The Road Home

by Catherine Hapka

Kim raised her eyebrows. “Ooh, a mystery!” she said jokingly.

  “It really is,” Nina insisted. “I mean, she didn’t seem sick at all when I saw her yesterday at the barn. And she didn’t say anything then about being out.” She blinked. “Although she did get a weird call from her parents while we were grooming.”

  “Weird how?”

  Nina shrugged, trying to remember exactly what Leah had said about the call. “Her parents insisted she come home right away. She wasn’t sure why. Do you think that might have something to do with her being absent today?”

  Kim laughed again. “I think you’ve been watching too many spy movies with your dad, that’s what I think,” she said. “Gabe always did love a good conspiracy.”

  Nina laughed weakly, but she couldn’t help feeling vaguely troubled. “It just seems strange, that’s all. Even if she suddenly came down with a cold or something, why wouldn’t Leah at least text me back?”

  “If she’s not feeling well, she’s probably not thinking about that right now,” Kim said.

  “You’re right, I guess.” Nina started sweeping again. “Thanks. I just really want to make sure she can come. Then all I have to do is figure out who to invite for the third ticket.”

  “I’m sure you’ll come up with someone,” Kim said. “I’ve never seen a girl with so many friends. Real and imaginary.” She winked again.

  Nina stuck out her tongue at her cousin. “Speaking of my imaginary friends, thanks for that, too.”

  “For what?”

  “You know—what you said last night.” Nina sighed. “After you left I realized I probably was bragging a little too much when I told them about the Expo. At least I’m guessing that’s got to be why they didn’t say much about it.”

  “Hmm.” Kim glanced at her, looking thoughtful. “Online communication can be tricky.”

  “Tell me about it.” Nina shook her head. “I always say that the Pony Posters are just as much real friends as everyone here in New Orleans. And that’s true.” She swept a stray scrap of paper toward the little pile of debris the two of them were forming in the center of the room. “But our friendship can be a little different sometimes, since we communicate mostly through the written word.”

  Kim nodded, stepping over to the closet and pulling out a dustpan. “I hear you.”

  “Anyway, it’s hard sometimes.” Nina started sweeping the debris pile toward the dustpan Kim was holding. “But don’t get me wrong—they’re totally worth it, of course. I wouldn’t trade my Pony Post friends for the world.” She laughed. “Sometimes I just wish I could move them all here to New Orleans!”

  Kim chuckled. “That would be fun.”

  “Yeah.” Nina pictured it for a second, smiling at the thought of trail riding through Audubon Park with Haley, Brooke, and Maddie. It would be a parade of Chincoteague ponies! “It would be awesome to have them here where I could see them every day in person.” She shrugged. “Then again, if they lived here, I wouldn’t get to hear all their cool stories about the places they live and the different stuff they do with their ponies.”

  “True,” Kim agreed. “Like Gramma Rose always says, every dark cloud has a silver lining. Now come on, let’s finish up and get out of here, girl. A little bird told me your dad might be making corn bread tonight.”

  The intoxicating scent of fresh corn bread filled the house when Nina and Kim entered a short while later. Nina’s father glanced up from the oven when they looked in. Even though he worked full time as a successful attorney and part time as an amateur musician in a jazz band, he still found time to indulge in his love for cooking at least a few times per week.

  “You’re just in time!” he said. “Should be ready to eat in ten.”

  “Excellent.” Kim smacked her lips. “I’ll set the table.” She headed over toward the plate cabinet, pausing to pat the cats, who were camped out on the bench by the refrigerator.

  “Be back to help after I change clothes,” Nina promised.

  Her father nodded, swiping the sweat off his brow with a dishrag. “Grab your mother on your way back,” he said. “She’s in the studio.”

  It only took Nina a minute to change out of her leotard. She pulled on shorts and a tank top, and then headed down the hall to her mother’s art studio.

  Nina’s mother was bent over a lump of clay, but she looked up when Nina came in. “Is the food ready?” she asked. “I can smell it all the way back here.”

  Nina sniffed the air, realizing she was right. Normally the studio smelled of wet clay, cleaning supplies, and a touch of her mother’s favorite gardenia-scented cologne. But today the smell of corn bread was overpowering even here at the very back of the house.

