No Time for Horses

by Shannon Kennedy

  “Actually, I have a letter here from Maura and John Gibson offering to provide you with a room in their house as well as what we used to call ‘board.’ That’s your meals, electricity, and utilities.” Ingrid frowned at Mom, then at Rick. “When Vicky was hurt last weekend, they found your parenting skills less than ideal.”

  “I don’t think allowing their son’s girlfriend to move in is a particularly sound solution,” Rick said. “They wouldn’t even let me talk to Vicky when I called to check on her.”

  “You weren’t checking on me, Rick. You wanted to bring the kids over for me to babysit after you caused an accident. I had a concussion and neither of you even considered staying with me.”

  “You’re sixteen. And if you’re emancipated, who would take care of you?” Rick shot another disgusted look at Mom when more tears streamed down her face. “Oh, that’s a big help. Focus, Gretchen. If Vicky moves out, who will take care of the kids? You’re never home.”

  “Because she works all the time,” I shot back. “She’s always held at least one full-time job, even when she was pregnant. He’s right, Ingrid. If I move out, who will take care of the kids? We’re not talking ‘Father of the Year.’ Like John Gibson says, Rick isn’t much more than a sperm donor.”

  “That isn’t your worry, Vicky.” Ingrid tapped her pen on the table. “Rick would have to pay more child support. Your mom can’t work full-time and look after five kids. It’s not reasonable.”

  “Stay home?” Mom gaped at Ingrid, then me. “Could I? Would the court accept that as my parenting plan? If I was home, then Vicky wouldn’t have to leave, would she? I know she’s old for her age, Ingrid, but she’s really not ready.”

  “Hey, I have a job and a place to live. Two places. What do you mean I’m not ready?”

  “You have gaps in your knowledge,” Mom said. “You can run a household and take care of children, but you don’t know how to budget or manage money. You can’t drive. You’re not ready to sign contracts or rent an apartment. Yes, you can work at the stable. What about other jobs? What would you do if you needed more money? Do you have a resume? Can you find another position? Have you practiced your interviewing skills?”

  I figured she was grasping at straws. I mean, I couldn’t do those things, but how hard would they be? I was smart. I could learn to handle my finances. I could even sign up for a money management class next spring semester as one of my electives. I flicked a quick glance at Rick and saw the horror on his face. He saw his money going down the drain with Ingrid pushing Mom to take on a full-time role in the house.

  “I hadn’t thought of those skills,” I said. “Did you, Ingrid?”

  “You can learn them at the Gibsons’,” the counselor said. “John is an accountant. He can teach you to balance a checkbook. Maura is a stay-at-home mom with her own business. She can teach you about contracts.”

  “Yes, but Mom could too,” I said. “I like this idea. She needs to be with the kids so they know how much she loves them.”

  “And how much she loves you,” Ingrid said. “Your parents may not be in touch with their feelings, but they both love you, Vicky.”

  “You really don’t want to go there,” I said. “They don’t. I’m just the unpaid au-pair, but as long as someone steps up for the kids, I’m good with it.”

  “What?” Rick glared at me. “How can you say such a thing? I’ve been a dad to you for ten years.”

  “You suck at it,” I told him. “Last year when I had the flu, Mom told you I needed to sleep when she went to work. You headed off to play golf with your friends and left me with the kids. John Gibson spent more time with me this past weekend than you have in the past ten years. He’s come to more football and basketball games when I’m cheering than you or Mom ever have.”

  “His son’s on those teams,” Rick said, “and we have to work.”

  “If I didn’t have to work anymore, I could come,” Mom said. “I’d like to see you cheer. I could buy my own presents and then I’d know you had some from me, not just gift cards. It would make Christmas much nicer for all of us.” She paused. “Rick doesn’t live there anymore. We can do whatever I want this year, and I won’t have to try to placate him every moment of every day.”

  It was hard to believe my mother was thirty-six. She sounded like such a kid. I sighed and shook my head. “Are you going to ask me what I want for Christmas now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine,” I said. “I want one of Robin’s puppies and then I wouldn’t be scared to stay home by myself.”

