by Naomi Niles
“I was proud of both of you,” said Mama, beaming.
I stretched and yawned. It was only eight in the morning, and I was already feeling exhausted.
“Anyhoo,” I said, “I think I’m gonna take Bessie over in the trailer this morning and see how she’s doing.”
“Who, Bessie or the girl?” asked Mama with a shrewd look. “Come on; I’ll follow you out.”
We walked out into the back pasture. It was dark out; thick, low-hanging clouds hid the sun from view. The air had that eerie cool feeling like a storm was imminent. The tall cedar that stood over the fence swayed ominously. The red-breasted cardinal that nested there took off in an easterly direction.
“Tornado weather,” I said, as I surveyed the darkening horizon. “Wouldn’t be surprised if we see one before the day is out.”
“It’s nothing we haven’t been through before,” said Mama, leaning forward and giving me a peck on the check. “You just go over there and find out what that girl’s name is. It’s important.”
“Yeah,” I said, “but it’s gonna be awkward when she finds out I don’t know it.”
“Well, you’ve gotta be subtle about it. This is your first test.” She smiled mysteriously and turned to go back in the house.
***
I loaded up the horse in the trailer with some difficulty, as she couldn’t be bothered to get up and come out of her stall without a ton of coaxing. In the end, it took the lure of crushed apples covered in cinnamon and ginger to get her out of the stable and into the trailer, and even then she glared at me, looking pissed, as if I had lied to her about where we were going.
“Nice and easy there, Bessie,” I told her as I patted her sleek mane. “You’re doing so good. Just a few minutes more. You won’t even have to walk that much further.”
Bessie snorted as if to say I had lost all credibility and nothing more I said could be trusted.
I closed up the trailer and climbed into the van. By the time we reached the clinic about ten minutes later, it had started to rain. Fat raindrops splashed against the windshield and formed puddles on the sidewalk. It was one of those late-spring Texas storms that become vanishingly rare as you move into summer, when the ground cracks and the grass withers and you begin to wonder whether you’ll ever see rain again.
To my surprise, the girl was waiting for me at the receptionist’s desk.
“What are you doing in here?” I asked, gawking at her. “Are you literally the only person who works here?”
“Lately, yeah,” she said with a grin. “My boss has done run off, and the lady who usually sits here is out for the week, feeling ‘under the weather.’ I’m pretty much stuck here by myself examinin’ dogs and answerin’ phones.”
There was something so cute about the way she dropped her g’s when she talked. I knew she hadn’t lived here for very long, but she spoke like a native. I wondered if she even knew she was doing it. I’d have loved to have heard what she sounded like before she moved down here.
“Anyway,” she said, “what can I do for you today?”
“Well, I’ve got a two-ton animal in the back of the van,” I said, gesturing to the parking lot. “Mind if I bring her in?”
“Go right ahead,” said the girl. “You gonna need any help?”
“No, I think I got it. Hardest part’s gonna be convincing her to come out of there when it’s raining like this.”
“Well, you have my prayers and sympathies,” she said dryly.
Slowly, with much effort and the promise of more apples, I managed to coax Bessie out of the truck and through the door of the clinic. When the girl saw her, she came over and bent her head sympathetically.
“Hey, Bessie,” she said, in the sort of voice you’d use to address a cat. “You feelin’ better? Let’s get you into the office and have a look at you. We’re gonna make you all better, okay? You cool with that?”
Bessie snorted as if to suggest that she didn’t appreciate being talked down to.
“You gonna respond, Bessie?” I said in a teasing voice. “Look at the nice lady. Can you say her name?”
“Say ‘Allie,’” said the girl slowly, saying what I assumed was her name. “All-ie!”
If she’d looked at me just then, she would have seen me grinning.
“Well, no luck getting her to speak English,” said Allie, straightening up. “Not today, anyway.”
“Baby steps,” I said.
