Blue Ribbons

by Kim Ablon Whitney

  “We should go out! The two of us.” Mrs. Mullins was leaning forward in her seat, her face flushed. “Sometime just you and me. A girls’ night out.”

  Mom glanced at me. We were waiting for them, our towels wrapped around us, warmer now, but still shivering.

  “Mom!” Hailey gave her mom a disgusted and disapproving look, like she was the parent.

  “There’s nothing wrong with a girls’ night out.” Mrs. Mullins shook her head. “Sometimes I can’t believe I have such a prude for a daughter.”

  Hailey huffed and turned away from her mother. She muttered, “She’s so stupid.”

  I didn’t really see what was so bad about her mom wanting a girls’ night out. And my mom could probably use it to loosen up a bit, but Hailey seemed horrified.

  Mom stood up and so did Mrs. Mullins. “So, what do you say? It would be good for you, with everything going on . . .”

  “Maybe, maybe,” Mom brushed her off. “Okay, Regan, we better head up to the rooms.”

  Rooms. Hailey and her mom always shared a room. Mom and I always had separate rooms. It was colder out of the pool area. We scampered into the elevator and pressed the ‘door closed’ button five times. Jane had texted her dad and he was back at the hotel so she got off on the second floor. The Mullins and Mom and I got off on the fourth floor.

  “See you in the a.m.,” Mrs. Mullins said. “Sleep tight—don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

  Mrs. Mullins laughed and Hailey shook her head one more time. I waved at Hailey.

  I took a long, hot shower and laid out my clothes for the morning on the extra bed. I was in bed, reading on my iPad, when Mom came in to say goodnight.

  “Don’t stay up much later,” she said.

  “I won’t.” I looked at her and tried to imagine her going out with Mrs. Mullins. “Do you think you and Hailey’s mom will go out sometime?”

  Mom made a funny, choking sort of sound. “No, definitely not.”

  Suddenly I was so mad at Mom. I was offended for Mrs. Mullins, for starters. Was Mom such a snob that she couldn’t be friends with someone like Mrs. Mullins? “Why not? It sounds like fun. What’s wrong with a girls’ night out? Maybe you could use some more friends and some more fun.”

  Mom frowned. “I have friends.”

  “Wendy. Mrs. Mullins seems more fun.” Mom and Wendy met up every few months to go to the theater or the ballet. It hardly seemed like a raucous good time.

  “Let me worry about my social life,” Mom said. “And you need to get some sleep.”

  “A few more minutes of reading,” I said.

  She kissed me lightly on the cheek. “Only a few.”

  She was almost to the door when I said, “Are you going to die this time?”

  Mom stopped, her back to me. She stood there for a few moments before turning around.

  “You need to stop worrying and get some sleep or else you’ll ride horribly and I’ll feel terrible that it was all my fault.” She smiled a fake Mother of TVMG smile.

  It was the biggest non-answer-parental-brush-off ever, which meant I knew the real answer.

  “Okay,” I said because what else could I say? I couldn’t say, sleep in here tonight, Mom. Sleep right next to me so I can wake up and know you’re still here. So I can pretend you won’t leave me.

  I couldn’t fall asleep. All I could think of was Mom dying. I made a promise to myself to love Tyler and win everything with him if somehow Mom could be okay. Then I worried about Dad and how he’d ever make it without her. Then I imagined her funeral and what it would be like or how I’d act. TVMG would wear a tasteful black dress and give a touching eulogy, the whole time clearly building massive amounts of character. Finally my thoughts turned morbid and I thought about how if she died, she’d actually be gone—poof, disappeared. Mom wanted to be cremated and I thought about her body burning. I started to breathe rapidly. It was too dark in the room and the TV looked sinister somehow, as did the heavy hotel curtains. I wished I was home. I turned on the light. Maybe seeing the hotel room was worse. I turned it back off. My mom could really die this time. What I’d read online said very few people in her situation made it. I found myself promising God I would do anything, if he just didn’t let my mother die, when I’d never prayed to God in my life. I clutched my pillow to my chest, shaking and sobbing.