  “Dad said it’s almost ready,” Nina said.

  “Good. I’ll put this clay away and be right there.”

  Nina nodded and headed back out into the hall. She started toward the kitchen, but paused by the open door to her room. Her laptop was on her bed, and despite her grumbling stomach, she couldn’t resist going in and flipping it open. Kim wouldn’t mind setting the table by herself, and Nina hadn’t checked in with the Pony Post all day. . . .

  Soon she was logged in and scanning the latest entries.

  [BROOKE] Hi, all! Can’t ride today, it’s raining here, boo! So you should all tell me stories about yr ponies so I feel better!!

  [HALEY] Hi, Brooke! Just heading out for a cross-country lesson at my trainer’s place. I’ll be sure to write u all about it later! Hope u can hold out until then, lol!

  [MADDIE] Sounds cool, Hales! We all might have to live thru yr riding today, ha! I have soccer and won’t have time to go to the barn. And I think today is Nina’s dance class, right, N? So she probably won’t ride today either. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow, right?

  Nina chewed her lower lip. It was hard not to notice that none of her friends had mentioned the Expo at all. Had she really been that annoying when she’d told them about it?

  Just then she heard her father calling her name. “Coming!” Nina hollered back. Then she typed quickly:

  [NINA] Only have a sec! But ya, dance tonight, no riding. Can’t wait to hear about your ride tho, Haley, be sure to fill us in asap! Ttyl, gtg!

  She scanned the words she’d just typed, feeling a little strange. Normally she would have told them about Leah’s odd disappearing act and her worries about finding the best person to present with that third Expo ticket. But if they didn’t want to talk about it, she wasn’t going to force the issue. At least not yet.

  I just hope they get over it by the time the Expo gets here, she thought as she logged off and headed for the kitchen. Because going to the Expo won’t even be as much fun if I can’t share it with three of my best friends afterward!

  CHAPTER

  4

  “YOU’RE HERE!” NINA blurted out when she turned the corner toward her locker on Friday morning and saw Leah standing there talking to Trinity. “Wow, Leah, I was starting to think you’d transferred schools or something.”

  Leah shot her a sour look. “Sorry I didn’t alert the media,” she muttered. “I was sick, okay?”

  “Okay.” Nina blinked at her. Leah could be prickly sometimes, but she seemed extra cranky today. Then again, she’d never dealt that well with pain or illness. Back in fourth grade she’d sprained her ankle playing kickball, and had complained nonstop about it for at least three months.

  “Glad you’re back, dude,” Trinity told Leah. “Want to look at the math homework?”

  “That’s okay, I’ll get it later.” Leah slammed her locker shut and slung her purse over her shoulder. “I have to hit the bathroom. See you.”

  Nina opened her mouth to say something, but Leah was already disappearing around the corner. She shrugged and glanced at Trinity. “So what was wrong with her, anyway?”

  “She didn’t really say.” Trinity spun the combination on her own locker. “She didn’t have much to say at all, actually.”

  “Maybe she’s still not feeli
ng well.” Nina bit her lip, glancing in the direction her friend had disappeared. “I need to talk to her about something, though. See you in homeroom, okay?”

  She hurried to the nearest girls’ bathroom. Leah was inside, staring at herself in the cracked, cloudy old mirror over the twin pedestal sinks.

  “Hi,” Nina said. “You ran off so fast I didn’t get to ask you—did you talk to your parents about the Expo?”

  Leah met her gaze in the mirror for a second, then looked away. Her expression was frosty. “Actually, I’ve had other things on my mind. Like being sick. So lay off, okay?”

  Nina took a step back, startled by the testiness in Leah’s voice. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize you were that sick.”

  Leah turned and pushed past her, not meeting her gaze. “Why else would I be out for two whole days? Duh, Nina, use your brain for a change.”

  With that, she slammed through the door and stormed off, leaving Nina standing there with her mouth hanging open.

  “So you never got to talk to her about the Expo?” Jordan shot a look down the stable aisle. She and Nina were tacking up their ponies for their Saturday-morning lesson.

