You'll Start Happening Too

And when things start to happen,
Don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along
You'll start happening too.

 

Trixie thumped her pencil repeatedly on the legal pad in front of her. She frowned as the sound of Jim’s humming penetrated her thoughts. What is that song? She frowned and looked up.

“What are you humming?” she demanded.

“Was I humming?” He replied mildly. “I wasn’t sure. It’s hard to hear over the sound of your pencil.”

Trixie looked down at the table where her pencil continued to thump rhythmically on the legal pad. She shot a guilty look at Jim. “I was a million miles away.”

He grinned as he took a sip of the hot coffee she had brought him earlier. He was going to hate it when she started going into the office every day. His afternoon’s at the school had been interesting.

“Is something bothering you?” he asked, wondering if she would hear him.

“Yeah,” she stopped the repetitive drumming as she blinked and looked at him. “What’s that song you were humming?”

“Our two week anniversary and you’ve already wounded me,” Jim teased, taking another sip of coffee. “Have you already forgotten our first dance as husband and wife?”

Trixie flushed. Of course! Elvis. She cast a furtive look his way wondering if it meant anything, him humming their song. “I haven’t forgotten,” she murmured. She paused to see if he would say anything else. After several moments of silence, she sighed and picked up the pencil again. Weighing her words carefully, she put voice to her thoughts.

“Jim, your parents’ apartment in the city, it’s close to the campus, right?”

“Yes, close enough I always walked over there,” he admitted.

“Exactly!” She beamed at him, pleased with his answer. “The only people being followed seem to be you and me. If you called Dr. Carlos and asked him to meet us for lunch or dinner at your parents’ apartment, that wouldn’t be much of an inconvenience, would it?”

“Of course not, he’d probably walk over,” Jim admitted. “Why do you want to meet with Dr. Carlos? Brad is back attending classes this term. He won’t be anywhere near the school or the students.”

“Lunch would be better,” Trixie mused, ignoring Jim’s questions. “Especially if we leave the apartment before he does, they’ll follow us and never know he was there.”

“Do you want to clue me in or am I expected to figure out what you’re thinking?” Jim asked.

“Don’t you see, Jim? There really is a Brad Thomas. Brad the student that Dr. Carlos knows and recommended. But that isn’t the same Brad Thomas you hired.”

“I’m not sure that I’m following you.”

Trixie pushed a hand through her curls. “When I took my car to White Plains Automotive, I used the name Teresa Johnson. But there really is a Teresa Johnson. She works for the FBI in Chicago. That’s what the Brad Thomas who showed up at Frayler did. He knew just enough about Dr. Carlos’s Brad to get the job and pass a background check.”

“Are you sure?” Jim asked. “I mean, didn’t you and Honey run a deeper background check on everyone involved in this mess?”

“Sure we did, but we were checking the real Brad’s background. When Molinson followed Brad he didn’t find anything, because Brad didn’t go anywhere but to the school campus to hang out, just like the real Brad might have done. But my theory is there are two guys named Brad Thomas. The student Dr. Carlos recommended and then another who found the perfect background to get into your school.” Trixie stopped and frowned. “I suspect someone higher up in all this found the real student, stole his identify and provided it to your Brad Thomas to use. Your Brad seems like a trainee, if you know what I mean.”

Jim shook his head. “Sounds like too many Brads to me. The one you call my Brad Thomas – that’s the fake Brad Thomas, right?”

Trixie nodded.

“And the real Brad Thomas is a real student of Dr. Carlos attending the university?” Jim quirked an eyebrow at Trixie in question.

She nodded more vigorously.

“And you want to meet with Dr. Carlos to talk to him about the real Brad Johnson or the fake Brad Johnson?” Jim asked as he sat down his mug of coffee.

“Both!”

 

 

Matthew Wheeler pushed a hand through his ruddy hair in frustration. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this angry.

