A Perfectly
Perfect Christmas

The magazine rested on the side table in an almost careless manner, one corner curling over the edge. Brian narrowed his eyes at it. His wife of three months would never just leave something there – and she expected that he would follow her example; more than once he had been chastised for leaving keys, coins or papers in that very same place. Without picking it up, he examined the cover. A towering Christmas tree stood in an immaculate living room, bedecked with so many sparkling ornaments that the tree itself could barely be seen. Beneath it lay piles of perfectly wrapped presents.

A hint, I think. The thought flitted across his mind. But a hint of what?

Next, he sought out his wife. He found her in the kitchen, stirring a pot of aromatic stew.

“Hi, Honey.” He leaned in and kissed her. “That looks wonderful. Is it a new recipe?”

She nodded. “I hope it tastes okay.”

“I’m sure it will be delicious,” he answered.

Sliding an arm around her waist, he stood behind her and pressed his face against her hair. Detecting a different scent than usual, he sought out a stray strand with his free hand and examined it. She had grown her hair out for their wedding. Afterwards, she had wanted it back the way it was before, but couldn’t bring herself to cut it all off at once. He knew she was sensitive about it, but for the life of him could not tell the difference, except by smell.

“New haircut? It looks good.”

Putting down her spoon, she turned in his arms. “It looks almost exactly the same as it did this morning.”

“It looked good then, too,” he told her, smiling.

She gave him a long, hard look, then shook her head. Brian was left with the heightened impression that something was wrong, but he was still unsure of what it could be.

“And how was your day?” he asked.

A moment later, Honey’s face was pressed against his chest and her arms were tight around his waist.

He wrapped his other arm around her and squeezed. “That bad?”

“It’s terrible! All the plans are changing and no one is coming and nothing is how I wanted it to be and our first Christmas together is ruined!”

“Ruined?” He hesitated for a moment, then plunged ahead. “Honey, it’s early November. I don’t think our Christmas is ruined quite yet. How about if you start at the beginning and we’ll see if we can figure something out.”

When she pulled back a little, he realised that she was crying.

“What is it?” he asked, wiping away a tear.

“Well, first I heard that my parents are going to be in Paris, and they invited us to spend Christmas there too, but we can’t, so they’ll be there and we’ll be here, and I won’t get to see them, which won’t be the first time, but I thought, at least, this year we might get to spend the day together, only now we won’t.”

He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “But we’ll get together for a celebration with them some other time, won’t we? Either before they leave, or after they get back?”

“That’s not the point!”

“Okay,” he soothed. “What else?”

Then I heard that your parents are going to spend Christmas at your uncle’s place in Iowa, and they invited us, too, only–”

“I see,” he interrupted, fearing a repeat of her previous statement. “Is that all?”

“No! Then I called Di, and her parents are going to be in Arizona at her uncle’s place, and she’s planning on going, too, but she said she’d change plans and stay here if we wanted her to, but I told her that she didn’t need to do that.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, her hair rumpling against him. “And then I called Trixie, and she and Jim are going to Paris. They’re so excited and I can’t bear to take that away from them, just because you have to work.”

He closed his eyes and suppressed a sigh. “Do you want to go to Paris, Honey?”

“Not without you.” He was relieved by the vehemence in her voice. “Never without you.”

“Okay then, is there anyone among our family and friends who could spend Christmas here with us?”

“No.” Another tear flowed down her face. “I checked with all of them. They all have plans far from here, and I can’t leave because I need to stay with you, and you can’t leave because you have to work.”

Brian thought about this for a moment. “Well, it’s not the end of the world for us to have our first married Christmas on our own, is it? We’ll just have to find ways to connect to each of the others as time allows.”

“Connect?”

“We’ll have some pre- or post-Christmas parties, shall we? As many of them as we need to see everyone.” He glanced around at their home, which could be called cosy, but never grand. “You wanted to do some entertaining. It looks like this is your big chance.”

“And on the day?” Tears still glistened in her eyes, but at least she looked hopeful. “What will we do then?”

“It will be the most romantic Christmas you’ve ever had,” he promised.

Honey paused, thinking. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a romantic Christmas before.”

Brian smiled. “Well, I don’t have much to compete with, then.”

At last, she laughed. “Oh, but I have a lot of expectations already.”

