It was so much better.
“Am I interrupting something?” Greer asked coming through the doorway.
“Yes.”
“No.”
She looked at me then Lockie. “I didn’t want you anyway.”
“You already have Derry,” I remarked.
“Yeah. Are we still having a lesson today or are you two going to make out in the hay loft until lunch?”
“That’s a good suggestion but no,” Lockie replied as he gave me a leg up onto CB. “Tack Counterpoint and warm him up. Talia will be done in ten minutes.”
Greer turned and headed for the door then turned back. “Are you two ...”
I waited.
“You are.” She shrugged. “What do you think Dad will say?”
“Good choice.” Lockie replied.
“Do I still have that schooling show in two weeks?”
“Yes.”
“Will I be ready for it?”
“If you start working now, yes,” Lockie said.
Greer nodded and left the indoor.
“Will she be ready?”
“Yes. What does she have to do but stay on and steer?”
“Is Counterpoint that good?”
“Yes. He’s worth every penny your father spent.”
“If you rode him, would he be successful at the national level?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Would you be happier if you rode him?”
“No. Open jumping is not my thing. Wing agrees so we’re very compatible.”
“Why isn’t it Wing’s thing?”
“He can jump four feet very reliably but not five. Counterpoint can easily do the five.”
“Why can’t you turn Counterpoint into an event horse?”
“I don’t think he has the temperament for it. He’s like Greer and doesn’t want to be bothered with details. For both of them, it’s step on the gas and go.”
“And CB is the opposite.”
“Polar opposite.”
“And Wing is?”
“Perfect. Right in the middle. CB, this is not a criticism of him, is too calm. He doesn’t have the speed or attitude needed for cross-country. A hundred years ago, he would have been fine. The competition has gotten sharper and faster. He’s an excellent dressage horse and we didn’t get him for speed, we got him for your comfort.”
I nodded.
“Why are we talking when you’re supposed to be working?”
“I want to know you,” I replied.
“Know me at lunch. Canter and see if you can get him balanced this time.”
Inside leg at the girth, outside leg slightly behind the girth, and CB began cantering.
“Hold him together. Stabilize him. Use your back.”
I felt the change.
“There you go.”
“It’s a different place in the saddle,” I said.
“Yes.”
Greer entered the ring on Counterpoint. “Do you have time for me?”
“I’ll try to squeeze you in,” Lockie replied.
I leaned over in the saddle to be closer to him. “I’ll be right back to help you with the fences. Try to... make her feel good about herself.”
“How, in the name of all that’s rational, is that possible?” Lockie asked softly.
“Try.”
I rode out of the arena, slid off CB, kissed his muzzle and brought him into the barn. As I untacked him, I told him how much I enjoyed our time together and what a good companion he was. His ears followed me as I worked around him and gave his tail a tug. “You’re quite the charmer.”
I returned CB to his stall, made sure he had some hay, gave him a hug and told him he’d have lunch as soon as I got back. When I slid the door shut, I turned and saw CB trying to push his nose between the bars. It occurred to me that if the bars were removed on the door, everyone could put their heads out and see what was going on but still not reach their neighbor with unwanted attention.
When I returned to the indoor, Greer was just finishing her work on the flat. As I watched her canter around the ring, I could only appreciate Greer’s technique and position. It might not have appeared that she was paying attention during lessons, but obviously she had been. Greer was such a good rider, I wished that her focus over the past months had been more on perfecting her equestrian skills than on enhancing her social life. It made me wonder why that was so. She wasn’t stupid. She had to know that taking so much time away from the barn would hurt her chances to qualify for the Maclay more than help.
For the next twenty minutes, I helped Lockie set up fences, changing the height and spread. There was an oxer, an in and out, a panel and verticals but show jumping wasn’t only about the size of the fences, it was about speed, tight turns and taking obstacles at an angle in order to save time.
Since Greer was going to a schooling show, the tests wouldn’t be very strenuous but a lesson with Lockie wasn’t a stroll down the lane. He was pushing her and Counterpoint hard but Greer didn’t have the kind of personality that would cause her to back down. There was a stubborn streak in her a mile wide and two miles deep.
When Lockie finally ended the lesson, Greer was exhausted and Counterpoint was wet. I followed her into the barn where I helped take care of Counterpoint and Lockie went up to his apartment to clean up for lunch.
“You did a nice job today,” I told her while hosing him down and Greer used the sweat scrapper.
“If that’s true, why do I have to go to a schooling show?”
“Everyone goes to schooling shows, it’s not beneath you.”
“Cam Rafferty doesn’t go to schooling shows.”
Of course she had to pick one of the top riders in the country.
“Stay home for a change, ride, practice, don’t fight Lockie over every damn thing he asks you to do, and maybe in a year you’ll be one of the top riders in the country and you can have a peon take your horses to schooling shows.”
“You’re such a bitch!”
“You’re...”
“What am I?”
“Mistaken if you think this success you seek will be handed to you just because you’re the prettiest girl on the show circuit.”
