High Hurdles

by Lauraine Snelling

  DJ watched as the boys grew louder and her mother’s lips tightened. Soon Robert took on the same harassed look Lindy wore.

  “Well, see you guys. I got homework.”

  The twins threw themselves at DJ for hugs and kisses before returning to their father.

  “What did you bring us? I want to go home. Will Nanny Jean be there?”

  On one hand, DJ wanted to see the rest of the scene, and on the other, she had to leave before she burst out laughing. She didn’t need a plan to prevent a wedding between her mother and Robert. All she had to do was let the twins loose. A short time later, she heard the front door close and Robert’s car start and leave.

  Her mother turned out the lights and made her way up the stairs and down the hall. She tapped on DJ’s door. “Thanks for your help, dear. I never could have done it without you.”

  “Come on in.” DJ lay flat on her bed, algebra book and notebook spread in front of her. Dear. Since when did her mother call her or anyone “dear”? Things they are a’changing, that’s for sure.

  “Are you behind on your homework?” Lindy leaned against the doorjamb.

  “Not too bad. I worked ahead since I knew this weekend would be busy.”

  “Wish I could have done that.”

  “You decided on your thesis yet?” DJ found herself fishing for something to say. This was worse than being in a group of adults asking, “how’s school?” or, “what do you want to do when you grow up?”

  “I’ve narrowed it down to two projects. One might interest you.”

  DJ looked up from tracing the pattern in her bedspread.

  “I’m thinking of focusing on teenage entrepreneurs, like you and Amy with the pony parties. I want to zero in on how kids start their own businesses and manage them. What do you think?”

  “Your advisor would approve something like that?” DJ swung her feet to the floor.

  Lindy nodded.

  “Then I think it’s cool.”

  “Do you know any other teens who’ve started their own businesses?”

  DJ crossed one leg over her other knee and rested her elbows on her leg. “Not right off the bat, but I can ask at school. In fact, you could put an article or something in the school paper and let the kids contact you.”

  “If I did that at your school, maybe I could at others.”

  “I’ve seen articles in papers and magazines about kids and their businesses.” DJ slid back on her bed and sat with her legs crossed. She patted the bed beside her. “You could check Scholastic or Seventeen. That would help you tap into kids from other areas.”

  “Do you read those magazines?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Hmm. And I thought you read only horse stuff.” Lindy scraped at the ketchup stain on her jeans. “You know, you’re really good with the twins.”

  “Thanks.”

  “They like you.”

  “They like anyone who answers their questions.” Where is this conversation going? What am I supposed to say now? They like you, too?

  “Well, I better get to bed. I’ll set up a search on the Internet tomorrow and see if I can find more kids who have businesses of their own. I can use you and Amy for a case study, can’t I?”

  DJ nodded. “Sure.”

  “And some of your other attempts, too?”

  “M-o-m, get real.”

  “No, I’m serious. I need failed attempts, too, and yours are good examples of learning by trial and error.”

  “Yeah, mostly error.” DJ looked up at her mother, one eyebrow raised. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Lindy shook her head. “And if the thesis works out well, I’m thinking of using the research to write a book. What do you think of that?”

  “Wow. That’s really cool.”

  “That’s also just a dream. Thanks for all the help.” Lindy started to walk out. “Oh, DJ? I’m sorry you didn’t do better in the show. I hope having the twins there didn’t affect your performance.”

  “Yeah, well, I have to learn to deal with distractions and the unexpected. At least that’s what Bridget keeps drilling into me. I’m glad you came.”

  “Me too.” As Lindy left the room, a breath of her perfume lingered on the air.

  DJ sniffed. How come Gran’s roses still smelled so much better? “Night, Mom.”

  Later, as she lay trying to go to sleep, DJ thought back over the conversation with her mother. DJ and Amy in a thesis? What would Amy say?

  When DJ got home from school on Monday, the house was still a shambles from the weekend. She wandered out to the backyard that used to be such a showplace. Now dead flowers and seed pods covered more of the plants than blossoms. The roses needed pruning. She tried to pull a carrot to munch, but the ground was so dry the top broke off.

