Part 3

Friday, December 4

The snow that had fallen overnight had truly created a winter wonderland. Jim and Honey walked down from the Manor House and all along the way, the rays of the setting sun glinted and sparkled on the freshly fallen snow. Halfway down the drive, they were met by Brian and Trixie, who hurled rather soft snowballs in their general direction. Jim wiped the detritus of a particularly well-aimed snowball from his chin, and bent down to quickly mold one himself, which he tossed at Trixie. She put her hands in front of her face, but too late to stop the missile that crumbled on her forehead.

“Mart and Dan have gone ahead to light the oil burner and knock the dust off the table in the meeting room,” Brian said, ignoring his sister’s sputters as she brushed the snowball fragments from her eyes. He shook hands with Jim and then made a deep bow to Honey. “May I escort you, Miss Wheeler?” he asked. Honey’s cheeks flamed but she nodded with a smile, and the pair went on ahead.

“It didn’t take four of us to light the stove, so Brian and I decided to meet the two of you,” Trixie said as she brushed the last snow fragments away. She stuck her tongue out at Jim, but her blue eyes danced. Trixie’s energy was infectious and always seemed to set the air to vibrating. He leaned close to her and looked down, grinning despite himself. “I’m glad you took my advice,” he said.

“What advice was that?” Her nose wrinkled inquisitively.

“That you should take up wearing snow mascara!” He chuckled and she sniffed in disdain.

“Just wait, Frayne,” she threatened. “I’ll get you back!”

“Ha! You already got me first.” He laughed again. “Race you to the clubhouse!”

Both were red-faced and panting when they reached the compact little building, formerly the overgrown and dilapidated, long-unused gatehouse for the Manor House estate, now clean, warm and snug thanks to the efforts of the Bob-Whites.

A general chorus of hellos ensued while Jim and Trixie hung up their outerwear. Diana Lynch arrived just as Trixie and Jim sat down.

“We now have a quorum!” Mart announced. “Or at least, everyone is here. Diana, there’s a seat next to me, coincidentally.”

The dark-haired girl blushed but took the indicated seat after hanging up her own coat and hat.

“This meeting of the Bob-Whites of the Glen is now called to order,” Jim declared. Trixie, next to him, tapped the table with a small gavel.

All seven Bob-Whites were gathered around the table in the main room of the clubhouse. In one corner, the oil burner donated by Mr. Lynch took the chill from the space, making cheerful popping and cracking noises as its components heated up.

“We’ve heard a motion to hold the Bob-White Christmas party on Saturday, December 26,” announced Trixie, with an emphatic shake of her sandy curls. “All in favor?” A chorus of Ayes gave her the answer.

“Now, what day to we want to make our nursing home visit?” she asked next.

Diana Lynch spoke up. “Unless we want to do it the weekend before Christmas, I’d like to suggest Tuesday, December 22. I won’t be available on Christmas Eve, and if we wait until after Christmas, it’s going to feel like an acclimatization… acclamation… I mean, a let-down.” No one laughed, although Diana’s face reddened. She still tended to mix up words.

“Any other business?” Jim asked, taking the gavel from his co-president. As everyone shook their heads to indicate the negative, he rapped the gavel on the table. “This meeting is adjourned. Time for snacks!”

Mart and Honey filled bowls with popcorn and snack mix they’d carried from home, while Dan passed around small bottles of Coca-Cola and napkins. For several moments silence reigned as the teens fell upon the snacks. Anyone would have thought they had missed lunch.

“Say, Brian,” Jim started after taking a swig of his drink. “I heard from Mark Nelson that you’ve decided to register at Westchester Community College for next year, instead of going away. When did you decide that? And will it make any difference if you are awarded a scholarship?”