  “Not in my house,” Rick said. “Dogs are noisy, smelly animals. They wreak havoc on property values.”

  “It’s not your house anymore,” I said. “You haven’t lived there in seven months.”

  “I pay the mortgage.”

  “Not in seven months,” Mom said. “You stopped paying the mortgage and taxes when you left. It’s why I work as much as I can. I don’t want to move and lose the money I’ve invested. Besides, kids need stability. They’ve had enough of a transition with the divorce. They don’t need to be bounced around like tennis balls.”

  The phone rang, interrupting their new argument about who paid more for our house. Ingrid listened and then glanced at me. “Okay, I’ll send her right out. Thank him for me. Arrange for him to come with Vicky to her next appointment. I need to meet this boy.”

  “What is it?” I asked when she replaced the receiver. “Jack?”

  “Yes. He says that the snow is sticking, and it’s up to an inch on the ground. He wants to run you to the grocery store so you can stock up in case the weather gets worse. He can’t wait any longer. The roads won’t improve.”

  “Okay.” I stood up, pushed my chair in, and looked at Mom. “How much can I spend at the store?”

  She thought for a moment and then said, “Two hundred, and get a tree, a pesticide-free one. Organic would be better.”

  “What?” Rick glared at her. “There’s an artificial Christmas tree in the basement, completely decorated. Live trees just make a mess.”

  “And they smell lovely.” Mom opened her purse, pulled out some cash. “They have ornaments at the dollar store. Get some construction paper and lots of popcorn too. I’ll teach you kids what an old-fashioned tree looks like.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Friday, December 6th, 6:00 a.m.

  I heard the TV news as soon as I walked into the kitchen. I saw Mom in her recliner in the family room, bundled up in her robe and slippers. She didn’t have an early shift at the casino and must be doing the parent thing on snow watch. I crossed to the counter and took a mug off the rack on the wall. When I looked out the window over the sink, I saw nearly a foot of accumulated snow on the deck. Wow, what fun! I’d have to shovel it off later.

  I poured a cup of coffee, added cream, and went to join Mom, curling up on the couch to stare at the talking heads. “What’s the latest word?”

  “Snow day for all of you. The schools are closed everywhere.” Mom sipped her coffee. “I had a message from my manager at the casino last night. Business was really slow, so I have the weekend off unless we get a sudden thaw.”

  “Will we be okay?” I bit my lip, suddenly worried about how much I’d spent on food last night. “If I could get to the barn, Rocky would definitely pay me. She always has more work when all the horses have to stay inside.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Mom said. “We have food in the cupboards, an organic Christmas tree in the garage, and movies to watch. We can have a nice time together, and I’ll have time to put together that parenting plan Ingrid wants.”

  For once, Mom didn’t sound upset or concerned. Had she been replaced by a pod person? I allowed the silence to build up between us before I said, “I was really angry with Rick yesterday, but I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  “It’s my fault too,” Mom said, “and I’m sorry. I should have realized how much of a control freak he was and the way that he treated you was inexcusable. I ought to have stood
up to him a lot sooner, but he wore me down with the constant pressure. He slammed out shortly after you left with Jack, and I had a nice conversation with Ingrid.”

  “She’s a good person. I didn’t know that when I started talking to her, but she has a lot of great advice.”

  “She certainly does.” Mom stood up and went after the coffeepot. She came back and refilled both of our cups then returned to the kitchen with the carafe. “I didn’t realize how much being raised in foster care affected me. I kept thinking if I tried hard enough to please Rick, we’d have a happy home and I wouldn’t be abandoned. It didn’t work.”

  “It takes two people to make a relationship,” I said, “and he didn’t try half as hard as you did. I’m assuming that he’ll be busy at the tire store today and won’t be coming for the kids.”

  “You assume correctly.” Mom sank back into her recliner. “He already left a message to that effect. He says the earliest he’ll be around is next Friday. I’m going to talk to Penny at the daycare and have her start picking up your brothers and sisters at the elementary school when you go to the barn.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I put my mug on the end table. “How about a muffin to go with the coffee? I’m having an almond poppyseed one. Want the blueberry one?”

