Mahatma Gandhi

 

 

The over sanitized air of Sleepyside General Hospital assaulted Jim's nose as he and Trixie made their way off the elevator. Scent memories of his parents dying in hospitals assaulted him and took his breath away.

Matt and Madeline Wheeler were not going to die, he reminded himself. But the memories remained.

 

"Brian said they gave your mom. Um. Mrs. Wheeler some prednisone for the hives and they think she should be fine. Honey said the docs want to keep them both over night for observation."

Jim nodded and his grip on her hand tightened almost painfully. "Honey said they were in the same room."

 

They stopped outside the room and Jim took a deep breath, panic rising in him. Trixie stood on her toes and planted a soft wet kiss to his lips. Their instant chemistry took hold and Jim simply held her and kissed his girl.
He smiled and touched his forehead to her's. "I needed that."

​

"I know. And your girl is right here. No need to go to the gym to relieve excess stress." Trixie cradled his face in her hand. "Now, go. I'll be out here in the hallway."

"You're not coming in?" Jim's breath caught.

 

Trixie shook her head, gently tracing the bruising around Jim's cheek and eye. "I don't think I can just yet, Jim. I know Mr. Wheeler is your and Honey's dad and he was poisoned. But he hit you." She rubbed her nose against the bridge of his. "How understanding would you be if I was bruised? Even if it were an accident?"

Jim nodded. Trixie bruised and beaten might be one of the few things that could bring him to violance. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. With a last glance at Trixie, he entered the hospital room like it was a firing squad.

 

"Matt. Madeline," Jim greeted, his voice neutral.

"Oh Jim," Madeline stood up and hugged him. Matt sat up a little straighter in his bed.

 

"I'm sorry, Jim." Anxious green eyes took in Jim's swollen eye and cut lip.

Jim shrugged. "I've taken worse."

 

Matt winced. "Yeah, I suppose you have."

"How are you feeling? Honey said you're both in overnight for observation but they're pretty sure you'll be fine."

 

Matt and Madeline exchanged a long look. "We'll be home by tomorrow afternoon. The bigger question is, what are you going to do?"

Jim caught his reflection in the mirror. Tall and muscular he was the epitome of strength and confidence. To himself and those precious few he let inside, he was still that boy insecure of his welcome.

 

"I'm going back to school. Finals are wrapping up."

"And afterwards?" Matt asked, his eyes narrowing.

 

Jim nodded. "I have one more full semester to finish for my undergrad degree. I'll need to find a place to live, Matt. Logically, I can understand what happened but you did a number on my trust."

Matt held his wife's hand for support. "If I could take it all back, I would."

 

Jim's brilliant green eyes – so similar to his adopted father – moistened with emotion. "I know you would. And someday, I hope we can work through this. But not now."

"You won't go far?" Madeline begged.

 

Jim shook his head. "No, not too far. The Bob-Whites fixed up Aunt Nell's garden cottage for me to study in. I might stay there for a while or maybe get an apartment close to Briarwood." He stared out the window for a moment. "Trixie wants to know if you were working on anything specific recently? Obviously, you're a wealthy business man and enemies aren't uncommon. But anything recent?"

Madeline and Matt exchanged another long look. "The last deal I was working on was opening up a new restaraunt. Honey can look on my laptop in my office. I was backing the Hakaito brothers opening up a hibachi restaraunt in town. But I can't see how that could have created any enemies. It's not like people have to eat Japanese food."

 

Nervously, Jim checked his watch. "I need to go. I have to get Trixie home and then head back to school." He turned to leave.

"Jim?" It was Matt's voice, hoarse with emotion. "Can you forgive me?"

 

Jim turned to look at the man who had taken him in, fed him, clothed him, adopted him and loved him. "Of course I forgive you, Matt. But this is too close of a memory for me. I can't forget and move back in like nothing happened. When I left Jones' farm, I vowed I would never be hit again. I would never put myself in that situation again. I was just a kid then. But it's my one non-negotiable.

"I'll work hard, I'm not afraid of hunger, or survival. But I will never let anyone hit me again."

 

Matt nodded, understanding and feeling nauseated at his own actions at the same time. It would be easier if Jim had fought and railed. Matt's own temper would be able to cleanse his guilt. Jim's quiet acceptance and forgiveness left nothing but shame.

"That's understandable, Jim. Good luck on your finals."

 

Jim nodded. "I'll call tomorrow night. See how everyone is doing."

Madeline's eyes filled with tears. "I'd like that very much, Jim."

 

Matthew and Madeline embraced. It was an olive branch. It was enough. For now.

​

A woman uses her intelligence to find reasons to support her intuition. ~ Gilbert K. Chesterton

​

Bob-White Clubhouse​

Next day, after school
Trixie pulled out a dry erase board and wrote what they knew about the case. Brian's pictures from the kitchen were taped to a wall.

