by M. Garzon
“Yeah! And it’s Jaden’s twenty-fourth birthday too, we could celebrate both at once,” I agreed. “There’s an indie band playing at Lee’s Palace that he’s been dying to check out.”
I looked up to find Jaden grinning at us. “What are you two plotting?”
When I told him he shook his head regretfully. “We can’t, Téa. I’m not bringing you to a bar.”
“Why not?” I demanded, frustrated.
“Because getting you incarcerated wouldn’t be my ideal birthday present,” he said firmly.
“That’s what I have fake I.D. for! Seth goes to bars with Julia and he’s never had a problem,” I grumbled.
“Querida, Seth is six feet tall. He can easily pass for nineteen.” He slid his hand into my hair and pulled me closer, his eyes gleaming. “You, on the other hand,” he breathed, “look as though I should be arrested for doing this.” He trailed his lips slowly from my temple to my lips, making me shiver. By the time he was done kissing me my indignation had evaporated.
“And you.” Jaden turned swiftly and grabbed Ryan in a headlock. “I’ll thank you to stop leading my girlfriend astray.”
He laughed as Ryan struggled fruitlessly, his slim physique no match for Jaden’s strength.
“Téa, control your boy!” Ryan demanded.
I grinned before pulling Jaden’s arm off Ryan and draping it over my shoulders instead.
“I wanted to do something that you’d really enjoy for your birthday,” I told him quietly after Ryan took cover in the living room.
He shrugged. “I’ll enjoy anything we do together.” He paused, frowning. “We’ve got enough disapproving eyes on us already. Imagine if we were caught doing something illegal — I don’t want to provide the family with that kind of easy ammunition.”
Understanding dawned on me, and I hugged myself closer to him, feeling both shame and remorse. Because of course, if we were caught, he would once again be the one shouldering all the blame.
* * *
April came, and with it the usual rush of work. Students stepped up their lesson schedules in anticipation of the show season, horses shed their winter coats and required blanket changes and extra grooming, and the jumps were moved outdoors. We had our annual spring schooling show, which was a lot of fun and was followed by a potluck dinner with our students and boarders. Seth had been diligently caring for Winter and hand-walking him every day, and to our relief Winter’s strained ligament seemed fully healed, just in time for both of them to shoulder their share of the increased workload.
I was surprised to hear that we were still going to Aunt Paloma’s for Easter brunch. We normally went, mostly because Easter was more important to Aunt Paloma than to the rest of the family, who probably would’ve ignored it except for the chocolate. For Aunt Paloma the holiday had actual religious significance, but since she was sick I had assumed we’d skip our usual celebration.
As it turned out, Jaden, Lexie, and Uncle Peter did most of the work, Aunt Penny brought a carload of food to add to the spread, and we all helped unload and arrange it. We settled in Aunt Paloma’s dining room. It was a long, narrow room, brightened by sunlight filtering in through glass patio doors at one end, the light tinged green by the ever-present plants. The wall opposite me was brick covered by a layer of cream-colored paint and adorned with a collection of copper pots. It made the room feel warm and homey.
Aunt Paloma didn’t look well. She was still undergoing cancer treatments, although her surgery had been deemed successful. Her clothes hung loosely off her normally shapely body, and her carefully applied make-up couldn’t hide the underlying pallor. But she was smiling as we all dug in, and waved away Lexie’s attempts to hover over her. Lexie’s pale, thin boyfriend sat next to her.
Seth had a mound of food on his plate that could’ve fed me for a week. He had muscled up quite a bit the year before, and as a consequence, his appetite had gone from large to downright scary. Gran was sitting next to him, and she shook her head in mock despair.
“He takes after my brother Cedric, this one.” The lilt of her English accent always seemed stronger when she reminisced. “Always teetering on the brink of skinny no matter what you feed them.” She ruffled Seth’s hair fondly, and he smiled as widely as he could while chewing.
“He can’t take after Uncle Cedric, mom,” Uncle Peter said scathingly. “It’s not like the boy’s related to us by blood. He’s not that kind of family.”