  “Sounds good.” She hesitated then added carefully, “I’m not going to call Rick and remind him to pick up the kids anymore, honey. It’s not good for me or for them. He needs to step up and be a ‘real’ dad.”

  “It’s okay.” I split my muffin in half and buttered it. Then I did the same with hers. “I’ll pick up the slack when I can, and if we’re both busy, we’ll get Penny.”

  “And Darby said she’d help too.” Mom smiled at me when I returned to the family room and passed her the saucer with the blueberry muffin. “Thanks. I’m not trying to harass you, but I have to rent the downstairs apartment. If my hours at the casino continue to be erratic, we’ll need that money to make ends meet.”

  I nodded and bit into my muffin. We watched the TV news for a while. As usual, life in western Washington had pretty much slowed to a standstill with the first snowflake. People abandoned their cars on the freeway. Businesses closed. On a commercial, I asked, “Can we put the tree in the living room this year? I think it’s about time we started using the room instead of saving it for special occasions that never happen.”

  “Makes sense to me. Ingrid suggested we have a family meeting and make up our own rules so all of us are more comfortable here. I thought we’d invite Darby to join us.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. “When will you know about her friend who wants the basement?”

  “This weekend.”

  * * * *

  Friday, December 7th, 2:00 p.m.

  It didn’t come as a surprise when Ms. Walker called to let me know that the cheer competition for Saturday had been postponed due to the weather. The snow hadn’t melted. In fact, we had another four inches fall during the morning, and the forecaster predicted even more. We’d probably be out of school on Monday too.

  Kevin and Lance spent all morning having snowball fights with the boys in our cul-de-sac. The girls hung out with their friends but that meant visiting other houses, so I didn’t see them either. I took Chrissy out with me while I shoveled off the deck. She got to throw snow between the rails. Fun times for somebody not yet two years old. When we went back inside, Mom and Darby were stringing cranberries on long lines of thread.

  “What’s that for?” I asked, stripping Chrissy out of her boots and snowsuit. “How can you cook them that way?”

  “Oh, we’re not cooking them,” Darby said. “We’re decorating the tree with them.”

  “Wow, that’s cool.” I carried Chrissy’s wet clothes into the bathroom. She toddled after me. I heard the landline ring and Mom answer the phone. Meanwhile, Chrissy followed me to get a box of her blocks. I set her up in the family room, building and knocking down towers amid giggles.

  Mom replaced the receiver then looked at me and Darby. “I’ve been laid off at the casino. They said they’re cutting staff because it’s not going to pick up before New Year’s Eve, and they’ll call me if they need me then.”

  “I expected that when you told me about Vicky’s accident and filing a medical claim.” Darby slid her needle into another red berry. “You may pay for the insurance, but the casino doesn’t like it when you actually try to use your benefits, Gretchen.”

  “That’s illegal,” Mom said. “They can’t penalize me that way.”

  “Oh, they’re not admitting what they do,” Darby told her. “They’ll say it was the change in weather and lack of business. On Monday, go file for unemployment.”

  “I will.” Mom flicked a glance at me then sat back down and picked up her strand of cranberries. “Don’t tell your brothers and sisters about this, Vicky. I don’t want them worrying.”

  “I can keep a secret.” I turned on the stove to heat up the teakettle. “Will you teach me to string berries?”

  “Yes, but make some popcorn,” Mom said. “We’ll start stringing that next. When the kids are ready for a break, have them make paper chains.”

  “Is that why you wanted construction paper?” I asked.

  Mom nodded. She didn’t say anything and neither did I. Okay, she probably expected me to critique her old-fashioned decorations, but I thought it was kind of cute in a down-home way. I knew that Kevin, Cathy, and the twins would get off on making our tree special. I had bought some gold and silver glass bulbs at the dollar store, but I couldn’t get a lot on our budget.

  I got out the bag of popcorn and measured a scoop into the electric popper. While it snapped and cracked into the bowl, Mom got up. She came over and pulled the food coloring out of the cupboard. “What’s that for?”

