I grabbed an empty table in the Commons at lunch time when I didn’t see Harry. If he showed up, he might sit with me or he’d find another friend. Where was he? At school, I hoped. I opened up my lunch sack and pulled out a sandwich. I’d barely unwrapped it when I saw Dani winding her way through the cafeteria.
She came over and put her tray on my table. “Okay if I sit here?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Not much.” She sat down. “A lot of people are talking about Vicky Miller’s meltdown last week.”
“Yeah. Poor Vicky.” I took a bite of my sandwich. “When her parents divorced, her dad got the new car and a new girlfriend. Her mom got the house, and Vick has to take care of all her brothers and sisters. On Friday morning, they took her out of school to babysit, and she missed the assembly.”
“That sucks.” Dani poked at the casserole on her plate. “But, she made the game.”
“I know. I wanted to see her cheer and my brother play, but her mom didn’t get home until after it was over.”
“What does that have to do with football?” Dani stopped testing the casserole with her fork. She gaped at me. “You went and took care of all those kids?”
“Somebody had to step up and help. I’m her best friend.”
“I’ll say. When you guys were carrying on in front of Weaver, I thought it was just to keep Vicky out of trouble with the principal. I didn’t know all of it was real.” Dani glanced across the room and waved. “Over here, Vicky.”
It was my turn to stare at the blonde Mini-Me. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I thought if you two were fighting, I’d show everyone that you’re not a bitch, but now I’m showing this school that I like Vicky.”
“You’re Ms. Popularity,” I said, pointing out the obvious.
“Yes, but I only use my power for good.” Dani beamed at Vicky as she joined us. “Hey, Robin was telling me that she babysat for you last week.”
“Yeah and my mother may never recover.” Vicky sat down on my left side. “She wants us to stop being friends now.”
“Not going to happen,” I said. “I’d never give up the girl who ate paste with me in kindergarten.”
Vicky smiled and Dani laughed. Then, Dani said, “Well, sign me up to babysit this Friday.”
“What?” Vicky stared at her. “No way.”
“Yes, way,” Dani told her. “Football bores me, and this would give me a great reason to skip the game.”
I thought she might be overdoing it, but for some reason Vicky bought it. She spent the next ten minutes telling Dani about making dinner and the rest of the chores, but Dani just steamrolled over the objections and the two of them set it up for the game in two weeks. After all, my folks had this Friday covered.
“Is this table reserved for a hen party or can a guy have this chair?” Harry didn’t wait. He sat down on the other side of Dani, and a couple minutes later, Jack was there by Vicky. Soon Porter and Gwen showed up. Then, Bill and Steve arrived. I was sorry when the bell rang and ended the best lunch I’d had this year.
Vicky headed off to the gym for P.E. Dani and I ambled toward Science. “Vicky was straight up with you,” I said. “Her mom really does expect her to do a ton of household chores and look after the kids, too.”
“Don’t stress over it,” Dani told me. “I’ll work the kids. That’s how I learned about doing laundry and cleaning. My au pair taught me.”
“Your what?” I asked.
“She’s kind of like a nanny, chauffer and tutor all rolled into one,” Dani explained. “My folks travel a lot on business, and she’ll go with me to Vicky’s. With the two of us, we’ll whip those kids into shape, no problem.”
“I’d say so.” I grinned at her as we entered the classroom. “I’ll bet you’ll be the next one kicked out of Vicky’s house.”
“Possibly, but if I am, we’ll get Porter or Gwen or somebody else responsible enough to cover her chores so Vicky can do what she needs to do.” Dani followed me over to my desk. “Anyway, I wondered if you’d like to come with me to a horse show next Saturday. I could use some help with Lady. You won’t freak if she starts looking around for Charm and he won’t be there this time.”
“What would I do?” I asked. “My older sister does three day eventing. Mom does endurance riding and Jack games. Dad ropes. I’m really not into all this speeding around on horses. I like Twaziem. He stands around and eats and lets me brush him and talk to him about life.”
