Winning Odds Trilogy

by MaryAnn Myers

  He observed Spears out of the corner of his eye. The man was checking his suit-coat sleeve, dusting it off. Yes, the table wasn’t all that clean, but it wasn’t all that dirty either. And why was he wearing a suit anyway?

  He looked at Dusty, sitting there looking at his notes. Dusty glanced up and smiled when another trainer entered the room.

  “Hey!”

  “Hey, Dusty.”

  “Hey, Ben, Tom.”

  They nodded and waved to the man.

  Ben looked at Wendy; she too was scanning her notes. Tom pointed to the second item on her list. “Forget Me Nots?”

  She smiled. “In Evangeline, Longfellow wrote, “Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of Heaven, blossom the lovely stars, the Forget-Me-Nots of the angels.”

  “Okay….” Tom said. “That’s pretty, but….” He motioned to the next two items on the list. Windows cleaned. Find new storage area for boxes. He looked at her, really looked at her, perhaps looked at her too long, not enough, just enough, because he found himself literally almost forgetting what he was about to say. “How do Forget-Me-Nots figure in?”

  “Well, when I was looking out at the racetrack from the window up above, I thought how pretty it would be to have Forget-Me-Nots planted all around in front of the tote board. They’re perennials and take little watering. Actually they’re rather prolific, but that would be the point. They would keep growing. And they’re blue, like blue grass, Kentucky, racetrack, Thoroughbreds, stars, heavenly stars….”

  Tom smiled, Ben smiled, Dusty smiled, even Spears smiled.

  “Now would be a good time to plant them,” Wendy said.

  Ben liked that idea. It had a positive feel to it, a promising feel, a feeling of hope for the future. It was a good feeling. He nodded. “Then get it done.”

  “Thank you, I will.”

  Ben looked around the table. “Getting back to the offices, I think I agree with Dawn. Those offices down the hall are too small.”

  Spears heaved a sigh of relief.

  “They would not be welcoming and I want an open-door policy.” He looked at Spears.

  The man hesitated. “If I had my choice, I’d stay where I’m at.” He could see right off Ben didn’t like that answer. “But, I can see how my being more accessible could be a good thing, a positive move. I don’t think I need to be involved in the day-to-day goings on down here, but.…”

  Tom and Dusty both shifted their weight. It was like a standoff.

  “All right, let’s look at it this way,” Ben said. “Saying we close the third floor, totally. Of the two locations, that big room back there or the windowed one upstairs, which would you choose?”

  When Spears hesitated again, Ben looked at Wendy. “Which one would you pick?”

  Wendy paused, lowering her eyes to her notes. “Okay,” she said. “This may be far-fetched, but since both the first and second floors are completely open and going to stay open, why can’t we set up in both.” She drew a breath, gaining momentum as she went along. “Why can’t we set up what would be a very accessible office down here in the big room, one that the horsemen would feel comfortable visiting if they have concerns, and.…” She glanced around the table. “Then one upstairs that would give Mr. Spears the privacy and quiet he needs, plus the professional setting conducive to receiving clients, meeting with the advertisers, the heavy-hitters, the people who could care less about the horses and only see dollars. And even better up there, if the windows clean up and they can see out, maybe, just maybe, they’ll start thinking differently, and Mr. Spears, you would start thinking differently, and….”

  When she fell quiet, fearing she may have overstepped her bounds, Tom looked at her with a most serious expression on his face. “Wendy, will you marry me?”

  She smiled, blushed and then chuckled, all seemingly at the same time. “Can we at least date first?”

  “Sure,” Tom said, “Dinner, tonight at Ben’s, seven o’clock.”

  Wendy laughed. “I’m already there.”

  It seemed a good time to end the meeting.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Dawn took a long hot shower, washed and dried her hair, and took a nap with the children. She fell into such a deep sleep, she dreamed one dream after another, unusual for her during a nap. When she opened her eyes, she gazed at her little ones, miracles; considering the doctors had predicted she’d never have children. She touched D.R’s soft hand, marveled over Maeve’s long eyelashes, and both with such red hair. She planted a kisses on their little button noses and slid her arm out from underneath the pillow.

