Maybe Baby Lite

by ANDREA SMITH

  “I know, but when it comes to paying the attorney fees and all of that...”

  “We can request compensation for attorney fees as part of the settlement.”

  “I just really don’t want to mess with it all, okay?”

  “If that’s what you want,” he replied.

  “It’s what I want, Trey. You can take your portion of the attorney fees out of it and send me a check for the balance.”

  “Tylar, I wasn’t planning on taking any attorney fees.”

  “I don’t want to take advantage of you Trey.” I heard silence on the other end. He didn’t know how to respond.

  “Is there something upsetting you, Tylar?”

  Oh hell no, Trey! Nothing at all!

  “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 10% of that will be coming to you.”

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

  “Well then, okay. I'll send the communiqué to Mr. Sneed. We’ll 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 returned 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 in full swing in the U.S.; the next competition was September 22 and 23. It was the Fall Horse Trials at Malvern Park near Leesburg, Virginia. It was a two-day event that included dressage, show jumping, and cross country jumping events.

  Mark had entered Derringer and me in a musical freestyle event. It was set to a shortened version of Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way.” Mark eliminated the introduction portion of the song as the freestyle was going to be done with the lyrics left in, timing 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 when split in half.

  Mark wanted me to purchase a new riding outfit before the competition at Malvern. I ordered another pair of formal white full-seat breeches. 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 black; 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 shop 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 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.

  “Hey sweetie, how are you?”

  “I’m fine, 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, her hands moving expertly as she spoke. “So, how are things going between you and Trey?”

  “They’re not,” I replied, “he is barely around 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, wondering if Denise knew anything. I'd provided a nice segue for her.

  “Please!” she hooted, “I already told you that's 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 10 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. I paid the cashier on my way out, sending a generous tip to Denise. Mark stood waiting for me when I got outside, leaning up against his bright red truck. 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 dressage coat with your new hair color.”

  “Except that I'll have my hair back in that awful hairnet under my derby hat, remember?”

  “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'd like to braid Derringer’s mane for this competition. Is that okay with you?”

  “Just as long as you leave his forelock unbraided, I 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, “oooh, I like what you did with your hair, very nice.”

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

  “Just a sec,” she said, finishing up her task. She went to the safe, putting in the combination, and opened 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. You have a piece of mail also.” She handed me a business-size envelope from 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.

  “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.”

  “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 to sit on a bench on while I tore open the envelope. 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.” I wondered what the middle initial ‘M’ stood for? I'd never asked Trey about his middle name. His note was brief, and to the point:

  Tylar,

  Hope all is well. Here's the check for releasing liability of the handling of your trust from the firm of Findley, Morris & Sneed. Accepting this does not waive your right to criminally prosecute your mother should her whereabouts become known. I'll forward you the deed on your property in Radcliff once executed by the Recorder’s office. You'll need to contact the auditor’s office 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.

  Trey’s all-business tone was a slap in the face. If I thought that scene in the stable last month between us was humiliating, it was nothing compared to this. He treated me as a client. This was the final humiliation. If he'd shown anger at me it would've 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 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 sunrise to sundown working with Derringer. Mark was concerned at my obsessive practicing but 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. Ray and Charlie were driving some of the other horses up. We would be staying at a hotel near the park.

  We left Bristol at 6 a.m. the day before the competition. 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 dropped me at the hotel while he took Derringer on to the stables to get registered and settled in. He said he’d meet me later for some dinner.

  Once in my room, I unpacked my clothing and hung up my riding outfit. The early morning and long drive exhausted me and I promptly fell asleep across the king-sized bed. I was awakened by the sound of my hotel phone ringing. It was Mark on the phone; he was ready to go to dinner. After we ate, 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 15 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.

  We 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. We agreed to meet for breakfast in the hotel at 6:30 a.m.

  I fell into a deep, exhausted sleep and didn’t wake until my alarm clock buzzed at 5:15 a.m. I got dressed and applied some make-up. I brushed my hair back into a tight bun. Wow, 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 and my riding outfit was stunning. My navy blue derby actually looked a little saucy perched on my head. 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 arrived and grasped my hand.

  “Tylar, you look fantastic!”

  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.

