Diana Roberts glanced around the room once more and nodded her head. Everything that needed to be packed here was done and she could move on to the next room. She stepped into her home office and came face to face with her good friend Honey.

“I think this is the last room,” Honey told her. “How long do you think it will take? If we can finish before dinner time…”

“We can leave here and not come back until morning,” Di finished for her. “That sounds great. Let’s try, at least.”

The two set to work on the last-minute packing. Di and Nick were down-sizing to a smaller place in a milder climate and the moving truck was expected in the morning. Overnight, they would stay in Honey and Brian’s guest room, as they had every night of the last week, but first the packing needed to be completed. It had been a wrench to leave the house that had been their home for close to thirty-five years, but they had in the end agreed that it was time.

“I’m going to miss having you nearby,” Honey admitted, as she sealed up one of the boxes. “I almost considered asking you not to go.”

“Shh!” Di cautioned. “Don’t say things like that where Nick might hear them or he might decide to stay. Sometimes I think he loves his studio here more than he loves me. He really didn’t want to give it up. He decided that he couldn’t four times, at least!”

“But there’s a studio in the new place,” Honey argued. “I thought it was even better than this one. He gave me a long list of reasons why the new one is superior.”

Di shrugged. “This one is where he created some of his best work. He’s sentimental that way.”

“I’m sure you’ll both love the new place.” Honey smiled and picked up a lacquered box, ready to pack it. “It’ll be so much easier to keep clean, too.”

“Wait! What’s in that? I don’t think I checked it when I was culling things in this room.”

Honey handed over the box and packed some other things instead.

“Oh! Just look at these things! They must be… well, I think they’re mostly from our teens and twenties.” Di pulled out a few items to see what was underneath. As she reached the bottom, her expression altered. “Oh. I didn’t know I still had that.”

“Are you okay?” Honey wondered.

A girlish grin appeared on Di’s face, displacing the frown. “Let me put this in my handbag and we’ll look at it later – and maybe we can call Trixie and let her in on the fun.”

Honey gave her an inquisitive look, but received no further information in reply. With a sigh, she turned back to her task. They finished the room in no time at all and, after a quick tour of the house, decided that the job was done and it was time to eat. They returned to Honey’s place in the hope that the men would have upheld their end of the bargain and supplied dinner. To their gratitude, they had. The four enjoyed a pleasant meal together.

Later, Honey and Di excused themselves to put in that call to Trixie. Honey was still in the dark as to what Di had found and feeling rather curious about the reaction she had seen. She was not to be left in suspense for long.

“You’re looking well, Trixie,” Di complemented. “Have you done something different with your hair?”

Their friend gave her a sceptical look. “No. I’ve done what I always do with it. You’re stalling. What’s up?”

For a moment, Di looked coy. “I found something today while we were packing… and I thought it might be fun to read it together.”

“What is it?” Trixie wondered. “Why do you look so… gleeful?”

“Me?” Di asked, then burst into laughter. “Do you remember the time that we made up a story by drawing bits of paper from boxes? I found the story today and I thought we might look at it again and see how much of it came true.”

Honey laughed. “Almost none, if I remember correctly.”

Trixie looked thoughtful. “I don’t know about that. Read it, Di, and we’ll see.”

Di cleared her throat and began. “Trixie kisses Tad Webster.”

“No!” Trixie yelled. “Never did that, never will.”

“That’s one against,” Honey noted, grabbing a paper and pencil to take a tally. “Next?”

“I kissed Jim.”

“Well, did you?” Trixie asked.

Di shook her head. “No, except on the cheek.”

Honey made a note.

“Trixie kisses Nick Roberts.” Di gave her friend an enquiring gaze. “Well, did you?”

“You know I didn’t,” Trixie answered.

“It’s not going well for your theory that some it really happened, Trixie,” Honey put in. “That’s zero out of three, now.”

“You know, I think I embellished this a lot more the first time I told it,” Di mused. “It seems to have lost something over time.”

“Maybe it’s because almost none of it happened,” Honey suggested. “So, what’s next?”

“Ruthie Kettner kisses Nick Roberts,” Di told them, “which did happen, and Honey kisses Nick Roberts…”

“Which also happened,” Honey admitted. “I did have a little crush on him, way back when. It went absolutely nowhere.”

“Next,” Di added, brightly, “is Honey slapping Nick Roberts.”

“No, I never did that,” Honey answered. “He’s a sweetie. I’d never slap him.”

“And the one that caused the most consternation, if I remember correctly, where Honey has a baby with Dan,” Di continued. “Did that ever eventuate, Honey?”

Honey laughed. “You would have known about it if it had! Of course not!”

“Oh, I’m not sure we want to know the answer to this one.” Di frowned. “Barbara Hubbell seduces Dan.”

“Let’s skip it,” Honey suggested. “Next?”

“Jane Morgan kisses Dan.”