  The children’s nanny, Carol, had offered to go to the grocery store and picked up everything for dinner, steaks, baking potatoes, hard crusty rolls. Randy was expected to be home to do the grilling. Dawn was going to make a salad. Glenda was bringing dessert.

  “Oh, and Wendy called,” Carol said. “She’s bringing a fruit salad.”

  “Awesome.”

  “What do you think of her?” Carol asked.

  “I like her,” Dawn said.

  Carol nodded. “Tom seems to like her.”

  “I know. It’s scary.” Dawn grabbed a jacket hanging at the back door and stepped into a pair of dry boots. “I’ll be back in a little bit.” She followed a well-worn path to the main barn, checked on All Together and the horses there, then walked to the stallion barn to say hello to Beau and Hurry Sandy. Both had been napping. “Sorry,” she said, tiptoeing out. “Go back to sleep.”

  When Beau slept, for the most part, he lay flat out, and snored. Hurry Sandy slept all curled up like a deer and breathed so soft. Dawn approached the foaling barn quietly, thinking the ponies might be taking advantage of the lazy afternoon and napping as well. But they were both awake, standing at the back of their stalls.

  She checked the pasture, probably too wet, she thought, and figured she’d turn them out in the sand paddock. At least they could roll and run if they felt like it, get a little sun on their bony backs. She put on their halters and debated which one to turn out first. She didn’t want to show favoritism. When the foals on the farm are about a month old, they are taught to walk on a lead next to their mothers and were led out of the barn together that way. It transferred over into the same learned behavior pattern when they became weanlings and were led out of the barn two at a time, each with another weanling they’d grown up with.

  She put lead shanks on both ponies, led Poncho out into the aisle, stopped in front of Biscuit’s stall, led him out and walked them outside in tandem. They both stood looking at the pastures, looking at the horses grazing, looking at each other. When Poncho nipped at Biscuit, she laughed. It had never occurred to Dawn that they might not like one another.

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” She led them into the sand paddock, turned them both to face her, which they did in a very well-behaved manner. She unsnapped the lead shanks, turning them loose, and they both just stood there. “Go!” she said. “Go play!”

  They stood there still. It wasn’t until she waved their lead shanks and clicked to them that they walked away, and even then they kept looking back at her unsure of what to do. Just about the time Dawn started worrying that there might be something wrong with them, Poncho dropped to his knees and rolled. He rolled and he rolled and he rolled and moaned and rolled, and rolled some more. Biscuit walked around the paddock, looking wary and then started snorting, head raised high and mane blowing in the wind.

  If it weren’t for his ribs sticking out and his tailbone prominent, he would almost be considered beautiful. Dawn walked out of the paddock and latched the gate none too soon. When Poncho rose to his feet, shook off the sand, and whinnied, the yearlings in the pasture below whinnied back and Biscuit took off running.

  “Oh no!” For a split second, Dawn feared he was going to try to jump the five-foot fence. He put on the brakes at the last possible moment, bucked and kicked out, and he and Poncho started cantering round and round in the paddock.

 
; Glenda was in the hayshed loading up the flatbed and came to see what all the commotion was about. “Well, look at them!”

  Dawn smiled. They had every horse in all the pastures running and whinnying. “It’s like they’re happy just to be alive,” Dawn said.

  “And loved,” Glenda added.

  When the ponies finally stopped running in circles and all the other horses settled down and went back to grazing, it was Biscuit’s turn to roll, and roll and roll. He had an odd way of rolling. “I’ve never seen a horse do that,” Dawn said.

  “Me neither,” Glenda said.

  He would roll on one side, then raise his hind end up, crawl on his knees a step or two, then back down he’d go on the other side, and roll some more. When he finally stood on all fours, Dawn heaved a sigh of relief.

  The yearlings were wide-eyed and watching their every move, waiting for another reason to start running again no doubt. Running around was fine for them down in pastures where there was better drainage. In the pasture up here, there was standing water everywhere.

