MAYBE BABY

by ANDREA SMITH

  “Is there something upsetting you, Tylar?”

  (Oh, God no Trey, nothing at all. What the hell?)

  “I wanted to congratulate you on placing second in the competition last weekend, Tylar. Good job. I was sorry that I couldn’t make it to the arena. You brought a nice purse in for Sinclair Stables. You know that ten percent of that will be coming to you.”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it, Trey, but thank you.”

  “Well then, okay. I will send the communiqué to Mr. Sneed. We will forward your check to you as soon as we receive it.”

  “Thank you, Trey.”

  The next few weeks, Mark and I prepared exhaustively for the next competition. The rest of the crew had already went back to school, so new fall semester interns were populating the estates. Much of the tour business declined after the summer months, and the track closed for Friday quarter races after Labor Day. Dressage competition was still rampant in the U.S.; the next competition was September 22 and 23. It was the Fall Horse Trials at Malvern Park near Leesburg, Va. It was a two day event which included dressage, show jumping and cross country jumping events.

  Mark had entered Derringer and I in a musical freestyle event. We had worked on pieces of it since mid-August when Mark had returned. The choreography had been completed. It was set to a shortened version of Lady Gaga’s ‘Born This Way.’ Mark had eliminated the introduction portion of the song as the freestyle was going to be done with the lyrics left in. It was a compelling song for dressage at just a little over three minutes in length.

  Mark was also entering two horses from Sinclair Stables into a Quadrille event, combining the talent with two horses from a neighboring stable. A fellow trainer Mark had worked with previously had suggested they combine resources. It was a fairly hefty purse even split in half.

  Mark wanted me to purchase a new riding outfit before the competition at Malvern. I ordered another pair of white breeches with full seat leather which was customary in formal competitions. Instead of the typical black dressage coat, I ordered a solid navy blue, with a matching derby hat. I ordered a new pair of black dress boots. I decided to go with white gloves instead of the black ones; my hands were steady so there was no reason not to accentuate their movement. I ordered an additional white shirt and stock tie. I was told everything would be ready to pick up at the store mid-next week.

  The tack store was close to Denise’s salon, so I told Mark I wanted to run over there and see if she could fit me in for a trim and some fresh highlights. He told me to call him from my cell when I was ready.

  I spotted Denise as soon as I walked in the shop. She was cashing a customer out at the counter. Her eyes lit up upon seeing me come in.

  “Hey sweetie, how are you?

  “I’m fine, thanks, Neecie, how about you?”

  “No complaints here. Is this a social visit or business?"

  “Both if you can fit me in?”

  “No problem, sweetie.”

  Denise did my hair herself. She trimmed the ends just a bit, and did a foil highlight with some low lights added for more contrast. I splurged and treated myself to a pedicure and manicure while I was there. I seldom pampered myself with treatments such as those, probably because I was raised without those luxuries. My mom had seldom done without them though.

  “So,” Denise asked, “How are things going between you and Trey?”

  “They’re not,” I replied. “He is barely there and when he is, we do our best to avoid each other.”

  “That’s a shame,” Denise, said, shaking her head.

  “Maybe it’s serious between Trey and Charlotte,” I said, figuring if Denise had heard anything relative to them being a couple, I had provided a nice segue for her.

  “Please!” she hooted, “I already told you that is not happening. He’s not seeing anyone that I know of or else Ray would probably be aware of it.”

  We changed the subject to more pleasant topics. I phoned Mark when Denise said I had about ten minutes more under the dryer. She finished up with me, twirling the chair around so that I could take a look at the finished product.

  “You are simply gorgeous young lady."

  “Thanks to your magic, Denise.”

  I paid the cashier on my way out, sending a generous tip to Denise. She was one of my favorite peeps, along with Gina.

  Mark was waiting for me when I got outside. He was leaning up against his bright red truck; legs crossed enjoying the sunny fall day. He saw me and let out a long wolf whistle, grinning like a kid.

