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Blue Ribbons Page 17

by Kim Ablon Whitney


  I tried to console her by telling her my mom annoyed me, too, just in different ways. And at the end of the day, when Hailey, Anna and I piled into Mrs. Mullin’s bed to watch bad TV at night, Hailey snuggled close to her mom and Mrs. Mullins put her arm around her. I lay there loving being a part of their family, even if it was only temporary.

  We had spent the week before we left for the show making horse treats at Hailey’s and we had a booth by the main hunter ring and spectator tent where we sold them. We were also selling special Danny & Ron’s hair bows made by Belle & Bow Equestrian. We had raised a lot of money for the lip sync. Hailey’s mom was great about helping us make the treats since she liked to cook. She rolled up her sleeves and threw on an apron and she didn’t mind that her kitchen floor was covered in oats and her counters were sticky with molasses. She also was awesome at helping us package the treats in pretty bags with labels she made on her computer. By the end of the two weeks of the show, we’d sold all but three of the packages and lots of bows, and made four-hundred-and-thirty-eight dollars. With Mom matching that, it was close to a thousand dollars.

  I won four out of five classes with Tyler the first week. It was like I was tired of figuring out how not to win. But the whole time I rode I still felt numb, like I was going through the motions. It got to the point where I felt physically ill leading Tyler into the jogs. I’d feel whatever I’d eaten that day climbing back up my throat and it was all I could do to keep it down. I fake-smiled at people who congratulated me. Martha asked me once or twice if I was okay. I said I was fine and she must have believed me. I guess people thought that, if anything, what was going on with my mother was taking its toll on me.

  The summer had been incredibly dry, with a nearly record low rainfall, which Hailey, of course, thought was a plot by the gods to ruin her summer. All those weeks when she was trying to qualify and the sky stayed Crayola blue. But on Friday of the second week, with Hailey qualified and the numbers in the ponies dwindling anyway, the skies opened up. Rain in the mountains of Vermont took on a plague-like feeling. Instead of steady rain it came in massive intermittent torrents, with raindrops as big as your hand. If there was a flash of lightning or the rumble of thunder, the show would be stopped or perhaps classes canceled, but otherwise everything kept going. Enormous puddles sprouted up in the rings and rivers of water threatened to invade the aisles of the tents. At midday, it was so dark it could have been eight o’clock at night. Hektor furiously dug trenches outside the tent to keep out the water. The rain continued through Friday night and into Saturday morning. The rings were now nearly just one big puddle, no matter how many times the ring crew dragged the footing with their tractors.

  We huddled under the tent, listening to the rain pounding on the canvas. Every so often we’d see a golf cart go by with its plastic covers up or a crazy person in their brightly colored rain slicker ride by on a drenched, steaming horse.

  “I think we’ll scratch Tyler,” Susie told me. “You can still do Drizzle and Sammy, if you want.”

  “Do we have to scratch him?” I said. Maybe he would like going in the rain. Maybe it would be more of a challenge.

  “I don’t want him getting hurt or pulling a shoe, especially after the bruise he had.”

  I knew Susie wasn’t going to change her mind. She usually let horses be horses, but it was like she’d been brainwashed to be overprotective with Tyler. I felt badly for Tyler. No one ever gave him a chance to see what he could do.

  The rain stopped by the time the mediums went, but the ring was still a mess and lots of people had scratched. The few ponies that went did funny things like spook at the puddles or try to jump over them, often landing splat in them. Donald couldn’t have cared less. He cantered straight through the slop, jumping better than ever. It was almost like Hailey rode better, too, knowing this was her chance to shine. By the time she was called on top in both jogs the sun was blazing again. Beaming, she led a mud covered Donald out of the ring.

  By Sunday, the rings were dried out and the footing was good again. It was amazing how much rain the rings could absorb. The only reminder of the rain were the trenches around the tents, some fortified with sandbags, puddles around the grounds, and the still waterlogged tack. Some of the people who scratched rode; others who were going to leave on Sunday anyway decided to make an early exit, packing their trailers and hitting the road Saturday afternoon. Susie said I shouldn’t bother showing Tyler on Sunday—she still didn’t want to risk him getting hurt even though the footing was pretty much back to normal. Hailey finished second and fourth on Donald and was champion. I had gotten good ribbons on Sammy, winning the class she was second in, and ended up reserve champion.