  “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 then turned to me. “Tylar,” he said, “don’t worry. You're 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'll be fine.”

  We arrived at the park early. I went to Derringer immediately to brush and tack him up. I braided his mane while Mark checked on the horses scheduled for the Quadrille. I took advantage of this opportunity to have a one-on-one talk with Derringer as I braided. 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 last braid, tying the plait into a button with yarn. He looked magnificent.

  When it was time, Mark and I led Derringer to the arena, 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 being announced.

  “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 to 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 flawless. The collected gaits down the center line couldn't have been any better. Derringer had impressed everyone.

  Mark stood waiting at the arena gate, 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 post our scores.

  In freestyle competition, 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.

  After untacking Derringer and giving him water and a treat, I retired to my hotel room to rest. A few hours later 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 exclaimed, totally in shock.

  “Oh yes you did,” he confirmed, “You'll get your trophy at closing ceremonies tomorrow. You did an excellent job!”

  “Right back at you,” I said. “You did all the hard stuff with the choreography and getting me prepared,” I emphasized.

  “Tylar,” he said earnestly, “You're my success story. You had so little training when I met you. Don’t get me wrong, you could ride, but you had so little experience with technical dressage. I’m blown away at how quickly you learned. You’re a natural!”

  “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, want to get some dinner?”

  “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 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.

  My first place standing in the musical freestyle captured a $75,000 purse. Not too shabby. Mark and I were seated and awaiting the beginning of the awards presentation. People continued to file into the grandstands, mostly owners who'd not been present during the various competitions, but had special interest in the awards ceremony. Mark was reading the final results from the latest printout.

  “I wonder if Trey's staying for the awards ceremony.”

  “What?”

  “He was here for the competition, didn’t you know?”

  “No,” I stated flatly. “I didn’t know.”

  “Yeah, he was up in the grandstands with some woman. He came down after they announced that you and Derringer had taken first place to congratulate you, but you were back at your room.”

  I was numb. Why had Trey bothered to even show up? Why did Mark wait until now to mention it to me? Just as I turned to say something else to Mark, I caught a glimpse of Trey, coming into the arena with Charlotte on his arm. They made their way over to our section, taking seats in the same row, just a few seats down. Trey caught my eye as they were being seated, smiled, and gave me a brief wave. I nodded and tu
rned to Mark.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” I stated plainly.

  “What?” He turned to face me in his seat and noticed the Trey and Charlotte. He didn’t get what I was trying to convey.

  “See, there’s Trey now with the woman he was with earlier,” he said, nodding in their direction.

  No shit. I was really feeling nauseated, that part was true.

  “You look green,” Mark acknowledged.

  “Ahh, yeah,” I said my eyes wide. “I told you I felt ill.”

  “Can you make it through this presentation?”

  “I’ll give it my best,” I answered.

  The closing ceremonies started, with each event being detailed as to the participants and placement after completed. Finally, they got to the dressage category of freestyle musical. The top five scorers were announced starting from fifth place. My stomach roiled.

  My event was finally up. The master of ceremonies announced Derringer, owner Trey Sinclair, trainer Mark Montgomery, and talent Tylar Preston. We all proceeded up to the podium to accept the trophy along with the envelope that had a check for our take from this competition. Somehow it ended up that I was standing next to Trey as the presenter shook each of our hands, presenting the trophy and envelope to Trey while yesterday’s competition with Derringer and my performance was being shown on the backdrop screen complete with Lady Gaga’s music in the background. As we turned to leave, my stomach gave a final lurch. I threw up all over Trey’s shiny black shoes.

  CHAPTER 31

  In the weeks following the Malvern competition, Mark and I continued to work on another musical freestyle routine. We had to increase the technical level since taking first at Malvern Park. Our next competition was scheduled for October 13th in Nashville. The workouts with Derringer were exhausting, at least for me. Derringer was in his element.

  I hadn’t seen Trey since my vomiting faux pas during the awards ceremony. He'd called me the next day to see how I was feeling. I'd apologized to him repeatedly over the phone. He insisted it was no big deal, saying that he hadn’t liked those shoes anyway. His parents had returned to the manor that same weekend. I wondered how long it would be before Trey went back to Atlanta and stayed. His responsibilities were finished for now.