  I don’t know when or how I fell asleep. Seeing the light of day made me feel better, but I knew more nights like that one would come.

  Chapter 22

  * * *

  The next morning, we parked in the exhibitors’ lot and walked to the tent where we were stabled. We passed Vanessa, who owned the mobile tack store, pulling out bottles of fly spray, water buckets, and halters. The stabling manager, Roger, a clipboard under his arm, buzzed by on his four-wheeler. By the tent, the farrier was opening up the back of his truck, revealing hundreds of horseshoes in different shapes and sizes. A groom holding a big bay horse waited nearby, the first customer of the day.

  The announcer’s familiar voice rang out over the show: “Welcome to day four here at the Montclair Horse Show. We’ll be starting off with the green ponies in the pony ring, USEF Medal in ring one, and younger amateur-owner hunters, we’re looking for you in the main hunter ring. Eight o’clock start all around the horn today.”

  Tyler was all braided and Martha was trimming his whiskers with a razor.

  “Morning, kiddo,” she said.

  Mom passed Martha the coffee we’d gotten on the way to the show.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking a sip.

  Susie stopped by and collected her coffee. She told us there were eight green ponies, twelve smalls and thirteen mediums, so she predicted Drizzle would go around ten and Tyler and Sammy closer to noon.

  “Tyler was so good yesterday I don’t think we need to hack him around,” she added. “Martha will take him for a hand-walk and you can just get on a little early, okay?”

  “Yup.” I smiled, but my stomach felt uneasy. It was weird, though, because I wasn’t nervous about doing well. It was something else I was feeling.

  Jane picked up a catch ride in the greens and Hailey and I went up to watch her. It was a roan large with a cresty neck. It didn’t jump the absolute best, but it moved cute and with Jane’s accurate ride she was first and second over fences. Watching her talk to the trainer of the pony, I couldn’t help but feel jealous. How cool would it be to be such a good rider that people asked you to show their ponies? Frankie wasn’t ready to show yet, but Tommy had brought him so he could get used to all the action. Jane had hacked him around the show grounds and Tommy had grooms take him out for hand-walks.

  After Jane rode, the three of us went back to the barn and Hailey and I got dressed to show. Mom braided my hair into two braids and tied them with blue ribbons. I started wearing blue for good luck when I was in short stirrup and it became all I ever wore. My mom bought my bows from Belle & Bow Equestrian. They made all kinds of beautifully colored bows, but I always wore my blue ones. Hailey changed the color of hers every time, and Jane wore her hair up in her helmet like the bigger kids did.

  I did well in the smalls with Drizzle, winning the first class and placing third in the second class. For the mediums, Susie put our numbers in early and Hailey, Jane, and I got started cantering small verticals, then a medium oxer, and finishing over a bigger vertical. We all schooled well and I could feel people’s eyes on me again—parents, other trainers and riders—wondering if Tyler was going to be perfect today and if anyone would have a chance to beat me. Maybe they thought West Salem and Old Lyme were flukes, and now that I’d had him several weeks, I’d have messed him up. I wasn’t sure what they wanted to see. Did they want me to do badly so they could be happy that buying a high-priced winner didn’t mean you’d win? Or did they secretly want me to be perfect so they could hate me even more for it? The only thing I knew was I didn’t like the extra attention.

  Jane went early in the class, like she always liked to do, and Coco was
better through her changes.

  I waited at the in gate, watching Hailey, while Martha wiped my boots and Tyler’s mouth. Hailey turned in a good round. She had one long spot that Donald had to reach for, but overall it was really good.

  “Okay?” Susie asked me. “Just find your rhythm and keep it. Let the jumps come to you.”

  I glanced over to where Mom was watching from the other side of the ring. Dad was away on business and by the time he got back later that day, it didn’t really make sense for him to come. Mom had a big straw hat on so I couldn’t see her face. Even though she made a living on cosmetics, Mom always said that the best way to have beautiful skin was to stay out of the sun.

  “Go get ’em,” Susie said, as I entered the ring.

  I passed Hailey coming out and she whispered, “Good luck.”