While Allie was X-raying the horse in the doctor’s office, I fumbled around for something to talk about. “Weather’s gettin’ real bad out there,” I said.
The weather? Really? I thought to myself. Was I really trying to talk to her about the weather?
“Yeah, and it’s supposed to be even worse down near the coast,” said Allie. “It’s like a miniature hurricane, and it’s not even hurricane season. I bet Dave will have to cut his trip short and come home early.”
“You’re doing a remarkably good job of filling in for him,” I said. “You say you don’t know your way around the office, but here you are, X-raying a horse like you’re feeding a baby!”
Allie laughed and tossed her head back. “Well, I’ve learned a thing or two from watching him. The stuff I don’t know, I can just look up on Wikipedia.” She added in a whisper, “But don’t tell him I said that!”
I pretended to reach into my pocket for my phone, and Allie laughed again.
“Anyhoo,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck where it was sunburned. “If he does come back in the next day or so, I guess we won’t get to have that riding lesson.”
So much depended on how she responded to this simple statement. To my immense relief, she smiled. “I can still come out there,” she said in a flirty voice. “Don’t need his permission to make a friendly house call.”
I put a lid on my excitement so as not to freak her out, but inside I was beaming.
“Anyway, it’s a really beautiful piece of land,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to go inside, but I’m sure it’s just as lovely inside. Your mom takes real good care of her property. Does she live up there by herself?”
“No, my dad lives there,” I said. “And my brother, Zach. He’s sort of the black sheep of the family—just sits in his man-cave playing video games at all hours of the night. Can’t be bothered to go out and find himself a girlfriend.” Why was I babbling about my idiot brother?
“There’s one in every family, let me tell you,” said Allie. “If I ever find myself a better-paying job, I’d love to live somewhere like that. Preferably without the man-cave and the kid brother, obviously.”
“That’s why you’ve gotta do a home inspection before you move in,” I said with a wink. “Sometimes the realtors try to slip in one of those kid brothers without telling you.”
“Yeah, they’re a real pest,” said Allie. “If you wanna get rid of ‘em, you’ve gotta fumigate the house and maybe take away their Wi-Fi.”
“By the way,” I couldn’t resist adding, “if you’re really looking for a place to live, my mom’s thinking about renting the tiny house in the back pasture.”
I probably shouldn’t have brought it up without asking Mama, but no way was I going to pass up an opportunity like that. I hoped I didn’t look too eager as I said it.
“Hmmm, I might have to look into that,” said Allie. “Your folks seem like decent people, and like I said, I like the land. It’d be nice to watch the storms roll in over the prairie on rainy afternoons. Mind if I come by and have a look sometime this week, maybe when we have our lesson?”
“Not at all,” I said, trying to sound subdued and failing pretty miserably. “You can come by at any time.”
“I get off early tomorrow, but I’m meeting a friend for dinner,” said Allie. “After that, we’ll probably walk around the square a bit; Lindsay likes to go antiquing on the weekends. Is that what you call it here? Antiquing? But I’m free all day Saturday, so if it’s alright with your parents, I might show up in the morning.”<
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“It’s fine with me,” I said. “I reckon I’d better give them a heads-up first, but I can’t imagine it being a problem. They usually stay in on Saturdays and cook a late breakfast. Depending on how Bessie’s feeling, we might be able to ride her.”
“She doesn’t seem to be doing that badly, actually.” Allie motioned to a couple of X-rays hanging on the wall. “Looks like I was right yesterday about there not being anything broken, though I don’t think it was a bee sting. It looks more like a simple strain. That’s pretty easily remedied with some anti-inflammatory medication, which I can give to you up front.”
She led me and the horse back into the main office, where she signed off on Bessie’s medication and gave us the bill for the visit. I didn’t look at it, not wanting to have the glow of the trip dampened just yet.
But as I was leading Bessie back out into the rainy parking lot, with Allie watching from the doorway, I realized what a disaster the inside of the tiny house was.
