“Well, see that’s what we wanted to talk to you about.”
“We?” Ben glanced at Tom and Dusty.
“We discussed it this afternoon and….”
“You three?” Ben asked, motioning.
“Yes,” Pastor Mitchell said.
Dusty and Tom kept their eyes on their food.
“See, this is a big commitment for these young people, especially with a child on the way.”
Ben had visions of the horse-drawn carriage these three men had cooked up for Billy Martin’s funeral a few years back. What had started out as a simple memorial for the man’s passing turned into a media event on the evening news.
Dawn and Randy sat eating quietly. They were also remembering that day; the procession down through the barn area, the bagpipes playing….
“We thought maybe a little more elaborate ceremony….”
George and Glenda were recalling watching the news the night of Billy Martin’s funeral, how they all sat around the television. It was the first time they’d met Wendy, a first date for her and Tom. Wendy was remembering that night too. They were all at Ben’s. She was overdressed. Everyone was in tears over a man no one really even liked.
“We’re thinking perhaps….”
Dusty stepped in. “I don’t know if you know it or not, Ben, but the tickets for the banquet aren’t exactly selling like hotcakes this year, even with the Come-as-You-Are theme. Times are hard.”
Ben reached for his coffee cup and took a drink.
“So,” Dusty said. “We got to talking and thought maybe, well, just maybe Junior and Lucy could get married at the banquet. We checked with the hall. They can arrange for an aisle down the center of the room between the tables. We can have the ceremony. They say their vows and we eat. We already have a band, food. We’ll just need to get a wedding cake.”
“I can make one,” Liz said. “I can make two!”
“The Lord works in mysterious way,” Pastor Mitchell said, buttering his bread. “It’s as if this was all meant to be.”
“All except for….” Tom cleared his throat. This was where he was supposed to step in. “Lucy would like you to walk her down the aisle, Ben.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Well, maybe because of your new tennis shoes.”
Everyone laughed, Ben included.
“When we talked to her about it….”
“You already talked to Lucy about this?” Ben said. This was getting better by the minute.
“Well, yes. She was the one that suggested you could walk her down the aisle.”
Ben sat nodding. Maybe if he hadn’t have had that meeting today about slots. Maybe if he wasn’t in such a good mood. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll walk her down the aisle, but only after you, Pastor Mitchell, go and talk to her father.”
“I have talked to him.”
“About this?”
“Well, no, but about Lucy and Junior in general.”
“Good. Let me know how it turns out and we’ll go from there. If he says no, I’ll step in. But something tells me you’re going to be able to convince him that it’s not only the right thing to do, but something he’ll be proud of for years to come.”
Dawn smiled, as did Glenda, Wendy, Liz and Carol.
“There’s just one other thing,” Dusty said. Ben glanced at Tom and Pastor Mitchell. Both obviously knew what Dusty was about to say. “We thought maybe, since this is going to be a wedding too, that we might cover the cost out of the Emergency Fund. That way everyone who wants to come, can, and won’t have to worry about buying a ticket.”
“We thought if they want to donate anything, it can go to Junior and Lucy. They don’t have any insurance for the baby,” Tom said.
“It’ll just be a wedding box,” Pastor Mitchell said. “They’re not a charity. This is their wedding.”
“Well, it sounds good to me,” Ben said. “Go for it.”
Señor ladled more beef stew for Dusty. Randy passed his bowl down too.
“How will you be letting people know?” Wendy asked. “The banquet is only two days away.”
“I’ll let everyone on the backside know, and in case I miss someone, maybe we can have Joe tell everyone that comes into the Secretary’s office. Maybe even put up a flier.”
“Who?” Liz asked.
“Joe Feigler, the racing secretary.”
Pastor Mitchell looked around the table. “I don’t know what’s happened to that man lately, but he sure has gotten strange.”
Tom shared part of the story of Joe following him and Dusty home.