“I was going to tell you, Jim.” Brian’s voice was low and serious. “Remember I talked about sitting down with Moms and Dad and discussing college expenses. Unless I receive a full ride from Harvard—tuition plus room and board—it will just be a bit out of reach when you consider travel back and forth, books, and fees. And the chances of winning a full ride are pretty slim. The best people in the country—even internationally—are my competition. The longer I thought about it, the more I felt like a year at community college, working and saving money, would put me in a better position. And if I make it into medical school, I’ll have many more years of education to pay for before I’m a practicing physician. It just makes sense.” He pushed a lock of dark hair away from his forehead. “But don’t make any decisions based on what I’m going to do.”

Jim sighed. “I’ve been poring over the college catalogs, trying to find some information on work-study jobs at SUNY Albany or Rochester. My scholarship covers full tuition and has a pretty good book stipend, but it doesn’t fully cover room and board. I don’t meet the financial need requirements for work-study, and apparently all on-campus jobs are dependent on financial need. Since freshmen aren’t allowed to bring a car to campus, I’m not sure how I’m going to make up the extra cost.” He scrubbed at his face with the heel of one hand and frowned.

“What are you talking about, Jim?” Everyone turned to stare at Dan, who had barely spoken until now. He was usually very quiet, so no one thought that was unusual. But his voice held a new note that was … hostile?

Jim stared at him. He felt his ears growing hot, and knew his face must be red. “What do you mean, Dan?”

Dan shook his head and then pushed back his chair. He stood and began pacing the length of the room. “I know you won that scholarship fair and square,” he said. “You deserved it, and I know it’s important to you to earn your own way.” He had reached the far end of the room—not very far—and turned on his heel, striding back in the other direction. “But you’re not in the same situation now, Jim. You have a real home, with parents who love you and who can afford to send you to any college without missing a beat.” He walked back to his chair, which was directly across the table from Jim. “Leave the scholarships and work-study jobs to the people who need them. I’m sure there are people every year who have financial need and miss out on a work-study. Let your parents pay for you, instead of using aid money that another kid really needs.”

Jim pushed himself to his feet, his chair scraping the floor, and stared down at Dan from his greater height. “I’m not freeloading off Dad even if he can afford it.” Jaw clenched, he ground out the words. “I’m not taking anything I didn’t earn.”

Dan threw up his arms. “You could donate your scholarship back, and give another kid a chance, who doesn’t have the resources you do. You could work off-campus or even work for your dad during summers if you want to be self-pay. But I think it’s false pride to refuse your dad’s help and then use resources that could help someone who doesn’t have wealthy parents.”

The three girls hadn’t said anything. Jim noticed Honey’s face reflected shock at the argument, and her eyes were full of tears as she bit down on her knuckles. Diana stared at the paper in front of her, on which she was drawing a design of intricate snowflakes. But now Trixie jumped up and stood at Jim’s side.

“You can’t mean that, Dan! It sounds like you think Jim’s cheating by not letting the Wheelers pay his way through college, when it’s just that he wants to be independent.” Her hands fisted, she glared at the dark-haired boy who had come to Sleepyside himself as an orphan.

“Dan has a point, Trix.” Mart now rose in support of his best friend, Dan. “Even Brian wasn’t able to apply for work-study jobs at his colleges of choice—Dad makes too much money for him to qualify for any grants, either. He may get some academic scholarship awards, but his course load is going to be so heavy that Dad and Moms felt like he shouldn’t even try to work the first semester. There are plenty of deserving, smart kids who can’t pay the full cost, but also don’t meet criteria for financial aid.”

“What are you saying, Mart?” Trixie wore a puzzled frown and Jim felt confused himself.

“I’m just saying, there are options for Jim if he wants to completely pay his own way. He could attend community college and live at home for a year or two. He could work, like Dan said, for Wheeler Enterprises during the summers and probably line up an off-campus job once he needs to go away. In fact, he could commute back and forth to the City and continue to live at home the entire time he’s an undergrad.”

“Guys!” Brian spoke up. “This is something Jim and his parents need to work out. I’m going to do what’s best for me and for my family. If I can make it into medical school, I’ll be in school for a long time, and Mart, you and Trix will be right behind me. Jim shouldn’t base his decision on what I’m doing.”

Mart sat down again, a little subdued.

