Second Chance with My Bull Rider

by Allie Bock

  “Thank you. Without Miss Elizabeth or the rest of the Thompsons, I wouldn’t have a business.” Pete’s aunt, Miss Elizabeth, owned the old dress shop that Melanie had renovated to Chic Designs by Mel. She designed high-end fashion, costumes, prom dresses, and wedding dresses.

  “This is Mr. Dillard, my loan officer. I’d like him to be in on this meeting.” Mr. Giffery gestured to the other man at the table.

  Mr. Dillard rose to shake both of our hands. The handshake was weak and clammy. He looked down his bulbous nose at us. “Nice to meet, y’all.” His chins wiggled as he spoke. His suit hung open on either side of his ample belly.

  We settled into the table as a waitress came to take our drink orders. Mr. Dillard also ordered two giant muffins. He ate the muffins with crumbs falling onto his stomach and table. Melanie and Mr. Giffery sipped their coffee, and I rocked my cup back and forth. The foam dissolved into the dark liquid. My belly clenched and rolled, mocking the movements of my cup. Sweat accumulated under my suit and my palms went clammy. Mr. Dillard licked his fingers before wiping them on the napkin.

  “Dee,” Mr. Giffery said. “Did you ever make up with the youngest Kisment boy?”

  Next to me, Melanie slurped a large gulp of coffee and stilled, watching me. Her eyes were as big as saucers. My throat was suddenly dry, and I swallowed several times.

  “No,” I answered quietly.

  “That’s too bad. You were a cute couple and would’ve made beautiful babies.” His eyes were sad when I met them.

  Unconsciously, my hand fell to my lower abdomen and rubbed it for a second. “Yes.” My voice broke. “It would have been a true love story.” An awkward silence fell over the table as everyone watched me. My mind wanted to wander back eleven years to the summer after my senior year. Mentally shaking myself, I cleared my throat and opened the folder I brought with me.

  “Let’s talk about your therapeutic riding stable.” Mr. Giffery directed his statement at me, watching my hands stack the papers in front of me.

  “I want to take over the therapeutic riding stable in San Antonio and have Melanie become my partner. It’s closing soon, and all the children that use it will be left without a place to ride. It helps them by stimulating muscles that they don’t normally use, and it is also good for their mental health. I’ve secured the horses currently being used in the program, but we need a facility to house and run the program out of. We also need to buy or rent this list of equipment.” I handed out the documents that we’d prepared, a copy for both men.

  “This is our projected expenses and income. We broke it down by monthly and yearly.” Melanie handed another stack of papers to Mr. Dillard.

  Mr. Dillard read over the papers and then looked at us. “How much do you need for startup costs?”

  Melanie and I glanced at each other. “We estimate about $75,000 for costs and to pay rent for the property for the year.”

  Mr. Dillard grunted before going back over the numbers. “Do you have any money for a down payment?”

  “No, sir. We were looking for a loan to cover it.” Melanie explained.

  Mr. Dillard grunted, again, and frowned at us. “That could be a problem. The bank has a policy to loan money to only low-risk investments. I’m afraid that this would not be one.”

  Melanie and I shared a look. My heart fell at his words. What were we going to do?

  Mr. Giffery crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I have a solution.” We swiveled our heads to look at him. “I’d like to donate $25,000 to the cause and you would be able to rent my barn free of charge.”

  “That would bring the amount you need for the loan down quite a bit.” Mr. Dillard chewed on the last piece of muffin.

  “I also would like to co-sign the loan.”

  My jaw dropped as I bounced in my seat. Would he really? How exciting! Melanie’s face had the same expression of shock.

  “That should help with the loan papers.” Mr. Giffery smiled happily at me. “I just want to help out my girl.”

  I leaped from the table and ran around it to give him a big hug. He chuckled as he patted me awkwardly on the back.

  “Thank you, Mr. Giffery! That will help the kids so much,” I said. Emotion clogged my throat. I pulled away from him, and he handed me a handkerchief when tears leaked out of my eyes and streamed down my face.

  “No crying. You know what tears do to an old man,” he said, his eye shone in excitement.