“Champagne and caviar?” He tried to keep the distaste off his face; caviar was not at all to his taste.

She shook her head. “No… I don’t think so. I think, maybe, you should leave the food to me.”

“If that’s what you want.” He dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of the culinary genius.”

Her eyes widened and she turned back to her pot. “The so-called culinary genius had better keep an eye on her cooking, if we want something edible on our plates this evening.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you have any ideas to include.”

A soft smile appeared on her lips as she glanced back at him over her shoulder. “I will. And thank you.”

He gave her one last squeeze and another kiss. “You’re welcome.”

***

Before Brian had even thought about the logistics for their parties, Honey had negotiated and set dates with all their family and friends. The Bob-Whites would descend upon them a few days before Christmas and there would be a gathering for each side of the family afterwards. The Belden side would be held at Crabapple Farm, but Honey was eager to cook for her family in her own home. With something to look forward to, her mood lifted somewhat, but Brian knew it was not enough.

“I think the Bob-White party is going to be the most fun,” she told him, one evening. “It’s kind of like the family we’ve made – parts of each of ours, plus extras. And, if it’s okay with you, I’m thinking that we’ll exchange gifts with each other then.”

“You don’t want to keep that for between us, on Christmas morning?” he asked, while considering the things he would like to get for her.

She giggled. “Don’t look so worried. I meant that we’d exchange appropriate gifts. I’ll let you keep the inappropriate ones for when we’re alone.”

“Inappropriate?” He smiled. “We’re married now.”

“I meant inappropriate for sharing in front of our friends, not inappropriate for any circumstances.” She shook a finger at him. “I will be very upset if you buy me a vacuum cleaner, or something.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” He pulled her close. “Besides, I thought I’d already mentioned that I was aiming for romantic.”

“You may have mentioned that, yes.”

“I don’t find vacuum cleaners at all romantic,” he confided, his lips against her ear.

She leaned into his arms. “You don’t?”

“No, I don’t.” One of his hands slid across her waist with sensuous slowness. “Slow cookers, on the other hand…”

She pulled back with a surprised laugh and slapped him gently on the arm. “If it’s got a cord, it’s not a present!”

“I’m joking,” he assured her, pulling her close once more. “I’m not thinking of anything like that for your present.”

The look she gave him was coy. “And what are you thinking of?”

“It’s going to be a surprise.”

Her fingers tugged the shirt free of his trousers and searched for sensitive skin to tickle. “But I want a hint.”

Brian tried hard not to laugh. “I’ve already given you a hint.”

“I want another.”

He took a step back, wanting to evade her searching fingers. “You’ll get another hint. On Christmas morning, when you see the size of the package.”

“I don’t believe you even know what you’re getting me,” she accused, advancing upon him with a determined look. “You’re just stalling.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. How do you know I haven’t bought something already?” He raised an eyebrow, even as he took a few more steps backward. “I might be done with my shopping already.”

An incredulous look sprang up on her face. “I don’t believe that for a minute.”

He had the grace to look repentant. “Well, no. I haven’t finished. I haven’t started. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan.”

With his next step backwards, his legs bumped against the bed. Honey gave him a push and he willingly fell onto his back.

“Now, this is just where I wanted you,” she purred, as she followed him down. “You won’t be able to resist my interrogation here.”

Brian could only laugh, and that for just a moment before her lips pressed against his. His secrets were safe, however, as all thought of further questioning was forgotten.

***

It did not take Brian many days to figure out that he needed some accomplices if his plan was to work. Once that idea was planted, it quickly grew. What their Christmas needed, he decided, was a contribution from each person who was special to them. Some of those would be easy to plan, while others needed extra thought. Excusing himself to his private study, he set about making contact with their family and friends. He decided to start with the easy ones and put a call through to Di.

“Table decorations,” she announced, after he had shared his idea. “Let me design the table decorations for the meal. You’ll have to actually do it on the day, but I’ll tell you what to put where.”

“You think you can trust me with that?” he asked, a smile in his voice.

“After I’ve coached you on it, yes.” She laughed. “Honey’s going to be so surprised. She thinks you have trouble doing more than matching the cutlery.”

“I do have trouble,” he answered, with a rueful shake of the head. “I don’t feel the need for flowers or candles. So long as I have a knife and fork, I’m happy.”