  “I was planning to turn them out on grass today,” Dawn said, smiling as she motioned to the stallion barn, where Beau had his head out his window, sniffing the air. “They’re geldings, Beau, geldings.”

  The two women stood looking at all the horses, stood gazing at the farm, stood taking it all in and enjoying the sunny, warm afternoon breeze.

  “Well, back to work,” Glenda said, wiping her brow. When she walked back to the hayshed, Dawn went back into the foaling barn and picked out the ponies’ stalls and checked their water. She decided to sweep the aisle way then and recalled the moments when each of the foals were born here.

  “Randy…” she remembered saying when All Together seemed to be struggling with giving birth to Born All Together. “Help her.”

  “She’s fine,” he’d said, waiting patiently outside the stall. “She’s fine.”

  Moments later, Batgirl entered the world. “Oh, Randy….”

  When Dawn heard a nicker sounding close by, she walked out to check on the ponies. They were both standing at the gate. “Do you want in already?” It was sad to think of them being so appreciative of the little bit of time they’d had outside. But then she looked again, paying closer attention. They were both staring at the grass on both sides of the path leading back to the barn.

  She opened the gate, secured their lead shanks, and led them out of the paddock. They practically pulled her to the grass and started grazing as if their very lives depended on it. “Slow down, slow down,” she said, glancing at her watch. “I don’t want you getting belly aches. Ten minutes and you’re going in. You’ll get more tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Wendy walked through the grandstand, judging reactions to the “Beau Born” video. It was all positive. People stopped, they looked - they listened. Comments such as “Pretty horse, I remember that horse, I think that’s the new owner’s horse, that’s nice, look how big he is…” peppered throughout. Wendy had to admit, she didn’t realize how big a racehorse could be either. She was amazed too.

  Tom had positioned himself by the monitor near the claiming booth just outside the paddock so he could gauge the horsemen’s opinion of the video. It was somewhat mixed, but leaning more toward positive. He heard, “What the hell, Beau looks good, what else would you expect, are you a movie star now, Tom?”

  Jack Burke, the complainer, walked over next to him. Tom smiled. “That’s not exactly my best performance.”

  Jack laughed. “You looking to claim something?”

  “No.”

  The horses were just entering the paddock. Both men turned. “I’ll fight you for that one,” Jack said.

  “Do you want to step outside?”

  “We are outside.”

  The two men laughed.

  “Seriously,” Jack said. “Are you guys allowed to claim anymore?”

  “We haven’t claimed any for years. We’re not interested.”

  When Tom walked back to the barn and relayed the conversation Ben just shook his head. Tom sat down next to him. “What’s the matter, old man? You look worried about something.”

  “Well.” Ben looked at him. “I was just sitting here thinking of how nice it was when all I had to think about was this barn right here.”

  “Oh, not this again,” Tom said, the two constantly reminding one another of their shortcomings.

  “Maybe I’m trying to do too much. Maybe I should just let Spears do his job. What does it matter where he does it, upstairs, downstairs?”

  “It matters, and you know it. Why are you second guessing yourself?”

  “Because I’m an old man.”

  “A wise old man,” Tom said. “And come this time next year, if the doors are closed and you didn’t do it your way, you’re still going to be an old man and then who are you going to blame?”

  Ben laughed. “You.”

  Tom shrugged. “I can take it, but only if we’ve done our best and the Lord willing.”

  Ben sighed.

  “All these years you’ve been saying how they should be doing this and doing that and here you are doing it. Come on, you’re doing the best you can do.”

  Ben looked at him.

  “And I for one would like to see this all put to a rest. No more doubts, no more second guessing. Forge ahead.” Tom stood up. “And now, since that’s all settled, I’m going to the crapper. There’s one just up the way with my name on it.”

  Ben laughed. A few minutes later, one of the stable guards stopped by “Just to say hello.” After that, the blacksmith came by to check B-Bo. Grain was delivered. The muck bin was emptied. The timer on the coffee pot didn’t go off. It was a perfect racetrack afternoon.

