Lucy wiped her eyes. “I don’t know what to say?”
“We figure you can buy a baby bed with that.”
Lucy nodded, tears falling onto the money in the card.
“Thank you,” Junior said.
Lucy nodded again, turning and pressing her face against his shoulder.
“Thank you.”
“Sit,” Miguel said. “We got old, new, borrowed, blue.” He waited for them to both sit and handed them a wrapped box.
Lucy took her time untying the ribbon, a cause for chuckling. “Too late now,” Jeanne said.
“For every ribbon you break, means a baby,” Lucy explained to Junior.
“Take your time,” he said. “No twins.”
Everyone laughed.
Inside the box was a delicate handkerchief, edged in lace and faded in color, but so pretty. “That’s your something old,” Mim said. “And believe me, it’s old.”
Lucy smiled. “Thank you, Mim. It’s beautiful.”
Underneath the handkerchief was a tiny rose pin.
“That’s your something new,” Jeanne said.
“Thank you.”
Something borrowed came from Jack. It was his Medal of Honor.
Lucy smiled. “Thank you. I hope I don’t lose it.”
“Hey, then I’ll just have to go earn another one.”
Everyone laughed.
Something blue followed; a pale blue ribbon for her hair. “Marry in blue, lover be true,” Vicky said.
“It’s so soft. Thank you.” Lucy looked around at each and every one of them. “I am so blessed. Not too long ago, I thought….” Her voice cracked. “Thank you,” she said.
Frank handed Junior a tiny box that held a silver coin. “To put inside Lucy’s shoe before the wedding so you will always have good luck and prosperity.”
“Thank you.” Junior said, his arm around Lucy and holding her tight. “I think we’re all set now. What could possibly go wrong?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Jason stepped out of the guard shack and handed Dawn a copy of the Morning Banter. “Nice photo. He’s looking good.”
“Thank you.” Dawn read the headline. “Beau All Together Training Like a Champion.” The caption below the photo read, “Burgundy Blue Here He Comes.”
She walked into the tack room. Ben, Tom, Dusty, and Junior had all read the article and were having coffee. “Nice,” Tom said.
“Thank you.”
“Very nice,” Dusty said.
“Hope it doesn’t jinx us,” Ben said.
“Those aren’t my titles,” Dawn said. She knew how superstitious Ben could be.
“Wow, do I look good!” Junior said, imitating the stronghold he had on Bo-T. “Yeah, Baby! Look at them muscles in my arms!”
They laughed. What an ego.
“Let’s see about looking good this morning.” Ben studied the training chart. “If there’s no objection, I see we have four to gallop and one to walk.”
Junior smiled, still admiring the photo of him galloping Bo-T.
“Randy said B-Bo’s leg’s looking good. Why don’t you get on him at home too,” Ben said.
“Are you trying to work me to death? It’s my wedding day for Christ sake.”
“You’re not getting married till seven,” Ben said. “You’ve got plenty of time.”
“The Secretary’s office is open,” Joe Feigler announced over the p.a.
Tom looked at the others. “Is he going to do that every morning?”
“Don’t forget tonight’s the HBPA banquet. Seven o’clock sharp for Lucy and Junior’s wedding. Don’t get shut out,” Joe added.
Tom laughed. “Don’t get shut out? Who does he think he is, Bud Gipson?”
Thus the morning began. Batgirl was scheduled to walk today so Dawn started with her first. She took off the mare’s standing bandages, wrapped her legs in fleece wraps, and hung her on the walking machine then went to work on her stall. Tom tacked Red, Junior tacked Whinny. Ben walked up to the racetrack. Dusty got paged to barn twelve.
Gulliver, a relatively new trainer to Nottingham Downs stood outside one of his horse’s stalls. “Good morning, Dusty,” he said.
“Morning.” Dusty looked in at the horse. “What’s going on?”