“Men!” Di teased. “So, do you happen to know Honey’s decorating theme?”

“Her what?”

“Never mind.” He could hear the pity in her voice. “I’ll get that from her myself, somehow. You are going to ask Dan for help with the drinks, aren’t you?”

His eyes widened with revelation. Until that moment, he had no idea of what Dan’s contribution could be, but it made perfect sense. Every Christmas for the past few years, Dan had been in charge of drinks at the Bob-White Christmas party and every year Honey found something that she adored among the offerings.

“Yeah, he’s on my list to call,” he answered, trying not to give away the fact that he hadn’t thought of that himself. “Thanks, Di. I’ll talk to you again soon.”

The call wound up and he placed the next one to his parents. His mother picked up and they shared several minutes of catching up before he came to the point of his call.

“I’ll bake some of those sugar cookies that Honey likes so much,” she promised, without any prompting at all. “Oh, and I have a new recipe to try this year; I’ll include some of them, if they’re good. And I haven’t made gingerbread shapes for a few years. Maybe I could add some of those.”

“It’ll only be the two of us,” he reminded her, with rising alarm. The way she was going, he might end up with a mountain of cookies. “Just one kind will be fine.”

“If you say so, Brian.” Her tone of voice belied her words and he was certain there would be at least four varieties when the package was opened. “And, if you want me to, I can get Bobby to think of some sort of contribution, too.”

“That would be great, Moms.”

When the conversation with his mother was over, he spoke to his father for a short time.

“I want you to add something too, Dad,” he explained, after telling the plans already in place. “I’m sorry I don’t have a ready-made suggestion for you, but I’m hoping you can think of something.”

“Let me see…” A short silence ensued. “I’ve got it. I’ll make up some of my fire-starters and send them along. Honey likes those, doesn’t she?”

“She sure does.” He smiled in reminiscence of several romantic evenings by the fire. “That would be great, Dad. Thanks.”

“No problem.” He sighed. “I’m really sorry we’ve done this to you, Brian. I should have realised that you’d be stuck at work.”

“It doesn’t matter. In fact, I’m hoping this will be for the best.”

“Well, I’ll let you get on with your plans. I suppose you have a lot more calls to make.”

It was Brian’s turn to sigh. “Yeah, quite a few more.”

They said their goodbyes and disconnected. Almost at once, the phone started ringing.

“Belden residence,” he answered, irritated at the interruption, but trying not to show it.

“Brian!” his sister greeted. “Di told me all about your plan. You’re going to ask us for something too, aren’t you? Or do I have to threaten to hurt you or something?”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m asking you and Jim for something. I wouldn’t leave you out of this.”

“That’s great. I know just the thing. You’re going to love it.”

He picked up his pen and pulled his list towards himself, ready to write. “I’m sure we will. What’s it going to be?”

“I’m not telling you that.” Her indignation came through, loud and clear. “It’s going to be a surprise.”

Brian frowned. “But how will I know what to plan for it?”

He heard the huff of her breath and could imagine the exasperated expression she probably wore. “You don’t need to plan anything. I’ll bring it along when we come for the Bob-White party and it can just fit in whenever.”

His frown deepened. “But I’m trying to make a plan!”

She laughed. “You don’t have to plan everything. You didn’t have a written plan for your wedding night, did you? Wait! If you did, then I don’t want to know.”

“Of course I didn’t.” He heard her sigh of relief and could not help but tease a little. “I kept it memorised. You know, so I didn’t have read it in the dark.”

“Brian!” Her tone mixed horror and amusement.

“So, is this mystery item just from you, or from Jim as well?”

“From both of us,” she answered, at once. “We’re really sorry you’re not going to be in Paris with us. We thought you’d be there, too, which would have been so much fun.”

“You’ll have fun without us,” he answered softly. “And we’ll have fun here.”

“Great. Just don’t tell me about it, okay? Have all the fun you want.” She changed the subject abruptly. “So, do you need any more help from me, or do you just want me to stop bothering you so you can get on with things?”

“You’re not bothering me, Trixie.”

“Whatever,” she answered. “I’ll talk to you soon. Bye!”

He returned the greeting, then dialled Mart’s number.

