Learning to Fall

by Anne Clermont

  “Sera’s here?” I could feel all blood drain away. “She can’t possibly be ready for a meter fifty class!” I scanned the area, as if expecting her to be right in front of me.

  “Thought I should warn you before you saw for yourself.”

  We walked along in silence toward the indoor arena to watch the riders finish up their first round. I heard the crowd cheer for the rider, wondering if it was Vivian.

  As Jett and I walked back into the arena for the jump-off, the crowd cheered. Chris stood on the sidelines watching. He waved when he saw me. He’d gone first, and although I hadn’t seen his round, Jason had told me he’d gone clear, but was currently in second. I looked around for Vivian and Corinne, but they were nowhere in sight. As I circled the arena, Helena and Mai’s Go Brynn sign waved at me from the stands.

  I was the third rider of fifteen. The turns were sharper, the jumps higher. I felt like I was going to throw up. I tried to focus, but I couldn’t get there—wherever there was.

  I had no choice though. I had to finish this round, no matter how I scored.

  “Let’s do this, buddy.” Jett’s one ear turned toward me, the other stayed pointed straight ahead. He gave a small buck, as if in acknowledgement. I lifted my shoulders, squeezed with my calf, and we were off, following the only two sets of horse tracks in the sand before us. We went fast, but I still couldn’t quiet my mind, couldn’t align myself the way Jason had wanted me to, couldn’t forget how scared I was of losing.

  And then, at jump number four, the sunflower jump, everything melted away. It was only Jett and me. No crowd. No announcer. No judge. Just us—flying as one. And even before we finished, I knew we’d gone clear.

  I clicked end on my cell phone. I had called Mom to tell her about my day, but all I got was her voice mail. I wanted to tell her the good news but not by leaving a message.

  The boutique, hacienda-style hotel where we stayed in Del Mar overlooked the ocean, and I was lucky enough to have a view. The room was a surprise from Aunt Julia, and I only wished Mom could be here to see it.

  “You need a good night’s rest if you’re going to win,” Aunt Julia had said before I left for Del Mar. I was used to staying at the budget hotels near the freeway when I went to shows with Dad. I’d never experienced such luxury. I pulled the French doors wide open and walked onto the small balcony. The sun had already set, only a hint of red and purple reflected in the clouds above the horizon. A breeze brushed my bare arms, the silk of my dress dancing against my legs. I breathed in the heady smell of jasmine mixed with the mellow lavender blooming in earthen pots draped over the edge of the balcony.

  I gazed up at the brightest star and thought back to Dad and the last show we were at together. We had just finished taking care of the horses, putting on blankets, refilling waters, picking out the stalls. The place was deserted, save for a few grooms checking on horses. Dad was relaxed after showing, and he leaned against an arena fence and stared up at the sapphire sky. He told me that the particles of energy that made up stars also made up all of us—all living things. Each one of us had bits of stardust in our soul, and the good souls sparkled brighter than the rest. He took my hand and told me that my eyes were the gateway to my own star out in the universe.

  “Which one is yours, Dad?” I whispered now. Nothing but the crashing waves below responded.

  A barrage of noise came from the hallway, then knocking at my door. “Brynn!” Chris was at the door, ready for the West Coast League’s annual banquet and awards ceremony.

  I’d won second place in the Del Mar Classic, and the night seemed filled with possibilities. I couldn’t help but skip toward the door. As I neared, the knocking turned to banging and laughter. Chris and two girls spilled into my room. Apparently the party had already started.

  Irritation flooded me.

  Chris poured champagne into a glass. “Have a drink!”

  “Can we wait until dinner? I’m famished.”

  The girls, Star and Madison, were the same groupies that had latched on to our party at Thermal. Madison, the brunette, plopped unceremoniously onto the bed; Star, the blonde, looked through my things on the desk. I walked over, shut my laptop, and moved my notebook and purse aside. Star smiled, as if it was acceptable to rifle through other people’s belongings.

  “Oh, come on! You beat me and thirty-four other riders. Surely you can have a drink to celebrate.” Chris held out the champagne flute toward me, golden liquid spilling over the side. He’d gotten fourth.