Dan’s face still wore a stormy expression, but he faced Jim squarely. “Brian’s right,” he said. “And don’t think I’m talking about myself when I mention kids who need help. Between my dad’s Army benefits and Social Security, and my job here, I’m going to be fine. I’ll go to community college to save money, but if I need to commute or move away for school at some point, I’ll have the money in the bank. Uncle Bill and Mr. M will both help me, and I’ll take their help, because I know I’ll pay it back in some way in the future.” He walked over to the neat row of coat hooks Jim had installed the previous year. “Now, if you guys will excuse me, I need to patrol the last section of the preserve before it gets completely dark.” He waved and went out the door, letting a rush of chilled air inside.

“I need to go, too,” Brian said. “Even though it’s the weekend, I’ve got finals coming up, and need to spend a little time studying tonight. Mart? Trix? What are your plans?” He went to the oil burner and turned it off, double-checking himself afterward.

“I’m going to walk up to the Manor House with the girls, and then I guess I’ll be on home.” Mart grabbed his and Diana’s coats from their hooks and held hers as she shrugged into it. Jim did the same for his and Trixie’s coats.

“I forgot to tell you, Brian!” Trixie exclaimed as soon as she had her coat on. “Moms said I could spend the night with Honey—in fact, we’re making it a sleepover with Di, too.”

“Trixie, did you bring your overnight bag?” Diana’s eyebrows lifted as she showed her own overnight bag.

“No, darn it! I guess I’ll have to run home, after all.” Trixie’s face scrunched in annoyance. “I knew I forgot something!”

“Don’t be silly,” Honey said with a shake of her silky light brown hair. “You know perfectly well that you have several sets of pajamas and a toothbrush at my house already. There’s not one thing you need that isn’t already there, or that Miss Trask doesn’t have in the guest closet.”

“All right, then, I’m out of here.” Brian pulled a warm knitted cap over his dark hair and gave a general wave and smile to the remaining Bob-Whites as he also left the clubhouse.

“I guess that’s everything.” Jim turned down the wicks in the two kerosene lamps that had given a cozy glow to the space, and instantly it felt chilly and dark. He shepherded the three girls out ahead of him and locked the door as he went out. It was nearly dark, he noticed. Time was flying by, and that included the time he needed to decide what to do about college. The guys had given him some food for thought.

Saturday, December 5

The antique grandfather clock in the Manor House foyer was striking six o’clock as Jim stood in front of the mirror in his ensuite bathroom, forehead furrowed in concentration as he retied his necktie for the third time. His parents had asked him and Honey to make an appearance at the Wheeler Enterprises executive holiday party, and as this was a business event, the two teens were expected to dress more formally than usual. As he slipped the wide end of the tie through the knot and pulled it to what he hoped was the correct tightness, something twisted and the knot went crooked.

“Jiminy crickets!” he exclaimed in frustration. The mild expletive had been the strongest language he’d ever heard from Win Frayne, and since joining the Wheeler family, he’d vowed never to use the favorite curse words of his stepfather. He undid the tie and glared into the mirror for a moment, before hearing a light knock on his bedroom door.

”Jim!” It was his sister. “Are you ready?”

His brow cleared. Honey was actually quite skilled at tying a Windsor knot, and had tried to teach him, although not very successfully.

“Come on in, I’m just trying to get this blasted Windsor knot tied,” he said, stepping out of the bathroom. Honey walked toward him, slim and graceful in a dark green dress, very simple and straight-cut, with long sleeves. A long gold chain was her only jewelry besides the antique watch she wore on special occasions. Sheer hose and green suede shoes that matched her dress made her look like a stranger, much older and more sophisticated. Was she even wearing makeup?

“Let me see that,” she said, taking the tie from him. She grinned, and suddenly seemed just like her everyday, younger-sister self. Jim thought he should stoop down, but she shook her head. “Just stand up,” she said.

In a moment she had tamed the recalcitrant tie and Jim looked his most debonair in a charcoal suit and white shirt with silver cufflinks. He took the tie clip that had belonged to his birth father and secured the tie to his shirt.

“Are we ready now?” Honey asked.