“Well, we have been excluding him quite a bit,” Wendy said.
“That’s because he can’t keep anything to himself,” Tom said. “Hell, I’m surprised he didn’t blab all over the place about the old-timers being upstairs.”
Everyone looked at one another, the possibility of that descending over them. “Well, they’re here now,” Tom said. “That’s all behind us.”
Dusty sighed. “We can only hope.”
Chapter Thirty
Jason stepped out of the guard shack and handed Dawn a copy of the Morning Banter folded open to the Sports page. Dawn read the headline: “Nottingham Downs the Future of Thoroughbred Racing.”
“Do I want to read this?” she asked.
“Oh yeah,” Jason said. “It’s positive for once.”
Dawn walked to the barn with her eyes glued to the page. Respectful treatment of the horses, conscientious employee relations, family-run operation, upstanding community involvement…. She walked into the tack room to find Ben, Tom, Dusty, and Junior, all glued to their own copies.
“I’m speechless,” Tom said. “To what do we owe this turnaround?”
“Well,” Dawn said. Junior wasn’t privy to the slots information or Richard’s visit to Vegas twice in two days. “I’d say we should not look a gift horse in the mouth.”
Ben smiled. “Good answer.”
“Entries are open,” they heard over the loudspeaker.
“This is strange,” Tom said. “Are we all in one another’s dreams?”
“If so, Joe’s here too,” Dusty said.
They all laughed.
Junior poured a cup of coffee and stood looking at the training chart. “Why are you ponying Alley two days in a row?”
Ben turned slowly and just looked at him.
“I’m just wondering,” Junior said sheepishly in response.
“Well, don’t,” Ben said.
Dusty and Tom laughed.
“Because…?” Junior said.
“Are you second-guessing my training or you really don’t know?”
“I don’t. She’s fit. She win her last time. Why aren’t you galloping her?”
“Because by my way of training, taking into account this particular horse as with all the horses I train, each one being different….”
Tom wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to Dawn.
“Because she is fit, she doesn’t need to be trained hard. You save the wear and tear and it gives her a mental freshness. Consider this your first lesson in Training 101. You don’t make any money in the morning.”
Dawn read Tom’s explanation on the piece of paper. “She’s fit - doesn’t need trained hard - keep her loose – keep her frisky.”
“Okay,” Junior said, when Tom passed him the note. “You ponying her or am I?”
Tom smiled. “I’ll do it. I need the exercise.”
Morning training began. Dusty only had one horse in the ReHab and ReHome barn, so he got an early start on informing the backside about the HBPA banquet also being Junior’s and Lucy’s wedding celebration. He walked up and down each shedrow, and ended up in Hannity’s barn as Jackson’s horse Sunrise Sam was being hand-walked. The horse looked more body sore to him than anything else. He made a point of watching the horse walk all the way down the shedrow, knowing Hannity was watching him, and waited until the horse was led back around before approaching Hannity.
“Morning!” Dusty said, and to the groom, “Buenos Dias.”
“Buenos Dias.” The groom smiled.
Dusty shared the news about the banquet with Hannity, and then repeated himself in Spanish to the groom.
“Gracias,” the groom said.
Dusty walked on to the next barn, glancing back several times at the horse, and met up with Randy at the Greentree barn. “When’s Mark supposed to come back?”
“Tomorrow I think,” Randy said. “Why?”
“Nothing. Just Hannity.”
Randy looked at his clipboard. “I’ll be heading over there soon. Apparently he’s off his feed.”
“Oh wonderful,” Dusty said. When he reached the last barn, he doubled back to make sure to catch anyone who might have been at the track or at one of the wash racks the first time around, and came upon a groom getting after a horse for something and shanking him pretty hard.
“What’s the crime?” Dusty asked.
“Ah, this common motherfucker.”
Dusty grabbed the shank from him. “Enough. All right?”
The horse stood wide-eyed and trembling.
“Enough!” Dusty repeated.