  Mr. Dillard calculated the numbers while we sat in silence. “The bank might be able to give you the loan. I must run it by the board first, of course. But I don’t see how they can object if Mr. Giffery is helping you out.” He patted his abdomen again and wiped crumbs from his fingers.

  IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL day. Most days in August in San Antonio were. The sun shone, birds sang, and kids played at the local park. I completed my run and stopped at the local coffee shop to get my favorite iced mocha when my phone let out a few buzzes. Melanie’s name popped up on the screen.

  “Hi, Melanie. What’s up?” I answered as I slurped a big gulp of chocolatey, coffee goodness. “I thought we were meeting in a little bit?”

  “We were, but this is too pressing to wait until you get here.” Panic edged in her voice causing my stomach to drop. Melanie was usually unflappable, and I have only seen her breakdown one time. That was before she met her fiancé, Pete.

  “Ok.” Another slurp, and a rattle of ice.

  “I just heard from Pete who heard from someone that Mr. Giffery died this morning.”

  “What!” The plastic cup half full of coffee hit the ground splattering my yoga pants and tennis shoes. My stomach dropped and the noise of the outside world faded to just me and Melanie. We were supposed to meet him today. Oh no! Had he been sick? What happened? What did that mean for us?

  “Delilah, are you still there?”

  I nodded my head, even if she couldn’t see me. “Yes.” I croaked while I leaned back against the stone wall of a building.

  “From what Pete found out, the doctors are saying that he had a heart attack. Stella, his housekeeper, found him.”

  Again, I nodded. I knew Stella. She had been taking care of Mr. Giffery and his house for decades. That poor woman. Tears coursed down my cheeks in hot tracks, dripping off the end of my nose as a sniffle rose.

  “I don’t know much else,” Melanie said. “It’s going to take a while for his family to get back into town. I think this puts our plans on hold for the moment.”

  “His money-hungry children,” I groaned. “They were always too busy to help him with the ranch. And now that he is gone. Who knows what they will want to do with it?”

  “I know but worrying about it is not going to help us. Why don’t we meet up this afternoon at my house to go over the plans?”

  I agreed and hung up. Even though the sun was still shining, and it was still a beautiful day, a dark cloud hung over my head. Sadness beat in my heart and a small bit of panic raced through me. I jogged my way home in coffee-stained clothes and wet shoes.

  I drove my black Jetta the thirty miles into Sunnydale that afternoon to meet Melanie at her and Pete’s ranch-style house on the edge of town. Only Melanie’s little Honda was parked in the drive when I pulled up. I gathered my papers into a pile and unfolded myself out of the car. Melanie opened the door before I knocked, looking lovely in a red flowing shirt and white shorts. Her hair was cut in the latest fashion and make-up was perfectly done. I tugged at my T-shirt and tried to straighten my wild ponytail. Her lips quirked into a half-grin.

  “I have been offering to show you how to do your hair for years, ever since that boy liked you in college.”

  I blushed a bit, remembering how awkward I was back then. “No, I’m good.”

  She swung the door open to let me walk in. Pete’s house was the quintessential bachelor pad before he met Melanie. Now, local artists’ works hung on the walls, plush couches were in the living room, and the fridge was full of food. She led the way to the small
, bright kitchen and pulled out some lemonade. She was from New York and didn’t care for sweet tea.

  “Would you like some?”

  “Sure, Pete must be gaining weight from all that food in there.” I glanced inside to see leftover casserole, veggies, and chicken thawing for tonight. He was lucky to have milk and some bread before Melanie came along. She laughed. Then, she settled at the table and started up her laptop.

  “Let’s think worst-case scenario. What if we don’t get the money Mr. Giffery was going to donate?” She unclicked some buttons in the spreadsheet she was working on. The bottom number went from black to a bright red. She grabbed a pencil and twirled it while she contemplated the number at the bottom. My heart dropped as I had sunk into the chair next to her.

  “That’s a lot of money.” I felt numb. $25,000 was a lot of money; plus, we’d have to find another place to rent and another co-signer. With his help, it would have gotten us off the ground and be sustainable by the second year of business.

