No Time for Horses

by Shannon Kennedy

  “Hey, the kids were really good. Kevin even called a cease-fire on the snowball wars when she arrived, and nobody hit her car with a single shot. Since you’re talking a bunch of five to ten-year-olds, I was happy.”

  “So was Darby,” Robin said. “She actually told the woman to get over herself and grow a brain when she freaked about us making popcorn balls.”

  “Yeah, can you imagine how crazy it would have been if I’d actually had the eight girls my mom said I could invite? That would have been a major meltdown.”

  “Eight girls?” Dani looked impressed. “Plus your brothers and sisters. Your mom must be trying out to be a hero.”

  “No, she’s just taking over the house and changing things since she doesn’t have to do what my stepdad says anymore.” The first bell rang. I swallowed the last of my latte and got up, grabbing my backpack. “So, will you tell your au-pair to pass out the word about the apartment? It’s six hundred a month without babysitting and four hundred if the person wants to work out part of the rent.”

  “That’s too cheap.” Dani walked beside us toward the English wing. “Let’s say it’s six and eight. You’re talking a one bedroom apartment and covered parking under the carport, right?”

  “Right,” I said. “My mom will be checking references too.”

  “No worries. To even be considered for a spot in the graduate program at the college, the students have to pass all the requirements that regular teachers do,” Dani said. “This is going to work out great, and it will get my au-pair off my back. She’s been nagging me to ask you.”

  “Well, you did, and we’re all going to be happy ever after,” Robin told us.

  I laughed at them. We may have been happy, but Adam didn’t look like he was. He and Mrs. Weaver stood up by her desk having a serious chat. Whatever she was telling him made his scowl deeper. When she paused for breath, he turned and stomped out of the classroom.

  She sighed and then came over to me. “How are things at home, Vicky?”

  “Getting better,” I said. “Why?”

  “Because it’s your turn to be featured in the school paper,” Mrs. Weaver told me. “It’s a puff piece. Whoever interviews you will ask about hobbies, college plans and sports.”

  “Why Vicky?” Robin asked. “Why now?”

  “It’s her turn,” Mrs. Weaver repeated. “We’ve done most of the student council and now we’re onto the Lincoln High class presidents. Do you have pictures of the horse that you’re training for your core project, Vicky?”

  “Several. I’ll bring you the best shots tomorrow,” I said. “Is Adam concerned about the feature?”

  “He may be editor this year, but I’m the advisor so he’ll do it the way I say,” Mrs. Weaver said. “It’s my way or the highway. Now, let’s get onto today’s write.”

  I glanced at the blank whiteboard and then said, “Is it a free-write? Do we get to pick what we want to say?”

  Faint red crept into the teacher’s face and then she nodded. “Yes. That’s what I had in mind. You’d better go write it down for me, Vicky, in case other people decide it’s a holiday.”

  “All right!” I put my backpack by my desk and headed up front to sort through the various dry-erase markers, so I could design the board just the way I liked.

  * * * *

  Tuesday, December 10th, 4:00 p.m.

  Latte in hand, I curled up in my favorite chair, ready to share my week with Ingrid. It didn’t take long to tell her about the days at home, the sleepover and how peaceful it was without Mom griping about Rick. “I learned stuff I didn’t know.”

  “Like what?” Ingrid asked. “I’m sure she shared that she was a foster kid.”

  “Well, sure. But, she never told me that she always felt like she had to please him to make him love her. Or how scared she was of being abandoned. Or getting kicked out. He totally used that stuff against her.”

  “Didn’t he use it against you too?” Ingrid asked. “How does learning about the shortcomings in your mother make you feel?”

  I sighed and stirred my coffee with the straws. “Well, on the one hand I do feel sorry for her. But, then I also want to yell at her and remind her that I’m a kid. I shouldn’t have to help raise her and make the world right. She ought to be doing that for me.”

  “Do you think it’s likely to happen?”

