Winning Odds Trilogy

by MaryAnn Myers

  “He says it could be.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “Well, he’s taking a wait and see approach. All her blood work came back good. She’s eating, drinking a fair amount of water.” George glanced at the chart. “Though not as much as usual.”

  Randy Sr. stood looking in at her. “Gosh, she’s a pretty mare. I like gray horses; I always have.”

  George nodded. “Me too. I used to bet all the gray horses at the trotters. It could be just me, but it seems there’s a lot more gray Standardbreds than Thoroughbreds.”

  “Did you work with trotters?”

  “Oh yeah, for years. Glenda too.”

  “Speaking of which….”

  Glenda pulled into the drive and stopped close to the barn. “I’m taking the pies up to the house. Then I’ll go take care of the yearlings.” The dogs took off after her. Randy Sr. helped George hay and water the other broodmares and from there they rode the tractor down to the stallion barn. Upon their arrival Beau Born bellowed his wild stallion mating call and they laughed and shook their heads. He was always on the lookout for a rogue mare coming to pay a visit.

  “I hear him sometimes at night,” Randy Sr. said.

  “Me too,” George and Glenda’s house was even further than Randy’s parents’ home. It was a quarter of a mile the other side of T-Bone’s place. “If there’s no wind and the night is perfectly still, I swear I can hear him taking a piss. I know it’s him because of his big groan at the end.”

  Randy Sr. laughed. “He is proud of his plumbing, isn’t it?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  Beau nipped at George and playfully tossed his head. Beau stood 16.3 hands high and probably weighed somewhere around 1250 pounds. Bright-penny chestnut, he had a white snip, wild and crazy mane and forelock, thick jowls, and a thick stud neck. When he raised his head, he looked ten feet tall.

  Randy Sr. peered into the next stall as he filled the mare’s water bucket. Hurry Sandy was Beau’s pasture mate, a barren mare with a no-muss, no-fuss attitude. She wasn’t much to look at but was really kind and gentle with people, especially children whom she apparently adored. Even when they didn’t bring her carrots, she was still happy to see them. It’s Beau that she gave a hard time to, in spite of him dwarfing her in size. She was alpha mare and took her job seriously.

  “It’s amazing,” Randy Sr. said. “And he listens.”

  George laughed. “Don’t we all?”

  “Yes. It’s the safest way.”

  “All kidding aside, it works out good for Beau,” George said. “It’s not often stallions are allowed to graze with mares. She’s made him a kinder breeder. Because of her, he respects the mares. He’s got one thing on his mind when it comes to breeding and that’s getting the job done, but he’s kinda sweet about it. I took care of a stallion a few years back that liked to almost kill the mares. We had to muzzle him and everything.”

  Ben pulled up the driveway and parked in his usual space by the main barn. Tom pulled in right behind him. As both got out and walked toward the stallion barn, Linda pulled in and drove past them, holding up a bag for all of them to see. East Coast Original Ice Cream to go with the pies. Dinner and dessert: covered.

  Randy arrived home next and, following him, Wendy and Gordon. Gordon walked to Randy Sr. and Liz’s house while Wendy washed up. She welcomed the time alone to gather herself. “Everything’s going to be all right,” she kept saying. “Matthew’s going to be just fine.”

  There was lots of hugging and kissing when she arrived. She hadn’t seen Liz and Randy Sr. for weeks and Linda and little Maria for months. There were also tears shed. Tom put his arm around her. “You okay?”

  She nodded, wiping her eyes. “I’m fine.”

  Everyone sat down to eat.

  The little ones were dotted throughout. Maria sat between her mother and Tom, Maeve between Dawn and Liz, and D.R. between his two “Grandpas” Ben and Randy Sr. He’d turned into a finicky eater and ate best when not sitting next to Dawn or Carol.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Ben said, when they had all gotten their plates full and the passing of dishes had ceased. “We need to come up with a name for T-Bone’s place.”

  “Whatever it is,” Dawn said, “It can’t sound like a nursing home. Uncle Matt ran into a brick wall with zoning.”