“I’ve gotta get that cleaned up,” I said low in Bessie’s ear as I strapped her into the trailer. “Better get Darren to help me.” He wouldn’t be too happy about it, but I was his brother, and he owed me a few favors. What was he going to do: say no?
“See you in a couple of days,” said Allie, waving. “I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Me, too,” I said. With a tip of my hat, I climbed into the truck, and we took off.
Chapter Eight
Allie
After Curtis left, I didn’t get any more customers for the rest of the day, except for a thirty-something woman in a green sweater whose cat had been behaving in a paranoid manner. With the office empty but for me and Tomas, I turned on the news at half-volume and ran through our conversation in my head like I was rewinding a film. Had I been too awkward? Too dorky? If I had, he didn’t seem to have noticed.
At around closing time, I made myself a poncho out of a black trash bag I found in a box in the storage closet and ran to my car. Once safely inside, I called Lindsay.
“Hey,” she said. “How’s work?”
“So-so. Dave didn’t leave me a whole lot to do, so I’m mostly just sitting in a dark office watching the rain fall.”
“You seen the boy lately?”
“He has a name,” I said. “And yes, Curtis rolled in with the storm this morning and stayed for about an hour.”
“Sounds very Gothic and spooky,” said Lindsay. “Listen, I’d love to chat, but we’re about to start UIL practice. Are we still on for tomorrow night?”
“Yeah, let’s go to Tapas!”
“K. Meet you at six.” She hung up.
***
Because the next day was a half-day, I closed up the clinic at noon and spent the next couple of hours at home drinking kombucha and watching a series about haunted castles on Netflix. I tried to stay focused, but it was getting to the part where whenever I did anything, I wondered how he would react. Would he mind that I was sort of a nerd? That I liked listening to Enya and reading books with titles like The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society? Or would he think it was unbearably elitist and preppy?
Come to think of it, I didn’t have any idea what sort of things he was into. Just based on the way he dressed, I figured he probably liked listening to The Eagles and watching professional wrestling. Fairly low-brow entertainment, but I could put up with it when I had to. I had a roommate in college who listened to Queen nonstop. I hadn’t heard many Eagles songs, but I figured they couldn’t be that different.
Lindsay came bounding in right at six, just as I was finishing feeding the cats.
“Hey, Lindsay,” I said. “Do you ever have second thoughts about dating a guy?”
“Rarely,” said Lindsay. “We go out, we hopefully have a good time, and if that’s all we do, it’s no problem. I don’t feel obligated to call him in the morning.” She threw me a shrewd look. “Are you having second thoughts?”
I frowned at myself in the mirror as I struggled to pin up my hair. “No, I just wonder if we’re really compatible. Like, what if we don’t like the same things?”
Lindsay took me by the arms and spun me around. “Okay, your problem is you’re thinking way too hard about this. Just because he invited you over to his house doesn’t mean you’re getting married. You don’t have to start picking out curtains.”
“But what if this leads to something more serious? I think I’m really starting to like this guy.”
“You’ve hung out with him for a grand total of approximately two hours,” said Lindsay, motioning to the alarm clock on the nightstand. “You might spend more time together and realize he’s not The One. And that’s okay! In the meantime, you’ll have a good time together.”
I winced. It was hard to accept that you probably weren’t going to spend the rest of your life with the guy you really liked.
We went to Tapas. Over appetizers of sautéed asparagus and chicken wings with blue cheese dressing, I gave her the exciting news.
“The other really cool thing,” I said, trying not to sound too excited about it, “is that his mom might be renting out the tiny house on their property.”
“Oh?” said Lindsay, sipping some of the foam off of her mug of frothy ale. “Is that what you want?”
She didn’t sound all that enthused about it. It was disappointing. “Don’t you think that’s cool?” I couldn’t help asking.
“Sure, if you think that’s best,” said Lindsay. “I just don’t know if living with some dude’s mom is living your best life, especially if y’all just met.”
