What If…?
What if events didn’t happen the way they did in the books?
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.
What if events didn’t happen the way they did in the books?
“I know you don’t want to leave your friends, Jimmy, but we have an obligation to help my uncle, now that he’s having trouble looking after himself.”
His son scowled. “Don’t call me Jimmy.”
“I’m sorry, Jim.” Win sighed, feeling the weight of the years and a twinge of regret that his little boy was no longer little. “I don’t want to leave, either, but I really need to go and help him, so he can stay in his own home. You wouldn’t want to make an old man live somewhere strange, would you?”
“That’s exactly what you’re making me do,” Jim pointed out, with a high degree of accuracy.
Another sigh wanted to escape Win’s lips, but he trapped it in. “Well, I hope that you’ll like Sleepyside and that you’ll make some new friends there. And it will be good to live out in the country, again, won’t it?”
Grudgingly, the teenager admitted this to be true. “But I’d still rather get our own place back than go somewhere new.”
Win looked down. “That’s not something that’s in my power, I’m afraid.”
This time, it was Jim who sighed. “I know; and I’m sorry that I’m being such a pain, but I was just starting to think things might go my way here. I don’t want to give up on the things I’ve been working toward.”
Win reached over and patted his back. “I know, and I hope that you’ll have good things in Sleepyside; maybe even better things than what you have here.”
“Mr. William Regan?” the woman on the phone asked.
“Speaking.”
“This is Patricia Feldman speaking from the St. Francis Mission. I’m calling about your nephew, Daniel Mangan.”
His mouth dropped open. “My what?”
“You weren’t aware you had a nephew?” Her tone somehow managed to suggest that she’d already been given this information, but hadn’t believed it.
“I haven’t seen or heard from my sister in over fifteen years. I have no idea where she is, or what’s happened in her life in the meantime.”
“I’m afraid that her husband passed away some time ago, and she herself is now really very ill. We’re wondering if you would possibly be in a position to help.”
“With medical costs?” he asked, rubbing a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I guess I could help a little, but I don’t have that much money myself.”
“I meant with the boy,” Ms. Feldman clarified. “Daniel is thirteen years old; not anywhere near old enough to be staying in the apartment by himself while his mother is having treatment, which is fortunately being covered by insurance. We need someone with a stable situation, who can take Daniel while his mother is ill and who can provide a stable environment for him. Could that person possibly be you?”
A hundred objections rose up in his mind: his age of only twenty-two, his new job in Sleepyside, the shadowy past he was still trying to leave behind. “I don’t know if I can do that, but I’m coming to see her; just tell me where she is and I’ll be there.”
What if Jim’s father had been alive when James Frayne senior began to struggle with his health?
What if Regan had found out he had a nephew before his sister died?
“Oh!” Trixie pointed to the crumbling mansion on the opposite hill. “There’s someone there! Do you think it might be old Mr. Frayne’s family?”
“It might be,” Honey agreed. “I wonder if we should tell someone, such as, for example, your parents, so they can go and introduce themselves, or something.”
“Let’s go and see them ourselves,” Trixie suggested, instead. “We can ride our bikes over. Come on!”
Honey followed along as Trixie ran to fetch Honey’s bike. Honey doubled her down to Crabapple Farm, where they collected Trixie’s own bicycle. Only a short time later, the pair were cycling up the rutted drive at Ten Acres.
“I hope they haven’t left in the time it’s taken us to get here,” Trixie puffed, as they neared the top of the hill.
“Their car’s still here, at least,” Honey noted, moments later. “What do we do now?
Do we knock on the front door?”
“I’m not sure I trust those steps.” Trixie frowned at them, as she propped her bike against the side of the house. “But I’m not sure what else to do.”
Turning, she almost collided with a red-headed boy just a little older than her and all of a sudden, she had no words.
“Who is that?” Di whispered, as she, Honey and Trixie approached Manor House after school.
They had arranged a weekend sleepover in Honey’s room, to celebrate the beginning of the summer vacation.
“Oh, that’s Regan’s nephew,” Honey explained. “I thought I told you all about him, and the way that Regan just found his family again, for the first time since I’m not sure how long ago and how they’ve decided to come and visit and all get to know each other–”
“Yes, of course you told me all that,” Di interrupted. “What you didn’t tell me was that he’s hot.”
Trixie rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to try to make Mart jealous, I’m not sure why you’d bother.”
Di shook her head. “I’m not trying to do anything. I’m just making an important observation.”
Trixie’s eyes narrowed and she changed the subject slightly. “He doesn’t look much like Regan.
You don’t think that’s suspicious, do you?”
Honey smiled. “No, I don’t, but then, I’ve seen both of his parents and I’ve seen him up close, which you haven’t, yet, though you will very soon, because I’m going to go and introduce you in a minute, just as soon as we’ve dropped all of our belongings in my room.”
Trixie nodded, but still looked suspicious. The other two shared an amused look.
“Maybe Trixie is wanting to make Jim jealous by investigating Dan,” Di suggested.
Trixie just rolled her eyes again.
What if both of Jim’s parents had survived?
What if both of Dan’s parents had survived?
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.