  “I don’t like those people,” Ben said. “How can they stop a person from putting up a sign on their own property?”

  “Well.…” Dawn looked at Wendy, both she and Ben trying to get her engaged in the conversation to take her mind of Matthew, even if just for a few minutes.

  Wendy hesitated. “They can’t stop you from putting it on the house.”

  “They can’t?” Ben asked.

  “No. Matt said you can make the sign as big as you want.”

  “All right, I’m okay with that. So what are we going to call it?” He motioned for Gordon to pass him the grated cheese. “Are you hogging that all to yourself?”

  Gordon chuckled.

  Ben shook a whole bunch of cheese on his spaghetti, dared anyone to say a word with a glance, and then passed it back. “Well?”

  No one had any suggestions. Either that or they were too busy eating, even the children. Tom laughed at Maria imitating him twirling his spaghetti. “You got it, little one,” he said. “Look at you go.” Everyone at the table chuckled. She was so proud when she got it all in her mouth. So cute.

  “What’s wrong with just calling it T-Bone’s Place?” Gordon asked. “I kinda like that. I like thinking about the old man every time someone says his name. And it is going to be for old people.” Everyone looked at him. Gordon and Matthew had spent the past two summers at T-Bone’s place and had grown to really care about the old man, cranky, opinionated, and all. “I think he’d like that.”

  Brenda agreed. Dawn agreed. Randy nodded. They all agreed.

  “Well then,” Ben said. “Can I see a show of hands?” They’d gotten into this formality at dinners when deciding anything important or equally unimportant for that matter. Everyone raised their hands, even Maeve, D.R. and Maria. “Okay, T-Bone’s Place it is.”

  They all went back to eating. “How’s come you don’t have a farm name, Ben?” Linda asked.

  Ben paused. “Meg and I were thinking about one but then she took ill, and….”

  “What was it?” Dawn asked.

  “Well, mind you, we had the horses, but we weren’t breeding to any outside mares until then, so….”

  Everyone looked at him.

  “But now with Beau, I probably should think of something else, I just can’t seem to bring myself to….”

  “What was the name?” Dawn asked.

  Ben looked at her and hesitated.

  “It’s all right,” she said, reaching over and squeezing his hand. His eyes had instantly filled with tears. One look and so did D.R.’s.

  “Grandpa,” D.R. said. “What’s the matter, Grandpa?”

  Maeve and Maria looked at him with the same sudden concern in their eyes for their “Grandpa.”

  ‘It’s okay,” Ben said. “I’m okay.” He paused and drew a deep breath, looking from one child to the next and then the adults. “We were going to call it Meg’s Meadows. Meg loved the Meadows.”

  “It’s perfect,” Linda said. “She’s everywhere here.”

  They all nodded in agreement. “Let’s see a show of hands,” Randy said.

  Everyone raised their hands, the little ones too.

  Ben smiled. “Then ‘Meg’s Meadows’ it is.”

  They all sighed collectively and went back to eating.

  “Can we make a real big sign?” Ben asked.

  Wendy nodded. “Yep, and you can put that one right out front.”

  Having communal meals just about every evening here at the farm started by accident. Someone was trying to cheer someone up, they all put together a meal, and it became a habit they all enjoyed. When T-Bone would join them, he’d always bring beef jerky. No matter
the menu, beef jerky was his contribution. The old man died at home in the middle of the night, the way he always said he wanted to go. He hated the thought of going to an old folks’ home, said he’d jump off a bridge first, so it was rather ironic that his old homestead was being turned into a haven for the old-timers from the racetrack.

  “So, Linda,” Glenda said. “Do you think you’ll move back home for good?”

  “I don’t know,” Linda said. “They paid really well at Erie.”

  “So you’re saying you don’t think we pay well?” Tom joked. “Who told you that?”

  “Plus you know just about everybody here,” George said.

  “I know, and I think that’s the biggest problem. I didn’t have any of that at Erie. I liked myself there. I had no past. It’s hard to leave the past behind when you see it in everyone else’s eyes.”

  They all just looked at her. She’d grown so much the past couple of years and they were all so proud of her.