  “Not overnight,” I said, “but she’s trying harder to be a better mom. She told me that she’s not going to call and remind Rick to pick up the kids anymore. I didn’t know that she was. What’s up with the guy? How can he reject his own children like that?”

  “Think about what you said earlier. What if he wants your mom to do certain things? If he just avoids your brothers and sisters, what is her pattern? Didn’t he reject you?”

  “Yeah. He said it was for the money, but I don’t actually believe that anymore.” I sucked up some of my latte. “Am I paranoid if I figure he’s still trying to get at Mom?”

  “Not to me,” Ingrid said. “It sounds pretty smart.”

  “Well, that’s me then.”

  “And with that settled, let’s move on.” Ingrid picked up a file folder. “I have a list of household rules from John and Maura Gibson. Shall we discuss those?”

  “I got them too.” I put my cup on the table beside my chair and dug out the five pages that Robin gave me this morning. “They’re a fun pair, but I’m not taking up running cross-country to find time to breathe.”

  “How would you have time?” Ingrid asked. “You’re already cheerleading and involved in student government, the honor roll, and horseback riding. They do want you to take karate and they’re willing to pay for classes.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “They seem to think that all girls need to know how to defend themselves.”

  “Robin doesn’t do karate,” I said.

  “Not now, but I understand that she and her sister both took it for three years when they were in middle school. Both of them have their black belts.”

  I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “Oh my Gawd! I hate it when you’re right. I’d forgotten all about that. Okay, let’s get started.”

  I scanned the first page. It basically laid out all our names, the address of the Gibson house, phone numbers, and the date. After that, the contract detailed responsibilities in the house. Most had to do with the chores that everyone else did. If I moved in, I was supposed to help with the supper dishes two nights a week, cook one meal a week, take out the garbage, and help feed the dogs every night. If I helped with the livestock down in the barns, I’d have to split the chore money with Jack and Robin.

  “Whoa, did you see this, Ingrid? They pay for grades. I can clean up since I’m already on the Headmaster’s List. Fifty bucks for each A, plus there are bonuses for extracurricular activities.”

  “What do you think about the allowance?” Ingrid asked.

  “Well, it explains how Robin always brings me a latte every day,” I said. “She has some major opportunities to make money.”

  Ingrid laughed, and I went onto the next page. It detailed other things I had to do, such as keeping my bedroom and the bathroom clean. I had to do my own laundry. Robin would change the sheets on my bed once a week, but if I wanted it done more often, that was my responsibility. No sleepovers during the week, unless it was a school break. No dates on weeknights, and Sundays counted as those. Fridays and Saturdays, I had to be home no later than midnight. John and Maura had to approve of whoever I dated. And Jack’s room was definitely off-limits!

  “No drugs, alcohol, or wild parties,” Ingrid read, arching a brow. “What do you think?”

  “That you’d have to be crazy to even try that crap,” I said. “John and Maura are total helicopter parents. One of them is always around, so how could you arrange a party?”

  “What would your mother say about these rules?”

  I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t think she would even include them in her repertoire. First off, the household
chores are all mine. If I only did the dishes twice a week, I’d have to buy a truckload of paper plates and plastic silverware. And if I only cooked one day, everyone would starve.”

  “What about the garbage?”

  “Oh, I make Kevin take that out. Cathy always snivels when she has to help him, so she gets to do all the recycling. The twins have gotten pretty good at unloading the dishwasher.”

  “What else do you notice?”

  “They must buy the groceries,” I said. “That’s not included anywhere in the rules.”

  “What about the bills? Does it say anything about money management or their finances?”

  I went back through the five pages, reading it line by line. She was right. It didn’t say a thing about the mortgage or turning off all the lights in empty rooms to save electricity or not calling long distance on the landline. “Wow, more stuff that kids don’t need to worry their little heads about, huh?”

  “How do you feel about not being in charge of all the details, Vicky?”