  On the last day of the show I didn’t want to leave. Back at the stabling, people were in pack-up mode. Several barns had already left and many aisles of the tent were now empty. Big rigs lined up outside the tents as grooms hustled back and forth with hand trucks full of trunks and equipment.

  I wanted to move in with the Mullins instead of going home to our modern, gleaming, and impeccably clean apartment and face Mom’s surgery. Sometimes at home I left crumpled tissues around or glasses of water just to see how quickly someone came and whisked them away. The longest a tissue had survived outside of my room was twenty-two minutes. A glass of water had lasted sixty-three minutes, but it had miraculously moved onto a coaster after fourteen minutes. Of course I felt guilty about not wanting to go home. What kind of a kid wanted to stay with another family when her mother was about to have cancer surgery?

  Chapter 41

  * * *

  When I got home the apartment felt so quiet that I went straight to my room to unpack and turned on music. The barn was closed on Monday and I couldn’t possibly stand being in the apartment all day so I asked if Lauren could pick up Hailey and then take us to the country club. It wasn’t really where we wanted to be—that was the barn—but we still had fun swimming and drinking smoothies at the café. When I opened the car door at the barn the next day, though, everything felt right with the world. This was coming home.

  The Pony Finals were now two weeks away. After the relaxed vibe at Vermont, the pressure started to build again. We practiced longer courses and tests for the Medal Final. Out of the ring, Hailey had been practicing her lip sync. Now she kicked into high gear. On Friday night, she had Jane and me over for a rehearsal. We made pizza for dinner using a pizza stone, and then we pushed the coffee table and chairs to the side of the TV room to create an open space like a stage. Hailey’s mom, Anna, Owen, his snake in its travel cage, Milo and Chopper, Jane, and I sat on the couch. Hailey slid her phone into a dock and pressed play. She stood in the center of the room with her back turned to us. The music started and she tapped her foot to the beat. Watching her, I was thinking how I could never perform like Hailey. I could never stand up there in the TV room, let alone do it at Pony Finals in front of a huge audience. I could ride in front of lots of people but somehow that felt different.

  When the lyrics began, she pivoted around to face us. She strutted around the room, pretending to groove to an imaginary jukebox. During a riff, she acted out playing the guitar. Her lip syncing was accurate, especially the few times Joan lets out a powerful screech. She finished with a dramatic toss of her head and we all clapped.

  Her mom whistled. “Really good. I love it!”

  Owen held the case with his snake tight. “I think it’s stupid.”

  Hailey made a face.

  Anna scratched Milo’s ear. “I liked it.”

  Hailey looked at me and Jane. “Well? Someone who’s not related to me?”

  “Good,” I said.

  “Yeah, it was good,” Jane echoed.

  But the truth was it was just okay. I wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe just because it was in her TV room and not up on stage. Maybe because she wasn’t dressed up like she would be for the actual performance. Something was missing.

  Hailey put her hands on her hips. “Good enough to beat Dakot
a?”

  I shrugged. Should we tell her the truth? Hailey was always the one to tell us the truth. Didn’t we owe her the same?

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  Jane held up her hand in the universal sign for so-so. “Maybe.”

  Hailey paced the TV room. “What else can I do? It can’t just be okay. Is it the choreography? My lip syncing? The song?”

  Mrs. Mullins slapped her hands on her thighs. “I think you need a guy.”

  Hailey squinted at her.

  “The song is talking all about a guy . . . about the singer seeing this totally hot guy by the jukebox and trying to figure out how to make him, well, want to get with her.”

  Hailey covered her face with her hand, embarrassed by her mother’s language, but Jane and I looked at each other and nodded. Mrs. Mullins was right. It wasn’t working with Hailey all alone. Lots of acts had multiple kids with backup singers or groups. I could see it working much better with a guy.