“I wouldn’t be living with his mom,” I said, starting to feel offended. “I would be living on her property. It’s different.”
“I don’t know, Allie.” She set down her mug and glanced thoughtfully down at the table, waving her thumbs nervously. “Living in a tiny house on some old lady’s farm, way out in the boons? I just think if you meet a guy and immediately move onto his mom’s property, you’re giving up all your power. And then what happens if you break up? Are you just going to go on living there?”
That was a fair point. I hadn’t thought of it like that. “I guess I’d have to look for a new place to live. Maybe that studio apartment you were talking about.”
“You ought to just go ahead and move there now,” said Lindsay, taking a swig of her glass. “Then when he comes over, he’ll have a nice place to visit.”
When she put it like that, it sounded like she didn’t approve of the place where I lived now, but I let it go.
Sensing my discomfort, Lindsay smiled. “I am excited for you, truly. You both sound adorably awkward, and I can’t wait to meet him in person.”
“We are quite awkward,” I said. “Or at least I am; I don’t know about him. I keep worrying that I’m going to say the wrong thing. I wish I was wearing an earpiece when we talked so you could feed me lines.”
“You don’t need an earpiece,” said Lindsay. “But when we get home in a few minutes, I’ll give you some pointers on being less awkward, just so you’re not freaking out on your next date.”
When we got back to the house, I straightened and brushed my hair while River curled up in my lap and Lindsay painted my nails. “Okay,” she said, “so you know that thing you do where someone asks you a question and you sit there for like a minute with your mouth open, going, ‘Uhhhh…?’”
“Do I do that?”
“You do. But don’t do that. Also, not everything I say needs to be met with a Friends reference. Leave Ross and Phoebe back in the ‘90s where they belong.”
“This is a lot to remember,” I said with a deep breath. “Somehow I feel even more panicky.”
Lindsay lowered herself to eye level and placed her hands on my shoulders. “Look, just be yourself, and you’ll be fine. And cover your mouth so I can’t see your uvula; it’s like a cave in there.”
I flung my hand over my mouth, blushing scarlet.
After she left, I lay in bed for a couple of hours stroking Phoenix
and River and struggling to read one of the Phryne Fisher novels. But it was late, my eyes were too tired, and I was having trouble concentrating. After about twenty pages, I realized I had only the haziest notion of what was going on—I think there had been a jewelry robbery—and I set the book down on the nightstand.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I said to the gently purring River, who was sprawled on my chest. “This guy seems great, and I really like him, but we just met, and I don’t actually know anything about him.”
When we went out riding, I’d have to think of some clever way to grill him on his favorite books and music and TV, but in a subtle way so he didn’t suspect. And what if he didn’t like reading? What if he only watched reality shows on MTV? That would be depressing, and probably a deal-breaker, but I promised myself I would wait before I passed judgment. Perhaps, I thought as I shoved the cats off and turned over, perhaps by some miracle he would turn out to be the most cultured person in east Texas.
Chapter Nine
Curtis
On Saturday, I woke up at around eight. After a quick shower, I fed the dog and watered the plants while I waited for Mom and Dad to get up. Mom texted me at around nine to let me know I was good to come over. “Making a huge breakfast,” she wrote, “and the sooner you get here, the warmer it’ll be.”
I hollered after Jake, and he came running down the hall, looking as excited as I felt. We got into the truck and took off.
When I walked through the door of the house a few minutes later, I was immediately hit by the aroma of frying eggs and bacon. Dad was sitting in his usual spot by the window at the kitchen table reading the morning newspaper; somehow the clean-up effort in the Gulf had just made the oil spill worse. Darren lay on his back in the couch with his eyes closed tight and his nose in the air like a man who was about to be buried.
I flinched when I saw him. He must have come over the night before because he was afraid he’d sleep through our appointment if he didn’t. How was I going to explain to Mom and Dad what he was doing here?