“Maybe Fable is.” Kate’s voice was barely audible.
Zara shrugged and returned her attention to Legs. “So what’s wrong with him, anyway?” she asked, giving the gelding a pat.
“Good question,” Tommi said. “I could feel he wasn’t quite right when I rode him. But I can’t see anything from the ground, so I’m not sure what to do about it.”
“Well, that’s why we have vets, I guess.” Zara didn’t sound too concerned. “It’s not like you don’t have other horses to ride.”
Tommi didn’t know why she’d bothered to say anything. Why she’d expected Zara to understand. How could she? She’d never taken anything seriously in her life, at least as far as Tommi could tell.
“Whatever,” she said. “If he doesn’t get better, my pro career could be over before it begins.”
“Lighten up, chica,” Zara said. “This is supposed to be fun, right?” She glanced from Tommi to Kate and back again. “Right?”
Kate shrugged, keeping her gaze on the floor. Tommi just rolled her eyes. In her opinion, Zara was a little too much about the fun. But what was the point of saying so?
The buzz of her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. It was a text from Alex:
Hi, Tommi—hope you’re having a good show! Can’t wait to see you when u get back on Sun. Maybe we can get together then if you’re not too tired from winning all those blue ribbons & stuff ?
Tommi smiled as she scanned the message. He was so sweet—and hearing from him was exactly what she needed right now. A real reminder that there was more to life than horses.
She texted him back quickly:
Sun night sounds like a plan. Will let u know tomorrow what time I’ll be home, ok? ttyt!
Then Kate handed Tommi Legs’s lead. “I’d better go,” Kate said. “Javier offered to cool Fable out for me, but I know he’s got other stuff to do, so …”
Letting her voice trail off, she rushed away down the aisle. “Wow,” Zara commented. “She seems even more stressed than usual. And that’s saying something.”
“She’s fine. Just busy, that’s all.” But as Tommi watched Kate disappear around the corner, she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of concern. Kate did seem extra tense lately. Was it because Fitz wasn’t at the show? Tommi wondered if maybe having him around was good for Kate after all. If there was one thing the boy knew how to do it was relax and have fun, and Kate could use a little more of that sometimes.
Then Legs shoved at her with his head, and Tommi gave him a pat.
“Okay, mister,” she told him. “We’re not accomplishing anything here. Let’s get you back to your stall.”
EIGHT
“Whoa!” Zara stopped short in the doorway, staring into the loft.
The place was a wreck. Empty bottles and cans lying around everywhere. Overturned furniture. The TV playing static.
“Hello?” she called, stepping over a stray sofa cushion as she walked in. “Stacie?”
No answer. Zara dropped her suitcase and boots near the door. The apartment smelled as bad as it looked. Stacie must’ve partied all weekend and then some.
Just then she heard the clatter of footsteps at the top of the stairwell behind her. “Hi!” Stacie exclaimed breathlessly. “Didn’t you hear me calling you? I was just coming around the corner when I saw you getting out of your friend’s car. Nice wheels, by the way.”
“That’s Tommi,” Zara said. “Her dad’s like the richest guy on the planet or something.” She glanced at the brown paper bag in her cousin’s hand. “Where were you? Out buying a mop?”
“Huh? No, I just ran over to that organic market around the corner.” Stacie held up the bag and shook it, grinning. “Scored these awesome local peaches. What does that say to you?”
Zara just stared at her. “What?”
“It’s daiquiri time!” Stacie sang out. “How about that? Does your babysitter take care of you, or what?”
Zara hesitated, taking another look around at the mess. Then she shrugged. She’d had a great show—why not celebrate?
“Bring it on,” she said. “I love daiquiris.”
Tommi was in her room, staring into her closet, when there was a knock at her door. “Come in,” she called, distracted.
She was supposed to meet Alex in half an hour, and she was running late. Traffic on the New Jersey Turnpike had been even worse than usual coming back from the show. Plus she’d had to come in through the Holland Tunnel to drop Zara in SoHo, which had added even more time to the trip.