“For the last time, Ms. Morales, you will have my daughter-in-law’s credentials returned to my office, with the name change I provided to your office last week, by five o’clock today. Otherwise, you will not only have a lawsuit on your desk by nine tomorrow morning, you’ll walk in the door to your office there in Albany to a plethora of news cameras. This has gone on long enough!”

“Are you threatening me, Mr. Wheeler?” she replied hotly.

“Absolutely not. Enough is enough. There are no charges being filed in this case. My daughter-in-law voluntarily surrendered her credentials when the initial inquiry was made. In retrospect, that was a mistake. We both know it and the police had no right to make such a request to begin with. If you’re going to accept those illegally obtained credentials as a complaint, then you’re going to lose big time. You need to decide if you want to do the right thing or not. I understand you spoke with Captain Molinson.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t relieve the obligation to conduct an independent investigation.”

“There is no obligation to perform an investigation in the absence of a formal complaint!” Matthew’s voice rose several decibels. “You oversee the professional licensing in this state.”

“For the last time, my department is not responsible for professional discipline issues. If you would just contact the secretary of –“

“For the last time, Ms. Morales.” Matthew interrupted. “Five o’clock today. If those credentials aren’t returned with a letter indicating the matter is closed, then the next phone call I make will be my lawyer. Then I’ll contact the news media and then I’ll give a courtesy call to the Governor. We both know this entire incident is a travesty.”

Matthew Wheeler resisted the urge to slam the phone down and slid it quietly into the desktop unit. He groaned and closed his eyes.

“Do I need to get George on the phone?” Marilyn Parker asked from the doorway.

“No. Just get me the Governor.”

“I thought you were waiting until four,” she asked as she moved forward to pick up the phone.

“No. If I call him now then maybe, just maybe I’ll have it by four and Lavonia Morales will still have her job.”

Marilyn raised an eyebrow but made the connection. A few murmurs and the assurance that the matter was indeed urgent and she handed him the phone. “She’s connecting you to the Governor now.”

Matthew leaned back in his chair and waited only a moment. “Joe? This is Matt. I need your help.”

 

 

”I’m pretty sure someone at the hospital is involved in all this mess going on with Jim and Trixie.”

Honey’s attention was immediately reverted from the cookbook she was studying. “What? Brian, how in the world did you come to that conclusion?”

“I’m not sure.” He pushed a hand through the dark hair. He hated to admit to her that all he had a funny feeling. He was a doctor, or perhaps sometimes a scientist. He didn’t have gut feelings. He formed logical scientific hypothesis or conclusion. He made informed medical diagnosis based on physical symptoms and test results.

He sighed and tried to explain. “This morning at the hospital, I was called in on a consult for a pediatric patient. Dr. Lambert was there as well and he acknowledged my presence as we consulted on the case, but it felt different. He was reserved and distant. There was no idle chitchat. Later, Mike Robertson, the head of the ER started quizzing me about what transpired in the ambulance, with Jonesy.”

“Brian – you’re not a trauma doctor, it could be Mike was just trying to find out what happened.”

“The man was shot three times, Honey! It’s pretty obvious what happened. I spoke to Kaye after the autopsy and she confirmed nothing would have saved Jonesy. Mike wanted to know if Jonesy ever said anything in the ambulance.” He shook his head, knowing that Honey would believe him, but still having a hard time connecting the two events. “This sounds crazy, but I think Dr. Lambert put him up to asking me about Jonesy.”

Honey’s jaw dropped. m thinking they believe I should have treated him first, and left Jim and Trixie for the paramedics.”

“Brian, no one can expect you to handle it that way. Mr. Maypenny thought for sure Jonesy was dead. It wasn’t until Dan checked and realized he was alive, you did something, you tried to help him.”

“Honey, in my honest medical opinion, if Trixie hadn’t been sent in the first ambulance I don’t think she would have made it. I don’t think it made one bit of difference for Jonesy. He was dead when the third bullet hit him, no matter what.”

“Then your conscience should be clear. Oh, Brian! Why haven’t you told me any of this?”