“I think we are,” he answered with a grin that was only a little nervous. They headed for the stairs and tried to descend with as much dignity as possible. This was to be their first appearance at a Wheeler business function.

“Maybe we can wait in the den until the guests start to arrive,” Jim suggested. “But first, let’s find Mother and Dad and ask if we can help with anything.”

Honey nodded. “Good idea.”

The kitchen, dining room, formal living room and ballroom at the Manor House were a quietly buzzing hive of activity as the catering crew put the final touches on the serving stations and prepared trays of canapés. Celia directed the other Manor House indoor staff with placement of the best linen tablecloths on the fully extended dining table that seated twenty people. Miss Trask appeared with a rolling cart, stacked with Mrs. Wheeler’s holiday china, ready for setting the table.

In the ballroom, a dozen small tables were carefully placed around the room, leaving a dance floor in the center. A four-piece band provided the only real noise as they tuned their instruments and warmed up with a short jam session.

Mrs. Wheeler, regal in a column dress of deep burgundy, set off by a double strand of pearls at her throat and pearl earrings encircled by tiny diamonds, inspected each table in the ballroom and straightened a few of the elegant Christmas-themed mini-centerpieces.

She straightened up as her children’s shadows fell across the room from the door.

“Jim, Honey, both of you look wonderful! I’m so glad you can be here with us tonight, but remember, you don’t have to stay for the whole party—I’m afraid it would be very boring for you.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Honey spoke first, her eyes glowing from the compliment. “But can we do anything to help now, before people start arriving?”

“I don’t think so, darling. Your dad is outside right now, conferring with Tom and Regan about the parking, but the drive has been plowed and salted, and the parking area has been cleared and marked off with lanterns.”

“I’ll just go out and see if I can help with any of that,” Jim offered.

“I really think everything is ready to go,” his mother demurred. “Once everyone has arrived and you’ve met people, you may change and get something to eat from the kitchen. Then if you want to watch television in the den or even go to your rooms, that will be fine.”

“If you say so…” Jim said. “But I feel so useless, not doing anything.”

“Jim dear, this is just a business function, we’ve been doing it for years and everything truly runs like a well-oiled machine. It’s actually been really nice putting the party on here, instead of at the City apartment as we did last year. The staff and catering company have done a wonderful job, but you children only need to smile and greet people.”

The clock chimed once for the half-hour, and Jim was surprised to hear it. He checked his watch to make sure so much time had already passed. Despite what his mother had said, he decided to go out and touch base with his dad while Honey tried to help her mother check over the ballroom.

Just as he touched the door handle, it swung open from the outside and he stepped back quickly to keep from getting beaned. Matthew Wheeler, face ruddy from the cold, strode into the foyer from the veranda, rubbing his hands together.

“Whew!” He shook his head. “At least it’s supposed to stay dry and clear tonight,” he said. He wore an overcoat as well as a suit similar to Jim’s, his maroon Harvard Business School tie contrasting with his immaculate white shirt. As Jim recognized the Harvard shield, he remembered again the argument in the clubhouse yesterday. He hoped he wouldn’t have to discuss college plans with his dad tonight.

“You look sharp, son.” Matthew clapped him on the back. “Thanks for agreeing to help us with the meet and greet part of this. Our first guests should be arriving any minute.” He opened the door again, allowing a small gust of cold air inside. “In fact, I see some headlights on the drive now, coming around the curve. Better get out of this overcoat.” Suiting his action to the words, he shrugged out of the coat and carried it to the closet near the powder room tucked under the staircase.

A few minutes later, Matthew was ready at the front door to greet his first guest. Jim, standing behind him, saw that it was Dick Whitney, one of his dad’s oldest friends, who was also on the Board of Directors for the Wheeler organization. He stepped forward to greet Mr. Whitney and take his coat and hat.