The door opened, and her father stuck his head in. He was wearing his rimless reading glasses and holding the Times business section.
“Thought I heard you come in,” he said. “Have a good show? How’d our boy do?”
Tommi hesitated. So far she’d kept things pretty vague whenever her father asked how Legs was coming along. That seemed to be enough for him. He didn’t really want to know every detail of the horse’s training. All he cared about was results.
But this time she couldn’t just say “Fine” and leave it at that. Not without actually lying to him. That didn’t mean she was going to mention that her trip to the Hamptons had meant Legs had stood in a show stall for several days without much work, or that she still wondered if that was why he hadn’t seemed quite right when she’d finally gotten on him. No, there was no way she was going to tell her father that.
“I had to scratch him this time,” she said. “He felt a little funny in the warm-up on Friday.”
Looking concerned, her father stepped into the room. “What’s wrong with him? Is it serious?”
“Probably not.”
“Probably?” Tommi’s father frowned. “What, didn’t you have a vet look at him?”
“Not yet.” Tommi grabbed a Rag & Bone sheer blouse out of her closet and tossed it on her bed. She looked great in it, and Alex hadn’t seen it yet. “I’ll have Jamie’s vet take a look this week if necessary,” she told her father. “But he was already feeling better when I took him for a hack around the grounds this morning.”
Her father was still frowning. “I don’t understand. Is there something wrong with this horse or not?”
Tommi shrugged. “Nothing I could quite put my finger on,” she said. “Jamie couldn’t see anything. Legs just didn’t feel right. Call it a gut feeling, I guess.”
“A gut feeling?” Now Tommi’s father was starting to look annoyed. “Listen, Thomasina, this isn’t a game of My Little Pony. You’re playing with real money here.”
“I know that,” Tommi said quickly, trying to head off one of his patented financial-responsibility lectures.
Too late. “It’s one thing to protect the health of this horse if there’s really something wrong. That’s just common sense and good business. But a gut feeling? Really? You have a responsibility to your investors—that’s you and me, in case you’ve forgotten—to maximize returns. You need to push forward and sell this animal, not get all namby-pamby overcautious about every little step he takes.”
Tommi was starting to feel annoyed herself. What did her father know about horses, anyway? That would be pretty much a big fat zippo. Last she’d noticed, he couldn’t even tell her junior hunter from her eq horse, even though they were totally different heights, body types, and shades of bay.
“Whatever,” she said. “I hear you, Oh Great Financial Wizard, okay? I’m dealing with it.”
Grabbing the blouse off her bed and her favorite pair of jeans from the pile of clean laundry Mrs. Grigoryan had left on a chair, she stomped into her bathroom and slammed the door behind her. She really didn’t want to think about investments or maximizing profits or anything like that right now. All she wanted to do was get dressed for her date with Alex so she could go out and have a good time and not worry about any of this for a while.
Kate could hear shouting even before she opened the front door. All her father, of course. Her mother never raised her voice.
She hesitated, tempted to back away and take off again.
But where would she go? It was well after 10:00 p.m. Jamie had shooed her home from the barn after she’d spent the past couple of hours helping the grooms clean out the trailers and settle the horses in. The usual Sunday-night postshow routine. Now all she wanted was food, shower, and sleep. In that order.
Taking a deep breath, she went in. Her parents were both in the front room. The TV was tuned to some cooking show, volume muted. Her mother was sitting on the worn plaid couch with four candlesticks, a rag, and a tub of brass cleaner set out on the coffee table in front of her. Kate’s father, still in his cop’s uniform, was pacing back and forth between his wife and the TV.
“… and if we don’t beat some sense into that boy now, it’ll be too late!” he was yelling when Kate came in. “He has to know there are consequences to the dumb-ass things he’s doing!”
“Please don’t shout, William,” her mother said in her soft, feeble voice. “Andy already explained that he had no idea the police would have any reason to break up that party. He just went along with his friends, that’s all.”