  “That and the health care in Canada is great. Maria gets all her shots and….”

  “I don’t want shots,” Maria said, bottom lip pouting. “I don’t want shots.”

  “No-no-no, that’s not what Mommy’s saying.”

  They all chuckled at the look of instant relief on Maria’s face.

  “It’s just a big decision,” Linda said. “I appreciate you letting me work today, and I’ll do everything I can to help. Joe’s a trip, by the way. I don’t recall him being so paranoid.”

  “I’m a little concerned about him,” Ben said. Understood at the table was that nothing said ever left the table. They could all speak freely and not fear it might be repeated elsewhere. “I mean he’s always been a little odd, but he seems to be even odder lately.”

  “He told me that a pixie came to see him today.”

  “A pixie?” Tom said.

  “Yep, that’s what he said.”

  “Yeah, well Junior said a pumpkin visited him this afternoon.”

  “A pumpkin?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “You know, I thought I saw someone dressed like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz the other morning,” Dusty said.

  Everyone looked at one another.

  “Where? At the office or on the backside?” Randy asked.

  “The backside.”

  “Was it someone you know?” Ben asked.

  “No.” Dusty shook his head. “I figured it was some owner’s kid, just dressing funny. I really didn’t think twice about it till you two mentioned the pixie and the pumpkin.”

  When Wendy’s cellphone rang, they all fell silent. She looked at caller ID. “It’s the hospital. Hello.”

  “Hey, Mom, it’s Matthew.”

  “It’s Matthew. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just remembered something. I was in a car accident.”

  “Yes, Son, you were.”

  “I don’t remember what happened, but I remember the sound of breaking glass. I didn’t hit anyone, did I?”

  “No.” She looked around the room, implying everything was okay. “Fortunately you just hit a pole.”

  “Ah, I see. Good.”

  “Did you remember my cellphone number?”

  Matthew hesitated. “No, but you wrote it on the blackboard.”

  “Oh that’s right, I did.” Wendy smiled.

  “The nurse dialed it for me. I’m going to take a nap now. Bye.”

  “Bye, Son.” She hung up the call and glanced at everyone and shrugged. “Apparently he remembers being in an accident. He says he remembers the sound of breaking glass, but that’s all. That’s good, right?”

  “Yes,” Randy said. “I’m assuming his memory will come back a little at a time.”

  “When I see him tomorrow I think I’ll tell him he blew a date with Rosie Davidson at the Beer Brew,” Gordon said.

  “Who?”

  “Just kidding, Mom. Trust me, you don’t want to know. Remember that song about the cocktail waitress in a Dolly Parton wig.”

  “Vaguely.”

  “That’s her.”

  They all laughed, finished dinner, and had pie and ice cream. It had been a long day for everyone. They were all tired and they were all feeling relatively happy, hopeful for tomorrow. It was decided Linda and Maria would stay with Randy’s parents. Everyone else walked out into the night together.

  “I think I forgot to check the mail,” Ben said, walking past his house.

  “I’ll go check it,” Tom said.

  “Why? I can walk.”

  “Fine. Knock yourself out,” Tom said, his arm around Wendy, her head resting on his shoulder.

  “Hey, Gramps,” Gordon called after him. “You want me to walk with you?”

  “No.” Ben laughed.

  “Fine.” Gordon went on into the house. “Don’t say I didn’t offer.”

  Chapter Seven

  Tom made a point of going over to the Secretary’s office early in the morning even before entries were being taken and took Joe aside. “Are you okay?” he asked the man.

  “Yes! Why would you ask? Is this because of Linda?”

  “No,” Tom said. “This is because of you. You’re like a loose horse. What’s the hell’s wrong with you?”

  “I’ve got too much to do,” Joe said. “I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”

  Tom pointed to the general office and followed the man inside. “Listen, if you need some time off….”

  “Oh, is that what this is about? You want me to leave?”

  “No, I want you to get a grip! Look at you! Look at your eyes!”

  Linda walked into the Secretary’s office, heard their raised voices and headed down the hall in a hurry. “Hey, hey, Guys! What the hell’s going on?”