  I had to think about it. Okay, so my mom did drop a lot on my shoulders, but being out of the loop bothered me too. “Can’t there be a happy medium, Ingrid? I like knowing what’s going on around the house and having my mom talk to me like I’m an equal. She let me have a pretty big sleepover on Sunday night. Five other girls and she said I could build up to eight guests. It was a blast.”

  “Who cleaned up afterwards?”

  “I did, of course. It was my party.” I went back and read the fine print in the rules. “Well, no wonder Maura limits the number of guests to four. She does the clean-up afterwards. That sucks. Next time I stay over, I’ve got to do more. It’s only fair.”

  We talked our way through all the rules. Ingrid didn’t say that I actually had a pretty good deal at my mom’s. Okay, it had its downside, but it also had some major points too. Maybe I didn’t have any pets, but we were rid of Rick and things would continue to change for the better. I knew it.

  Tom drove me home after the group meeting. I’d shared the story of my sleepover, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when he brought it up. I still was. “So, what’s the big deal about a slumber party?”

  “I don’t care about that.” He shrugged one shoulder, keeping most of his attention on the road. “Next time you’re sending up a crew to Shamrock Stable, call me. I’ll go.”

  “I didn’t think you knew anything about horses or even liked them.”

  “I don’t know if I like them or not,” Tom said. “I haven’t been formally introduced, but I can still shovel out stalls if it means Sierra gets a break.”

  “Really?” I eyed him when he parked his car in front of my house. “She couldn’t make it to group tonight because her mom hates driving downhill in the snow. I think you better come ride with me on Sunday.”

  “And how is Jack going to feel about that?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “I’ll tell him tomorrow. If you want Sierra to notice you, then you’ve got to learn to ride. And you can’t do it on Jack’s horse. Nitro only has two speeds, fast and faster.”

  “I thought if you pulled back on the reins, the horse stopped.”

  “Not Nitro. He’s a former racehorse. If you go for contact, he adds on the speed. No, you want a horse with a brain, so I’ll teach you to ride. Bring lots of long, skinny carrots on Sunday.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Wednesday, December 11th, 3:15 p.m.

  We were on the way up to Shamrock Stable in Jack’s pickup. There was still some scattered snow on the sidewalks and streets, but he’d swung through the Co-Op and picked up ten bags of grain. The added weight meant more stability for the rear of the rig. My phone went off in my purse. There was a big sigh from Robin and then she dug out my cell, handing it over.

  “How much do you want to bet it is Daddy Dearest, bailing on his kids again?” Robin asked. “Want me to answer and tell him where to go?”

  “I’m not betting anything.” I looked at the screen then answered. “Hello, Rick. What’s the emergency now?”

  “People still need snow tires, and the store’s swamped,” Rick said.

  “Of course it is,” I said.

  “I can’t get the kids.”

  “Nobody expected you.”

  Absolute, utter silence and then Rick said, “I won’t be there today.”

  “We know that,” I repeated. “You’re at the store. You have a new girlfriend. She’s pregnant, and you’ll have new children to replace the ones you don’t want anymore. We got it, Rick.”

  “How did you know about Tessa?”

  “Why wouldn’t I know?” I asked. “My mom was pregnant at least five times in the past ten years, not counting when she thought she was and then wasn’t. Your girlfriend is constantly puking her guts out. How long did you think it’d take us to notice? If she had a brain, she’d get a clue that’s all you wanted, a new brood mare.”

  Sudden silence that almost deafened me and he was gone. “Oops,” I said. “Ricky went bye-bye.”

  “I have a feeling this is permanent,” Robin told me. “He won’t be calling you again.”

  “I was just starting to enjoy picking on him.” I heaved a sigh. “I’ll have to find a new hobby.”

  “I have faith in you,” Jack told me. “I’m sure you’ll have one before tomorrow.”

  “If not, then on Sunday,” I said. “Tom wants to take riding lessons so he can impress Sierra.”

  “No way,” Robin said. “You aren’t teaching him, are you?”