Dani laughed. “You’d help my dad groom Lady and change her saddles and keep her area clean if there aren’t any stalls available for the entrants. Watch my stuff and make sure nobody steals anything. Things like that.”
“I’ll have to check with my folks,” I said, “and arrange to miss my lesson with Rocky. Since it’d be ground school at a horse show, I think she’ll be flexible.”
The rest of the day flew by. To my amazement, Olivia was right about Cedar and Kanisha. They ran with us. If this kept up, Gwen, Porter, and I wouldn’t be the Three Musketeers anymore. We’d be the six somethings, even if I couldn’t figure out what. Practice ran late so all I was able to do was check that my Mustang was still in the lot on my way to Dad’s office.
Then, Dad and I were on the way home. When we arrived, he had to park behind the sheriff’s car and the vet’s truck. I didn’t go to the house. I headed straight for the barn. What was wrong with Twaziem? Why was Dr. Larry here? Had Twaz colicked again? And what was up with the cop? Couldn’t he look at the calendar?
When I reached the barn, I found Mom in the arena with my horse while Dr. Larry looked him over. “What’s wrong?” I demanded.
“Just a checkup, Robin,” Dr. Larry told me, tying a string on a thermometer. “I wanted to be here this time when Officer Yardley came to see Twaziem.”
I eyed the big, burly cop. “You said a week. That would be tomorrow not today.”
“This was the only slot your vet had free.” Officer Yardley made another note on the papers in his case. “So, you said he’s fifteen hands and he weighs seven hundred and fifty pounds.”
“Yes.” Dr. Larry avoided Twaziem’s kick. “In a minute, I’ll have his temp for you.” He winked at me. “Want to help? It’s not as gross as cleaning out an impaction.”
“He looks different. What did you do to him?” The cop looked at me. “Just good grooming?”
“No, my brother and I gave him a bath,” I said. “It got all the dead lice off him.”
I walked up beside Mom and petted Twaziem’s brown neck, then I straightened out his black forelock. He nudged me, but I didn’t have any carrots. “I’ll bring some later,” I promised.
Mom gave me a steady look. “What will you do later?”
“Carrots.”
She nodded, then jerked her head toward the bucket at the other end of the arena. “Right there. He couldn’t have a lollipop like the doctors used to give you, so when Larry called, I went out to the garden.”
I went over to the bucket. Talk about someone going above and beyond. As Jack said, Mom was the greatest. In her jeans, sweatshirt and boots, she looked like she’d spent the day in the barn, not in her crafts room. I wondered if she’d been able to do any of the sewing she wanted to get done. Her busy season started right after Halloween and ran through New Year’s when she sold all the quilts, wall hangings and stuffed toy critters she made.
I grabbed two carrots and went back to give them to Twaziem. I hated to say the cop was right about anything, but Twaz’s reddish brown coat had started to gleam. It still stretched tightly over his ribs, and his hip bones stuck out and up, but he was a little fatter. The bumps of his spine weren’t as prominent.
Crunch. One carrot was slicked up. Ears twitching, he chewed and stomped again when Dr. Larry picked up his tail. “Stop it,” I told him. “You have this done every time he comes to see you.”
“It doesn’t mean he likes it.” Mom glanced across the ring as the other door opened and Dad came toward us.
He’d taken time to change from his accounting suit to his jeans and western shirt. He held a sheaf of papers in his hand.
He nodded at the cop, then smiled at the vet. “You didn’t come get your report on Twaziem, Robbie, so I brought it with me.”
“I’ll have to write in the facts from today.” I went to take Twaziem’s tail from the vet. “I’m monitoring how he improves from day to day and what I’m doing with him.”
“I’ll bet I know who taught you that.” Dr. Larry slid the thermometer inside my horse’s rear, keeping hold of the string. “In a minute, you can add his temp. Have you dewormed him yet?”
“No, it’s too soon. I have to wait another week or he could have a reaction from all the poisons introduced to his system.”
“Poisons?” Officer Yardley looked super interested, as if he’d just won the lottery.