Seth flinched and looked down into his lap, the joyful smile vanishing. I narrowed my eyes at Uncle Peter.
“Oh, what now,” he said impatiently.
“You’re right, Uncle Peter,” I said, simmering, “We’re no blood relation to you. Not that kind of family. So why do you care so much if I sleep with your son?”
There were gasps all around, mingled with the clang of dropped cutlery.
Uncle Peter rose out of his seat, glaring at me. “Why, you little-”
“Dad! Stop right there,” Jaden gritted through clenched teeth.
Aunt Paloma had one hand on her chest and was breathing hard. Lexie put an arm around her.
“Are you okay?” she murmured to her mother.
I stared at my plate, feeling sick with embarrassment and regret. I hadn’t meant to be so blunt... okay, maybe inflammatory was a better description.
After a minute Uncle Robert gave a reluctant chuckle. “Well, we can always count on Téa to keep things lively.”
There was silence for a minute, then Dec said tightly, “That’s putting it mildly, Rob. Would you pass the potato salad, please?”
I chanced a glance at him. I was sure Dec would be furious, but he simply gave me a long, level look before turning to his meal. On my other side, Seth was fighting a smile, and my cousin Stacey was grinning openly at me. Aunt Paloma seemed to be recovering. She picked up her fork, not looking at me. Uncle Peter sat down and the conversation resumed. My eyes moved to Jaden. His hand rifled through his hair and his jaw was hard, but his eyes were hurt. My cheeks had been flaming, but now I felt the blood drain out in a rush. I resisted the urge to go and hide in the bathroom, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat. Instead, I pushed the food around on my plate and didn’t look at anyone until it was time to go.
I texted Jaden as soon as we got into Dec’s truck. Just one word. Sorry.
I caught Dec studying me in the rearview a few times, but he didn’t say anything, and I didn’t know whether to be glad or afraid. After he dropped Gran off at her house I braced myself, but he remained silent. When we got home I made a beeline for the stairs.
“Hold it.” Dec’s voice stopped me in my tracks, and I turned around slowly. My heart picked up its pace. I was peripherally aware of Seth waiting warily.
Dec came closer before he spoke. “That was a pretty stupid move you pulled.” It was a simple statement of fact, with no heat behind it.
I nodded, fiddling with my floral-print skirt to avoid his eye.
“That kind of comment isn’t going to make anyone accept things,” he went on. “And trust me, you don’t want to get on Peter’s bad side.”
“Too late, I think.” I finally met his gaze. “Sorry, Dec. It’s just — he hurt Seth,” I said in a small voice.
“What he said hurt all of us, Téa,” he said quietly.
That night I called Aunt Paloma to apologize. She was rather curt in her acceptance, and I couldn’t blame her. I heard Jaden’s voice in the background, asking to speak to me. He hadn’t texted me back.
“How’s your mom?” I asked, subdued.
“Tired.”
“I’m really sorry I upset her — I wasn’t thinking.”
I thought I heard him sigh. “I know.”
Maybe I had overdone it at brunch, but the Fosters had always acted as though Seth and I were part of the family. To be set apart, even in the small way Uncle Peter had done it, was hurtful, but I was beginning to realize that it was a feeling I’d have to get used to if we found our natural father. And maybe ev
en if I hoped to have a future with Jaden.
I didn’t see Jaden for two weeks after the disastrous Easter brunch. He was writing his year-end exams and didn’t have time to come ride. At least, I fervently hoped that was the only reason.
When he finally returned I was in the barn, surrounded by people. Even though I’d been expecting him, seeing him sent a jolt through me. He was standing casually with his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans, but his eyes bored into mine until I forgot how to breathe. A trace of his wicked grin ghosted across his mouth before he turned on his booted heel and walked out.
I had to wait several minutes before the coast was clear, and then I hightailed it to the shed. I had barely bolted the door before I was yanked into his arms, and for a long while, his lips worked silently against mine.
“Welcome back,” I murmured finally. “I missed you.”