“He came back a little owie after the race yesterday. Doc was just here. He’ll be right back. Nothing’s broken, but he pulled that ligament pretty good.”
The horse was standing on three legs. Dusty was glad Hillary wasn’t around. The horse was obviously in a great deal of pain. “Did Randy give him anything?”
Gulliver nodded.
“What’s the prognosis?”
“He said with complete rest he might be okay a year or so from now. No more racing though. He said even if it healed, it probably wouldn’t hold up.”
Randy pulled up in his truck, got out, and walked towards them, talking on his cellphone. He motioned he’d only be a minute and finished his conversation.
“I tried the owner,” Gulliver said. “He’s not up yet. He was at Mountaineer last night.”
Randy nodded. “I’d rather he stay here, at least for a couple of days. It’s a long walk to the ReHab barn. I don’t want him going up a ramp yet either, no trailering him. I’ll tape it good tomorrow and hit him with some stiffer pain killers.”
“What’ll I do with him today?”
“Well,” Randy said. “After you talk to your owner, let Dusty know. He’ll take care of him here until we move him.”
“We have a waiver form for you to sign,” Dusty said.
The man sighed.
“Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of him.”
“I know. I’ve heard. I just hate this part of racing.”
“We all do,” Randy said. “That’s why we’re in this together.”
“I’ll be back in a little while,” Dusty said. “Once you sign the waiver, he’s no longer your responsibility. Your owner will need to go in and sign the papers over. He’ll go down as a Do Not Race. He’ll get rehabbed and we’ll find him a good home, however long it takes.”
“Thank you,” Gulliver said. “I appreciate this. This is the way it should be done.”
“We think so too,” Dusty said. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
~ * ~
Pastor Mitchell walked into Rupert’s Tack Shop and greeted the man in his usual way. “Good Morning! God’s blessings upon you!”
Rupert glanced up from the counter. “Morning, Pastor.”
Two horsemen were in the store shopping.
“It’s a glorious day,” Pastor Mitchell said.
Rupert looked at him. “Is it ever not a glorious day with you, Pastor?”
“At times. Sad times. But even then, there is glory in God.”
Rupert nodded. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m just wanting to touch base with you about this evening.”
“Dusty’s already been here.”
“That was about the banquet. I’m here about the wedding.”
Rupert glanced at his two customers, still shopping. “I don’t plan on attending neither,” he said, in a low voice.
“That’s a shame,” Pastor Mitchell said. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.
“What are you doing? Don’t you be praying for me.”
“Actually, I was praying for your unborn grandchild.”
Rupert stepped back and looked around the room, a hesitation in the way he moved. “I don’t have time for this now. As you can see, I’m busy.”
“Ah, more of God’s blessings. I will leave you to your work. You close at six, right?” Pastor Mitchell pointed to the hours on the door. “That’s just enough time to lock up and come as you are. Your business is an integral part of Nottingham Downs. How lucky you are, how lucky we are, to have you on our grounds. ”
Rupert just looked at him.
“I will leave you with these parting words. Everyone here would like to see you attend this event. Come hungry
for fellowship and fun and good food. Horsemen stick together. It’s the only way we can support one another and prosper unto the Lord.”
Rupert stared at the door in the man’s wake, perhaps reading too much into what the man just said. Was it related to the visit he received the other day from that Mafia guy and his thug?
About half an hour later Ben opened the door and walked in. “Rupert,” he said.
“Ben.”
It was just the two of them. “It would mean a lot to your son if you’d attend his wedding.”
“Did he say that?”
“He’s your son, Rupert. Do you walk around saying how you feel?”
Rupert just looked at him.
“I am a man of few words,” Ben said. “I think you know that. So hear me out. I never had a son and I wish I had. Don’t let foolish pride get in the way of doing the right thing. That’s all I have to say.”
When the door opened about forty-five minutes later, Rupert looked up with resignation in his eyes. “Enough already, all right? I’ll be there.”
