Jock

by CM Foss

  “Oh stop,” Mrs. Brooks said after the silence had gone on too long. “I can change things up.”

  I started to sputter in laughter, the rest of the crew joining in. Mrs. Brooks’s cheeks were stained pink, and her husband pulled her into his arms for a kiss that left the rest of us blushing as well.

  Letting her off the hook, kind of, we all sat. I tried to help Tessa with her chair, but let’s be honest, it was the worst task ever. She never went with the flow and ended up fighting the pusher at every turn. By the time we were done, I knew she wanted to punch me.

  The rest of the meal, however, went smoothly. There was laughter and food and wine. Everything flowed seamlessly from person to person, conversation to conversation. Dinner turned to dessert, wine turned to whiskey. By the time it was dark, everyone was lit. Mr. Brooks ushered the missus up the stairs to put her tipsy ass to bed, entertaining as that was, and we kids decided to head to the pond. I’m not entirely sure whose idea that was, but I’m gonna say Tessa, who had easily consumed twice her weight in booze.

  We parked trucks around the dock and blared music and continued the party, just like we had when we were teenagers. The only people missing were Lawrence and Shane, but we tried to live it up like they were there. Thankfully we’d outgrown the fear of cops.

  Tessa and her sisters danced barefoot in the grass, twirling around with linked arms in the moonlight. Jeanine’s husband, Adam, watched protectively from the sidelines, while Julie’s husband, Will, joked around with Chrissy’s boyfriend. Jeremy was getting razzed from all sides about when he was gonna pop the question. Fact was, I knew it was soon. I’ve always held that there’s no other reason to hang out with those crazies unless you were head over heels in love.

  “Jace!” Tessa hollered. “Let’s get the boat!”

  I crossed my arms over my chest in an attempt to remain serious. “No.”

  Adam doubled over in laughter, something I’d probably seen twice in however many years he’d been around.

  “What?”

  He held up a hand to stall me as he kept laughing, red-faced and nearly tearing up, gasping for breath. “I’m sorry, bro. I’ve just never heard you say that to her before.”

  I looked to the men standing before me, all nodding their agreement. “What are you talking about? I say no to her all the time.”

  They all shook their heads.

  “I do too.”

  “No you don’t.” The girl in question appeared out of nowhere, lower lip jutted out in a pout. “And you’re not starting now.”

  She grabbed my arm and dragged me to the dock, ignoring the hoots and laughter of her brothers-in-law.

  “Midge, it’s not safe to be out in a boat, drunk as you are.”

  “I know that. That’s why you’re coming with me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Great.”

  But we climbed in anyway, me balancing the weight of the boat to prevent us from capsizing as the tiny drunkard clumsily made her way in.

  She sat on the bench with a huff and lay back against an old seat cushion, staring up at the stars. I rowed us out to the center of the pond, the moonlight glinting off the reflection of the water looking like steam rising off the surface. Everything got quieter the farther we went, and as we settled in the middle, all you could hear was the trickling of water off the oars and the crickets hidden in the reeds.

  I set the oars inside the boat and settled back to float, content with the silence and peace. It didn’t even bother me when I heard everyone on shore start their trucks and take off, leaving us to each other.

  I was startled out of my wandering thoughts by the jolt and tip of the boat and the sounds of Tessa’s cursing as she stood and walked over the center bench to fall beside me. I caught her around the waist, her shirt damp from lying in the bottom of the boat and warmed by her skin. It rode up around the side and my fingers dipped beneath of their own accord, in no rush to retract.

  “Sorry,” she whispered into my chest.

  Our breathing was strained but matching in tempo, as if each of us was scared to let our bodies do anything natural. Strains of music from my truck floated out to us, lulling me into the warmth of the too-young girl lying next to me.

  “I’ll miss you.” The words were out of my mouth before I could take them back.

  “I’ve been missing you.”