  “We’re back at the drawing board, aren’t we?” I tapped my foot absently against the stool.

  Melanie nodded, “We’d have to start over with everything, the loan for the bank, funding for the feed, building, land, and everything else.”

  I placed my head in my hands. I wanted to bang my head against a wall, but I knew it wouldn’t help. The little bit of panic that was inside of me before grew and spread throughout my body. Tremors coursed down my arms and legs and my chest contracted painfully.

  “At least, we still have our jobs. We can save the money until we have enough to bring before the bank for a loan.” Melanie sipped from her lemonade, staring at the screen.

  “You still have your job.” I groaned and tried to breathe out slowly. “I gave my two-week notice last week, and I don’t really want to beg for it back! I hate it there!” Melanie gasped and I couldn’t meet her eyes. “After we met with Mr. Giffery and everything was set to go through with the bank, I guess I jumped the gun.” I shrugged and dragged my fingers across the seam in the table.

  “I was wondering how you got so much done working third shift.” A little chuckle came from her. “I thought you were superwoman. Never sleeping.”

  “No, I’m just a dumb woman who quits her job prematurely.” I scoffed. I stole a chocolate chip cookie from the plate in the middle of the table. “The hospital has a no rehire policy, but I guess I could try to find another job.”

  I cringed. I was burnt out in the emergency room. There were only so many car accidents, sick people, and midnight shifts this girl could take. Not only that, I was broke. After buying the horses, I had enough money to cover my rent payment for next month and that was it.

  “I was ready for our therapeutic riding stable to be up and running. I don’t want to be a nurse anymore.” Tears threatened to fill my eyes for everything: the loss of Mr. Giffery, the potential loss of our riding stable, the children that need our help, and, lastly, my lack of employment.

  Melanie wrapped me in a hug and rubbed my back. “We will figure this out.”

  “SO, YOU SEE, MIKE, we need to raise money to fund the therapeutic riding stable.” Melanie pointed to the presentation we brought with us to Mike’s Auto Shop on the corner of Main Street and Highway 4 in Sunnydale. It was a gas station and a fix-it shop. “With your donation, we will be able to provide an experience that will help these children.” I paced behind Mike as Melanie finished. She had more experience in fundraising money for things than I did. She came from old money in New York where her mother raised money for a charity like it was as easy as painting toenails. I was a simple country girl, in comparison.

  Mike tossed the towel over his shoulder before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coveralls. He leaned against the counter with his belly starting to get the middle age pouch. “I’d love to help you gals out, but it has been a hard year for me...I can donate a fifty.” He rifled through his cash register and pulled out a bill, handing it to Melanie. Her face fell slightly at the sight, but she quickly put a bright smile on. She was that good.

  “That’s nice of you, Mike.” She took the fifty and wrote him out a receipt. “We’ll put your name on the donor board.”

  A smile creased Mike’s grease-covered face. “Can’t wait to see the place.” He enveloped both of us in a bear hug, before heading back to work on a car.

  Melanie pocketed the cash and I picked up the poster board. She looked about as sad as I felt.

  She slid the presentation in the back seat of her car. “I was hoping for something better.” She sat in the driver’s seat and softly shut the door.

  “We’ve hit Cowboy’s Bar, the bank, the veterinary clinic, Sunny’s Flowers and Gifts, Betty’s Better Cuts, and now Mike’s Auto.” I checked them off on the sheet. “How much did we raise?”

  “$394.75” She added up her receipt book. I blew out a sigh.

  “That only leaves Susie’s Café, the new coffee shop, and S.D. Manufacturing to ask,” I said, ticking the places off on my fingers.

  “Pete’s already asked at the factory. They have a no donation policy.” Melanie tucked a stray hair behind her ears.

  “Bummer, I am not hopeful for the coffee shop, but let’s go ask. It’s hard being a new business.”

  “I know that.” Melanie laughed dryly. Her dress shop had been open for a couple of months, and it was in the black most months, but that was mainly due to Melanie’s talent and contacts all over the country.

  I chewed on my nails while Melanie drove us across the street to the brand-new coffee shop and bakery. It opened the week before, and the rumor mill said her muffins were heavenly.