Kate winced. Great. So her younger brother was up to more trouble. Ever since he’d turned fourteen and started hanging out with a new bunch of friends, it had been all downhill with him. He’d skipped so much school last year that he had to go to summer school. That wasn’t going too well, either, since he’d ditched his very first day and probably 50 percent of those since. Now it sounded like he was in even more trouble.
Her father heard the door shut behind her. “Katie!” he said, his voice softening. “You’re home.”
“I’m home,” Kate said lightly. Pretending she hadn’t just heard them fighting. That she didn’t know what was going on.
“Good.” Her mother stood up. “Now that you’re home safely, I’m going to bed. Good night.”
Not meeting either her husband or daughter’s eye, she rushed out of the room. Kate’s father watched her go with a heavy sigh, then turned to Kate again.
“You hungry? Come on, I’ll make you a sandwich.”
He headed toward the kitchen without waiting for a response. Kate dropped her stuff at the foot of the stairs, then followed. She slid onto one of the stools at the butcher-block island, watching her father dig into the refrigerator.
“Ham and Swiss okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, fine,” Kate said.
He tossed a loaf of bread on the island, along with a couple of deli packages and a tub of mayo. “So how was the show?” he asked, turning away to grab a plate out of a cabinet.
“Good,” Kate said. “I did the eq again on that fancy horse Jamie’s been letting me ride. Didn’t pin, though.”
“Hmm.” Her father’s big, callused hands were already busy putting together her sandwich. He didn’t know much about horses or showing—thanks to his work schedule, he rarely got to come watch her ride anymore. But usually he at least pretended to be interested in the details. Tonight, she could tell he was too distracted to care.
“You probably heard your mother and me arguing when you came in, Katie,” he said, turning away to grab the mustard out of the fridge. “I don’t want you to worry. It’s just your brother—growing pains, I guess you could call it. It’s upsetting your mother quite a bit, and well …”
He let his voice trail off. Kate just sat there, wishing she could be anywhere else. Cleaning a stall. Stacking itchy hay bales. Anything.
Her father finally turned back and met her eye. “Nobody ever said life was always a field full of daffodils,” he said with a sigh. “Seems like maybe this is one of those no-daffodils times for this family.” He reached over and touched her on the arm. “I’m just glad you’re still your same good, normal self, Katie. Makes things a little easier knowing that, anyway.”
Kate forced a smile, not knowing what to say. Her father squirted some mustard on the sandwich, slapped on the top piece of bread, and set it in front of her.
“There you go,” he said. “Eat up, then get some sleep.” He shot a look toward the master bedroom across the narrow back hallway. “I’m going to try to talk to your mother.”
As soon as he left, Kate felt herself start to shake. Her father seemed to think she had it all figured out. That she was just as happy and single-minded as she’d been as a little girl, back when the only thing she had to worry about was earning enough money pulling weeds or walking dogs to pay for her next ride at Happy Acres.
Little did he know how hard she was working right now just to hold it together. Or how quickly everything seemed to be spinning out of control. That disaster with Ford, and the way the secret kept gnawing at her. The way she’d let Jamie and Fable down in her eq class. Even her relationship with Fitz felt too shaky for comfort—sure, things were good again now, but for how long? How could it possibly last when they were so different?
She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of it all. Although she suddenly realized that feeling might also have something to do with being hungry—she hadn’t eaten since splitting a bad horse-show burger with Dani at lunch, many hours earlier. The scents of ham, mustard, and mayo wafted up, making her forget everything else for a moment.
Grabbing the sandwich, she opened her mouth to shove it in, ready to wolf down the whole thing in one bite. But she stopped herself before she actually did it. Things were bad enough right now without pigging out and making herself really sick. She couldn’t afford to wake up with a stomachache because she’d eaten too much too late at night. At least she should be able to manage to avoid that, even if she couldn’t seem to handle a fresh horse anymore, or a fresh guy.