  From all directions they came, first Glenda and George, then Dawn and Randy, along with the children and Carol. Tom was already home, as was Ben. Dusty arrived next, then Wendy, and then Cracker Jack. Randy grilled the steaks outside on the back porch, Tom made a pot of decaf coffee, Dusty filled the water glasses, Glenda and Wendy set the table, Dawn and Carol fed the children.

  Dawn stuck her head out the door to ask Randy, “Did you bring their headsets?”

  “Yes,” he said. “They’re on top of the fridge.”

  They had a sizable library of children’s movies stacked on the end table. “Which one do you want to see?” Carol asked.

  “Dinosaur! Dinosaur!” D.R. said.

  “Yes! Yes! Dine-thor!” Maeve said. They both ran to the couch, Maeve hugging her favorite “Dolly,” and D.R. sporting his stuffed animal dinosaur hat, perched way low down on his eyes the way Tom wore his cowboy hat.

  Carol “plugged them in” as she called it. “D.R., get your finger out of your nose.”

  “It’s dinosaur nose. It itches!”

  “Then rub the outside.”

  “Steaks are ready!” If anyone wanted them well done, they were out of luck. Randy brought the platter in and set it down in the middle of the table with great pomp and circumstance. “A masterpiece!” Everyone sat down and started helping themselves, steak, baked potato, tossed salad, fruit salad, rolls.

  “Looks delicious,” Cracker Jack said. In his day, as a local celebrity, he’d hosted a sports talk radio program, loved the “ponies,” and was a crackerjack of a handicapper, hence his nickname. He stood over six-foot-six and was skinny as a rail. He had an abundance of wiry shoulder-length white hair. Quite a character; was the term most commonly used to describe him. He and Ben went way back.

  “Fifty some years,” Ben said.

  Cracker Jack retired to Florida but still visited his son Jeff who was a trainer at Nottingham Downs with nine horses. Cracker Jack knew just about everything going on at the track, thanks to his son, and jumped right into the discussion at the dinner table.

  “I hear tell Billy Martin’s funeral was quite the spectacle.”

  “It was grand,” Tom said. “A real proper sendoff.”

  “And who’s this lovely lady?” Cracker
Jack asked, smiling at Wendy.

  “Don’t you be flirting with her,” Tom said.

  Cracker Jack laughed. He was Ben’s age. “I’m considered quite harmless unless you talk to the widows at the retirement complex.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “This is Wendy.” Tom said, “Nottingham Downs Assistant General Manager.”

  Wendy blushed. “Actually, I’m the administrative assistant to the General Manager.”

  Ben looked at Tom, then Dawn, and then Wendy and smiled. “No, I think Tom had it right.”

  Dawn waved her fork. “I agree.”

  “All right, then so it is,” Ben said.

  “Just like that?” Wendy asked.

  Ben nodded. “Just like that.”

  Wendy smiled. “Can I be the one to tell Mr. Spears?”

  They all laughed. “You bet,” Ben said.

  “I remembered when they hired Spears,” Cracker Jack said. “If I recall correctly….”

  A phone rang in Wendy’s purse sitting on the kitchen counter. “Do you want me to get it for you?” Tom asked, being the closest.

  Wendy glanced around the table. “Well, we’re all here and that’s Ben’s new phone. No one else has the number yet.”

  “Then let it ring,” Ben said. “Wait a minute. How is it that it sounds like a phone?”

  “It’s a retro ring,” Wendy said.

  They all sat listening; fourth ring and whoever it was hung up. Ben motioned for the sour cream. Randy passed it to him and glanced over his shoulder at the children. “D.R., quit,” he said, laughing. He was picking Maeve’s dolly’s nose now. “I have serious concerns about that child.”

  Dawn shook her head. “You have to stop laughing when he does things like that. It only encourages him.”

  Carol sighed. “When they grow up, I fear my resume`.”

  Everyone laughed.