  A small bell tinkled as we pushed through the glass door. The scent of fresh-baked blueberry muffins filled the air. Coffee machines percolated on the back counter. A tiny woman with spiky blue hair stood on a stool behind the glass display filled with pastry.

  “Good morning, darlin’. What can I help you with?” She drawled in a thick southern accent.

  “I’m Melanie Baker and this is my friend Delilah Allen.” Melanie extended a manicured hand over the case to clasp the woman’s equally manicured hand.

  “Oh yes, you own that darlin’ dress shop a couple of blocks down.” She stepped off the stool and made her way around the counter. “I’m Viola Ann. I just moved here from Georgia.” She shook my hand too. Her nails were painted a bright red with little white cupcakes on them. I glanced at my chewed ones and hid them behind my back.

  “I could do with a chocolate mocha,” I said, “I need the caffeine.” I shrugged at Melanie’s look.

  Melanie scanned the whiteboard where the specials were listed. “I’ll have a triple berry scone.”

  Viola Ann started to make the mocha and warm the scone up.

  “We were wondering if you would like to donate to our therapeutic riding stable.” I blurted out.

  Viola Ann stopped building the mocha. “Oh, honey, I would love to. But I sunk everything I had into this little place.” She shrugged and glanced around. “It’s not easy to be a bakery.”

  My face burned as I stared at my toes. Melanie gave me a ‘what was that?’ look. Viola Ann brought out the mocha and the scone, and we gave her our money before retreating to the car.

  “What are we going to do?” Melanie closed the car door behind her. She bit into her scone, groaning for a moment. “This is heavenly.” She said around a mouth full of pastry. I sipped my mocha, waiting for her to continue. It was delicious, a rich chocolatey coffee with just the right amount of foam. It tickled my upper lip, leaving a little mustache. Melanie burst out laughing. She reached over and handed me a napkin from the glove compartment. She motioned to my face. I took it and dabbed at it.

  “Seriously what are we going to do?” I tried not to wail, but our situation was getting bleak.

  “Have you heard from Mr. Giffery’s lawyer?” Melanie asked.

  “He didn’t have anything about the riding stable in his will. That’s not at all that surprising.” I
twisted a strand of hair around my fingers. “I mean we have only been discussing it for a few days, and he wasn’t expecting to die. According to the lawyer, his children are going to auction off the ranch and split the money between them.”

  “Bummer. The shop is barely making a profit this month. I don’t have any spare cash. And I’m not asking my parents for help.” She blew her bangs out of her eyes. Melanie spent her whole life being under her parents’ control and money. Now that she lived in Sunnydale, she was determined to make her own way in life. “Do you have any ideas?”

  “What about asking Pete if we could rent a little space from him, just to get started?” I swirled my cup around, mixing in the chocolate that settled on the bottom.

  “I’ll ask again. But he is worried about the liability of having children around his bucking bull cows. They aren’t the tamest things in the world.”

  I snorted. “No kidding.” The week before, the UPS truck scared them, and they ran through a fence. Not something I wanted to happen with a bunch of kids with special needs and their families hanging around. “That’s understandable. Maybe another place will come along. We do need to get the money problem straightened out first. Otherwise, it doesn’t matter how tame Pete’s cows aren’t.”

  Melanie laughed at that; while I thought of little Tabitha in her wheelchair and how happy the horses made her and how much help this could be. A pit formed in my stomach. I had to do this, anyway I can.

  “I will donate all of my savings.” What little I have, I thought. “But I may need a place to stay for a while.” Heat rose to my cheeks as Melanie started the car, not looking at me. A heavy silence filled the car.

  She pulled into a parking spot in front of Susie’s Café. “You can stay at my place. I am not using the little apartment above the dress shop for anything.”

  The bell rang over our heads as we made our way into the café. It was one of those quaint places that had a long counter running the length with booths on the other side. Susie had her grey hair pulled up in a bun with a hairnet over it, flipping burgers on the grill for a couple of customers sitting at the counter. We each took a stool and flipped through the menu. Lindsay came sashaying over, pouring coffee for the older men next to us.