  I rode my opening circle and just like Susie said I found a good rhythm. It was easy enough on Tyler. Sometimes in my opening circle everything felt just right and I knew I was going to find every distance. Other times—mostly on other ponies—my canter felt choppy or too slow and I knew every distance was going to be like fighting a battle. But Tyler didn’t seem to have any mode but perfect. I felt like my job was not to screw things up, not to get in his way, and that didn’t feel much like riding. I wanted to come out of the ring feeling like I accomplished something, not like I was the girl chosen from the audience for a magic trick.

  So I decided on the way to the first jump to put my theory to the test and try to let Tyler do everything. But it turned out doing nothing was harder than you would think. I mean, you can’t make yourself not see the distance. I guess I could have closed my eyes but that seemed like going too far. Still, I did as little as I could, but when I saw a distance, it was nearly impossible not to squeeze him forward or lightly steady him. So I guess riding Tyler wasn’t exactly a total piece of cake; still he made it look so easy that no one ever believed I had any part in making it happen.

  Susie clapped and whooped as I left the ring. Hailey’s second trip was a little better than her first and my second trip in the handy class was really good, too. Of course, I ended up winning both classes. I was also fourth and sixth with Sammy. Hailey did really well, too. The judge must have liked Donald a lot because she was third in the first class and second in the second class, and even Jane got a low ribbon in the first class with Coco. Dakota was second and fifth. Everyone congratulated me and I smiled and tried to act like I was super happy, but I just felt dull inside.

  We had the hack, too, so after we jogged we hopped off and the grooms took off the ponies’ martingales. Hailey always hacked Donald even though she rarely got a ribbon and if she did it was vomit-colored. There were a few other really good movers in the hack so it wasn’t a given that Tyler would win. Susie reminded me to make sure I didn’t get lost in the crowd. I had a nice pass down the long side by myself at the trot in the first direction and I could tell the judge was watching me. Out of the corner of my eye, I even thought I saw her jot down my number. When we reversed direction I looked around at the other ponies. I figured it was probably between me and Smitten for the win. As much as I didn’t love winning, I didn’t want Dakota to win. I couldn’t get much of a good pass at the trot in the second direction. I did get a nice pass at the canter. The announcer called for us to walk and line up. I lined up next to Hailey, but then kind of wished I hadn’t. It must have been awful for her to always wait in line while my number was called first, or maybe second.

  “We have the results of the medium pony hunter under saddle.”

  At the announcer’s voice, I sat up taller in the saddle and scratched Tyler’s withers with one hand.

  “Winning our class today is number 457, Smitten, owned and ridden by Dakota Pearce of Bronxsville, New York.”

  Dakota walked her pony forward to collect the blue ribbon. I guess all the time in the bitting rig had done its trick. Her pony had kept his head down. Did Dakota know what Lenny and Kitty had done to her pony? She probably didn’t care. She looked annoying just walking out of the ring—the way she held her chin up, as if she’d been crowned queen of the universe. It was only a hack class, after all. I would probably still be second—the one time I wouldn’t have minded winning.

  “And in second place, number 529, Woodland’s Tried and True, ridden by Regan Sternlicht.”

  I patted Tyler’s outstretched neck as I walked forward for the red ribbon. As I left the ring, I listened to the rest of the results, hoping to hear Hailey’s number called. Maybe someone had picked up a wrong lead and she’d get a ribbon or the judge would give her a ribbon since he seemed to like Donald. Vomit-colored was better than nothing, and even a half-point for sixth place could help her be reserve champion and qualify for Pony Finals. Jane was fifth with Coco. Hailey didn’t place.

  I could tell she was disappointed as she came out of the ring.

  “Want to wait around and troll the large ponies?” I asked, hoping to lift her spirits. “Abby Wilde’s showing so we totally might get rides.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, definitely.”

  Chapter 23

  * * *

  The grooms took the ponies back to the barn. We’d have to wait through the two over fences for the large ponies. There were only eight larges and we liked watching anyway. Sometimes I thought I could sit all day, watching round after round and never get bored. Abby Wilde had three of the eight large ponies, which meant the classes dragged on because they had to wait for her to switch ponies and warm up. But it also meant that, when it came time for the under saddle, we’d have a good chance at hacking one of her ponies.