  “She’s right,” I said.

  “Great.” Hailey’s arms fell to her sides. “Because there are so many guys to choose from at the shows. Maybe we can put an ad on Match.com. Looking for hot teenage guy to be in lip sync contest.”

  “There’s got to be someone we know.” Mrs. Mullins looked at Jane and me. “Girls?”

  “Um.” I cleared my throat. Jane was going to freak out but the perfect person was obvious. “What about Alex?”

  “Alex?” Jane’s eyes were wide.

  “He’s coming to Pony Finals and he is cute.”

  Jane shook her head. “He’ll never do it.”

  Would he never do it, or did Jane not want him to do it?

  “You don’t know that,” Mrs. Mullins said. “It’s a great idea. You should ask him.”

  Jane turned her head to the side. “I’m not asking him.”

  “I can ask him,” I offered.

  Hailey shrugged. “I guess if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course. I’ll do anything for you . . . and to beat Dakota.” And I’d do anything to have a reason to talk to Alex. Alex had spent the two weeks we were in Vermont at home and then he’d been away at a big motocross competition. I’d heard from Jane that he hadn’t done very well at the competition. I looked at Jane tentatively. “Is it really okay with you?”

  She crossed her arms. “I guess, do what you have to.”

  Chapter 42

  * * *

  Now that I had Jane’s begrudging permission, I had to get up the nerve to talk to Alex. I told myself that I was doing this for Hailey and it was no big deal. I found him the next day cleaning one of his bikes in the garage in back of the barn, where the tractor for dragging the ring was stored. He was kneeling down, gently sponging off the metal on his bike with as much care as we used on our ponies. I came into the garage quietly and he didn’t hear me. I watched him for a few moments. Then I decided I better say something before he caught me standing there staring at him.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Oh, hey, what’s up?”

  He had a funny look on his face, like he was trying to figure out why I was there, or even how I’d known to find him there. (I’d asked Hektor.)

  “I heard your race wasn’t great.”

  He went back to working on his bike. “It’s not just one race but yeah, whatever.”

  I felt dumb for saying race when I had no idea what you actually called what Alex competed in. “Sorry, I hate it when people who don’t know about horse shows say stupid things like, how was your race? They ask me that all the time.”

  “It’s okay. No worries.” Alex traded his sponge for a brush and started in on the spokes of the wheels.

  “So when’s the next one?”

  “A few weeks. After Pony Finals.”

  “Does Jane ever go watch? Or, um, your dad?”

  “Jane—no, never. My dad—he’s been to a few over the years.”

  “But you get dragged to horse shows sometimes . . . like you’re coming to Pony Finals, right?” It didn’t seem fair that Jane never had to go to Alex’s competitions.

  Alex shrugged. “Mom’s going, so I guess I have to go, too.”

  “You sound about as excited as I am.”

  “You don’t want to go?”

  I guess he still didn’t understand how I felt about Tyler so maybe we were even. “I like Pony Finals. I just don’t want to show Tyler.”

  “Right. You’d rather ride Frankie, the pony who tossed you.”

  I flushed red. “I know it makes no sense. Anyway, about Pony Finals . . .” I explained about the lip sync and how we needed a guy for Hailey’s act.

  “Wait, you want me to be in her lip sync?”

  “You don’t have to sing or anything.”

  “Do I have to dance? I don’t dance.”

  “No, you just have to pretend to be this cool guy she meets. Do you know the song ‘I Love Rock and Roll’ by Joan Jett?”

  “No.”

  “I have it on my phone if you want to hear it.” I took out my phone.

  He motioned to it. “Is that the new one?”

  I nodded. This was one of those dreaded moments when it hit me how privileged I was. I had tried to tell Mom that I didn’t want a new phone, but she had insisted.

  “You’re really lucky.”

  “Sometimes,” I said. “Do you want to hear the song?” I took it as a good sign he hadn’t just said plain no. I pressed play and we listened. I snuck glances at Alex, to try to figure out what he thought of the music, and also just to look at him. The lyrics seemed to be saying things I thought about Alex and I had the strange feeling that he knew what I was thinking and maybe even didn’t mind, or felt a little bit the same way, if that was even possible. But when the song ended, I told myself I must have been imagining things.