  “Why didn’t you say you wanted my job, Linda? I asked you and you said no. What, were you lying to me?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Come on, we’re going upstairs,” Tom said.

  “For what?”

  “I’m going to have Vicky check you out.”

  “Vicky? There’s nothing wrong with me.”

  Vicky was the live-in formerly-retired nurse on the floor with the old-timers. “Let’s have her tell me that. Linda, watch the desk.”

  “Oh great,” Linda said, walking back down the hall.

  Joe yelled after her. “I hate your guts, Dillon! You hear me?”

  “Yeah, I hear you. You’re not real high on my list either.”

  Tom nudged Joe toward the elevator. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “This is ridiculous!” Joe said, as the two of them boarded.

  “I agree,” Tom said.

  “Are you making fun of me now?”

  “Not at all. I’m wishing you’d shut the fuck up though. I’m trying to say a prayer for you.”

  “I don’t need your prayers.”

  “All right, then I’ll pray for me. ‘Cause if you don’t shut up, I’m going to knock you senseless and need some forgiving.”

  The elevator doors opened and the two of them stepped out into the lobby of the executive offices. A fleeting thought crossed Tom’s mind. This was where he’d first laid eyes on his wife Wendy who’d seemed pretty much like a real bitch back then. Joe followed Tom down the hall. Vicky, the old-timer’s nurse had just administered an insulin injection to Mim.

  “Morning, gentlemen,” Vicky said.

  Tom smiled. “Good morning.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  Joe took on an entirely different demeanor in front of Mim. He just stood there.

  “Are you all right, Joe?” Mim asked.

  “I’m fine,” he said, repeating himself. “I’m fine.”

  “Can you check him out?” Tom suggested.

  “Okay.” Vicky must have sensed something going on with Joe too, as she immediately had him sit down and wrapped his arm with a blood-pressure sleeve.

  “I am fine, I’m telling you. Just fine.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Vicky sa
id. “You sound fine. Let’s just check it out for the heck of it.”

  Joe’s blood pressure was 192 over 100. Vicky looked at Tom.

  “What? What is it?” Joe asked.

  Vicky just sat there for a second, mulling over what to do. “Well, your blood pressure is not bad, but I’ll need to take it again in a few minutes. My machine has been acting up.”

  Mim looked at him.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Joe asked.

  “Nothing,” Mim said. “I was just thinking about the day you had me fill a race with that really nice mare of mine.”

  Tom looked at her. “Is this a happy story? Otherwise….” He didn’t want to go down a negative road with Joe’s blood pressure so high.

  “A happy story. She ended up winning. I’d have never entered her in that race though. I thought nice as she was, she’d be a little out-classed. She win easy. I don’t know if I ever thanked you for that, Joe.”

  “You did, Mim. Thank you. I had a hunch she’d run big. That and I needed at least one more horse to make the race go.”

  “I think I remember that horse,” Tom said. “What was her name? Divvits? Doggone? Dippity?”

  “Denise Deville,” Mim said.

  “Yeah, that’s her.” Tom smiled. “What did you ever do with her?”

  “She’s a broodmare. Her first foal is a yearling.”

  “Who’d they breed her to?”

  “That Native Challenger stud at Reese’s.”

  “Ah, the competition,” Tom said.

  “Beau wasn’t proven then.”

  During this exchange, Joe just sat listening and then felt the sleeve on his arm taking another blood pressure reading.

  145 over 82. Vicky let out a sigh of relief, as did Tom, looking over her shoulder. She removed the sleeve.

  “Well?” Joe asked.

  She read him the numbers and added a caveat. “This pressure is not too bad, but it’s still a little high. What blood medication do you take?” As a veteran nurse, she knew from experience just how to ask a question. Asked if he took blood pressure medication, he’d probably say no. Joe told her the drug name and dose.

  “Okay.” She listened to his heart with her stethoscope. “It sounds good.” She listened to his lungs. “Take a deep breath. Another. Another. Good.” She took his pulse. She took his temperature. She looked at his eyes. “How old are you, Joe?”