  I slid my hand down her bare arm, gently encircling her wrist with my fingers to draw her thumb from between her teeth.

  She blinked up at me, her eyes wide and blue and full of depth. “When I get back, will you not… stay away so much.”

  I stared over her head, searching for words that wouldn’t come. “I didn’t know you… thought about it.”

  “I did. I do. I know you don’t approve of… of me. Of what I do and who I am and…”

  “Hey.” I pressed my hand over her mouth, stopping the flood of words pouring out. “Hey, that’s not true. The truth is you scare the shit out of me. What you do scares the shit out of me. It’s not about approval. It’s not about who you are.”

  She pulled my hand away from her mouth, away from the lips I’d just become aware of, and inched up my body. Every muscle in my body seized, my lungs wouldn’t work, and my heart threatened to bust out of my chest.

  Her fingers were twisted into my shirt at my waist and she stopped when our noses brushed. I inhaled deeply, feeling her breath across my mouth like a kiss, feeling her heart beat against mine. I wanted so much of her, all of her. I wanted to touch her and consume her, kiss her, make love to her… love her.

  Was it right?

  No. No, it wasn’t.

  But it definitely didn’t feel wrong either.

  I moved slowly, my hands up her back and my mouth closer to hers. She inhaled sharply, pressing her front against me. I stopped again at the first touch of our lips. At the line we were about to cross.

  I pulled back to look her in the eyes, which were softly closed but opened when I moved. I could barely see in the moonlight, but I could see enough. I could see the clarity and the want, and it was all I needed to push me over and beyond.

  My lips crashed into hers, stealing her breath as she stole mine. Our tongues met and warred and caressed. It was all the perfect mix of need and uncertainty, gentleness and desperation. I cupped her face in my hands, running my fingers through the hair at her scalp, tugging her closer, anchoring myself to her. Her leg lifted over my hip, and I nearly lost it when she writhed against me. My heart was racing and leaping all over the place, I couldn’t draw in a deep enough breath to restore sanity or sustain life, and I didn’t care. We were lost in our own world, not thinking of time or family or anything beyond each other.

  But when one of the oars landed in the water with a splash, the boat rocking precariously, I froze, reality striking me.

  I pulled away, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, soothing her as I rested our foreheads together. She lifted her hands to grip my wrists, encircling them with her fingers, grounding us.

  “Why are we stopping?” she whispered, eyes shut.

  I took a deep, shaky breath. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to keep going, to make her mine, to show her every way she should be treated.

  But we weren’t ready. And the consequences of timing could end us before we even had a chance.

  I lifted my chin and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering as long as I dared, as long as my resolve could stand. Her grip on my arms tightened, pulling her against my hips in a dangerous fashion.

  “Midge. No. Not like this.”

  I prayed she knew what I meant. That she felt the meaning behind the words I couldn’t speak.

  Her body stiffened, turning cold. “Not like this? Or not like me?”

  I reached out to brush the hair from her forehead, but she flinched at my touch, my heart doing the same. I opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it, her voice oddly cheerful and high-pitched. “Anyway, we should go in. I have to get up early in the morning to leave.” She
sat up and waved her hand toward the bottom of the boat and gave a small laugh. “Sorry about all that. I’ve had way too much to drink.”

  “Tessa.”

  “Please, Jace. Let’s go.” Her voice trembled just a touch, and she held herself so tight, keeping it together.

  I never could say no to her.

  Chapter 12

  Tessa

  Present

  I remember how it all started. This fierce drive of mine. Some in my family would probably contradict me. They’d say I always had it. Maybe they were right, but the difference is that I didn’t know what it was for.

  I revered my older brother Shane. Everyone did. He was fun and charming and smart, and he cared. He cared about everyone while making you feel like you were the only one.

  He was also rarely home in those days. That probably made a difference.

  “Come on! It’s almost post time!” I yelled from my perch on the dummy racehorse I’d set in front of the TV.