“Good,” Tom said. “If you’re not, you’d better not be where I can find you.” He started out the door. “Don’t come with an attitude either.”
~ * ~
Dusty came back to Gulliver’s barn and had the man sign the release form. “I’ll be taking complete care of him from here on in. You say you get ahold of your owner?”
“Yes. He’s in total agreement. I don’t think he’s ever actually seen the horse but for the winner’s circle, but he says he wants to do the right thing by him. He’s run hard and did well for the man.”
Dusty nodded and looked in at the horse. “When this hay is done, don’t give him any more. I’ll be back with a haynet full before dinner. Don’t grain him.”
“What about watering him? Carrots?”
“That’s fine.”
“It’s just that, you know, him being here, and I’m so used to taking care of him.”
“I know what you mean. He’ll be fine.” Dusty patted the man on the back. “He’ll be fine.”
From there, Dusty walked to Hannity’s barn. It was still training hours, the barn bustling with activity. As he stopped to look in at Sunshine Sam, Hannity walked out of the tack room.
“How’s everything?”Dusty asked.
“Good.”
Dusty nodded, glancing back in at the horse and noticing grain still in his feed tub. He turned and looked at a horse on the walking machine, a large chestnut. “That would be Forever Colin? He’s running tomorrow, right?”
“Yes. Why? Why are you asking?”
Dusty patted this man on the back too. “I’m just making an observation. I hope he runs big for you. Throwing that bad race last time out, he’ll have good odds.” A final look in at Sunrise Sam and he walked on down the shedrow.
Ben was coming back from the track. Dusty caught up to him. Tom, on Red, was leading Alley back to the barn, Jenny Grimm still on board. “How’d she go?”
“She galloped strong.”
“When are you running her back?”
“There’s a race for her on Friday.”
Dusty nodded and headed in the opposite direction. Irene was attending to last-minute details for the banquet and was becoming a bit unraveled. “I think I have everything. We haven’t had this many people in years. I hope they have enough bathrooms.”
Dusty laughed. “It’s a banquet hall. Why wouldn’t they?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t want anything to go wrong.”
“What could possibly go wrong?” Dusty said.
Bill Squire, the HBPA chairman walked in behind them. “Are we all set?”
“I think so,” Irene said, wringing her hands.
“Are you all set,” Dusty asked.
Bill nodded and pulled a copy of the agenda out of this pocket. “I’ll give a brief financial report, thank the horsemen for their support, then introduce you, then Ben, then Richard. That’s the lineup order Wendy gave me.”
“All right, I’ll see you two this evening.” He stopped at the door. “Irene, please don’t wear that mumu. The other one either.”
Irene laughed. “Go!
~ * ~
Tom met Gordon and Matthew at the car dealership, where the three of them walked up and down the dozens and dozens of rows of cars, all colors, all sizes.
A salesman came out, handed all three of them his business card, and shook their hands. “What can I get you in today?”
“The car’s for the boys,” Tom said, looking into the interior of a four-door sedan with a sun roof. “I’ve always wanted a sun roof.”
“Will there be a trade-in?”
“No,” Tom said. “Not unless you want it in pieces.”
“I see,” the man said, smiling. “Large car? Small car?”
“Small,” Gordon said.
“Medium,” Matthew said.
“Color?”
“Red.”
“Blue.”
“Financing?”
“Family financing,” Tom said.
The man looked at him.
“Debit card.”
“Wonderful, wonderful,” the man said.
Tom followed around behind the “boys” for better than a half hour, took two phone calls, and sat down on the curb outside the sales office to take a third. Matthew and Gordon had settled on a make and model by this time and were debating accessories and options.
“Stick.”
“Automatic.”
Tom hung up his cellphone, stretched out his legs, and crossed his arms. The salesman walked past him a few minutes later. “They’re still debating color.”
“Tell them to flip a coin,” Tom said. “What the hell? I could have been to the moon and back.”