  “Stop,” I said, laughing.

  “You’re gonna look great in the navy blue dressage coat with your new hair color.”

  “Only that I will have my hair back in that god awful hairnet and have my derby hat on, remember?”

  “Yeah, I know, but I really think going with the blue on your jacket will lend itself well to the music we selected. Maybe we should think about dying Derringer’s tail?”

  I looked at him quickly but saw that he was still grinning.

  “Speaking of which,” I said, “I would like to have Derringer’s mane braided for this upcoming competition. Do you have any issue with that?”

  “Not as long as you keep his forelock unbraided; don’t want anyone mistaking him for a mare.”

  I had Mark drop me back at the office when we pulled in to the drive at ‘the Belle.' I needed to pick up my pay. Becky was in the office, on the computer when I went in.

  “Hey,” she greeted, looking up. “Ooh, I like what you did with your hair, very nice.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, “Just wanted to pick up my pay envelope.”

  “Just a sec,” she said, finishing up with whatever she was doing on the computer. She went to the safe, putting in the combination and opening the heavy door. She rifled through some envelopes and handed me two.

  “Your pay’s in one and your portion of the purse from a couple of weeks ago has been up here. I forgot to let you know. Oh wait a minute, you have a piece of mail also."

  She grabbed a business size envelope out of a tray on her desk.

  I saw that it was from Trey’s law firm. My name had been handwritten on it. I recognized it as Trey’s neat script. My heart did a slow pitter-patter.

  “Thanks,” I said, “Have you talked to Gina lately?”

  “Not since last week,” Becky said. “I let her know we’ve got another bumper crop of red wine ready soon if she wants her discount, she’ll need to get up here and help.”

  “Yes, it would be nice to have her here again,” I replied.

  I was anxious to get outside and open the envelope from Trey.

  “See you later,” I said to Becky, taking my leave.

  I went outside finding a bench to sit on while I tore open the envelope that had Trey’s writing on it. There was a check in the amount of $10,000 made payable to me. Trey had attached a note on his personal stationary that read, ‘From the Desk of Trey M. Sinclair, Esq.’at the top. I wondered what the middle initial ‘M’ stood for? I had never asked Trey about his middle name.

  His note was brief, and to the point:

  Tylar,

  Hope all is well. Here is the check for releasing liability of the handling of your trust from the firm of Findley, Morris and Sneed. Accepting this does not waive your right to criminally prosecute your mother should her whereabouts become known. I will forward you the deed on your property in Radcliff, KY once executed by the Hardin County Recorder’s office. You will need to contact the auditor’s office in Hardin County as well in order to get the semi-annual tax billing sent to your current address. Also, I recommend you contact the utility companies in Radcliff

  to have them put into your name. Please let me know if I can be of further assistance.

  Very truly yours,

  Trey M. Sinclair, Esq.

  It was not as I expected. He was simply all business now. If I thought that business in the stable last month between he and I was humiliating, it was nothing compared to this. />
  He treated me as if I had meant nothing to him, ever. This was the final humiliation. If he had shown anger at me it would have been better than this. I could deal with anger. I couldn’t deal with apathy. His lack of emotion diminished me to the core. What had I been thinking the night of the ‘what a fuck’? I had read all kinds of things into his behavior and his love-making, strike that - his fucking. What kind of a fantasy world had I created for myself those couple of months? It was nothing that a future could ever be built upon.

  I spent the next week and a half at the arena from sun-up to sundown working with Derringer. Mark was getting concerned at my obsessive practicing. It felt therapeutic to me; it made the days go faster, it wore me out so that I could sleep without dreams.

  My new riding outfit arrived at the store. Mark drove me in to pick it up. I hadn’t driven my Mercedes for weeks. I didn’t plan on driving it again. I didn’t want that car. It represented something that was despicable to me. It was a gift from Trey for me being his paid whore as far as I was concerned.