  While we watched the over fences, Hailey calculated the championship points for our division. “You have twenty-six points,” she said. “Dakota was second, fifth, and first so she has seventeen points. You’ll definitely be champion, no matter what.”

  “Not if I don’t place tomorrow,” I said.

  Hailey made a face. “Like that’s going to happen. You don’t even need to win. You probably just need to get like one low ribbon to be champion. But if I get two good ribbons and Dakota doesn’t do well, I could be reserve. The points are really spread out.”

  “That would be so awesome,” I said. “You can totally do it.”

  “Maybe it’ll rain.” Hailey looked at the sky, hopeful.

  When the over fences classes ended we meandered over to the in gate. We tried to act casual, like we were just hanging out, and not really scoping out rides.

  Abby’s ponies all got jogs and her trainer, Trish, scanned the in gate for joggers. Her eyes fell on us, conveniently still in our show coats. “Wanna jog a pony, girls?”

  “Sure,” we both said at the same time.

  I let Hailey step forward first and claim Melbourne. I got Summer Solstice. Melbourne was the nicer of the two ponies and I hoped Hailey would get the better jogs. Abby jogged her best pony, Elemental.

  In the first class, Elemental won, Melbourne was third, and Summer Solstice fifth. In the second class, Melbourne won so Abby quickly switched with Hailey so she could jog Melbourne. Hailey jogged Elemental in second and I was fourth with Summer Solstice.

  When we came out of the ring, Hailey and I exchanged a quick hopeful glance as we waited to see if Trish was going to ask us to hack the ponies.

  “You girls want to hack them?” Trish asked.

  “Definitely.”

  “You got a saddle nearby?”

  “Yup,” Hailey said.

  The grooms saddled up the ponies. Trish asked for Hailey’s name and then said, “Hailey, you’ll hack Melbourne. She’s pretty straightforward. Just watch your canter transitions. You need a good bit of leg to get her going. Do you have spurs on?”

  “Small ones,” Hailey said.

  Trish glanced at her spurs. “Should do.” She turned to me. “Regan, right?”

  I nodded. Of course she knew me. The girl who’d bought Tyler.

  “Summer Solstice can be a little stiff, especially to the right. T
ry to bend her in the corners when you can but not too much that you get her upset.”

  I nodded as one of Abby’s grooms threw me into the saddle. I patted Summer Solstice and picked up my reins. Riders were already in the ring. There was no time to trot around in the schooling area. I followed Hailey into the ring as the announcer called the class to order.

  I felt more nervous for this hack class than I had any of the times I’d shown Tyler. I wanted to prove to Trish and anyone else watching that I could ride, and I certainly didn’t want to make a stupid mistake like pick up the wrong lead. That would get everyone talking.

  At the announcer’s cue, we picked up the trot. Summer Solstice was comfortable and didn’t seem that stiff to me. Abby had a lot of money and really nice ponies. I wondered if she ever felt bad about being so lucky? She certainly didn’t seem to care.

  I tried to use the corners of the ring when I could tell the judge wasn’t looking to bend Summer Solstice like Trish had said to. I used more inside leg than inside hand like Susie had taught us. Then I let her flow on a looser rein down the long side.

  Abby was already doing the children’s hunters and three-foot medals, in addition to the large ponies. Next year I heard she’d be starting the big eq and moving up to the junior hunters. I also heard she was in the market for her first jumper. There were plenty of kids like her, who had the best horses and didn’t seem to feel badly about it the way I did. What was wrong with me?

  We came down to a walk and then picked up the canter. I got the right lead and eased into a little half-seat, letting Summer Solstice stretch out her neck.

  I guess one way kids dealt with having really nice horses was to push themselves even harder. Molly Donovan was only fourteen and she was already doing small grand prix classes. Heather Mack went to Europe on a Nations Cup team when she was sixteen.

  The announcer called for us to walk and reverse. If this direction went well, I had a chance of being in the top three as far as I could gauge. But this was Summer Solstice’s harder direction according to Trish.