  “Let the popcorn cool a little and then mix in some red. Make the next batch green. Then do a blue and yellow one too. It will look super fancy, but it won’t change the flavor if Chrissy eats some.”

  “You got it.”

  “We’ll need to tie up the tree,” Darby said. “If she tries to climb it, the tree won’t fall on her.”

  “No worries.” Mom went through the storage cupboard and removed aluminum pie tins. “Get the scissors, Vicky. You can cut out stars while you’re waiting on the popcorn. I used to tie up the tree when I had cats, since they always thought I had it just for them.”

  I shook my head, trying to remember those days. “What happened to your cats?”

  “I gave them away when Rick and I started dating. He didn’t like them.”

  “You should have given him away,” I muttered and went on a quest for a marking pen. I’d mark out the stars before I cut them from the aluminum pie tins.

  I got a long look from Mom before she said gently, “If I’d never married him, I wouldn’t have your sisters and brothers. I wouldn’t take a million dollars for any of you.”

  “You know that if I get a puppy for Christmas, Cathy is going to start harassing you for a kitten.” I carefully drew a star in the middle of the aluminum. “Once they figure out that nobody is allergic around here, the house will be a zoo.”

  “Well, that should keep Rick outside,” Mom said, “and no, you can’t bring a horse here.”

  I laughed. I didn’t tell her, but today I actually liked my mother.

  “Boom!” Chrissy yelled from the family room. “All go boom, Mama.”

  “Good job,” Mom called. “Make me another one, baby.”

  * * * *

  Friday, December 7th, 6:00 p.m.

  We’d finished up most of the decorations by dark. Darby made a giant chicken potpie for dinner. While it cooked, she started a batch of sugar cookies. She said that we’d cut them out, bake them, and frost them. We’d have some to eat and more to hang on the tree. During the afternoon, Mom taught me how to slice fruit and dry it in the oven. We’d hang the apples too. I told her if we added in carrots, Aladdin would definitely come home with me.

  Cathy and Linda were the fir
st kids home. They set the table for dinner, excited about bringing up the tree. Kevin and Lance charged inside, slamming the front door behind them. Mom gave them a stern look. “Do that again and you’ll be showing me you know how to enter this house like civilized people.”

  “We’ll be good,” Kevin said super-quick. “Sorry, Mom. Did Dad call? Is he coming?”

  “Afraid not,” Mom said. “You know how busy the tire store gets when it snows. You won’t see your father until next weekend.”

  Kevin and Lance high-fived each other. “All right! Can we go out and build a fort after dinner?” Kevin asked. “All of us are going to do it. We’ll throw snowballs across the street.”

  “Not tonight,” Mom said. “We’re putting up our tree.”

  “A real one,” Linda said, satisfaction in her voice. “It stinks pretty in the garage.”

  I choked hard on my laughter. What a great description. I hugged her on my way to collect Chrissy. “Come on, girls. Let’s go wash up for dinner.”

  “Aren’t you glad we’re home, Kevin?” Lance followed us. “I am. We got to play outside. You didn’t have to make us sandwiches or watch us. And Tessa didn’t yell at us for using the bathroom too much.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at the biggest blond boy who tagged behind us down the hall. Kevin finished stripping off his wet jacket. “Give me that and I’ll hang it in here to dry. How long have you been watching the little ones?”

  “Forever,” Kevin said. “You’re not at Dad’s, Vicky. And all Tessa has done for the last two months is puke. That’s why she gets all mad if people are in the potty too long. She’s not mean. She’s just sick, and she cries a lot now.”

  I stopped in front of the sink and turned on the water. Okay, so I hadn’t met Rick’s new girlfriend. Call me suspicious. If she was constantly ‘tossing her cookies’ as Mom always used to call it, combined with being overly emotional, Tessa might be pregnant. I wondered if I should say anything to Mom about it. No, I decided. I’d bring it up with Ingrid the next time I saw her. I had a counselor for a reason. She was supposed to help me with the questions nobody else wanted to answer.