  “I tried.” Nina adjusted Breezy’s girth. “She just kept blowing me off. And she didn’t answer my text last night, either.”

  “And now she’s late for our lesson.” Jordan checked her watch. “We’d better get moving, or Miss Adaline will be mad.”

  Ten minutes later, Nina and Jordan were mounted and walking their ponies around the ring to warm up. Miss Adaline was leaning against the fence, periodically glancing toward the entrance to the barn to look for Leah.

  “Where is that girl?” she exclaimed at last. “We’re going to have to start without her if she doesn’t get her behind on a horse soon. I have lessons to teach after this and I don’t want to be running late the whole day long because Leah decided to sleep in.”

  Nina winced. “She’s probably just a little behind. She was sick this week,” she told the instructor, allowing Breezy to drift to a halt.

  Miss Adaline pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “Well, let’s see if she’s planning to grace us with her presence today.”

  As Miss Adaline made her call, Nina traded a worried look with Jordan, who had stopped Freckles nearby. Where was Leah? She might have her quirks, but before now she’d always been on time for lessons.

  “Maybe she’s sick again,” Jordan murmured. “What did she have, anyway?”

  “I don’t know.” Nina shook her head. “She didn’t say.”

  “Huh?” Jordan looked perplexed. “What do you mean, she didn’t say? Didn’t you talk to her at all?”

  “I tried.” Nina shrugged. “She wasn’t exactly in a superchatty mood.”

  A moment later, Miss Adaline hung up with a frown. “No answer,” she told Nina and Jordan. “That’s it, then. Let’s start without her. If she shows up, we’ll figure out what to do with her.” She smiled and rubbed her hands together. “Two or three laps at rising trot without stirrups might remind her to be more prompt. . . .”

  Nina laughed, then urged Breezy into a walk. When Miss Adaline called for a trot, Nina squeezed both legs against the pony’s sides. A few strides ahead, Freckles surged into a trot. But Breezy just kept walking.

  “Trot, boy,” Nina said, squeezing again, then adding a little kick with her heels. “Trrrrot!”

  Finally the pony lumbered into a slow trot. Miss Adaline was watching.

  “He looks a bit sluggish today,” she called. “You’ll have to be stronger with your aids.”

  Nina nodded, already out of breath from squeezing with every stride to keep her pony from slowing down again. “So much for all that energy from the other day. I guess his spring fever passed already.”

  She couldn’t help being a little disappointed by that. This was her first chance to ride since that fabulous lesson on Tuesday afternoon, and she’d been hoping that Breezy would be equally lively. But it seemed he was back to his usual lazy self—even worse than usual, if anything.

  “Just keep after him,” Miss Adaline said. “He might perk up as we go along.”

  But Breezy remained lethargic throughout the ride, barely managing to heave himself over the jumps and dropping from a canter or trot to a walk or halt anytime Nina stopped pushing him for more than a second.

  By the time she dismounted and ran up her stirrups, Nina was feeling a little worried. “Do you think he’s okay?” she asked Miss Adaline, who was helping Jordan loosen Freckles’s girth nearby. “It’s kind of hot today. Maybe he’s coming down with something.”

  “I doubt it.” The riding instructor cast a critical eye over the pony, who was standing quietly with his head hanging low. “But he does look kind of blah, doesn’t he? Let’s check his vitals—just in case.”

  Nina led the pony inside and untacked him while Miss Adaline fetched a thermometer and a stethoscope from the tack room. But when the instructor checked his temperature and heart rate, she declared him well within normal bounds.

  “Guess he was just feeling pokey today,” she said, giving Breezy a pat. “Or maybe he overdid it so much on Tuesday that he’s still a little tired or sore. We’ll check him again tomorrow, but I wouldn’t worry about it.” She smiled at Nina. “You just have a lazy pony, that’s all.”

  Nina was relieved. She fed the pony a chunk of carrot, which he gobbled eagerly. Then she grabbed a brush and went to work on the mark her saddle had left on Breezy’s spotted coat.

  Jordan was combing Freckles’s mane in the next set of cross-ties. She glanced over at Nina as Miss Adaline hurried off.