I hoped he never played poker. He was so easy to hook. I widened my eyes and tried to appear innocent, like a sappy actress in a late night movie. “Hello. You don’t think lice powder is talcum, do you? It couldn’t have killed the parasites without toxic elements. And worming paste does, too, or it wouldn’t eliminate the internal ones.”
The excitement faded from his face and I thought, Gotcha.
I turned back to the veterinarian. “When I deworm him, I’m thinking he should just have a light dose. I was reading about colic on the Internet and one of the sites warned that dead worms could cause an impaction.”
“You’re right.” Dr. Larry gently pulled out the thermometer, sidestepping so Twaziem kicked the air. “Lost a horse last year when that happened. And he was healthy, not debilitated like this fellow.” Another kick from the horse and another quick step away by the vet. It looked like a strange sort of dance. Frowning, Dr. Larry shook his head. “He really hates me.”
“It’s not you.” I dropped Twaziem’s tail and glanced at my folks in time to see Mom tighten her hold on the lead to keep the horse from biting Dad. “Not you in particular, I mean. He has gender issues. I don’t know exactly what Caine did to him besides hitting him with a manure fork, but Twaziem has issues with guys.”
“How do you know someone hit him?” Dr. Larry asked.
“Because he threatens Jack whenever he tries to clean the stall, but I can use the fork around him and Twaz just eats. I know the girls did something to his grain. He sniffs it and plays with it before he tries just a mouthful. He won’t touch any of the supplements that Rocky says he’s supposed to have. And he goes berserk if you’re in the stall when he has the grain, so I only go in when he eats hay.”
“Very observant.” Dr. Larry walked over to the bucket and came back with a carrot. When he offered it to Twaziem, my horse pinned his ears back and then snatched it away, chewing the carrot extra quick before the veterinarian could change his mind and take back the treat. “I guess I should count my fingers,” Dr. Larry said, “but at least this time he took it from me.”
“He’s getting better.” I went and took the papers from Dad to show them to the vet.
There were three pages. The first was a picture of Twaziem with the date and place where we got him. The second listed his height and weight plus all of the food he’d been fed at his various breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. The last page detailed all of the activities he’d done, including the colics and hours in the pasture with Singer.
Dr. Larry reread the final paragraph. “Good idea, Robin. Grass is a natural laxative. Until you can deworm him, put him out a couple hours each day. Now, about your internship. What do your Sundays look like? That’s when I get some of my most interesting cases, and you could learn a lot.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Monday, September 23rd, 7:00 p.m.
I waited until everyone was almost finished with supper before I brought up the subject of the horse show. “Dani Wilkerson wants me to go with her this Saturday when she shows Lady. I’d have to miss my ground school class, but I’d learn a lot when I prep her horse.”
“Is Dani the girl who rode with you and Vicky last week?” Mom spread butter on her roll. “The one on the big bay mare?”
“That’s her,” I said. “Lady is Prince Charming’s mother.”
“Have we met her family?” Dad asked. “Has she ever been here?”
“No. I thought she was kind of snooty, but she’s okay when you get to know her.”
“Most people are,” Dad said. “Is Vicky going with you?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “She has her internship hours at the barn that day.”
“At least she gets to be around horses then.” Jack spooned up the last of the potatoes. “She won’t get one of her own now that her parents are divorcing. It’s one more piecrust promise.”
“Piecrust promise?” It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place the reference. “What does that mean?”
“Promises that are easily made and easily broken, like they say in Disney movies,” Jack answered. “Vicky’s folks have been telling her that she can have a horse for years. Now, since her dad’s moved out, he says he can’t afford to buy her one. Her mom wants too much in child support.”
“Does her dad know that Vicky’s picking up a lot of the slack around the house?” I finished my last bite of salad. “Does he even care?”
“Not much,” Jack said. “He isn’t actually Vick’s biological father, so he told her that she isn’t his kid even though he’s been in the picture since she was five and he’s the closest to a dad that she’s ever had.”
I wasn’t about to say it sucked at the dinner table because then I’d get a lecture on my language and my parents hadn’t actually agreed I could go with Dani yet. “That majorly stinks.”