  “Hold your horses,” Shane hollered back, carrying over a bowl of popcorn and setting it on the coffee table. He sighed as he looked down at the matching dummy next to me. “Do I really have to do this?”

  I nodded. “You promised.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re the best big brother in the whole world and I’m your favorite sister?”

  He nodded with a mock stern expression. “Well, that’s true. And don’t you forget it. I don’t want Lawrence taking my place while I’m gone.”

  My face fell. “He won’t. He’s an ass. And no one could take your place.”

  “Don’t be sad, runt. I’ll be back.”

  “Promise?” I looked up at him with hopeful eyes, but I knew he wouldn’t. He never would, because he would never want to break one.

  “Tell you what. Regardless of… me, I want you to promise me something.”

  “Anything.” My naïve fifteen-year-old self would allow me to do that so easily.

  He nodded at the dummy I was sitting on, then toward the television. “I don’t want you sitting on that piece of wood, staring into the screen at the Derby every year. One day I want you on the inside, busting out of the gates while some other little girl watches you from the outside and realizes that all dreams are possible. God made you small for a reason.”

  I took a deep breath, nodding my head furiously. “I promise.”

  “Then I shall ride with you.”

  I squealed in delight as my giant of a brother folded himself onto the wooden horse, hiking his long legs into the stirrups. I giggled when his knees nearly touched his chin. On the television, horses and riders were entering the gates, one by one. The Kentucky Derby. The pride of our state. I lived on our family’s Thoroughbred breeding farm, but I’d never been to the Derby. My parents were there, but I think they liked to keep it a thing for themselves. It didn’t bother me. I’d rather watch from a couch, able to zoom in to the finish line and the horses of interest, or be riding in it myself.

  The shrill ring of the bell and the clash of the gates thrusting open elicited a spark of excitement in me that I imagined would be tenfold in person. Immediately we began pumping our arms, the heads and necks of the dummies moving forward and back. Shane looked at me over his arm with a wide, white grin. He flipped a crop around in his fingers, twirling it expertly in a blur at the horse’s neck before pretending to use it at his side. I attempted my own whip acrobatics, just much slower, fumbling so as not to drop it.

  “You better practice, runt,” he yelled as the horses on screen thundered through the homestretch.

  I was torn between watching the race and watching my brother, who would be heading to Afghanistan in just a week. Again. My eyes flitted back and forth, intent on treasuring the time he’d carved out for me.

  Finally we stood, pumping one fist into the air in mock victory. But Shane held his to the side, like a microphone under my chin.

  “How did it feel, winning the Derby in your home state?”

  “Like the best day of my life.”

  He laughed and ruffled my hair. “We’ll see about that. There’s more to come.”

  He was only partly right. That was five years ago. And yeah, a whole lot more came.

  “Tessa! Tessa!” Nacho bounded up on a flighty chestnut filly. Her eyes were wide, not with fear but probably with astonishment over the array of colors standing above her. Her rider was wearing black chaps fringed with yellow and silver, a lot of fringe that slapped and crackled as the wind blew through it and Nacho flailed around. His helmet was bright orange and his safety vest matched the chaps. He twirled his crop expertly and lightning quick through his fingers before tucking it into his back pocket.

  My horse shot sideways as he approached, and I laughed and patted the colt’s neck. I didn’t blame him for his reaction, nor was I surprised by it.

  “Morning, Nacho.” I shook my head at his ridiculous ensemble. “You go shopping?”

  “If you want, I can hook you up. You need something? I got gloves. You need gloves, girl. You gotta keep those hands soft. You know what I’m sayin’?” He waggled his dark, thick eyebrows and grinned wide, teeth gleaming.

  I glanced down at my bare hands, knuckles rough from spending so much time brushing against, or dug into, a horse’s mane. He was probably right about needing gloves, but I hated riding in them. Even the thinnest material gave me butterfingers.

  “I’m good. Thanks though.”

  “You just let me know. Anything you need.”

