Un Regalo Sin Precio/A Priceless Gift (Trixie)

The winter sunshine filtered through the cracks of the ancient balcony door. Trixie threw her arm over her face and tried to ignore the fact that it was already morning. She groaned in remembrance of the noise and excitement of the night before. The experience had caused flashbacks to her first visit to Spain several years before. Last night’s "celebration" had rivaled that of the fallas of Valencia.

But it wasn’t mid-March, it was early January; and it wasn’t Valencia, it was Cartagena – several hundred kilometers to the south; and it wasn’t fallas; it was the fiesta de los Reyes Magos. And she wasn’t there on vacation with her brothers and friends, she was alone.

Shaking her head roughly to rid herself of memories, Trixie sat up. With a resigned sigh, she swung her feet over the side of the bed, wincing as her left foot missed its slipper and made contact with the icy tile. ‘I could make my fortune by introducing wall-to-wall carpeting to the Spaniards,’ she thought as she fished around under the edge of the bed to encounter the errant slipper.

After her morning bathroom ritual, she shuffled down the hallway to the kitchen. Eyes still heavy with sleep, she lit the flame on the one working burner of her stove. In a few automatic motions she had a saucepan placed on the burner and milk poured from a new box, just enough to fill a Nocilla glass, was heating. A jar of mermelada de fresa, a packet of Marias integrales, and a container of pineapple yogurt were placed on the table to finish off the meal.

As she waited for her milk to heat, Trixie turned on the radio. Good, it was an old Amistades Peligrosas song. If she heard Peces en el río or Campanas de Belén one more time, she’d throw the silly box out the window. Her joy was short-lived however as Me quedaré solo fade out into Peces en el río. "La Virgen se está peinando, entre cortina y cortina…" A month ago she’d been intrigued by the song. Now she didn’t see how fish swimming in a river and Mary combing her hair had much to do with Christmas.

Out loud, she muttered, "I don’t care if today is the ‘Twelfth Day of Christmas’. It’s January and the holiday is over!" The feelings of aloneness and sadness that had been haunting her for the last month quickly swept over her again. She hadn’t thought that it would be so difficult to be away from her family for the holidays – she’d been away from home for Christmas before. In times past, however, she’d always had her older brothers around along with the rest of the Bob-Whites. This was the first time that she had been totally alone.

Carefully she spooned Cola Cao into her glass and added a small amount of milk.  The chocolate powder and warm milk combined into a thick mixture and she quickly added the rest of the milk, stirring rapidly. Her thoughts continued to focus on being alone and how much harder it was than she had originally thought that it would be. Sitting down heavily at the rickety table, she began to talk to herself, a habit that had become a lifeline lately.

"It’s not like Christmas in Spain is much like those at home," she mused. "There’s no snow, no firs trees, not even any rain. On Christmas I wore a T-shirt and walked under palm trees!" The twenty-fifth of December had been a beautifully clear day. The weather had turned cooler in the past week and a half, but it was still incomparable to New York State winter weather. The palm trees weren’t much like a nice evergreen covered in lights. That was something else that Trixie missed – the decorations she had grown up with. Everywhere she went she saw a Belén, a nativity scene, instead of the familiar sights of decorated Christmas trees, Santas and reindeer. Some were quite simple and plain and others, like what filled the plaza, were so intricate that they included dishes and food on all the tables in all the homes in all of Bethlehem. These were the families’ main focus. Santa Claus, or Papa Noel, as he was called, was an afterthought. The actual Christmas day was really just a day when everyone went to Mass and then had a big family dinner. Very few gifts were exchanged. The kids all waited anxiously for the Reyes Magos, the Three Kings, to arrive on January sixth and bring them gifts. That was today. And that’s what Tony wanted her to do with him today – to go take gifts to some house somewhere. He had caught her in a weak moment the night before at the parade and she had volunteered to help him and some of his friends with delivering gifts.