“Ah, esteemed elder kinsman,” Mart greeted him, as soon as he had identified himself. “I was wondering when I would hear from you.”

“The Bob-White grapevine is in fine form this evening, I see.” He lifted his eyes heavenwards. “Who was it who told you?”

“Uh, actually, it was Dad.”

Brian shook his head at his own mistake and explained the plan once again.

“And what did you want me to contribute?” Mart asked, when it was done. “You seem to be running out of things you might need. Unless it’s music.”

As he had not previously considered music, and also had not thought of anything for Mart to do, Brian was greatly relieved. “That would be wonderful. Honey loves music.”

“And you’re not the best at choosing it,” Mart added with a snigger. “Fine. That can be my part.”

“Which will be very much appreciated. Thanks, Mart.”

“Not a problem. I’ll program a play list for you and set it all up at the Bob-White party – that is, if you think you can keep it a secret that long.”

Brian thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess that will work.”

That conversation, too, wound down and Brian got in touch with Dan.

“You only just caught me,” Dan told his friend, when the call was answered. “If this is going to take more than a minute, can I call you back?”

Brian gave a scanty outline of the plan, ending with, “Can I count on you for a drinks menu?”

“Sure,” Dan answered. “I’ll be in touch. See you.”

The tone sounded in his ear. Brian put the phone down and contemplated the last and most difficult call. The last thing he wanted to do was offend his new parents-in-law, but he also had very little clue of what he could ask of them. Of course, it was unlikely that they would be home. He could hardly believe his luck in contacting so many of their family and friends in one sitting. He took a breath and dialled. Margery Trask answered the call on the second ring. He introduced himself and asked whether either of the Wheelers were there.

“Yes, they both are, Brian. Which would you like to speak to first? Or would you like to speak to them together?”

He shut his eyes for a moment. “Together, if that’s agreeable to them.”

“Just a moment and I’ll set it up,” she promised.

He fidgeted while on hold, shifting his list and pen back and forth from one place to another. After what seemed an interminable interval, the connection was made.

“Brian! What can we do for you?” Matthew Wheeler’s voice asked.

For what seemed like the twentieth time, Brian explained his idea, mentioning each of the contributions that he already knew about.

“You seem to have left us for last,” Madeleine noted, in a tone of voice he could not quite place.

He checked his list and saw that she was correct. “I, uh, well, I started with the people for whom there was an obvious thing to ask – like my mother and the cookies. I knew she’d like to send some and in fact she volunteered before I could ask. And I knew that Diana would decorate something, even if I didn’t know what it would be.”

“But we are much harder to predict. I think you can take that as a compliment, Maddie,” his father-in-law answered.

“I wasn’t intending to take it any other way.” There was a note of exasperation in her voice, but the overlying tone was one of amusement. “Brian, dear, am I understanding correctly that you want something personal – not just something we can buy, but something that will remind Honey of us on Christmas Day?”

“Yes, that’s precisely what I’m after.” He swallowed, hoping that they would be able to come up with something, as his mind was blank. “You don’t have to decide right now. It’s okay if you think about it for a while.”

“We certainly will, and we’ll let you know what we come up with,” Matthew replied. “Though, I’m not sure what that something could be. I’m not one to make things, as a rule, unless you include deals. I could write her a note, I suppose.”

“That’s it!” Excitement filled Maddie’s voice. “I know just the thing. It won’t be much to look at, Brian, but I think Honey will appreciate it nonetheless. We’ll send them along before we leave for Paris, but you’ll have to be sure not to open the box.”

“Okay. Thank you.” He felt slightly confused by the last directive, but let it pass. “And thank you for your time. I really appreciate it.”

“Not at all. This is, in a very real way, our fault after all.” Matthew now sounded brusque. “We’ll do whatever we need to do to help, you know.”

Once more, Brian thanked them and the conversation wound up. He sat back in his seat and contemplated his achievements. Most of the plans were now in place and he just had to wait for them to come to fruition.

***

The time from then until the Bob-White party went by in a flash. In the half-hour before their friends were expected, Brian kept busy with the list of jobs Honey had given him. She radiated happiness as she bustled around their kitchen, preparing all manner of good things to eat. Brian kept out of her way, working on other last minute tasks.