  “Kind of cool, right?” I said.

  “Yeah.”

  “We really need you to do it. It’s the only way we’re going to beat Dakota.”

  “Dakota Pearce?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t like that girl.”

  “No one does.”

  “And doesn’t she ride with Hell’s Acres?”

  “Yup.” I chuckled. Alex might not like the horse show world, but he still knew all the players.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, you’ll do it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow, I thought that would take more convincing.”

  Alex shook his head. “Jane makes me out to be a total jerk, huh?”

  “A little.”

  “We’re just different. I don’t hate her like she hates me. Well, not all the time anyway.” He put down his brush and picked up the sponge again. “How’s the pony detectives thing going?”

  “Jane didn’t tell you?”

  Alex made a face, like no way would Jane tell him anything.

  I filled Alex in on Janette and how she’d sold Frankie out of desperation to some man she didn’t even know and how we’d figured out that Frankie had been a vaulting pony.

  “I was kind of joking when I said you guys could be the pony detectives, but I’m pretty impressed.”

  I put my hands in my pockets. “Thanks. But I’m not really sure what to do now—how to find out who this guy was. I’ve tried looking for different circuses. I haven’t been able to find out anything.”

  “I guess you could post again—see if he bought any other horses or ponies. She didn’t know the man’s name?”

  “No, he paid cash. Posting’s a good idea. Hey, maybe you’d make a good pony detective.”

  Alex held up his hands. “Being in the lip sync is as far as I’m going to go.”

  “Right,” I said.

  I had nothing else to talk to him about, but I didn’t want to leave. And he didn’t seem like he minded if I stayed. I thought about asking him to explain the motorbike world to me, but I never liked it when people who didn’t know anything about horse shows asked me to explain the hunters to them. It was nearly imposs
ible to do and anything I’d say made horse showing seem simple, which it wasn’t at all. “Well, I guess I should go. I’ll tell you if I find out anything more, though.”

  “Yeah,” Alex said. “Do you have my cell?”

  “Um, no.”

  “Put it in your phone.”

  He gave me his number and I entered it into my phone. Alex Hewitt. He’d given me his number—wasn’t he essentially asking me to text him?

  “Well, see you,” I said.

  He smiled. “Yeah, see you.”

  As I walked back to the barn, I took out my phone so I could look at Alex’s name. Just seeing it there on the screen was enough to make me feel stupidly giddy.

  Chapter 43

  * * *

  Mom had her surgery the week before Pony Finals. Dad and I sat in the surgical waiting room at the hospital. It was for all the people whose relatives were having surgery that day. It was strange to sit there and not know how serious the surgery was the people’s relatives were having. Were they having emergency heart surgery or arthroscopic knee surgery? I tried to figure out by looking around the room. Would you read US Weekly if your husband was having heart surgery? Would you be able to work on your computer? Dad brought his iPad and a copy of the The Wall Street Journal, but he didn’t use either one. I texted a few times with Jane and Hailey. I leafed through Practical Horseman and tried to read an article about grand prix rider, Tara Barnes, putting together a syndicate to buy an international caliber horse, but it was hard to concentrate. Every once in a while Dad would say something, but neither one of us really felt like talking.

  Last time Mom had surgery, I hadn’t been allowed to come until after she was in recovery. Now Dad felt I was old enough to handle it. I’d been surprised when he’d said I could come with him if I wanted. So I was old enough to wait at the hospital while my mom had surgery, but I couldn’t make any decisions about which ponies I wanted to ride. That made no sense.

  Every so often doctors would come in and whisk relatives into a smaller room attached to the waiting room. After only an hour, the surgeon came in and called Mom’s name. We bolted up from our seats, surprised since we had been told it would take several hours. We tried to read the surgeon’s face for how the surgery had gone, but she didn’t give us any indication. What did it mean that it was over so fast? Was that good news, or bad?

 

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