Wearily Trixie looked at her glass and realized that throughout her whole reverie she had continued to stir her hot chocolate after every drink and was now stirring an empty glass. With another deep sigh, she shoved her breakfast things to the center of the table and rested he head on the cool Formica surface. She was so tired! Why had she agreed to go with Tony today? Last night when he’d dragged her to la cabalgata and explained Reyes to her, he had convinced her to help him. Caught up in the excitement of Melchor, Gaspar, and Baltasar and their arrival by boat to the Port of Cartagena and the succeeding procession up the calle Mayor to the Plaza de España, Trixie had agreed to go with him to some casa and distribute gifts. She had also thought that it might add something extra to the article she was assigned to write recounting an American’s thoughts on Spanish holiday celebrations. However, when she had arrived home last night and emptied the caramelos from her pockets and combed all the confetti from her sandy curls, she regretted her decision. Being with Tony didn’t help her with the decisions she was trying to make about her life.

By the time she had dressed in navy jeans and a cream sweater flecked with navy that her mother had knit and sent her for Christmas, Trixie had made up her mind that she’d tell Tony she was not going to accompany him for the morning.

Seconds later the timbre sounded. As she lifted the receiver, Tony’s deep voice filled with excitement for the day asked, "¿Estás lista, guapa?"

In spite of herself, Trixie smiled. Why he called her guapa, she still couldn’t figure out… but then her boss called her corazón all the time and it didn’t mean anything. Just like ‘love’ in England.

"Casi – um, Tony, I don’t think…"

Tony broke in, sensing Trixie’s change of mind, "Just buzz me up, Trix."

Reluctantly, Trixie pushed the button to open the door four floors below.

As Tony slowly climbed the stairs, his thoughts focused, as they did far too often lately, on the blonde American woman above. Several years before, when he had met Trixie for the first time in Valencia, he’d been drawn to her. He’d admit it now, her sparkling blue eyes and golden curls had been what first caught his eye, but it was her sense of adventure that had hooked him. It was no secret that he loved her. It was obvious to the whole world. He knew that deep down Trixie knew how much she meant to him, but she chose to ignore it. He was patient. That was one thing that he had learned in his years with Interpol – sometimes you just had to wait before you made your big move. He would wait for Trixie as long as it would take.  In the six months that Trixie had been in Spain, he had watched her carefully. He knew what she had left behind, knew what had caused her to leave her family and friends. He’d been waiting for years for her to return to Spain, and to his life, in a more solid form than e-mails and postcards. Living on your own in a foreign country, no matter how much you loved it, was difficult. Attending school in a foreign language was even more of a challenge. And to top it all off – working in such conditions was enough to make anyone stress. Luckily, Trixie had a pretty good handle on Spanish. She wasn’t speaking like a native yet, but that would soon come. That was one less worry for her. She enjoyed her work and classes, which was an even greater benefit.

During the past several weeks – since puente – Tony had watched Trixie become more and more withdrawn. Whether she would willingly admit it to herself or not, she was homesick. Homesickness was always worse during the holidays. Tony had been racking his brains trying to decide what to give her for Reyes for a couple of months. For Christmas, he’d taken her to his parents’ home in Valencia. He’d hoped that dinner in a family setting would cheer her up. Unfortunately, it was the first time he’d been home to see his parents since he’d "abandoned the family" as his mother put it when he changed religions, so it had been a stiff, formal visit, even with Trixie there. He wanted to make Reyes more fun and memorable for Trixie and yet in some way help her. Last night had been the fun part and Trixie had finally allowed herself to enjoy herself. Today was the memorable part and the gift.

The door was open when he reached it. He entered and followed the hall down to Trixie’s room. The balcony doors were open and a crisp breeze blew through the room, ruffling papers and curtains. Trixie was leaning against the balcony wall, looking at the street below. There was a tiny park across the street and she seemed to be watching some kids play an impromptu soccer game.

"Tony, I’m not going."

Sitting down on the edge of her bed he replied, "Yes, you are."

"No, I’m not."

"What, no excuses, no explanations? Just ‘no’?"

Still staring at the street below, Trixie nodded.