“Yeah.” Jack winked at me. His mindreading skills must have been working because he definitely knew what I was thinking. “I don’t know about letting Robin go to this horse event. Who knows what could happen next? Maybe, she’d actually watch me game or go to an endurance contest or a roping without griping the whole time.”
“Stuff it, Jack.”
“In your ear, Robin.”
“Behave, both of you.” Mom smiled at Dad. “You’re roping this Saturday. Jack’s gaming at that competition, and Singer and I are headed for Ellensberg with Linda and her horse. We leave Friday afternoon, and I’ll be home Sunday afternoon.”
“Then, it sounds like this would be the perfect time for Robbie to go with her friend,” Dad said. “If something goes wrong, you can call me and I’ll pick you up on our way back.”
“What about Twaziem? He’ll be home by himself if all the horses are gone.”
“He’ll be fine,” Jack said. “I’ll load up his manger before we leave, and we’ll lock the driveway gates.”
“And when I’m next door, I’ll ask Linda’s husband to stop in and feed him lunch,” Mom said. “With Zeke keeping an eye on the place, Twaziem will be just fine.”
“Then, we have a plan for the weekend.” Jack pushed back from the table and stood. He limped toward the counter with his plate.
“What happened to you?” Mom asked. “Did you get hurt at football practice?”
“No, I got kicked when I was doing stalls,” Jack said. “No worries.”
“Did you put ice on it right away?” Dad asked. “Or were you being stupid and macho?”
“Well, I guess I was macho.” A faint grin creased Jack’s face. “It didn’t hurt that much before, but it does now. I didn’t want to come up before I finished chores.”
“Go soak that leg, son,” Dad said. “Next time, ask for help.”
“I’ve been telling you for years that Nitro is pure mean,” I said. “Next time, you’ll listen to me.”
“Like that’s going to happen when you’re wrong,” Jack told me. “It was your horse who nailed me, not mine. And you can do the dishes for me tonight.”
“Unfair,” I complained. “I always end up doing them for you. I’ll do them tonight because you’re hurt, but I’m filing a grievance with the union. I’ll bet
Felicia will too.”
“Twaziem is really quick with his heels.” Mom shook her head ruefully. “I’m glad that Larry is such a horseman or he could have been kicked today. The horse certainly tried for him. I wanted the colt to spend most of his time in the stall until he gained more weight, but I think it would be safer if the kids put him in the arena while they muck.”
“Makes sense to me.” Dad rose and began to clear the table. “Once he learns that we won’t abuse him, he’ll settle down. He’s just nervous.”
“He only needed a good home and he has one now.” I got up and started stacking dishes. “He’s a lot better than he was when he arrived.”
“Try explaining to him that kicking the guy who comes to do the room is rude,” Jack said. “I’ll put him in the arena from now on, but that horse doesn’t like me. He wheels and tries for me as soon as I open the door. I don’t know if I can get a halter on him.”
“I told you before that he had gender issues, and you said horses weren’t the same as people.” I ferried plates to the kitchen. “You told me horses don’t hate or love the way we do.”
“Well, I’m beginning to change my mind. Twaziem has done a lot to convince me,” Jack said.
“Starting tomorrow, you go put Twaziem in the arena, Robbie. I don’t want that horse to hurt your brother again.” Dad gestured toward the hall. “Jack, you’re not doing that leg any good by standing on it. If you want to play football tomorrow, go soak it.”
“And your head,” I added sweetly. “I’ll handle my mean horse from now on.”
When Jack left, Mom asked, “Robin, are you afraid of Twaziem? If you are, I’ll take him into the arena or to a paddock.”
“Twaz doesn’t scare me,” I said. “I’ll bet Jack moved too fast or swung a tool too quickly or something. Twaziem wouldn’t kick him without a good reason.”
“What seems like a good reason to a horse isn’t always one to a person,” Mom said. “I think I’ll call Mrs. Bartlett and ask her if there’s any reason for Twaziem to go after a teenage boy.”
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