“He wouldn’t!” Trixie sounded certain.

“She would.” Di was every bit as certain.

“True,” Trixie conceded. “So, does anyone know if she did?”

Honey bit her lip. “I did promise not to say, but it’s so long ago, now…”

“She really was a tart.” Di screwed up her nose in disgust. “I wonder if she’s still like that.”

“She’s not,” Trixie told her. “She’s dead. Didn’t you hear?”

“No! When?”

“Oh, years ago.” Trixie glanced up, trying to remember. “I forget exactly what killed her – some mix of prescription drugs and alcohol, I think.”

“But the question is, did she divorce Ned Schulz before she went?” Di asked. “That’s the next entry.”

“No. I’m pretty sure that Ned hasn’t ever married,” Honey answered. “And, to the best of my knowledge, he never met Jane.”

“Hallie slaps Mart is next.”

“True!” Trixie cried. “She did!”

“Before or after this was written?” Di asked.

“After. Definitely after.” Trixie nodded in certainty.

Diana looked to Honey, who nodded her agreement. “On your behalf, Di. It was after your break-up with him and she thought he’d acted badly.”

“He did act badly,” Mart’s sister confirmed. “He deserved to be slapped.”

“I’m glad you think that way.” Di smiled. “The next one is that I slapped Mart, which is also true. The following two are not, however. They were that I seduced Ned Schulz and that I divorced Nick, which I have no intention of ever doing.”

“Is that all of them?” Honey asked.

“There’s one more: that you married Brian.”

“Six true, eight false and one that we don’t want to know,” Honey summarised. “That was better than I thought it would be.”

“Oh! You know what’s not on this list?” Di asked, eyes wide. “We never predicted that Jane Morgan would kiss Nick.”

“And this is significant, how?” Trixie wanted to know.

Honey and Di shared a glance, but it was Honey who explained. “You probably don’t remember, because you didn’t help with the investigation, but there was a time, early in their marriage, when Di and Nick had some problems, courtesy of Jane.”

“And I distinctly remember telling you, Honey, that this was to blame.” Di tapped the sheet of paper she was holding. “And that wasn’t even on here!”

Honey squeezed her arm. “It all worked out in the end. I’m satisfied with the life I actually lived and I like it a lot better than the prediction.”

“Yes, I agree, of course,” Di conceded, “but I could have done without that particular incident.”

Honey smiled and changed the subject. “This gives me an idea. How about if we think of things that really happened, which we never would have believed back then.”

“Oh, there were lots of those!” Trixie agreed and they began thinking of examples.

“Did you have fun this evening?” Brian asked, as he and Honey got ready for bed. “It sounded like you did.”

Honey smiled. “Yes, we did a lot of reminiscing about happy times – and all of the things we would never have predicted happening in our lives. It’s a long time since I’ve had so much fun.”

They both slipped under the covers and kissed goodnight.

“I’m glad you had fun,” he murmured in a sleepy voice. “We’re going to miss them a lot.”

Honey nodded and settled down to sleep. Her mind turned over the various topics on which they had talked, sorting through the memories.

The next thing she knew, she was standing in the house they had lived in fifteen years before, dusting an enormous number of unfamiliar ornaments, when her now-grown son stomped through the living room. He appeared to be at the height of teenage rebellion, with the scowl on his face that had seemed to stay there, unmoved, for years.

“How could you?” he yelled. “All this time, Uncle Dan was my father and you didn’t tell me!”

“I didn’t know,” she replied. “I only just found out, myself.”

“You should have told me,” he yelled.

Dan entered the room, looking like he had at the age of twenty, and put a hand on the teenager’s shoulder. “It’s okay, son. I didn’t know, either.”

“I’m really sorry,” Honey told both of them, as a large and very messy dog ran past, scattering mud and fur all over the place. “The caterers will be here soon, though, and that will make it all better.”

“What time is the wedding?” Dan asked, and she noticed that he had grown strange sideburns, like something from the 1970s.

“Two o’clock,” she answered. She also found that she was wearing a wedding dress. “I hope that Brian will show up. This has been really hard on him, you know.”

The dog came past again with a turkey leg in his mouth. His coat was just as muddy, but now had a reddish tint, reminiscent of the dog the Beldens had had when she first met them.

“No, Reddy!” she called. “It’s not Thanksgiving; this is my wedding!”

At this point, her mind rebelled against all of these contradictions and Honey awoke. She glanced to the side, where her husband was peacefully sleeping. Taking a breath, she tried to focus on what was real, rather than the nonsense of the dream.

It was true that her life had not unfolded in the way that her girlhood dreams had dictated, but neither had it resembled the nightmare imaginings of that long-ago game. On the whole, Honey was happy with the life she had led. The dramas of who would kiss whom were for the most part settled, but there was plenty left to life. With a contented sigh, Honey went back to sleep.

The End