“As did I.”
I felt the last of my discomfort clear. “I was worried you’d be upset with me.”
“I know,” he grinned. “You looked like you were braced for a scolding. It was cute.”
I tried to scowl at him, but I was too happy to see him.
He shook his head. “You have a gift for riling my dad up.”
I nodded. “He does seem to have some anger management issues around me.” I paused as something occurred to me. “Don’t you think it’s odd, that your mom was able to help Dec learn to control his temper, but not your dad?”
He considered for a moment. “I think it would be hard to counsel your own spouse. Besides, have you considered that Dec may have been more willing to change?”
Jaden let himself out first, and I waited a few minutes before following, deep in thought. Until Jaden mentioned it, I hadn’t thought about that. How much effort must it take, I wondered, to change the conditioning of a lifetime in order to benefit your kids? Especially when those kids aren’t really yours?
* * *
I could barely keep up with the horses I had to ride, so I was thrilled when Jaden’s old friend Caley showed up the next weekend with a request.
“Yes!” I said, nearly jumping up and down with happiness. I grabbed her by the hand and towed her to the house to see Dec.
He took a minute to examine her appearance, as usual, while I stifled my sigh of impatience. So what if Caley’s eyebrow was pierced, and if the circle dyed on the side of her jet-black hair was now blue, rather than last year’s violet? She was a horseperson, just like us, and a fine one at that. She’d been playing polo with Jaden for years, and I’d played with them the year before when I’d been training Schweppes, a palomino with a marked distaste for school horse life.
“I’d like to buy Schweppes,” Caley announced in her direct manner.
I grinned. I’d been worried about Schweppes; with two jumpers to ride I wouldn’t have time to play polo this year and I knew that Dec wouldn’t keep a horse who wasn’t earning his keep. In fact, I’d had to lobby for Schweppes to stay the winter, even though he’d lived outside.
Dec smiled and they quickly reached an agreement. I heaved a sigh of relief. I knew Schweppes would have a good home, and it left me with more time to focus on Hades, Marty, and Cal.
Cal was three now, and although that was still young for a Dutch Warmblood, I was small and light so I was going to start riding him. I’d started working with him as soon as he’d arrived, doing all the usual things: ‘sacking out’, for instance, done by gently flapping a blanket around his body, allowing it to touch him all over in order to desensitize him. Horses are prey animals whose primary defense is speed, so whenever they’re startled their every instinct screams ‘run!’ Although that instinct has been dulled by domestication, every horse retains a degree of it. When I sacked out Blaze he had grabbed the blanket in his teeth and tried to play tug-of-war with me. Cal, his half-brother, snorted and acted as though I was trying to mug him.
The next day brought a breath of welcome warmth, and after school, I brought Cal into the aisle. The barn was quiet, as it usually was on Mondays, because it was the school horses’ day off. Cal’s flame-colored coat was so soft, like a baby’s, not the tall, gangly three-year-old he was, and I relaxed into grooming him. Cal didn’t relax, though. He was used to wearing tack — a saddle and bridle — but as I tacked up he anxiously examined every piece of equipment I brought, as though he didn’t fully trust me. It was irritating.
When we were ready I went to get Seth. I needed help for my first time getting on Cal; I’d lain across his back before to get him used to weight, but that was different from actually sitting on him.
I was oddly nervous before getting on Cal, and I was hardly ever nervous before starting young horses. I couldn’t afford to be, for one, but I was also confident because it was something I’d been doing for years. I was good at it, and I enjoyed it. Maybe I was queasy this time because all my hopes and dreams would be riding on Cal’s young back.
Once I was mounted, I spent a few minutes just petting him and talking to him. Cal kept trying to hide his head under Seth’s arm like some hugely overgrown puppy, but he seemed otherwise unconcerned.