  “Fiddle.” She dug down into the dirt and yanked out the carrot. She washed it under the faucet and turned on the sprinklers. They needed to get automatic ones at this rate. Now DJ couldn’t leave till the yard was soaked. She shook her head. She’d have to remember to turn them on when she got home and off again.

  “Even the hummingbird feeders are empty. Just like me.” She shook her head. Here she was talking to herself. And yesterday she’d been praying for quiet.

  Joe and Ranger were in the ring when she and Amy arrived at the Academy. Tony had the jumping arena. His horse wore the dark sheen of hard work, and Tony’s face wore a frown.

  “Did you hear what his father said to him yesterday?” Amy asked as they ambled toward the tack room.

  “Nope.” DJ picked Patches’ bridle off the peg.

  “Well, let’s just say I know where the kid gets it.”

  DJ stopped before picking up a grooming bucket. “Gets what?”

  “The way he talks to Hilary.” Amy dropped her voice. “If my father talked to me that way, I’d . . . I’d . . . I don’t know what I’d do, but it would be bad.”

  “Ames, quit yakking in circles and tell me. What did the man say?”

  “He yelled at Tony for letting a—you know, the n word—beat him. He said if Tony couldn’t do better than that, they’d sell his horse and he could go play Pogs with the little kids.”

  DJ sank down on the bench. “How come you didn’t tell me sooner?”

  Amy shrugged. “No time. And you weren’t in a very good mood, if you remember. That man used more four-letter words than the creeps do at school. If I talked like that, I’d be grounded for life.”

  “Me too.” DJ gnawed on her lower lip. “All I know is that if things don’t change soon, Hilary will leave. If anyone’s gonna leave, it ought to be Tony.”

  They both picked up their buckets and started down the aisle.

  “DJ.”

  She turned to see Bridget coming toward them. “What’s up?”

  “I need to know if you are going to the jumping clinic at Wild Horse Ranch. The registrations need to be in the mail today.”

  DJ rubbed her bottom lip with her tongue. “I guess not. I really need a saddle, so I’m saving all my money for that.”

  “Sorry to hear that. It is not often one is given the opportunity to work with someone of this instructor’s caliber.”

  “I’d just like to meet the man. Seeing a former Olympic rider in person—that’s better than meeting any movie star.”

  “Well, maybe next time.”

  “Maybe next time what?” Joe, leading Ranger, walked up to the trio.

  After DJ explained the situation, Joe just shook his head. “I’ll pay the fee. Why didn’t you tell me? You know Gran says all you have to do is ask.”

  “I know, but Robert volunteered and Mom wouldn’t let him. I figured I better leave well enough alone.”

  To go or not to go. The choices warred in DJ’s head. So what if her mother got mad at her—it wouldn’t be anything new. Was the jumping clinic worth a fight? Lindy hadn’t exactly said DJ couldn’t go—she’d just said Robert couldn’t pay and that DJ needed to earn the money. This wasn’t exactly earning the money, but
she had found it another way. And Joe was right, Gran had said she’d pay for DJ’s showing fees, but that was when she lived in the same house. Did the offer still stand?

  “DJ, let me worry about Lindy, okay?” Joe dug his wallet out of his pocket. “How much is it?”

  “Thanks, GJ. I’ll pay you back somehow.”

  He pulled out several more bills. “How about if I go, too? I’m sure I could learn plenty since I’m such a novice. This way, I’ll know what you are talking about.”

  “Good idea.” Bridget nodded. “You will find there are clinics for cutting horses, too, in case you decide to train Ranger yourself.”

  “I better get going. Thanks again, GJ, and you, too, Bridget.” DJ picked up her gear and danced down the row until she came to Patches’ stall. The gelding nickered when he saw her. “Hey, that’s a first.” She dug in her bucket for a couple of horse cookies. “Here’s your treat. I better remind your mother to bring them to you since you’re such a sweetie today.” The horse tossed his head, spraying her with slobber and bits of grain. “And then again, maybe not.” She wiped her face and set to work with the brushes.