Kate set the sandwich back on the plate, then grabbed the knife her father had dropped on the counter. Carefully pressing the dull blade into the soft bread, she cut the sandwich into four equal sections. Then she picked up one of the sections and ate it, taking small bites and chewing carefully to make it last. She’d read in some magazine somewhere that it was healthier to eat that way, anyhow.
When she finished, she stared at the other three sections for a second. She thought about eating one more. But no—she’d already decided that one was safer. If she didn’t have the strength to stick to a stupid decision like that, how could she ever expect to get the rest of her life in order?
Grabbing the plate, she quickly dumped the rest of the sandwich in the trash before she could weaken. Good. That was done. She felt better immediately, stronger, even though her stomach was still grumbling a little.
But that was okay. She could handle that. No problem.
NINE
Zara woke up, rolled over to look at the clock on her bedside table, and groaned. Almost two in the afternoon.
“Ugh,” she muttered, her mouth feeling cottony and gross. She was pretty sure it was Tuesday, which meant she was supposed to be at Pelham Lane for the juniors’ group lesson in a couple of hours. What time had she finally passed out last night, anyway? She couldn’t remember. Stacie had invited some people over—again—and things had ended up getting pretty crazy.
Zara rolled over and lurched to her feet. Stumbling over to her bathroom, she stuck her head under the cold-water tap until she started to feel more human.
Soon she was out on the landing overlooking the main room. The place was a wreck, but that was no surprise. Stacie hadn’t bothered to clean up at all after the last few parties. Why should this one be any different?
The surprise was that this time, not all the partyers had gone home. And not just whichever lucky guy Stacie chose to let pass out on top of her, either. This time there were three or four strangers sleeping it off down there, nestled into various sofas and chairs and, in one case, sprawled on the floor under a table.
“Great,” Zara said aloud. “Fabulous. Just what I need.”
She stomped down to the guest room at the other end of the row of bedrooms. When Zara glanced in through the half-open door, some short, stocky guy with a hairy back was flat out and snoring on the big double bed. No Stacie. Zara even tiptoed in to check the bathroom, but her cousin w
asn’t in there, either.
Okay, now what? Zara was heading for the stairs when she heard her phone ringing in her room. She dashed in and grabbed it off her bedside table. To her surprise, the caller ID read: GINA GIRARD.
“Mom?” Zara blurted out, pressing the phone to her ear. “Is that really you?”
“Zara, my love!” Her mother’s warm, melodious voice poured into her ear. “How are you? I miss you like crazy!”
“Me too.” Zara sank down onto the edge of her bed. “Where are you calling from?”
“The set here in Vancouver.” Gina sighed. “There’s some kind of trouble with some permit or something, and it’s causing all sorts of delays. Since I’m just standing around twiddling my thumbs here, I decided it was the perfect time to call and check in on how my favorite daughter’s doing.”
She was Gina’s only daughter, but Zara smiled anyway. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in almost two weeks, and until now hadn’t realized how much she’d actually missed her.
“Everything’s cool,” she said. “I’m totally showing New York who’s boss.”
Gina laughed. “I bet you are,” she said. “But listen, your dad told me about your cousin coming to stay. How’s that going? You two girls getting along all right?”
Zara hesitated, her gaze straying through the open doorway to the overlook. Living in a nonstop party zone was getting a little old, and there was a really easy way to put a stop to it. All she had to do was tell her mother the truth about everything that had been going on, and Stacie would be on a bus back to Southeast BumbleFlip as fast as she could pack up her mall-slut wardrobe.
“Um, it’s fine,” she said. “I mean, I told Zac I didn’t need a babysitter, but whatever.”
Sure, Stacie was getting a little carried away with the partying. So what? Zara wasn’t going to narc her out. She wasn’t like that.
“I know you think you’re grown up enough to stay alone, love,” her mom said. “But your dad and I both feel better knowing someone’s there with you.”
My Favorite Mistake Page 9