Seth started leading him around the paddock, and I was suddenly assaulted by memories of my first time astride Blaze. I’d climbed onto his back while he was turned out as a two-year-old, and even carefree Seth had gone white at seeing me sit helmetless and bareback on my young horse. I was lucky he was the only one who’d spotted me, and it was a ridiculously dangerous thing to do in theory, but Blaze and I had had utter trust in each other. I hadn’t felt a moment’s unease, and neither had he. Now, though... I was suddenly gripped by tension and worry just as Cal’s head came up. I realized my weird quirk must be in action — that I was feeling his emotions — as he planted his feet and stood stock still. I spoke to him quietly, willed my own body to relax, and moved forward again. We walked around once more and wrapped up for the day, but I was left feeling unsettled.
The next time was worse.
As I was preparing him I ran my hand over Cal’s leg, and in my mind’s eye saw bay instead of chestnut. And although the scent of all horses is sublime, his smelled wrong to me somehow. I pushed aside my feelings impatiently and finished tacking up.
I rode a bit longer this time, and Seth stayed on the sidelines, ready to help only if he was needed. I trotted for the first time and discovered that Cal’s trot was longer and bouncier than Blaze’s had been. I found myself inexplicably perturbed and decided I shouldn’t push Cal too quickly. After ten minutes I called it a day. I didn’t ride him again for a few days, trying to come to terms with my unease.
I had so effectively blocked my memories of Blaze that I only saw him in dreams. But once I started riding Cal, memories of Blaze besieged me from all directions. The similarities mocked me, and the differences tortured me.
* * *
To get my mind off Cal I concentrated on my other mounts, despite Dec’s continued ambivalence toward Hades, an attitude I didn’t fully understand. I brought it up one night while Dec was barbecuing in our small backyard.
“You never did explain why you were so opposed to Hades moving here,” I began. All I knew was that Dec disliked Robin, Hades’ former trainer.
“Don’t you think it was a bit strange, that Robin would just hand over her clients to you?” His reply came from within a cloud of steam as the barbecue hissed. The spring evening wasn’t warm and I moved closer to the source of heat.
“I just figured she was maybe a bit nervous of Hades,” I said carefully. I didn’t mention that Hades had injured several people at her barn.
Dec put the barbecue top down and turned to frown at me. “Well, I don’t trust Robin so I asked around. The only clients she’s likely to pass on are those that don’t pay their bills.”
“But Monica and Neil are good that way.” Despite some other quirks.
Dec grinned suddenly. “It seems that Robin liked those clients a little too much. Especially Neil. Monica was the one insisting they move, and Robin he
lped in order to save face.”
“Oh!” I paused for a minute, trying to picture it, then decided I’d rather not. “I still don’t understand what you have against Robin, though.”
Dec started taking burgers off the grill, including a veggie one for me — another sign of progress at our house — and I grabbed the plate with the buns. He waited until we were inside to explain.
“Robin used to date a friend of mine. She was also the trainer at his barn, and when they broke up she left with half his clients. He went out of business.”
“When did that happen?” I’d never heard this story from anyone else, and the horse world is pretty tight.
“About twenty years ago.”
I gaped at him. “Twenty years? Don’t you think it might be time to let it go?”
He shrugged. “Leopards don’t change their spots, Téa. Someone who betrays you once will do it again.”
Eight
The next day Seth bounded into my room while I was changing after school.
“Hey!” I yelped.
He spun around quickly and faced the wall, laughing. “Relax, T, you’re my sister. I don’t want to see it either.”
I quickly pulled on my T-shirt before throwing my discarded hoodie at his head. He took it as his cue to turn around. He had already changed; the weather was getting warmer and we were both in shorts for the first time that year.
“Okay, what’s up?” I asked. Seth frequently forgot to knock when he was excited.
“I got some more numbers from Olivia.”
“Oh.” I dropped onto the bed, feeling suddenly weak. “I thought she said not to get our hopes up.”
“She said that López is a common name, but she’s got a contact at the ministry who’s cross-referencing to make sure these guys were in Canada the year we were born.”
I frowned. “Sounds like a lot of work.”
Seth shrugged. “Olivia’s grateful that we saved Horace. She also said that indirectly, we also helped Tom, because he might not have gotten treatment otherwise.”