He smiled as he heard the sound of her singing, which carried through the little house. It warmed his heart to hear the evidence of her lift in mood since that cold November day when she learned of their families’ plans.

The doorbell rang and Brian hurried to answer it.

“Jim, Trixie. Come in!” He opened the door wide and stepped back to let them past. “It’s great to see you both.”

“Are we first?” Trixie looked around as if one of the others might be hiding somewhere. “How did that happen?”

“Honey’s in the kitchen. Why don’t you go and say hello?” Once she was out of hearing, Brian turned to Jim. “It looks like our plan worked.”

“Like a charm,” his brother-in-law replied, grinning. “No doubt she’ll find out before the night is through that we gave her a different time from everyone else, but at least we’re not late.”

The bell rang again. This time, Brian admitted Mart and Dan, who had arrived from different directions at almost the same time. Dan carried a large box.

“Come in!” Brian urged, as a chill breeze followed them.

Jim stepped out of the crowded entryway, tucking the basket he had brought under his arm.

“Where can I unpack this?” Dan asked, indicating his box which was on the floor at his feet, being too large for the tiny hall table. “I have some things in it for you.”

“My study?” Brian suggested. “Anyone else have things for Christmas Day?”

“Me.” Jim spoke from the next room. “Trix and I have our contribution right here.”

“Mine is ready also,” Mart added, holding up an MP3 player. “You have a compatible device for amplification, I trust?”

Brian nodded. “Yes, and I even know how to connect it up.”

“I did not doubt that for a minute.”

The four entered Brian’s inner sanctum and the three visitors each placed a contribution on the desk. Jim’s package was wrapped – rather incongruously – in newspaper, and measured roughly twelve inches square. Dan’s consisted of numerous bottles and one mysterious jar. Lastly, he pulled out a sheet of instructions and handed it to Brian.

“This is what you have to do, okay? Exactly as it says.” He gave his friend a look. “Even if you think you know better, just follow the instructions, okay?”

“I don’t usually have trouble with following instructions, you know.” Brian ran an eye down the sheet, his eyebrows lifting as he read. “But are you sure about this?”

Dan laughed. “It will be fine. Trust me.”

“Okay, I’ll trust you. But your secret ingredient is… strange.”

“You’ll keep my secret, though?”

“Yes,” Brian answered, without hesitation. “I don’t think we want that getting out.”

“Good.”

“So, what’s your contribution, Jim?” Mart asked, as the doorbell rang one last time.

Jim laughed. “Well, it’s a mystery, actually.”

Mart frowned. “You mean, a secret?”

“That, too.”

Brian left them to let Di in. She breezed into the house with an apology for lateness and, having divested herself of her coat, proceeded to lead Brian around the house, speaking in a low voice.

“Before I go and see Honey, I need to show you what to do, okay? Here is a picture of what you’re going to do. And all the things you need that I can’t guarantee you’ll just have to hand.” She handed over the paper and a box. “Here are the instructions. Now, look in here. You’re to use this tablecloth, okay?”

Brian nodded, frowning. “Okay, I guess.”

“Exactly that one. Not this one, okay?”

They looked the same to Brian, but he didn’t say so. “Let me put it in my study. What next?”

She took him to a different area. “This cutlery. These plates. These glasses. Okay?”

“Yes.” He draped the tablecloth over his arm, shifted the box and picked up a spoon, plate and glass for later reference. “And the things in this photo?”

She opened a cabinet. “Here. You see everything else you need?”

He nodded. “Thanks, Di. Let me just put all these things away. Maybe you can go and say hello to Honey in the kitchen.”

She smiled and did so. Brian made his way to his study and looked at the supplies laid out. His mother had delivered an enormous box of cookies, along with a box of pinecone fire lighters from his father and a hot chocolate making kit from Bobby. The Wheelers had their items delivered by courier. They had come in two very small boxes, well sealed and labelled Do Not Open Until Christmas! All of the Bob-White contributions were now here. He hoped that he could do Di’s ideas justice on the day, but for now there were more important things to think about. He closed the door on the study and joined the party.

***

The last few days before Christmas went by in a flurry of activity. Brian’s shift on Christmas Eve ended late enough that his wife was peacefully sleeping by the time he got in. He walked through the silent house, seeing that everything was ready for the morning.