“Because it was all I could do to keep you from worrying about the things you were already worried about. Do you realize you’ve put in as many hours since Thanksgiving as I have? Trying to cover everything at the office, hiring Jack, getting Liz on board, making sure your brother and my sister worked things through.”

“Brian, we’re together, for better or worse. Right now, we’re just having some of the worse. It’ll get better. Just don’t shut me out of things. I tell you everything, and maybe I shouldn’t, but when I tell you it seems like now we’re sharing the load and I can deal with everything.”

“I know what you mean!” Brian finally put his arms around her.

 

 

He knew the instant he opened his eyes that something was wrong. A week was a mere seven days, but before the end of the second day he had been in such symphony with her, he knew she wasn’t in bed with him. He sat up and added another three seconds to the 604,800 seconds they had been married before he realized where she was.

“I had a feeling you’d be here,” he whispered as he dropped her thick terry cloth robe around her bare shoulders. She was huddled in the love seat in his office, sobbing softly.

“I shut the door, I didn’t want to wake you up,” she sniffed.

Jim noticed the red-rimmed eyes and slipped next to her, easily shifting her so she sat across his lap. He felt the tremor move through her as he settled her comfortably with the robe providing warmth his arms and body couldn’t.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” he said after a few moments.

She shrugged. It was the first nightmare since their wedding and she had foolishly hoped that being married to Jim would make the nightmares stop.

“Yes and no,” she answered leaning her head on his shoulder.

Jim was quiet as he softly stroked his hand up and down her back. The gentle repetitive movement, finally worked its magic and he felt the tension leave her back.

A few minutes later and she choked back another sob and started talking.

“It’s always the same. Jonesy kills you while I watch. No matter what I do or how I try and stop him, it’s always the same. I’m too late to save you.”

Jim nodded. It wasn’t altogether unlike the nightmares that plagued him from time to time. “I’m surprised you managed to slip out of bed without waking me up,” he said. “I usually wake up screaming from my nightmares.”

“Sometimes I do,” she admitted. “But these are almost worse. I wake up and my heart is beating so hard and fast that I feel like I’m going to be sick so I head straight for the bathroom. Sometimes…. ” she paused and composed herself before continuing, “sometimes I do get sick and other times, I can’t stop crying.” She was quiet for a moment and Jim said nothing, continuing to rub her back in the same gentle repetitive motion. Jim’s silence seemed to provide the reassurance she needed. “I didn’t want to wake you up, so I came in here.”

“Have you been here very long?” Jim wondered.

“No,” she admitted. “Not long at all.”

“Will you do me a favor next time?” he asked. Without waiting for her answer he continued. “Next time, please wake me up. It’s too scary waking up and realizing you’re not there where you’re supposed to be.”

Trixie nodded, still sniffling as she tried to stop crying.

“I love you, Jim,” she managed. “The scariest thing in the world is imagining my life without you in it.”

“Me too. Just remember, together we can cope with anything, even nightmares.”

Trixie sniffed. “Anything? Even your parents being millionaires?”

“Anything!” he vowed holding her tighter to him. “Remember your book?”

“This book?” she asked.

“Yeah, that one. We gave it to you because of the line about getting mixed up with strange birds as you go, that was supposed to be the Bob-Whites, the strange birds.”

“I remember.”

“Well then remember this … Out there things can happen and frequently do, yo people as brainy and footsy as you.”

Jim quoted from the book verbatim. “I’ll be here when those things start to happen.”

Trixie nodded. She knew most of the words to her book by heart, but she was surprised that Jim knew portions of it as well. “You must have forgotten the next part,” she murmured into this chest.

“Oh? Really? What’s the next part?”

Taking a deep breath, she quoted the next couplet back at him.

“And when things start to happen, don’t worry. Don't stew. Just go right along. You'll start happening too.”

Jim laughed and gave her a reassuring hug. Using the muscles in his leg, he somehow managed to stand up from the love seat, holding her in his arms. “Let’s go to bed, Trixie. I’ll show you what’s going to start happening.”