  “I guess Breezy isn’t sick,” she said. “I was afraid he’d caught whatever mystery illness Leah had.”

  Nina chuckled, then shook her head. “I can’t believe Leah just ditched our lesson.” She dropped her brush in her grooming tote, then fished her phone out of her pocket. “Maybe I’d better check on her, see what’s up.”

  She sent Leah a text, then waited a moment, staring at her phone in case there was an immediate reply. But none came, so she stuck the phone back in her pocket.

  “Nothing?” Jordan peered at her over Freckles’s back.

  “Nope, not yet.” Nina sighed. “I wonder what’s wrong.”

  “Maybe she lost her brand-new fancy phone and her parents grounded her,” Jordan said with a laugh. “That would explain why she’s not texting you back. And why she’s so cranky, too.”

  Nina smiled weakly. Jordan didn’t seem too worried, but she hadn’t known their lesson-mate as long as Nina had. It just wasn’t like Leah to pull a no-show for something she loved as much as she loved riding.

  “I hope she’s not sick again,” Nina murmured. Her eyes widened as a new thought occurred to her. “Especially not really sick, if you know what I mean.”

  “What, like with a disease or something?” Jordan wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. “Do you think she might be?”

  Uh-oh. Jordan was a worrier by nature. Nina didn’t want her to overreact and start telling everyone that Leah had malaria or polio or the black plague or something. “Probably not,” she assured Jordan quickly. She bent down and fished a hoof pick out of her tote. “Anyway, we definitely shouldn’t borrow trouble, like my gramma always says. I’m sure Leah will be in touch when she feels like it.”

  “Sorry you can’t come to the show tonight, Boo.” Nina’s father gave a tug on her ponytail. “No minors allowed in this club.”

  “It’s okay.” Nina tried to attend as many of her father’s band’s performances as she could. But sometimes, like tonight, they had gigs at bars or clubs where all patrons had to be at least twenty-one years old. Besides that, it was Sunday, so Nina had to get up early for school the next day.

  “Dinner’s in the fridge.” Her father went to the mirror over the console table to straighten his tie. “There’s leftover gumbo, or you can make yourself a sandwich with that chicken from Friday.”

  Nina nodded, glad that her parents tr
usted her to stay home alone when they went out, even on weekends when the family’s long-time maid, Delphine, was off. Some of her friends weren’t so lucky, and a few even still had babysitters come over when their parents went out.

  She glanced toward the hallway at the sound of high heels click-clacking on the tile floor. Her mother had just emerged, looking beautiful in a slinky emerald-green dress and glittery sandals. Both cats were trailing along behind her, probably hoping to rub some of their fur off on her outfit.

  Nina let out a wolf whistle. “Wow, you guys are going to be the best-looking couple there,” she exclaimed.

  Her father smiled and stepped over to put an arm around his wife. “You really think so?”

  “The best-looking couple over sixty, anyway,” Nina amended, straight-faced.

  Her mother laughed, then waggled a finger at Nina. “Just for that, you’re grounded, young lady,” she joked. “Seriously, don’t stay up too late, okay? It’s a school night.”

  “I know, I know.” Nina picked up her father’s trumpet case and handed it to him. “And I’m not allowed to eat candy and soda for dinner, either.”

  Soon her parents were on their way. Nina fed the cats, but she’d stopped at her favorite coffee house for a snack on the way home from the barn, so she wasn’t hungry yet. She headed to her room, where she grabbed her laptop and then continued out to the tiny walled garden behind the house.

  She settled herself in one of the cast-iron patio chairs and logged on to the Pony Post. None of the others had posted since the last time she’d checked in, so she opened a new text box and started to type.

  [NINA] Hi, all! Went to the barn this afternoon like I told you I might. B looked fine so I saddled up for a quick trail ride. But as soon as we got going, I could tell he was feeling lazy again. I asked him to trot, and he barely managed three strides before he dropped back to a walk again. It was like riding molasses!

  She posted that much, then scrolled back to read it over, feeling worried anew as she thought back over the day’s ride. Breezy was always lazy, but these past two rides had been way beyond that. Nobody at the barn seemed to think there was anything wrong with him, but Nina knew her Pony Post friends would understand her concern.