Honey awoke long before him and he roused to the smell of breakfast cooking. He jumped out of bed and hurried to join her.

“Mmm, that smells good.” He slipped an arm around her waist from behind her. “Merry Christmas, Honey.”

She turned in his arms and kissed him. “Merry Christmas, Brian.”

He sighed in disappointment when she turned back to her cooking. A few minutes later, however, he brightened as she placed a steaming plate of all his favourites in front of him.

They talked companionably through their meal, then adjourned to the living room for an exchange of gifts. As the more family-friendly of those had been given a few days before, this evolved into a different kind of exchange.

Later, as they lay together in their bed, the covers pulled close around them, Brian remarked, “I can’t say that I find this part of the day disappointing. Just think: if things had gone to plan, we’d be in the midst of our families by now.”

Honey snuggled closer. “I don’t feel as disappointed now as I thought I was going to. I loved the Bob-White party, and all of us together, laughing and talking and eating, just like old times; and I’m looking forward to the family parties in a week or so, but it’s wonderful to have this day, just for us, without any outside distractions.”

“Ah. About that…”

“Brian Belden, what have you done?” she demanded, in a stern voice.

All of a sudden, his idea did not seem so great. “Well, I…”

“What?” Her tone had softened, and her hand now rested on his chest.

He decided to just admit it. “I asked all our friends and family to send something as a contribution to our day.”

She was silent for a minute, but it seemed like an eternity. “What sort of things?”

“I don’t know what all of them are,” he admitted, “but Dan’s sent me instructions and ingredients for drinks, and Mart’s programmed a music play list, and Moms has sent cookies, and Trixie and Jim have – apparently – sent a mystery, and please Honey, don’t cry!”

She made a choking sound and the hand on his chest balled into a fist and beat softly against him. “Don’t you know, by now, the difference between good crying and bad crying?”

“Apparently, not.” He wiped a tear away. “Do you mean that you’re pleased about this?”

“Pleased? Pleased doesn’t begin to cover it.” She kissed him deeply. “It’s perfectly perfect. Thank you.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, but she pulled back after only a moment.

“Please don’t be offended,” she asked, “but if you do that now, I won’t find out about all these surprises for hours and now I’m so curious I could burst.”

She hurriedly dressed, while Brian lay back and watched. When she was finished, she turned to find him contemplating her.

“Get out of bed! I want my surprises right now.” She shook her head at her own impatience. “I’m going to start preparing lunch, okay? And you can get everything ready.”

He nodded and dragged himself from the warm bed. “If I must.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but must have seen the twinkle in his eye.

***

As Honey worked in the kitchen, Brian tried to follow the instructions he had been given by both Di and Dan. He began with setting the table, which turned out to be more complicated than he had previously realised. Di’s instructions were explicit on what to put where. He stood back and compared the result to the photo she had supplied and, deciding it was as close as he was going to get, lit the candles.

Next, he prepared the drinks, following Dan’s secret recipe to the letter. The secret ingredient caused him to pause, but he gritted his teeth and did as asked. On tasting the finished product, he had to admit that it tasted good.

“Are you nearly ready?” Honey asked, poking her head into the room. She gasped. “Oh! It looks wonderful. Did Di design that for you?”

Brian tried to look offended. “What makes you think that?”

She giggled. “Everything coordinates. You even have the right tablecloth, and not the one that’s too short.”

At that, he admitted defeat. “Yes, she specified absolutely everything. Do you like it?”

She nodded and ducked back to the kitchen. Moments later, she returned carrying two plates just as Brian set the music playing. He poured two glasses of Dan’s special secret Christmas punch and set one in front of her. She took a sip and smiled.

“It tastes just right.”

“Don’t ask me what’s in there. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to know.”

You can say that again! he was tempted to add.

When it was time to clear the plates and bring the next course, Honey rose from the table.

“You can bring out the next surprise,” she suggested. “Did my parents send anything? Can theirs be next?”

“Yes, theirs can be next – but I don’t know what they are, so I can’t tell if they’re appropriate right now.”

“Let’s try.” She returned to the kitchen, while Brian retrieved the two packages, along with something to help open them.

“I wonder what they can be?” Honey set down two more plates and took her seat. “Shall I open one?”