 

Jim and Brian had gone back to school, leaving the Bob-Whites to their specialty: crime solving.
"What do we know about Chef Scott?" Trixie asked.

 

Honey looked at her notes. "Culinary Institute of America grad. Specialized in edible flowers. He came highly recommended." She held up the letters of recommendation from her father's files.

Dan picked them up and looked through. "One of these professional recommendations is local. Mart and I will track them down, see if they pan out face to face."

 

"I'm going to interview Cook," Honey decided. "See what kind of background information or gossip Chef Scott may have talked about."

Trixie nodded. She knew Honey wanted to stay close at home right now. "Di? There are also two personal references."

 

Her eyes narrowed in thought. "Mart, why don't you and Di take one set of references and Dan and I take the other? Since you boys have your driver's licenses and we don't yet, it seems a better division of labor."

On the board she wrote "Motive, Opportunity, Means"

​

"We already know she had opportunity and means," Diana said, looking at Brian's pictures. "We need to concentrate on motive."

"The restaurant business is suspicious, though," Honey said. "But I can't picture the Hakaito brothers poisoning my father."

 

Trixie wrote "restaurant" on the white board. "What if your dad and the Hakaitos took a property that Chef Scott wanted?"

Dan nodded. "That's where the interviews come in."

 

"And Molinson's investigation?" Mart asked with a grin.

Trixie sniffed. "Molinson needs to keep up. Belden-Wheeler-Frayne-Lynch-Mangen are on the case."

 

They left and locked up the clubhouse.

Honey reached out and held Trixie's hand, causing the group to stop. "You did it again."

 

Trixie looked at her blankly. "Did what?"

"Gave me my family back," Honey said. "The first time was in the beginning when Jim first came to live here." Her voice shook. "Then when you encouraged me to talk to Mother I got a mom again." She wiped her tears and Di hugged her. "With your idea for a cottage for Jim, he won't really be leaving. He'll be just a few minute walk away. And now, we're going to try and figure out who wanted to make my family sick or even kill us." Mart handed Honey his handkerchief. "I owe you my everything, Trix."

 

Overcome with the emotion, Trixie fought to respond. "Well, not to rip off your rose colored glasses," Trixie began with a wet hiccup, "but I think we're about even on the Jim ledger entry. You got a wonderful brother and I got…" she blushed. "I got the most wonderful boy in the world." The three girls hugged. "And besides, you keep my oldest brother busy so he's not sticking his worried nose all up in my business."

​

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Murder is commoner among cooks than among members of any other profession. ~ W.H., Auden

 

 

Saturday morning
Bob-White clubhouse​

All Bob-Whites in attendance
"So, we're all here," Trixie said, after calling the meeting to order. "Reports. Mart? Di? You guys can go first."

​

"We took Chef Scott's personal contact list from his resume," Di said. "We interviewed his neighbor Ruth Ann Wilson."

"Ruth Ann, it seems," Mart said, taking over the story, "is a waitress at the Dusty Cauldron, a restaurant in White Plains. Scott was their sous chef."

 

"According to Ruth Ann, Scott was temperamental and definitely knows how to hold a grudge. He also has a highly annoying catch phrase of 'fabulous-amundo.'" Di added.

"So why let her name be put down for a reference," Jim asked.

 

"What part of knowing how to hold a grudge is confusing you, old chap?" Mart asked. "Apparently the dear Ruth Ann has been known to overindulge in the adult beverage department. It was Scott keeping her secret that allowed Ruth Ann to stay employed."

Trixie nodded and wrote "blackmail" on the dry erase board.

 

"Trix and I basically got the same story from her professional references," Dan said. "Highly emotional and easily annoyed were the reports. Same stupid catch phrase."

Trixie nodded and wrote "anger issues" on the board. "Do you think Chef Scott has dreams of being the next Emeril Lagasse?

 

"Honey? What did you find out?" Trixie asked.

"According to Cook, before taking the position with my parents, Chef Scott was trying to get backing for her own Italian restaurant. Something happened right before they were due to sign for the building but Cook didn't know what."

 

"Where was she going to open up her place?" Brian asked, drawing a quick map of Sleepyside. He put an "X" on Main street where the Hakaito brothers were opening their Japanese restaraunt."

Honey read off the address and Brian marked a "Y". "They aren't even close to each other," Jim muttered. "I'm not getting the connection."

 

Dan gasped as an idea occurred to him. "The liquor license!" he blurted out. "There are only a limited amount of liquor licenses issued in an area, especially one as small as Sleepyside. I wonder if that's it?"

Dutifully, Trixie marked down "liquor license" under the "motive" column of her chart. "Do you think we have enough to bring to Molinson?" she asked.

 

"What?" Mart teased. "The Belden-Wheeler-Frayne-Lynch-Mangen agency isn't going to complete the arrest and investigate further?"

Trixie shook her head. "This is too important. Too near and dear to all our hearts to risk not giving what we know to the police."