  Malvern Park was a five hour drive from Bristol. I was riding up with Mark; his dually was pulling the horse trailer with Derringer. Some of the other horses were being driven

  up by Ray and Charlie. We would be staying at a hotel near the park. I had all of my tack packed and ready to be loaded in the back of Mark’s truck.

  We left Bristol at 6 a.m. the day before the competition was scheduled to start. Mark wanted to make sure that Derringer was rested and calmed well before we took center stage in the arena. We made fairly good time, arriving in Malvern a little after noon. Mark went ahead and dropped me at the hotel. It was nothing fancy, but he wanted to take Derringer on to the stables at the park and get his registration completed and stall assignment in the stables. He said he’d be back later and we could have some dinner.

  Once in my room, I unpacked my clothing, hanging my riding outfit up so it would stay unwrinkled. I switched the hotel television on, watching it while unpacking and putting my clothes in the drawers. My jacket and white shirt needed pressing, so I went ahead and got the ironing board and iron out, heating the iron up to get the items pressed and hung back up.

  I was sleepy from the car ride and getting up at 5 a.m. was a bit earlier than I was used to. I laid down across the king sized bed and promptly fell asleep. I was awakened by the sound of my hotel phone ringing. It took me a moment to get my bearings and remember where I was. The six o’clock evening news was on. I had taken a fairly long nap.

  It was Mark on the phone; he was ready to go to dinner. Afterwards, we took a ride over to the park. I visited with Derringer while Mark discussed tomorrow’s schedule. The music freestyle started at 10 a.m. Derringer and I had pulled third in the line-up, after Amazing Grace and Saltillo.

  Not a bad position out of fifteen entries.

  We walked around the arena which was standard in all parks for these competitions. Mark had all of the tack unloaded and in the storage area of Derringer’s stall.

  Mark and I drove back to our hotel. He asked me if I wanted to have a cocktail at the lounge before retiring for the evening. Despite my nap this afternoon, I was still tired It was probably nerves. He said we would meet for breakfast in the hotel restaurant at 6:30 a.m. and then head to the park.

  Back in my room, I soaked in a long, luxurious bubble bath. I set my alarm for 5:15 a.m. and just to be sure I didn’t sleep through it, called down to the desk and requested a wake-up call for 5:30 a.m.

  I fell into a deep exhausted sleep and didn’t awake until my hotel alarm clock buzzed at 5:15 a.m. I got dressed and put some make-up on; thank God there were no rules in respect to that. I brushed my hair back and fashioned it into a tight bun. God, I looked like Jenna! I covered it from the top of my crown to the base of my hairline in back with a hairnet that was close to the color of my hair. That would secure it and still allow for my derby to fit comfortably on my head.

  My dress boots were shined to perfection. My riding outfit was stunning. My navy blue derby actually looked a little saucy perched on my head. I was glad that Mark had persuaded me to go with that.

  White gloves in hand, I was ready. I headed down to meet Mark for breakfast. He was already in the hotel restaurant, waving to me as I approached the entrance. He stood up as I got to the booth he was in and grasped my hand.

  “Tylar, you look exquisite - pure perfection.”

  I knew what he was doing; he wanted to assure me

  all was fine so that I could concentrate on the competition. Nerves played a very big part in the results of these competitions.

  “Sit, what would you like for breakfast?”

  “Mark, my stomach is in knots, I think I want to play it safe with a toasted bagel and apple juice?”

  Mark signaled for the waitress and within a few minutes, my breakfast had been served. Mark and I reviewed the various choreographed portions of the routine which were difficult, he reminded me of how to handle those for the hundredth time. I swear he was making me more nervous.

  “Tylar,” he finally said, “Don’t worry. You are prepared. Derringer is prepared. Do you know what your

  greatest strength is as you enter the arena today?”

  He had me there.

  “Your biggest strength is that your horse loves you. You have a bond that in all of my years in this business I’ve not seen until now. Use that bond, Tylar, trust it. You will be fine.”