“Good to see you again, Jim.” The older man reached out to shake hands with Jim after greeting his host. “We’re certainly having some weather today, aren’t we?” the older man asked with a deep chuckle. He removed his fedora and his bald head shone under the foyer’s chandelier. “Glad it seems no more snow is expected before tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes, I hope it does hold off,” Jim agreed. “Let me take your coat, sir. Mother’s in the ballroom and we have plenty of hors d’oeuvres.” He took the overcoat and fedora and headed for the ballroom, which contained its own cloakroom and an additional powder room.

“Or the bartender can fix you a whiskey and soda,” Matthew added.

“Now that sounds good.” Again Mr. Whitney chuckled. “Your men directing the parking said my driver could get something to eat and drink, too.”

“Right, we’ve made arrangements for any drivers to have refreshments and watch some television in the garage. Tom will show him around and get him situated.”

Jim was a little staggered at the amount of preparation as well as the amount of food and comfort measures that had gone into this party. His parents had hosted parties at the Manor House before, but the annual executive party was the most elaborate one he’d known. In the garage, the cars had been evacuated for the evening and a cleaning service had scoured the floor. Several comfortable sofas, rented for the occasion, sat in strategic positions around a large console color television, also rented for the occasion. A long table was spread with food and drink for at least a dozen people. The heated garage also boasted facilities for bio-breaks. Jim knew a few of the guests might drive themselves, but many either lived a plane flight away or in the City, where even the wealthiest were more likely to use a car service than to keep a vehicle of their own. Before coming to live with the Wheelers, he’d never once thought about providing facilities for the guests’ staff. Yes, the rich were different. Every time he thought he was getting used to that fact, he learned something new.

Mr. Whitney followed him as he made his way to the ballroom. “Jim, I understand you’re a senior now. What kind of college plans do you have—following in your dad’s footsteps?”

Jim didn’t reply for a moment. What could he say? “I’m considering a few different schools, to tell you the truth. I’ve not made up my mind just yet.”

“All well and good; you should take your time. But think about the connections you’ll have through Harvard, no matter what you decide to do later on. As a legacy, you should have no trouble being accepted.” Mr. Whitney caught sight of Madeleine Wheeler and Honey, standing close together in the ballroom. “Maddie! Honey, my dear.” He bowed and lifted Mrs. Wheeler’s hand to within an inch of his lips, but didn’t actually kiss it. “I was just asking young Jim about his college plans. He says he hasn’t decided yet where he’ll go.”

Jim ducked into the cloakroom, not wanting to get involved in this discussion, but he could hear his mother’s low, modulated voice as she gave a musical laugh and said simply, “Jim has plenty of choices to make, but Matthew and I want him to take his time. I hope he’ll choose a school that really suits him. Now, come with me and give your order to our bartender.”

When Jim emerged from the cloakroom, he saw that more guests had arrived. By this time, one of the catering crew had taken over the cloakroom duties, and Jim stood with his dad, greeting the guests as they entered.

By seven, it seemed all of the expected guests had arrived. Honey found him getting a Coke at the bar for Mr. Rainsford.

“Mother says we can go now, unless you really want to stay,” she said.

“Great news!” Jim felt relief wash over him. Parties were not his “bag” as popular slang would say. “Unless you want to stay?”

“No, I’m ready to change into something comfortable and get some food,” she said. “Then maybe we can watchWhite Christmas—it’s the Christmas special movie tonight —and snack on some of Cook’s special cheese ball and her fruitcake cookies.”

“I don’t know if that particular combination sounds very appetizing!” Jim scrunched up his forehead. But maybe if we cleanse our palates in between!” Both of them headed upstairs to change.

Jim enjoyed watching the movie with his sister—more than he’d expected to—but throughout the movie he couldn’t stop thinking about the comments from Dick Whitney and several of the other guests who queried him about his college plans. He’d tried to give brief answers and simply indicate he was still weighing options. But a couple of the men had tried to urge him toward Harvard. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was drawn to the illustrious and historic university from which both of his fathers had graduated. Still, he was determined not to ask the Wheelers to pay his way. Somehow that would feel like giving in and admitting he couldn’t make it on his own.

By the time he and Honey went back upstairs to bed, his mind was whirling with conflicting thoughts.