 

Jim stood beside his girl and hugged her. Ignoring Dan's wolf whistle and the Belden brother's cries of objection, Jim kissed Trixie.

An hour later...

Sergeant Molinson stared at the crowd of teens around him. "You'll take us seriously this time," Trixie stated, Jim at her back and Honey by her side. Together they were an unstoppable wall of determination.

"You know your little interviews won't stand up in court," Molinson said, his tone derisive and dismissive.

 

"That's why we came to you with what we have," Jim said, his solidarity with Trixie unquestioning. His green eyes met Molinson's gaze. "The Wheeler's are important in Sleepyside as well as in New York and in the world economy. You are not going to let our suspicions die out. You will prove that you're worthy of the badge and get interviews that will stand up in court."

"Unless you don't think you can handle the case?" Diana asked, holding Mart's hand. "Because I'm sure my dad will be more than happy to help fund a private investigation." Her violet eyes also met Molinson's gaze. "You will put your prejudices aside and use our background information and solve this case."

 

Brian's deep voice joined the chorus. "Matt and Madeline Wheeler deserve justice, Sergeant. You always lecture my sister about getting involved. This time, we're coming to you with our evidence and our suspicions. The least you could do is respect our time and talent on this."

Brian's lecture was interrupted as they saw Chef Scott being led away in handcuffs.

 

Molinson's smirk was ignored by them all as they left the station.

​

There is no spectacle on earth more appealing than that of a beautiful woman in the act of cooking dinner for someone she loves. ~ Thomas Wolfe

 

 

Jim's 19th birthday Celebration
Nell's Cottage

"No," Jim said as he walked into the cottage. "We are not watching another Boy Meets Grill marathon."

"But I love Bobby Flay!" Trixie argued. "And I received the complete show on DVD for my birthday!"

 

Jim rolled his eyes. "Who got that for you? I don't remember that while you were opening gifts."

Trixie grinned. "Dan gave them to me. Wasn't that sweet?"

 

"Yeah, remind me to thank Dan," Jim said with a snort.

Without waiting for him to say anything further, Trixie continued. "I don't see what the big deal is. Chef Flay is teaching me to grill more than just hamburgers. Who knew cooking could be so much fun? And I thought you liked grilled food?"

 

"I do. I just don't like him."

Trixie sniffed and tossed her curls. "The Bob-Whites are coming over later. Di is bringing over a movie and Honey is in charge of your birthday cake."

 

"Do I even want to know what movie?" Jim asked.

"I think she said Memphis Belle. It's one of our favorites." She grinned goofily, thinking of Eric Stoltz. She just didn't see what Di saw in Matthew Modine, but she almost agreed with Honey that Harry Connick, Jr. was a hottie. Almost.

 

She paused the cooking DVD and hugged Jim. "How was your visit with your parents?" she asked.

Jim nodded. "It was okay. A little uncomfortable but it's getting better. I told them about the job offer at St. Cici's and getting accepted at NYU's evening graduate program. In a year or two, I'm hoping I can take some time and work on my thesis." He rubbed his face with tired, calloused hands and mussed his hair.

He had other, Trixie inspired plans. But for the here and now, life was on track again.

A/N:​

A quick apology to all the Matt Wheeler fans out there. My daughter is one of them and has been scolding me for 1) poisoning him and 2) making him hit Jim. In my defense, tho, the only way to make 2) happen was to have 1) happen. (I'm sure all those fluent in Honey speak will understand.)
This story occurs 2 years prior to Jim's 21st Birthday story.

Both foxglove and rhubarb leaves are poisonous. An adult would have to eat a lot in order to die but not quite as much to make them sick.
KidsPeace is in Allentown, PA. It just seemed like a place that Jim would have interned at. From their website:

Founded in 1882, KidsPeace provides a unique psychiatric hospital; a comprehensive range of residential treatment programs; accredited educational services; and a variety of foster care and community-based treatment programs to help people in need overcome challenges and transform their lives. KidsPeace provides emotional and physical health care and educational services in an atmosphere of teamwork, compassion and creativity.
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St. Cecilia's is the patron saint of musicians. St. Cecilia's House in Briarwood, NY is an entirely made up place.
Emeril Lagasse is a restauranteur and celebrity chef with a famous catch phrase of "BAM".

Bobby Flay is a NY chef and restauranteur. I've eaten at his restaurant Mesa Grill and it's a-may-zing. I highly recommend! He's had many shows on Food Network, including Boy Meets Grill. He's also noted for being tall with red hair, freckles, and from New York. I can't imagine why Jim isn't a huge fan. (bwahahahaha)

Memphis Belle is a wonderful movie with Eric Stoltz, Matthew Modine, and Harry Connick, Jr. I figured it was a natural favorite for the female Bob-Whites. If you're not sure why, just look their pictures up in IMDB.