“Go ahead,” Brian answered, while loading his fork with potatoes. “I’m curious, too.”

She slit the tape along one side of the box and her nose twitched. “On second thoughts, I think I’ll leave this until a little later. Do you have Jim and Trixie’s one?”

He pulled out the newspaper parcel from under the table. “This is it.”

“Well don’t put that on my white tablecloth!” Honey urged. “What was she thinking?”

Brian shrugged. You never could tell with his sister. “I think we might just enjoy our food and each other’s company, don’t you?”

Honey smiled. “But I was feeling so impatient.”

“It must be catching; maybe we should spend more time alone together so that you can learn patience from me.”

“I think I like that plan.” She took a sip of her drink. “But then again, I like spending time with Trixie, too.”

“We’ll see her at the Farm in about a week,” he reminded her. “This is really delicious, Honey.”

Their conversation turned to other topics until the meal was over. Once both of them had put down their cutlery, Honey turned back to the packages.

“This one’s from my mother.”

“How can you tell?” On the outside, the two boxes were identical.

She handed it to him. “Smell.”

He raised it to his nose and squeezed the box a little. “Her perfume.”

Honey nodded. She held out a hand and he gave the box back to her. With deft fingers, she opened it the rest of the way and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

“She’s written me a note, a beautiful note.” A tear ran down her face as she read, and this time Brian was certain that it was good crying. He reached over and squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back, then picked up the other box. “Oh, smell this one. It’s not scent. How did he do this?”

Brian took the box and smelt the earthy scent. “Oil from some sort of pine, I think.”

She opened it up and read what her father had written to her. Once more, tears shone in her eyes.

“Thank you for arranging this, Brian. I can’t say how much it means to me.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered, barely able to find his voice.

“So, dessert…” she trailed off. “Were you thinking…”

He wondered what, exactly, she was asking. “I thought we might take it into the living room. My father sent fire starters–”

“Made of pinecones?” She brightened at once.

“Yes. And I think I mentioned that Moms sent cookies – not that I want to displace whatever you’ve prepared.”

“We can eat both,” she offered. “Did she send any of the sugar cookies?”

“Does she have any recipes for cookies that she didn’t send? There’s a mountain!”

“There’s an old lady across the street who’d like a share of them.”

“Good thinking,” he answered. “But for now, I’m thinking you and me, with our desserts, in front of the fire.”

“Solving Jim and Trixie’s mystery,” she added. “I’ll get the pie. Don’t start the fire without me. You know I love that part.”

He poured two more glasses of punch and carried them to the living room. By the time Honey joined him, all was ready and he just had to set a match to the fire he had laid.

Honey settled back on the floor with her back against the sofa. She took a spoonful of pie and, while she ate, found the first direction on the newspaper package.

“Dear Honey,” she read, aloud. “You, me and Jim first met over a mystery, and we’ve had so many mysteries since that I couldn’t think of anything better for us to give you for Christmas. So, unwrap a layer, read the clue and see if you can solve it before we get back. Love and lots of hugs from Trixie and Jim.”

Brian smiled in satisfaction as he settled next to his wife. “Couldn’t we avoid mysteries for just one Christmas?”

She shook her head. “So far, this has been my best Christmas ever. And a mystery to solve will be the icing on the cake.”

He leaned in to kiss her. “I’m glad you’re having a good day. I was worried for you.”

She returned his kiss with interest. “You’ve made everything better. I love you, Brian.”

“And I love you, Honey.” And for the next little while, the mystery was forgotten.

The End

Merry Christmas, Julia! I hope you enjoyed this little peek into Brian and Honey’s newly-married lives and that you have a great Christmas and a happy new year.

Author’s notes: This story was written for the annual Jix authors’ Secret Santa and the original recipient was Julia (Juliastoz). She asked for a character-centred story, preferably not featuring grumpy and overprotective Brian. I have had trouble with Brian being grumpy in the past, but luckily this time he seemed quite mellow. Perhaps it was the newly-wed bliss.

A very big thank you to Mary N. (Dianafan), who edited for me and laughed in all the right places. Your help and encouragement are very much appreciated, Mary! Thank you!

Please note: Trixie Belden is a registered trademark of Random House Publishing. This site is in no way associated with Random House and no profit is being made from these pages.

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