  Is this what it was about? Me beating him tonight? Sighing, I accepted.

  “To Brynn! An up-and-coming rider on her way to Spruce Meadows! And then the Gold Cup!” Chris raised the bottle above his head, then took a swig straight from it.

  He pulled me into an embrace. His arm squeezed too tight, and I leaned my head away from his as he gripped my belly and hips against him. “Who would have thought you were so sly, not sharing your secrets,” he whispered into my ear, then he laughed and winked. “So young, so gorgeous, so talented!” He leaned in and kissed my mouth. I pushed him away. I had tried to help him. Suddenly I wasn’t sure I even wanted to spend the evening with him.

  “Madison, Star, you have a lot to learn from Brynn here,” he said to them. The girls giggled.

  “Shall we go to dinner?” I picked up my purse.

  “Yes ma’am! You heard Brynn. Girls, let’s go!” Chris set the empty champagne bottle on the table, and I caught the glimpse he’d given Madison’s pushed-up cleavage as she passed by him. I shut the balcony doors, holding back the urge to slam them.

  On our way down to the banquet I scrutinized our reflections in the mirrors of the elevator. My face stern and drawn, the others giddy and drunk. I felt underdressed in my painted silk summer dress, light blue blending with amber and tea rose, hues of the Del Mar sky at sunset. I’d chosen to accessorize only with simple gold hoop earrings and the gold heart pendant from my dad. Now I regretted my choice.

  Star and Madison wore couture black evening dresses that showed off way too much cleavage in the front and too much skin in the plunging low backs—the exact reason Chris had allowed them to come along, no doubt. Of course they were probably the newest spring designs, the way they screamed fancy labels and high price tags. Probably purchased on Rodeo Drive prior to coming to Del Mar. Diamonds sparkled at the girls’ ears and throats, accentuating their slim necks and perfectly formed chins and cheekbones. Even though I was older than them, I felt young and incompetent, naïve and completely out of place.

  We entered the foyer and headed toward the main dining room. A large banner, proclaiming the Del Mar Show Grounds, hung on the wall to the left. Tables were adorned with white cloth, silver candles flickering atop horse-shaped candelabra. Pewter horse-bit holders girdled the apricot-colored napkins. The restaurant boasted grand views of the Pacific framed by floor-to-ceiling windows, and I had to stop to take in the grandeur. I might as well have stepped into a palace somewhere in the south of France.

  I looped my arm through Chris’s, walking toward the host who eyed the giggling girls behind us. I wondered how long it would take to lose them. We followed the host’s tuxedoed back to our table in the center of the room. To the left of the podium, awards and trophies graced a black-clothed table. Jason, Derek, and our barn’s small group of clients weren’t there yet.

  The host pulled out a royal blue velvet chair for me. He proceeded to place the napkin in my lap, like a bullfighter, swift yet light.

  “Time for a drink. Where’s the bar?” Chris stood, before he’d even fully sat. His move jostled the table.

  The host raised a brow, but gestured toward the back of the room. “The cash bar is right over there, sir. Wine is on the table.”

  Chris didn’t even ask what I wanted as he walked away.

  “Thank you,” I said to the host. He nodded again, leaving me alone. Whether he pitied me or not, he didn’t show, his face a mask of graciousness.

  I ran my finger over the gold-embos
sed letters of my name on the card in front of me. Brynn Seymour. Brynn Seymour, second place winner of the $100,000 Del Mar Classic. Brynn Seymour, confused and lost. Brynn Seymour, here with a man who—what? What was the plan for us? What did I even want anymore?

  Star and Madison lounged at the bar, long legs entwined in bar stools, sandal straps and tanned skin peeking out. At least five guys surrounded them now, drinking shots with Chris, angling to get close to the girls. I wished the bartender would card them, but I doubted he would, this being a private event.

  The next half hour was the longest of my life. I was out of my comfort zone as people kept coming up to congratulate me, many of whom I’d never met. I wished Derek and Jason and Helena—or even Corinne—were here with me. I scanned the crowd, but no one from Redwood Grove Stables had arrived yet.