Greer dropped the sweat scraper on the floor of the wash stall and left the barn.
I picked up the scraper and finished the job as Lockie entered.
“What’s with her now?”
What was the point in trying to explain Greer who, emotionally, could be like someone on ice skates for the first time. “Can we take the day off?”
Lockie paused. “Okay. Why?”
“Let’s go somewhere.”
“Where?”
I thought. “The Harriet Beecher Stowe Museum.”
He looked at me in confusion.
“It doesn’t matter where. Inside because it’s raining. Some place quiet. Any place Greer won’t be.”
Lockie put his arm around me and pulled me to him. “Greer’s not actually that unusual. The horse show circuit is full of girls just like her. Wealthy, and spoiled, she thinks she should have whatever she wants when she wants it and when she doesn’t get it she becomes a three-year old at the supermarket.”
“You mean Greer needs a nap?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.”
“You could be describing me,” I replied.
Lockie kissed my cheek. “No, I could not be.”
My phone began ringing.
“Get it,” Lockie said as he unclipped Counterpoint and walked him back to his stall.
I pulled the phone out of my back pocket and clicked it on. Josh. “Hi.”
“Hi. How are you? Moldy yet?”
“Close to it.”
“I know this is short notice but are you free for dinner tonight? Paxton came up and tomorrow we’re going to New Haven to see a play. I’d invite you but it’s not something you’d want to see.”
“Something like Boys Under the Bus?”
“Boys in the Band, yes, something like that.
”
A couple weeks ago Josh had been in a summer stock performance of a play so boring, Lockie and I left after the first act. I couldn’t imagine what he would see with his new boyfriend. It wasn’t going to be Camelot unless it was an all-male cast and everyone had a thing for Lancelot.
“Have fun,” I replied.
“So is it yes?” Josh asked.
Lockie closed Counterpoint’s stall door. I just wanted to spend some time with him alone.
“Yes,” I told Josh. “Text me the directions and time. See you.”
“Thanks, Tali.”
I clicked off.
“Who was that?”
“Josh. We’re having dinner with him and the boyfriend tonight. Is that okay with you?”
“Sure.”
“You can’t accuse me of being his beard anymore.”
“Let’s go have lunch,” Lockie said and took my hand.
Chapter Six
We didn’t go anywhere special that afternoon because some customers called and wanted to look at Blue Moon, a small roan mare Lockie had picked up to sell a few weeks back. He was intent on paying my father back for Wingspread and the hospital bill resulting from his accident. Flipping horses, buying to sell quickly, was one way. There wasn’t a huge investment in time or training. The process relied on Lockie’s ability to find talented prospects and match them up with the right customer.
Lockie needn’t feel so pressured by the financial situation and it concerned me how hard he worked and the long hours he put in. It hadn’t been a loan, and my father was well-known for his generosity but I thought he admired Lockie for his determination to owe nothing.
Putting Blue Moon through the standard equitation requirements in the indoor while Lockie spoke to the family, when their thirteen-year-old daughter got on, I went back to the house, disappointed that we hadn’t spent time together as I had hoped.
Feeling as though there was something missing in my life, I didn’t know what it was. I tried to convince myself it was just the disruption of splitting with Josh, while at the same time I was leaving school in my senior year. Changes in routine can be difficult and that’s all I wanted this to be.
As I sat in my bedroom chair, trying to remain focused on the book in my lap and failing miserably because all I kept thinking about was how much I would like to tell my mother everything that had been happening this summer, how much my life had shifted again like a tectonic plate in an earthquake. It was the same as it always had been but inhabited another place.
In a way, Josh had been my best girlfriend even more than Rogers. He made much better suggestions for outfits, he knew what to wear, what to order at restaurants, the books to read before they became popular, what music to listen to before everyone else was talking about it. Now he had moved on.
This was something I had never tested out emotionally. I knew he’d go away to college. We were all going our separate ways in another year but I didn’t know how it would feel. This was how it felt.
Changing my mind about returning to The Briar School was possible but I had made the right decision. Staying home was what I needed to do. I wanted to stay at the farm.
There was just this bump to get over.
After getting dressed for dinner, I went downstairs and found Lockie sitting at the kitchen table with Jules. He looked wonderful in a polo shirt, cotton sweater and navy trousers.
“You should come with us,” I said, realizing she would be left alone.
“Thank you, that’s very sweet but your father will be home in a couple hours so I’m on the job.”
Whatever she had in the large pot was scenting the entire room with a delicious aroma.
“What are we missing,” I asked pointing to the stove.
“Braised beef,” she replied.
That was a family favorite we all loved and it made me want to call Josh and beg off, but he was expecting us.
“And?” I asked.
“Popovers.”
“This is so unfair,” I replied going to the door.
Lockie followed me to my truck and we began the drive to the restaurant two towns away. I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure if I started I would be able to stop.
“I got the horse sold, she’ll be leaving tomorrow,” Lockie finally said into the silence.
Good. I wanted a topic with no emotional component.
“That was fast. No trial period?”