  “Legally?”

  He burst out laughing, drawing glances from others in the area. “Aw, girl.”

  I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a yes.

  “You wanna ride with me? What are you doin’ on that one?” He nodded at my mount.

  “Just once around. Quietly.”

  “I can do quiet.”

  I smirked but nodded. Once we reached the track, we picked up the trot. I stood high in my stirrups, staying out of my horse’s way, while Nacho posted up and down, barely holding on to his reins while his horse curled his neck and swayed side to side, frequently bumping into me. We chatted—well, mostly Nacho chatted—about nothing in particular as we galloped around the giant oval, stirrups clanking against each other intermittently, horses matching their strides and huffing breaths.

  “How was New York?” Nacho called over, twirling his whip through his fingers absently.

  “It was good. Glad to be home though. It felt long.” I reached over and poked his shoulder. “How come you didn’t go?”

  “Ah, girl. I don’t do New York. I went to Charlestown. Night racing. It’s more my scene.”

  I hid a smile. “I bet.”

  We pulled up in sync and walked off the track, similar to the way we walked on. Two completely different ways of doing things, same basic end result.

  Just before we parted, Nacho moved close, dipping his head over to me. “I left you a coming-home present in your truck. Go see.”

  “Oh Lord.” I rolled my eyes.

  “You’ll like it. I promise.”

  “Bye, Nacho.”

  “Later, girl.” He winked.

  I rode back to the barn, still marveling over pretty much everything about the older jockey, passing my horse off with a pat on her neck. A quick check of my watch let me know that I had just enough time to sweat in the box before I needed to meet up with Pimp-Daddy and plan out the rest of my week.

  I sat quietly, twiddling my thumbs, counting off the minutes, and trying not to pay attention to the stifling air. I hated breathing warm air. It was weirdly quiet in there, the sounds of my rustling around my only company, and I wasn’t really enjoying being alone in my thoughts. I flipped onto my back and threw an arm over my eyes. Instead of thinking about my thirst and hunger, I replayed races in my mind. My wins, my losses. The horses, the feel, the holes. How I could do it all better.

  The door thrust open, giving me a welcome breath of coolness. I sucked it eag
erly into my lungs.

  “Hey, Tessa,” Cooper said as she walked in. “Drew’s out there waiting for you.”

  “Shit.” I popped up and rubbed my hands over my face. “I lost track of time.”

  “That’s because you’re in the vortex. Time doesn’t matter in here.” She sighed and lay back on the bench, assuming the same position I’d just been in. Cooper was new to Kentucky, a petite redhead whose calm demeanor belied her looks. She was more experienced than me and tended to keep to herself throughout the day. I always wanted to ask her out since she was the only other female jockey that seemed likeable, but I wasn’t really sure how to go about it. Go for drinks? I rarely drank, and when I did, it was usually pretty regrettable. This must be how dudes felt.

  So I just gave a small, awkward laugh. “Yeah. Well, thanks.”

  She waved her hand around in acknowledgment.

  “Have fun.”

  She stuck up her middle finger. I was still laughing as I left the box.

  Drew and I spent the next couple of hours going through racing journals and talking to trainers. He had an idea of who we spoke to and what horses he wanted me on. I teased him a lot, but I trusted him implicitly when it came to this stuff. So I did what he said and nodded in all the right places. If I didn’t make money, he didn’t make money, so the relationship was very clear.

  It ended up I would race six horses on Friday and seven on Saturday. The rest of the week prior, I’d have an opportunity to ride most of those horses, give them light workouts and get a feel for them. Some I’d already ridden before, and I felt pretty comfortable with the plan.

  “How’s your weight?” Drew asked, not looking at me as he flipped through some papers.

  I pursed my lips at his question. “I hate when you ask that.”

  “I have to ask it.”

  “Well, it’s fine.”

  He peered up at me through his glasses, his dark eyes narrowed. “I know those five pounds get to you.”