  By the time she’d worked Patches’ energy off so he could get down to business, she’d used up half of her time with him. Obviously his owner hadn’t been out to ride him today. DJ couldn’t get used to the idea that people who owned horses didn’t ride them every day. In fact, some of the stabled horses were never ridden except by Academy employees.

  “Why have a horse if you don’t ride him?” Patches shook his head. He pulled at the bit as if hoping DJ had forgotten to let him run.

  “No, you have to mind. Then we can play.” She kept her aids firm, insisting that he move away from the pressure of a leg. Every time he obeyed, she rewarded him with pats and praise. “Remind me to tell Mrs. Johnson to lunge you or let you at it on the hot walker before she gets on. No wonder you can buffalo her—you just have too much energy.”

  By the time she’d put him away and taken Major out, she felt like she’d been sitting on a jackhammer. When she put Major into an easy trot, it felt as though she were sitting on a pillow. What a difference a well-behaved horse could make!

  “He learned to conserve his energy when he was on the force,” Joe said from the sidelines. “He knew there was a long day ahead.”

  “He’s smart all right. That’s why he’s learning so fast.” DJ rode over to the side and stopped. “You on your way home now?”

  He nodded.

  “Give Gran a hug for me. Tell her the cookie jar is empty.”

  “Yeah, sure. The one at my house comes first, kid.”

  DJ watched for a moment as he strode across the lot to his Explorer. While she was glad Joe and Gran were so happy, she sure wished Gran would be at home for her like she used to, with dinner waiting and a clean house. The comforting smell of turpentine and oil paints was almost gone, and it had been far too long for the delicious smell of cookies to linger.

  “Back to work, big fella.” She spoke to cover the lump that blossomed in her throat.

  Lights on meant Lindy was home. DJ pedaled faster and parked her bike in the garage, then closed the automatic door. “Hey, Mom?”

  No answer. The kitchen wore a half-clean look, and the family room could stand a clutter check. DJ reminded herself to turn on the sprinklers. Then she ambled up the stairs. A glance in her mother’s bedroom told the story. Lindy lay with a cloth over her eyes—a sure sign of a migraine headache.

  DJ tiptoed to the edge of the bed. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, thanks.” Lindy spoke without moving her lips.

  DJ knew then that it was a bad one. She sighed and reached over to unplug the phone.

  “Robert has something to show us. He’ll be here Saturday morning about ten.”

  “I won’t be here. I’ve got that jumping clinic up in Napa. I told you about it.”

  “Oh.”

  DJ hoped her mother would let it go at that.

  “Call him, then, so we can make other arrangements.”

  “Sure.” DJ took a deep breath of relief. “I’ll check on you later in case you want some soup or something.”

  “Thank you.”

  DJ closed the door gently and made her way downstairs. After slicing a piece of cheese, she dialed Robert’s number. “Hi, Mom said to call you. I’m going to that jumping clinic in Napa on Saturday, so we—or at least, I—won’t be here.”

  “Good, I’m glad you’re going. Decided to take money out for it, huh?”

  “Well, no. Joe paid for both me and him.” And please don’t tell my mother, she wanted to say, but then . . . things were becoming a tangled mess.

  “Oh, okay. How about Sunday after church? The boys and I could go to your church, and then we’ll have brunch out before I show you the surprise.”

  “Ah . . . well . . . you know my mom doesn’t like surprises. I think I take after her.”

  “Well, I think she’ll like this one—at least I hope so. Tell her I’ll call her tomorrow. Oh, DJ, does she get headaches like this very often?”

  DJ thought a moment. “Maybe once a month or so. I guess I never paid much attention to how often.” After hanging up the phone, she thought about the surprise Robert had in store. He sure sounded excited. She hoped her mother would like it.

  She’d just finished making tomato soup and a grilled-cheese sandwich when the phone rang.

  It was Gran. “DJ, I have a problem,” she began. “I need some horses for a new book I’m working on, and your horses are usually better than mine. How about drawing some for me, then I’ll paint them in?”