"Unfortunately, you don’t have the option of saying no. You’re going whether you want to or not."

Finally, Trixie turned around. Glaring at him she retorted, "No option? I don’t think so. And for your information, I do have an explanation – I need to work on my article."

With an annoying grin, Tony continued, "Not an option. You’re committed to helping us today. I know very well that your article is not due until Saturday – which gives you three days. You already have most of it completed. Also, you have to come with me because your gift is at the casa de la cuna."

Suddenly Trixie didn’t feel like arguing anymore. This was probably the fastest battle Tony had ever won with her. She just didn’t have the energy to go on. "Fine. I'll go. I suppose if I don’t go you’ll arrest me and bring me anyway."

Trying not to appear too surprised at her easy surrender or gloat too openly at winning, Tony just stood up and said, "You’re right and I don’t want to scare the kids by bringing in someone in handcuffs."

On the short drive through town, Tony explained to Trixie that they were going to an orphanage, one that specialized in infants and toddlers, hence the name casa de la cuna, or cradle house. Some of the kids were there temporarily, some were awaiting adoption papers to become complete and some were handicapped and may never be placed with a family. The casa, as was the case with most other orphanages and rest homes and such places in the country, were sponsored by the Catholic Church and run by nuns. However for the last several years, they had permitted a group of local Latter-day Saints to gather and bring in gifts for Reyes. This was how Tony was involved – through his membership in the Mormon Church.

"Here we are," he said at last as they pulled in front of a low building with a small garden and playground in front, "It looks like everyone else is here. We’ll just unload the gifts from the back of my car and then follow everyone else inside." He turned to look at Trixie. He hoped this worked. "You should find your gift inside."

With a half smile, she replied, "Should? Is Gaspar going to hand it to me?"

"Not exactly. I think you’ll know when you find it."

Half an hour later, Tony watched Trixie from across the large playroom. He hoped this worked. As he had tried to think of a gift for Trixie that would help her not be homesick, he had remembered something that one of the missionaries had told him. She had told Tony that what got her through times of homesickness was getting out and helping others, especially those who had less than she did. She would usually get so caught up in helping others that pretty soon she would forget her own feelings and once again enjoy life. Keeping his eyes on Trixie’s face, Tony was pretty sure that he had been successful. She was stretched out full length on the floor with a little boy that had no legs. Together they were watching a little train set zoom around on plastic tracks. As it went by them, a bell would ring. Every time the bell rang, the delighted laughter of the small boy would bubble over. Eventually, Tony heard Trixie’s laughter join in. The sadness had left her eyes and her natural smile was back.

Feeling like someone was watching her; Trixie looked up from the train and little Salvador. Tony was staring at her. Trixie suddenly understood what he had given her. He had given her a way out of her gloom and homesickness. How could she have forgotten what a priceless gift it was to help others. Wasn’t that what the Bob-Whites’ purpose had been - to help those less fortunate?

Salvador’s laughter burst forth once more as the little train rang its bell. Trixie grinned happily at Tony, and mouthed, "Gracias, muchas gracias."

Tony smiled back. She’d found her gift.

El fin

**Written for my first Holiday GWP at Zap's - I wrote on it submitted 1-1-00. I was a little late for Christmas since I got married 12/18/99. But the story was an after Christmas story anyway.  Takes place about 6 years after my epic Spanish Mystery story. I used some of my memories (that I've forgotten and this refreshed my memory reading it again) from the Reyes I spent in Cartagena in January 1996 shortly before I came home from my mission.