  I poured myself a glass of wine from the bottle on the table, finishing it more quickly than I expected. I stood and walked over to the windows, a painted mural overlooking the ocean. The sky had turned a black garnet, my reflection staring back at me. My face seemed younger, calmer than the turmoil of emotions going on inside. I was surprised at the wide eyes staring back at me. This wasn’t me, just some false representation of who I was.

  I turned to survey the room one more time. Corinne stood across the room with Vivian’s other clients. As if sensing my stare, she turned toward me, smiled and raised her glass in a small gesture. I smiled and nodded back, even as her stabbing words replayed themselves in my mind: lack of professionalism, more experience, it’s not personal. I grabbed another glass of wine from a passing waiter’s tray.

  Katherine, the head of the West Coast League, tapped the microphone at the podium. “Everyone, please have a seat!” I glanced toward the bar. Not surprisingly Chris was still drinking, laughing louder than anyone else in the room.

  I made my way back to the table. I hadn’t had a chance to check who else was seated with us, trying to recall who the top eight riders in tonight’s Grand Prix were. We were all seated together. Just as I sat down, Jason entered. I began to rise to wave him over, but noticed his arm around Mai, who looked stunning in a red satin gown. I fell back into my chair. Mai?

  Jason wore a black tuxedo, his hair gelled back, the whiteness of the tuxedo shirt accentuating his skin. Our eyes locked for a second, but I looked away, down toward my napkin that had dropped to the floor. I couldn’t help the sudden sharp pain driving through my chest. I had never pictured him with a woman, but why not?

  I turned in my chair, staring at the podium, awaiting the guest speaker. Tonight, Rodrigo Pessoa, one of the most successful riders of all time, was scheduled to give a talk on his success through his “secret family formula.”

  Our family had obviously failed at success. Dad had worked hard and where did that get him? Some small barn, a few clients, and save for a few second and third placings, no big Grand Prix wins behind him.

  Chris slid into his chair beside me.

  “Welcome.” I gave him a reproachful stare. He gave a lopsided one back, shrugging.

  “Vivian,” someone said. “Glad you could make it.” The host pulled the chair out for Vivian, directly across the table from me.

  “Hello, everyone.” She nodded, as she sat elegantly in her chair, then acknowledged me. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

  A coldness crept over me. Vivian had won third, my first time ever beating her at a show. “Thank you,” I said, raising my glass. “To all of us.” I made eye contact with the rest of the people at the table.

  Vivian gave a thin smile, and pointed at her glass. “It’s bad luck to toast with an empty one.”

  “Here, here,” Chris said, tapping his glass of scotch to the empty wineglass.

  Roman, who’d won the class, was quick to answer. “Let me make this better for my two good friend riders.” He leaned forward and filled Vivian’s glass, kissed the back of her hand, bowed, then passed the bottle to Chris.

  Vivian took a sip of her wine. “I have to say, your placing today is quite impressive. And I don’t mean to burst your bubble or anything, but we all get those lucky breaks. You’re going to have to be more careful next time. It looked like those rails barely stayed up.”

  The din around me seemed to fade as blood pumped in my ears, heat rising to my face. I placed my glass of wine down carefully, circling the rim of the smooth, cool glass, unable to lift my gaze.

  Roman broke the silence around the table first. “Now, now, Vivian. Brynn did good riding today. She’s been working hard, no?” Everyone nodded except Chris, who seemed to be distracted by something in his drink, his ice cubes jingling as he swirled them. I finally looked up at Vivian. Her face looked tight, and when she smiled, her crow’s-feet seemed to have disappeared, her forehead didn’t budge. Botox, I thought. For some reason that gave me courage. We all have our failings. I couldn’t let her best me.

  I glanced around the group. “It’s true. This may have been a lucky break for me. But I’ve earned enough points that we’ll be heading to Spruce Meadows for the July qualifier, so I guess we’ll see whether I can do it again. And then on to the Gold Cup, and well, then we can discuss who’s riding on luck.”

  Roman and the rest of the group of riders laughed and cheered, raising their glasses, clinking them, slapping each other on the back. “Na zrdrowie! Here’s to good competition!” Roman said as he downed the remainder of his wine in one gulp.