  “Sure, but when do you need them?”

  “Yesterday. I took this project knowing it would be a tight deadline. The artist they originally hired took sick, and they need it as soon as I can get it to them.”

  “I could come over each night after I work at the Academy.” Without touching the floor, or at least it seemed that way, DJ danced across the room after hanging up the phone. She was going to help Gran out. Her horses would be in a children’s book! If only she could call Amy, but it was too late.

  She took her tomato soup and grilled-cheese sandwich up to her room so she could look through her sketches. Maybe one or some of them might work. Or maybe she could make them work.

  The house was still a mess when she came down in the morning. She’d planned to straighten up, but she’d gotten so involved in the drawings, she’d gone to bed late. A horn honked from the drive. Amy was already here. She’d have to take time to do it before she headed for the Academy.

  The light was blinking on the machine. That would wait, too. Out the door she flew.

  DJ’s art teacher stopped her before she left class.

  “I was really pleased to see you got that honorable mention at the art show. Have you thought of taking some extra art classes after school or on the weekends? You have real talent.”

  “Thank you, but all my time is taken up at the Academy where I work and stable my horse. I really don’t have any spare time right now.” DJ fidgeted from one foot to another. Mrs. Yamamoto was waiting for her.

  “I think horses are great, but art classes could make a difference in what you choose to do with the rest of your life. Why don’t you have your mother give me a call?”

  “Sure, thanks. I’m late for my ride.” DJ took the slip of paper and dashed off to her locker. She had so much to do, and now she was already late.

  She listened to the waiting message while she got out peanut butter and jelly for a sandwich.

  “DJ, you left the sprinklers on all night. You know what that will do to our water bill?”

  DJ groaned. And she didn’t have time to do her chores, either. She threw the dishes into the dishwasher, then grabbed the books, crayons, and paper in the family room and stuffed them under a cushion—the rest would have to wait. Out the door. Back inside. Upstairs to get her drawings for Gran. Out the door. Back inside. She needed a sweat shirt. The clouds were already e
dging the tops of the Briones hills.

  “You’re late,” Amy scolded.

  “Don’t I know it.” The girls pedaled as though they were in a race.

  Joe met her at the tack room. “DJ, was Major limping last night?”

  “No, why?”

  “There’s some swelling in his right front leg. I’ve been icing it, but you better not ride him for a few days. He must have pulled a muscle.”

  DJ felt her stomach thud down to her ankles. What had she done now?

  CHAPTER • 11

  DJ charged out to Major’s stall. “Hey, fella, what’s happening with you?” She ran her hand down his leg. Sure enough—hot to the touch and puffy. “Do you think we need to call the vet?”

  “No. I have some liniment, and with that and the ice, he’ll be fine,” Joe said.

  “You’re sure? Did Bridget see him yet? Oh, Major, I’m so sorry.” The horse snuffled DJ’s hair and searched her pockets for treats. He blew in her face when he found nothing. “Sorry, no time to stop for cookies. Joe here scared the thought right out of me.”

  “I’m afraid it means no jumping clinic on Saturday.”

  “But what could have caused it? He didn’t hit a pole or anything.”

  “Did he stumble?”

  “Not that I can think of.” DJ squatted down to inspect the swelling again. She ran gentle hands over the area. “Joe, I wouldn’t hurt him for anything.”

  “I know. These things happen. Maybe he just figures he needs a rest. It’s not your fault.”

  “I should have checked him more carefully when I put him away. Didn’t I cool him down enough? Is that it?”

  Joe lifted her up and set her on her feet. “DJ, look at me. Watch my mouth move. It is not, I repeat—not—your fault. No matter how hard you try, you can’t take care of the entire world. Or take responsibility for it, for that matter. Now, go about your chores and we’ll leave early for a scrumptious dinner. You earned a break as much as Major did.”

  “A break? Could it be a stress fracture?”

  “Help!” Joe shook his head. “I won’t even dignify that with an answer. I’ll see you in a while. You go practice concentration with your students and Patches.”