The salesman laughed. “You sure you don’t want to trade in that fine truck?”
“No, I’ve only had it three years. I’m just getting it broke in. Excuse me,” he said, and took another call. Matthew and Gordon walked up a few minutes later, having finally chosen forest green. “It’s your mom.” Tom said.
Matthew and Gordon both held up their hands. Tom laughed. When the salesman came back outside, Tom leaned slightly to get his wallet out of his back pocket, phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear. He took out his debit card and handed it to the man. “Put the car in their names,” he said.
“We can only do one,” the man said.
“Then flip a coin,” Tom said, his answer to apparently everything today.
Gordon and Matthew walked inside with the man. Gordon stuck his head out a few minutes later. “Do we want the extended warranty?”
Tom nodded, still talking on the phone, this time to Pastor Mitchell.
When the deal was all said and done, the boys came out with the salesman, carrying keys and license plates. The man handed Tom his debit card. Tom nodded and put it in his wallet; still lying on his lap. He stood and walked with the salesman and the boys to the car they’d picked out, looked at it and nodded. “Nice.”
All set, the salesman shook Matthew and Gordon’s hands. “Your dad’s a busy man.”
“He’s planning a wedding.”
“Oh? Which one of you are getting married?”
“Neither of us,” Matthew said. “It’s for Junior.”
Tom hung up the phone, shook the man’s hand, and walked away.
“He owns a racetrack,” Gordon said.
“Really? Which one?”
“Nottingham Downs.” They both smiled proudly, watching as Tom reached into his shirt pocket for a toothpick and popped it between his teeth as he climbed into his truck.
“I like playing the ponies,” the man said. “I just wish they had slots. My wife loves playing blackjack.”
~ * ~
Señor spent hours building a box for transporting the cake. His first thought was to make it so he could set the cake down inside and top it with a lid. “No.” It would have to be tight enough to not slip around inside and that wouldn’t
allow enough hand space for putting the cake in and lifting it out. He decided to take one of the sides off, called George for help with lifting the platform, and the two of them slid the cake in slowly.
“Careful,” Liz said.
“Don’t make me nervous,” Señor said.
“Well, you’re making me nervous.”
“Shhh….” The two men finished sliding the cake inside, felt the platform butt up against the back, and tacked on the side and top panel.
“Do you want to take it now?” George asked.
“Yes,” Señor said, “before I have a heart attack.”
Liz opened the screen door and stood back.
“Damn!” Señor said.
“What?” Liz asked.
The same thing just occurred to George right at the same time. They set the cake back on the table. Señor took out his ruler and measured the box; way too wide for the doorway. “Well, we could probably tilt it and make it.”
“No,” Liz said. “It’ll slide and be ruined. Go out the garage.”
“We still have to go out a door to get to the garage, Liz!” Senior wiped his brow. “Let me think.” He glanced around the house. “The window. Let’s take it out the window.”
“Oh my God,” Liz said.
Señor opened the window and raised the screen. “Plenty of room. George, you go out and around and Liz and I will hand it to you.”
“We’re going to drop it,” Liz said. “I just know it. We’ll be serving their wedding cake by the spoonful.”
“We’re not going to drop it, Liz, could you just….” Señor motioned for her to pick it up. “Come on, it’s not that heavy.”
Outside, George positioned himself to receive it by straddling two Burning Bushes. Señor and Liz lifted the cake box and carried it slowly to the window. When they placed it on the windowsill, Señor instructed Liz to hold the side while he went out to help George get it down off the sill and to the truck. That part went fairly easy, except for George’s pant leg getting hung up on a shrub branch. He came so close to falling. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he said, balancing his box on his shoulder while he wiggled his leg free. They placed the cake box in the back of Señor’s pickup and closed the tailgate.
“What’s to stop it from slipping and sliding around?” Liz asked.
“It’s not going anywhere,” Señor said. “Besides, the base is a tight fit in the box.”
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