  “Of course, I am.” I snuggled closer to Jack. “I believe in ‘twue wuv’ as they say in The Princess Bride. The least I can do is help Tom learn how to ride a white horse so he can save Sierra’s day.”

  “I don’t think they have any white horses at Shamrock.” Robin giggled. “We’ll have to find him a gray charger.”

  “Works for me.”

  We signed in at the office and then headed for the barns. Jack unloaded the grain in the feedroom for Rocky before he came down to watch me work Aladdin. He couldn’t help since the bay Arab had gender issues and wanted to stomp every guy he saw. Jack got enough of that crap from Robin’s rescue horse. He didn’t need it when I was training.

  Once I’d groomed, saddled, and bridled him, I brought Aladdin out to the indoor arena. I started with longeing then went onto long-line driving. He was back to his focused self, listening and doing what I said when I said it. Walk, trot, halt, back, reverse, and do it again. We continued onto patterns, figure-eights, serpentines, circles. I returned to transitions. Rocky arrived and sat on the bleachers, talking to Jack while I took Aladdin through his gaits again.

  When I finished, I unhooked the long lines and switched over to the longe rope. Rocky left the benches and came into the ring. “Okay, I want you to try riding him.”

  “What? Sierra’s not here to pony him.”

  “No, she’s not. I’ve been riding him, and we’ve gotten to the point where he works on his own. Check your stirrups, and I’ll give you a leg up.”

  “Okay.” I did, and she did. Once I sat deep in the English saddle, I scooped up my stirrups. I collected on the reins, ready to ride him forward around the arena. “Let’s go.”

  “Let’s not.” Rocky picked up the longe line. “I want some added brakes on him. You ride and I’ll keep the control. When I think you’re ready, you can do it solo.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I rode him at a walk, then a trot on the line. He listened to everything I said, ears flicking. He was collected, on the bit, and a credit to my teaching. I praised him, not just with my voice but also by petting his brown neck. He totally got into that. When Robin and Sierra showed up with Prince Charming and Summertime, Rocky turned Aladdin loose to follow them around the arena. He could do everything the big boys did. Oh yeah, he was amazing!

  At the end of class, he stood in the center by Prince Charming while Sierra cantered Summertime. No problems, no worries. I dismounted and led him back to his stall when
they put away the other horses. Rocky followed us.

  “What do you think of him?” I asked.

  “That you’ve earned your bonus,” Rocky said.

  “Really?” I unbuckled the billets on the saddle, allowing the girth to drop. “I fell off him.”

  “Join the club,” Rocky told me. “That wasn’t your first fall, and if you actually go into this business, it won’t be the last.”

  “I’m going into it,” I said. “No doubt about it.”

  “All right. When you finish with him, come up to the office. You need to fill out your time sheet so I can pay you on the fifteenth.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll be there.”

  * * * *

  Wednesday, December 11th, 6:15 p.m.

  There was a small Ford sedan in the driveway when I got home. Jack and I kissed twice before a tall, skinny girl dressed in Goth gear came out and gave us the evil eye when she got into her car. I kissed Jack again then slid out of the truck. I headed into the garage where Mom waited. “What’s going on?”

  “You tell me,” Mom said. “That’s the third person who came to see the apartment today.”

  “Wow, Dani’s au-pair came through.” I proceeded to tell my mother all about the deal we discussed. She listened, sighed, and then tugged on my braid. I pulled away. “What?”

  “Next time, call and tell me so I’m up on the deal too. I have references to check now.” Mom pushed the button and the garage door slid closed. “Will you finish putting dinner on the table? Did Rick call you? I didn’t pick up when he left a message that he wasn’t getting the kids.”

  “When did he call you?” I asked. “He got me on the way to the barn.”

  “How strange. He called here about noon.”

  “Oh well,” I shrugged. “The guy’s a major jerk.”

  Mom laughed and put her arm around my shoulders. “If I ever decide to date again, I’ll let you pick the guy.”

  “Deal,” I said.

  “Meantime, you had a message from some girl. She wants you to call her back tonight about a story in the paper.”