*Latter-day Saints refer to members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints –more commonly known as the Mormon Church

*Salvador means Savior

O Christmas Tree (Jim)

"Are you ready to go get our tree, Son?" Win Frayne smiled down at his 8 year old boy.
With a matching grin, Jim agreed, "You bet, Dad. Do I get to help cut it down this year?"
Before his Dad could answer, Jim’s mom called in from the kitchen, "You men had better get going before the snow gets any heavier. I’ll have hot chocolate and poffertjes waiting for you when you get back."
Jim struggled into his boots and heavy winter coat as fast as he could. Every year for as long as he could remember, he and his dad had gone out and cut their Christmas tree. Some years were sunny with little or no snow on the ground and others were like this year, snowy and cold. And always, his mom was waiting with hot chocolate and the powdered sugar covered pancakes that she called poffertjes. Jim was glad that they didn’t have too far to go in the snow. On the other side of the barn and stable, past the pasture, were several wooded acres that they owned. During the past month or two, whenever he had free time from homework and chores, he’d been looking back there for the perfect tree. Two weeks ago he’d found it. It was the perfect size for their family room. He just hoped that this big snowstorm hadn’t caused it any damage.
"Jimmy, come on!" Win called from the back porch.
Pulling his gloves on as he hurried down the hall he called back, "I’m coming, Dad!" Reaching the porch and closing the back door behind him, he continued, "Dad, please, not Jimmy! That’s a little boy name. I’m not a little boy anymore."
Win looked down at the serious expression on his son’s face, "You’re right, Jim, you’re not a little boy anymore. That’ll be my New Year’s resolution – to stop calling you Jimmy."
Grinning, Jim raced awkwardly across the snow covered yard to the stable and barn. The ax and hand saw that were their tree cutting tools were inside. 
Win waited patiently for Jim to return. He knew that as excited as his boy was, he’d be several minutes as he’d stop to say good-morning to their three horses before he went into the connected barn to collect their tools.

"Jim, did you get lost?" Win hollered almost ten minutes later.
"Sorry, Dad," Jim answered, emerging from the barn, "I was just checking on Mom’s Christmas present."
"Oh, how’s it coming?"
"It looks good. The bud is huge. It should just be opening on Christmas Eve." Jim was excited to give his mom her Christmas present. He’d done extra chores to earn enough money to buy an amaryllis bulb, which he’d carefully planted and cared for. His mother loved flowers and had lots of plants both inside and outside of their home. Last Christmas he’d overheard his mom telling a friend how she’d love to have an amaryllis at Christmastime, just like her mother had always had. He’d decided then that her Christmas present for the next year would be that special flower.
"You know, son," Win said as they trudged through the foot and a half of snow in the pasture, "I look forward to this every year."
"What, Dad? Getting the tree?"
"Yes. This is the ninth time that we’ve done this."
"Ninth? But I’m only 8!" Jim was slightly confused.
"True, but the first time you helped you were only five months old. Your Grandpa Frayne carried you out here all bundled up and we picked out the tree and I cut it down. The next year, Uncle James and Aunt Nell came up for the holidays and he went with us to find the tree. The next year and the years following it’s just been us."
Jim thought about it for a moment and asked, "So, it’s a tradition? We talked about those at school. I didn’t think we had any."
Win’s booming laughter echoed among the trees. "Oh, Son, we’ve got so many traditions! This is just one."
"How come Mom doesn’t come with us?"
"Well, that’s part of the tradition. The men of the family go and get the tree while the women get the decorations ready and, of course, get the hot chocolate and cookies – or thanks to a tradition of your mom’s family – the poffertjes."
"And then Mom takes a picture."
"Yep, that’s how it works. That’s how it was when I was your age, too."
"Then that’s how it will be with my family," Jim stated firmly.
Suppressing a grin, Win asked, "So, Son, which tree is it this year?" I’m sure you’ve been out here looking for the best one."
"It’s this way," and Jim led his father directly to the "perfect" tree. The snow had caused a few branches to break, but for the most part it still looked beautiful.
"Good choice, Son, let’s take ‘er home!"
Half an hour later they stood outside the back door and sang O Christmas Tree as loudly as they could. That was the cue for Mom to come out and take a picture.
Katje hurried to the door and looked out, "Boys, it’s beautiful!" Then, forgetting her coat in her excitement, she came out with the camera.
"One, two, three, smile!" she cried and snapped the picture. Grabbing it from the front of the camera, she called, "It’ll be ready to look at as soon as you two get out of your wet clothes and come have some hot chocolate."