The man looked at him.
“Oh. You gonna pick a fight with me now? How about I write you up?”
“No. No,” the man said, walking away to try and calm down. “No.”
Dusty talked to the horse, petted him on the neck, calming him, and walked him down the shedrow. His groom was waiting for him when they came back around.
“I’m sorry,” the man said.
Dusty nodded. “You heard about the banquet, right?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” Dusty said. “We’ll see you there. Make sure you go register with Irene. We need to know how many’s coming.” He continued on to the kitchen, making sure everyone there got the wedding news.
Several people were reading the Morning Banter.
“About time they get it right,” Brickman said.
Dusty smiled, agreeing. “Hope to see you at the banquet.”
Randy’s truck was parked outside Hannity’s barn as he walked back through the barn area. He was tempted to go down and observe the exam, but figured that might be crossing a line of sorts and walked on. He held a horse for Atwood at the wash rack, talked to the horse, and when done, handed the horse back and walked on.
Ben was coming from the opposite direction. “Last one,” Ben said. Tom and Red were leading Whinny to the track, Junior aboard. “Did you tell everybody?”
“I think so.”
“Wendy posted something.” Ben dodged a horse and jockey side-stepping in front of him.
“Hey, Ben,” the jock said.
Ben nodded and looked at Dusty. “Garcia’s looking for you.”
“What for? He say?”
“No.” Ben walked on.
Dusty backtracked to Garcia’s barn. The man was cleaning a stall. “What’s going on?” Dusty asked. “You wanted to talk to me?”
Garcia nodded, hesitated and sighed, leaning on his pitchfork. “Any way I go borrow to pay my feed bill?”
“How much do you owe?” Dusty asked.
“Two month. $210. I pay back soon.”
“All right.” Dusty said. Garcia had borrowed money before and though he didn’t necessarily pay it back soon, he did always eventually clear his debt. “I’ll be back through in a little while. I’ll bring it then.”
“Thank you, Dusty.”
“You’ll be at the banquet, right?”
Garcia nodded. “My Missus too.”
“Let Irene know.”
“I will.”
By post time of the first race, Irene had close to two-hundred people registered for the banquet-wedding. Richard had returned from his second trip to Vegas, contract in hand, and would be flying back later today to personally deliver the signed copy. He met up with Ben at the barn and sat down with him in the tack room.
Ben looked at the contract, looked at the four signatures from RJR Enterprises. “You say Matt looked it over?”
“Yes. He says it’s a good deal.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that.”
Richard nodded. “Thank you.”
“I sign here?”
“Yes.”
Ben signed his name and sat back as Richard signed his name as a witness. “When will this all take place?”
“Soon. They’ll get their PR department on it right away.”
“I’d like you to make the announcement tomorrow night at the banquet. You’ll be back in time, right?”
“Yes.”
“The horsemen need to hear this from us,” Ben said. “Don’t let them broadcast this until then.”
“I won’t. Trust me.”
Ben nodded. “Did you see the paper?”
“Yes. It pretty much confirms what we suspected, doesn’t it?”
“I’d say. It’s the same syndicate name. I’ll tell you, life sure was easier when I was just a trainer.”
“Yeah, but Ben, look at what you have done for racing. Look at what you’ve done for the horses.”
“Well, I didn’t do it myself. I had lots of help.”
“Thank you,” Richard said. “For everything.” He smiled. “Who knew boots and jeans could be so comfortable.”
~ * ~
Liz got word of the “head count” by way of Irene at the racetrack and took off to the store for cake mix. She’d made wedding cakes before but not for this many people. She waved to the old-timers as she passed T-Bone’s Place. Some were on the front porch. Some were sitting under the big oak tree by the driveway. The leaves will be starting to turn soon, she thought. She looked forward to that. Autumn was her favorite time of year. She wondered what the plans were for Labor Day. A picnic? It would be nice if we could all picnic together.