  “The secret to winning is that you must imagine the win even before you get there . . .” Rodrigo’s speech started. I turned away from the group, my heart still racing, the same way it did right before a class. I tried to focus on Rodrigo, but his words faded in and out, while I took the silk of my dress and wound it tight around my finger.

  I felt proud at not having looked at Jason, and mostly Mai, more than half a dozen times during the rest of the evening. I made excuses to myself that Derek, Helena, and her husband sat at that table too, and I had to check on them. Jason caught me once, nodded, then smiled. He appeared comfortable and relaxed, his legs stretched out as he leaned back in his chair.

  I was presented with a check for $22,000, my portion of the winnings, by the head of the West Coast League show committee. This would buy us some time, pay for a few months of expenses for the ranch—maybe I’d even be able to stretch it through to the end of the summer.

  As I walked up to receive it, Derek, Helena, Mai, and Jason stood to clap. I blushed, lowering my head. A proud smile spread across Jason’s face. Chris buried his face in his glass of scotch, or rum, or whatever he was drinking now. Vivian looked busy talking to Walt, the rider on her left.

  When the last of the speeches finished, I hounded Chris. “Are you ready to go?”

  “What? No way! We’re all heading out to a party tonight. And you’re not getting out of this one. You’ve got to loosen up, Brynn!” He winked, leaned in, and planted a kiss. “Live a little.” His arm moved down my back, toward my waist. He leaned in, brushing my hair off my shoulder and away from my ear. “By the way, did I tell you you look stunning tonight?”

  “Let me think? Nope. Don’t remember that.”

  “Well, you do. You’re the most beautiful girl here.”

  “You haven’t said much to me all night.”

  “Haven’t I? Well, I better make it up to you.” His hand inched up my thigh under the heavy linen tablecloth.

  I looked up, mortified, in time to see Mai whispering in Jason’s ear, his head leaned toward her as he laughed at whatever she’d said. My chest tightened again, and I leaned in toward Chris and gave him a full open-mouthed kiss. When I pulled away, Chris looked more stunned than I’d ever seen him look, but his surprise was quickly overridden by a large grin.

  I dabbed the corner of my mouth with a napkin, then said, “Why the hell not? I’m in. Let’s get this party started.”

  Chris waited for me in the lobby while I ran to my room to drop off the check. I grabbed a sweater, and reapplied my lip gloss, puckering my lips in
the mirror. I tried calling Mom again, but she still didn’t answer. I dabbed a bit more perfume behind my ears, my body seeming to float as I ran down the stairs.

  More than a dozen riders had already gathered in the lobby. Most I recognized, but no names registered. At a show I always knew the horses, but not the riders.

  I ran up to Chris. “I hope I’m not holding things up.”

  “No worries. We’re still waiting on a couple of people.” He inspected me, holding me at arm’s length. “Your legs look fantabulous!” He pulled me close, grabbing my ass, nibbling my ear.

  Madison interrupted us. “Where’s Star?”

  “Little ladies room,” Chris said, letting me go.

  I groaned. “They’re coming?”

  “Of course! Everyone’s invited. It’s gonna be one helluva party!” Chris moved toward Roman and Vivian, telling a joke, causing the group to crack up.

  Madison stared at me, a hint of victory on her face. Obviously she wasn’t so in awe of my amazing showmanship and riding skills.

  That’s all I needed: Chris Peterson groupies trailing us.

  Derek came to the lobby, and I asked if he was coming.

  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world, B!”

  “What about Jason?”

  Derek was already laughing with Roman and the others.

  “What about Jason?” I asked again. “Isn’t he coming?”

  Derek pulled away from the group for a moment. “Nah. Says it’s not his deal. Did you expect him to come, or something?”

  He was right. What was I thinking? He was probably off with Mai.

  A white stretch Escalade limo pulled into the hotel’s circular drive.

  “Ready to little bit of party?” Roman called to the group.

  We all piled in. I sat between Chris and Roman, Derek sat with Star and Madison. The limo cruised through the small downtown area of Del Mar, stopping in front of a hole-in-the-wall bar. The place wasn’t anything like the happening club Roman had gone on about.