  I was glad Mark had shared that with me. Suddenly, I was pumped. I was ready; I welcomed the competition. We arrived at the park plenty early. I went to Derringer immediately, talking and brushing him and then getting him in his tack. I started braiding his mane, and Mark went out of the stable to check on the horses scheduled for the Quadrille.

  I took advantage of this opportunity with Mark away to have a one-on-one with Derringer while braiding his mane. I told him how much I loved him. I told him that no matter what, we just needed to go out into that arena and give it our best. I finished the braiding. He looked magnificent.

  Mark and I walked Derringer out from the stables awaiting our cue.

  “Everything will be fine, Tylar.”

  “I know it will, Mark.”

  I believed it.

  It seemed like no time had passed at all and we were announced. The announcement blared over the public address systems, introducing five year old Derringer, owned by Trey Sinclair of Sinclair Stables, Bristol, Virginia; trained by Mark Montgomery; ridden by Tylar Preston.

  The opening chords of Lady Gaga’s ‘Born this Way,’ came across the speakers. It was as if Derringer just took over.

  We were out in the arena; Derringer commenced his prancing as Lady Gaga continued.

  From the halt and salute at the beginning until the halt and salute at the end, the execution was perfect.

  Derringer’s impulsion; his stride in the collected canter, his leg yield in trot were perfectly choreographed to the sound of the song. His circle right was perfection. The collected gaits down the center line could not have been any better. It was over too soon. I wanted more. Derringer had impressed everyone.

  We took our leave of the arena. Mark was there waiting, grinning from ear to ear. He pulled me down off of Derringer, twirling me around and around before he set me

  down. We waited for the judges to show our scores. In a few moments they were posted.

  In freestyle music, the score is comprised of two separate areas: technical execution accounts for 50% of the total score; artistic impression, which is basically the harmony

  between the horse and rider accounts for the other 50% of the total score. Our score reflected a perfect 150 points, the maximum allowed for artistic impression; technical execution was 135 points, giving us a total of 285 points. I was ecstatic! There were still quite a few contenders, but I was determined to remain positive on our outcome.

  It was hot out and I was sweating a bit and feeling a little weak due to my light breakfast. I asked Mark if he would mind if I went back
to the hotel to change and get some rest. He had no problem with it and drove me back to the hotel. He said he would call me later and let me know the standings.

  Once in my hotel room, I got out of the hot riding attire, putting my robe on. I ordered some lunch through room service and lay back on the bed to relax. My lunch was delivered within twenty minutes. I wolfed it down I was so hungry. I drank a full glass of ice water to hydrate me. Once finished, I stretched out on my bed, cranking up the room air conditioning and took a nap.

  Once again the hotel telephone awoke me abruptly from my nap. It was Mark.

  “Are you ready for this, Tylar? You took first in this morning’s competition.”

  “No,” I said, totally in shock.

  “Oh yes you did,” he confirmed. “The proof will be when you get your trophy tomorrow evening at the awards ceremony. Excellent job.”

  “Right back at you,” I said. “Mark, you did all of the hard stuff with the choreography and training of me,” I emphasized.

  “Tylar,” he said earnestly, “You are my success story, for real. You had so little training when I met you. Don’t get me wrong, you had lots of experiences with horses in general, but so little experience with technical dressage. You blew me away with how quickly you learned. You’re a natural you know?”

  “I don’t know about that,” I said. “I do know that Derringer played the major role.”

  “He is awesome,” Mark agreed.

  “Hey,” I’m getting ready to come back to the hotel. My quadrille event is scheduled for 1 p.m. tomorrow. Want to get some dinner?”

  “Mark, I just need to catch up on my rest. I’m just worn out from all of this. See you tomorrow?”

  “Sure thing. Have a good evening.”

  The following day I felt well rested for the closing event ceremonies which started at 7 p.m. Mark’s quadrille event had come in second place, securing a total purse of $60,000 which would be a $30,000 net purse for Sinclair Stables.