“She’s a horse with a lot of promise and they know what they want. They’ll have their vet check her over, but she’s fine and won’t be coming home again. She’ll get the job done for them.”
“Everyone’s happy then.”
“Yes,” Lockie replied. “Except for you.”
“I’m happy,” I insisted.
“That’s news to me.”
“I’m fine.”
“Great. Why are we going to the Garnet Inn when there are so many restaurants closer?”
“There’s a television show on the Gourmet channel and the host visits quaint inns around the country and he went wild about this one. He couldn’t get over the artisanal goats milk soap in the rooms upstairs.”
“I hope Jules saves some dinner for us,” Lockie replied as I pulled the truck into a parking space and shut off the engine.
“The food is supposed to be excellent.”
“Does everything have goat cheese in it?” He asked as we went to the front door.
“Yes, it sounded like it.”
“Have you ever smelled a goat?”
“Order something else then,” I replied as he opened the door for me and we entered the inn.
The maitre d’ looked up.
“Joshua Standish’s table,” I said.
“Yes, his party is seated. Come with me.”
The room was intentionally quaint with either real or fake antiques, old cracked oil paintings, and a florist shop’s worth of late summer flowers. Josh and Paxton were at a table by the window and the last of the summer sun was visible through the trees.
Josh stood and gave me a kiss on the cheek as he always did. “Hi. I’m glad you made it. Hi, Lockie. How are you?”
“Fine, thank you.”
“Talia, this is Paxton Teer. Paxton, this is the girl who got me through high school. Or most of the way,” Josh added.
Paxton was exactly the type of guy Josh had been dreaming of for the last three years. With the body of an athlete, he was well-built with high cheekbones, a fine, aquiline nose and golden blond hair. Once discovered, Paxton was going to make his mark in show business, I had no doubt about that.
Josh finished making the introductions as we sat and had menus placed in front of us.
“At least goat’s not on the menu,” Lockie said after a quick perusal.
“No,” I replied but noticed almost everything had goat cheese in it.
“Oh look, Talia,” Lockie said. “Beet, arugula and pantysgawn cheese salad. I think I’ll start with that.”
He has just become a loose cannon. If he had wanted to come to dinner, I felt Lockie had changed his mind and would have preferred to stay at the farm.
“Why don’t you have the black cheese?” Lockie suggested. “It says here it’s buried in soot to age.”
“It says ash,” I replied.
“I stand corrected. Either way you get a mouthful of burned wood.”
Paxton closed his menu. “The black cheese has received rave reviews.”
“Was it featured on the television show?” Lockie asked genially.
“Yes, it was,” Paxton replied deep into being overly impressed with the status of the inn.
Josh and I looked across the table to each other. Lockie noticed.
“Paxton,” I began. “Josh tells me you’re an actor. Did you study or did it come naturally to you?”
“An actor must always study but I’ve been a performer since I was able to stand,” Paxton replied and spent the next two hours recounting in minute detail every time he had gotten
up in front of a crowd. We were an audience who couldn’t escape.
All the courses were plated which meant artfully presented as if miniature still lifes. The squab was topped with micro greens and stuffed with chèvre, a French goat cheese. The dessert choices were between, unbelievably, goats milk ice cream, goat cheese cheesecake and a summer trifle made with goat mascarpone.
“Hmmm,” Lockie said picking up his fork and digging into the three-bite size piece of cheesecake. “I don’t know if I have room for this after that huge meal, but it looks so good, I’m going to try.”
“As actors, we’re always watching our weight. You two burn it off at the barn, I’m sure,” Paxton replied giving Josh a smile.
I hoped it was genuine and not acting. There was a lot to like about Josh as a person but the family resources couldn’t be missed by someone who didn’t grow up with the same benefits. The Standishes were old money. They were society.
My great-grandfather Swope had come to America in steerage, with no money and had done well. We were well-off, there was no doubt, but the Standishes were on a different level entirely.
We finished our coffee and tea, and I looked around for the waiter. The sooner I got Lockie out of there, the better.
“I’ve got it,” Josh said, standing and coming over to me. “It was really good to see you both tonight. We’ll do it again.”
“How about pizza next time?” I replied quickly before Lockie had a chance to say anything.
“Pizza sounds great.” Josh kissed me on the cheek then looked at Lockie. “Is it okay if I still kiss her?”
“You didn’t really ever start, did you?”
“Okay,” I said. “Goodnight. It was nice to meet you, Paxton. You be sure to let us know if you’re going to be on television.”
“No, we wouldn’t want to miss that,” Lockie added as we all proceeded to the front door.
It was still raining.
“We’ll have to make a dash for it,” Paxton said.
“We wouldn’t want to get wet,” Lockie replied.
Paxton hurried down the steps and across the parking lot.
“I’ll call,” Josh said as he followed.
Lockie held out his hand to me. “Come on, Silly, let’s go home.”
I put my hand in his.
Chapter Seven
I pulled the truck into the farm driveway. “Where do you want to go? Your place or mine?”
Bittersweet Farm 2: Joyful Spirit Page 5