Later that evening, stretched out in front of the tree, Jim turned the pages of a worn photo album. The twinkling lights of the tree played over his freckled face and those in the faded pictures. He saw his dad as a boy, even younger than himself holding up the tree with the grandfather he knew only through pictures. The color pictures began with the first year that he went with his dad to get the tree – clearly showing not only the facial features that had been passed down from father to son to grandson, but also the vibrant red hair. ‘Yep,’ Jim decided, ‘I’ll take my son to get the tree every year, too, just like we did today.’

*  *  *

"Are you sure he’s bundled up enough," Trixie fretted, fussing over her small son in his father’s arms.
"He’s fine, dear," Helen Belden said with a knowing smile as she handed her husband his warm gloves, "and they’re not going to be gone for very long."
"Don’t worry, Trix, he’s fine," Jim kissed his wife’s frowning lips. "It’s a nice day, not even snowing." A sad smile crossed his face as Jim remembered the last time he’d gone with his own father to get the Christmas tree - it had been snowing pretty hard that day. He’d been eight and that had been when he decided that he’d carry on this family tradition with his own son some day, not realizing the many challenges and changes that would come to his own life before that time came.
"Ready to go, Son," Matt Wheeler asked, clapping his adopted son on the shoulder.
"You bet, Dad," Jim replied, handing him the small bundle he’d been holding. "Could you carry Win, please?"
Slight hesitation appeared in Matt’s eyes as he held his grandson. Only Madeleine knew that Win was the first baby he’d ever held. The baby was now four months old and he was still a little afraid to hold him.
"No problem, Son," Matt said as Win opened his eyes and smiled at his grandfather. There was no doubt this boy was a Frayne - the green eyes and red hair assured that. Thinking of the boy’s real grandfather and his old school friend, Matt sent a thought heavenward,’Win, I’m doing my best to do what you would’ve done. We’ve got a great man and the beginning of another one now.’
"Come on, Grandpa, let’s go find the perfect tree," Peter Belden said, caressing his grandson’s cheek with one finger as he patted his friend on the shoulder with his other hand.
As the men left the kitchen, Maddie called, "We’ll have hot chocolate and cookies waiting when you get back." She turned back to her daughter-in-law and Helen who were seated with her at the kitchen table, "Let’s look at that album some more, Trixie. What a treasure it is."
The three women studied the pictures in the worn and tattered photo album as they awaited the return of the tree hunters.
"This was the last time Jim went with his dad," Trixie said softly, pointing to the Polaroid on the last filled page. "The next year he went alone because his dad was too sick to go." She wiped away a single tear and continued, "He went alone again for a couple more years until his mom remarried."

"O Christmas tree,
O Christmas tree,
How lovely are thy branches"

"That’s my cue," Trixie cried, jumping up. "Darn, I don’t have the cookies out or the chocolate made!"
"Go take the picture, dear, Maddie and I will take care of the rest," Helen said. She hurried to the stove and turned the heat up on the milk as Maddie grabbed a plate from the cupboard and piled on the molasses cookies that Trixie had made earlier.
Trixie grabbed her digital camera from where it sat next to the beautiful amaryllis her mother-in-law had given her.
Forgetting her coat, she hurried out the back door, "Boys, its beautiful!" Looking at four of the men she loved most in the world she sang out, "One, two, three, smile!"

 The End

**Originally posted on zap's trixie page January 2004. 

**I’ve never had poffertjes, but I found them on a Dutch food website and they sounded good and like a special treat that Jim’s mom might have made.
**And yes, it may seem out of character for Madeleine (Maddie) Wheeler to put cookies on a plate or sit in a kitchen, but I see her having mellowed through the years and with Trixie and Jim not have the formal home that she’s accustomed to (i.e. no servants) being used to doing small things like this in the kitchen. And she probably enjoys it!

**when I wrote this I knew how Jim had ended up with that album, but now I can’t remember so I guess I’ll have to figure it out again.