The Mystery at Mead's Mountain

while everyone else clapped and cheered.
    “Jenny, you little sneak!” cried Linda. “We didn’t even know you were working on tying your shoes.”
    Jenny glowed under all the praise and approval.
    “A tea party is the perfect celebration,” agreed Wanda. “Shall I pour while you pass the cookies, Jenny?”
    As Wanda poured the fruit punch, Jenny handed the platter of green-frosted Christmas-tree cookies to Mart. Mart politely took one and put it on his plate.
    “You get two,” said Jenny. “Everybody gets two.”
    “Terrific!” said Mart as he snatched another from the platter he’d already passed on to Eric.
    “Did you help make these cookies, Jenny?” Eric asked, speaking up for almost the first time that evening.
    She nodded proudly. “I got to help punch them out with the tree cutter and put the little red decorations on the top.”
    “They look very nice,” said Eric. “I liked to make cookies when I was your age, too.”
    Somehow, Trixie thought, Eric looks out of place sitting on the floor, drinking juice out of a doll’s cup, and talking about baking cookies.
    After the group was done eating, Linda and Wanda insisted on doing the dishes. Jenny took Eric’s hand and said, “Come see my new puzzle. I have lots of ’em.” She led him to the dining room table where her puzzles were spread out.
    The Bob-Whites settled on the floor around the fireplace and listened to Mrs. Fleming explain what it was like to have a handicapped child. She told them about the adjustments and sacrifices they had to make when they discovered that Jenny was handicapped, about Jenny’s schooling and all that she was learning, and about the specialness of having Jenny as part of their family. “It’s important for kids like Jenny to have friends, to feel loved and needed,” she concluded.
    “It’s easy to see that you and your family are making her feel exactly that way,” said Honey.
    Mrs. Fleming smiled. “It’s not hard to do.”
    Jenny and Eric came back into the living room. “You know, Mrs. Fleming, your daughter is one fantastic puzzle-putter-togetherer,” Eric said. “She was showing me where the pieces go when I couldn’t figure it out for myself.”
    “Some of her puzzles are a bit tricky if you’re not familiar with them,” Mrs. Fleming responded. “But she loves them and does very well with them. She even has her own puzzle company.”
    “What?” asked Trixie.
    “Go get a couple of your puzzles, Jenny. My husband designs children’s puzzles,” Mrs. Fleming explained. “He cuts them out of wood, and we all help with the sanding. Then Jenny chooses the colors and paints the puzzle pieces, frequently without any assistance. They’re called ‘Jenzles’ and are sold on consignment in several stores around the area. The money goes into Jenny’s savings fund.”
    Jenny came in carrying a few brightly colored wooden puzzles in animal shapes and simple designs.
    “What a neat gift for Bobby!” Trixie exclaimed. “Will you sell me the star puzzle, Jenny?”
    “And I’ll buy four more for my twin brothers and sisters,” Di said enthusiastically.
    “These are very easy puzzles,” Mrs. Fleming reminded them. “They really are for preschoolers. How old are your brothers and sisters?”
    “Bobby is the oldest and he’s six,” Trixie answered. “But that doesn’t matter. The colors are so pretty it’s like giving them a picture.”
    While Linda and Wanda wrapped the puzzles in leftover Christmas paper, the others thanked Mrs. Fleming and Jenny for the tea party.
    Jenny vigorously shook hands with each of the Bob-Whites, and when she came to Eric, she added a shy hug and said, “Thank you for playing puzzles with me.
    He gave her a small kiss on the cheek and said, “You’re a very nice young lady, Jenny.”
    I don’t get it, Trixie thought to herself once they were back in the van. Eric’s so kind and gentle with Jenny; she obviously adores him. And kids, especially ones as sensitive as Jenny, seldom make mistakes about people....
    Trixie lost her train of thought about Eric when she saw the interesting decor of the Purple Turnip. Inside the old barn, it was cozy and bright. All kinds of healthy plants were suspended from the open-beamed ceiling. Where the milking stalls had been, a bustling kitchen now existed. People were actually working behind stanchions that had once held cows in place.
    An assortment of tables covered the main floor and the small loft. Some were old