She decided she’d make a big sheet cake. Sixteen cakes, double-decker, frosted all as one, all white. She bought sixteen aluminum foil pans, sixteen boxes of cake mix, six boxes of powdered sugar, vanilla, and eggs. She stood at the checkout counter, staring into her cart, wanting to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She already had a decorator set.
“Shortening!” She had some at home. “I’d better get another can.” She found the aisle, got two just in case, and pushed her cart back to the checkout counter.
“Ah, a wedding cake I bet?” the cashier said, running the items over the scanner.
“Yes. The wedding is tomorrow night.”
“Oh my. You’re going to be exhausted.”
“Actually I’m looking forward to it.”
Señor came out to help her when she pulled into the driveway. “I made the platform,” he said, grabbing all the grocery bags with two hands. “You’ll have to let me know what you want it covered with.”
“I’m thinking a white tablecloth.” She followed him inside. “We can tape the underneath. A big piece of white cardboard would be nice too.”
“I wonder where I could get that?” He put the bags on the counter.
“The craft store maybe,” Liz said. “If you can’t find any, get white poster board.”
“I’ll be right back,” Señor said. He waved to Mim, Steven, and Miguel, out for a ride on Mim’s golf cart. “Liz’s starting on the cake.”
They all waved back, looking forward to tomorrow. Liz had four cakes ready to go in the oven when Señor returned. “These go to Ben’s. Matthew has the oven preheated. Set the timer for twenty-eight minutes.”
She mixed four more before he came back. “These go to Glenda and George’s. She’s waiting for you.” The next batch went to Randy and Dawn’s. Carol had their oven ready.
“These stay here,” she said, when he returned. “Go check the cakes at Ben’s.”
“They’re not ready yet.”
“Go!” she said. “Every oven’s different. Here, take these toothpicks. Check the centers. No wait, stay here, I’ll go.”
“I know how to check a cake,” S
eñor insisted. “Stay here, for Christ sake.” Off he went.
“Frosting, frosting,” Liz said to herself. “Should I make it now, or should I wait? I’ll make it now.” She whipped up five batches of regular, made another stiffer batch for the flowers and edging, and put them all in the refrigerator. She looked out the window. “Where is he?”
Chapter Thirty-One
Pastor Mitchell walked down Guciano’s shedrow. With fifteen horses between the two of them, both of Lucy’s parents were most always at the track all day. The tack room door was open, the feed-room door open. “Tony?” he called out. “Loretta?” No answer. He decided they couldn’t be far, not with the barn open, so he sat down on the bench to wait. It faced the ReHab and ReHome barn. He waved to Dusty.
“Have you seen them?”
“Not for a while.”
A few minutes later, Lucy’s parents came walking down the road between the barns, each carrying a bag of fast food and a soda. “Don’t start with me,” Tony said.
“I don’t recall finishing with you,” Pastor Mitchell replied.
Loretta walked past him and sat down on a chair outside their tack room. Tony walked into the tack room to sit down.
”Do you want me to lay this on you now or come back after you eat?” Pastor Mitchell said.
No reply from either.
“I suppose you heard Lucy and Junior are getting married tomorrow.”
Silence.
“I see you were signed up earlier for the dinner and now you’re not.”
Loretta looked at him. “It was just the banquet before. We always go.”
“And now because it’s also a wedding, your daughter’s wedding…?”
“An ass-backwards wedding,” Tony said, from inside the tack room.
“Well, it’s not in the customary order. I’ll give you that, considering the child on the way.”
“You’re wasting your time, Pastor. We’re not going,” Tony said.
“All right. Ben said he’d walk her down the aisle if you won’t.” Pastor Mitchell hesitated. “But it’s a girl’s dream to have her father walk her down the aisle on her wedding day.”
“Yeah? Well it’s a father’s dream too. But not this one, not this way.”
“Because?”
“Because she’s pregnant.”
Winning Odds Trilogy Page 113