Jockey Girl

by Shelley Peterson

  It was pretty, with ivy-patterned wallpaper in green and white. She refreshed herself as best she could. When she came out, face and hands clean, the table was set for two. Evie was surprised at how quickly Aunt Mary had assembled a tall glass of milk, a plate of cookies, sliced apples, and grapes, along with her steaming coffee.

  “This looks delicious.” Evie was suddenly very hungry.

  Mary’s eyes sparkled. “I’m glad you like it. Turns out it’s all that’s on the menu.”

  Evie chuckled as she sat down and helped herself.

  “So, I called the Humane Society and Animal Control. No dog of Magpie’s description is reported missing at the moment, glad to say.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Mary. I sure hope I can keep her. I’ve never had my own dog and I love her already.” Evie wiped her mouth on the paper napkin and paused. “Can I ask you something?”

  Aunt Mary nodded. “Of course you can. Ask me anything.”

  “Why haven’t we met before, ever, when we live so close to each other?”

  Mary smiled at Evie a little sadly. “That’s a long story. I’m happy to share it with you, but the short answer is because I’m on your mother’s side of the family. The Parson side.”

  “I haven’t met any Parsons before. So, you’re my mother’s aunt?”

  “Yes. My brother, Ted Parson, was your mother’s father, and her mother was Alicia.”

  “I have grandparents?”

  “Well, they died, so you don’t actually have them anymore.”

  “And the Gibb side doesn’t speak to the Parson side?”

  Mary’s eyes saddened. “When your mother and father got married, your father decided that the Parsons didn’t exist. That decision didn’t sit well with us, and we continued to try to connect. When Angela had to leave Maple Mills, he decided that she didn’t exist, either.”

  Evie felt tears pop into her eyes. “My mother had to leave Maple Mills? Why?”

  Aunt Mary sat deeper in her chair. “She could no longer be cared for properly. She needed professional help.”

  Professional help? Was her aunt saying her mother had a serious disability? Or a mental illness? Evie wasn’t sure how much she could take in all at once. She wanted to find her mother, to move in with her to get away from Grayson Gibb. She didn’t want to hear that she was really ill.

  “All my life, since I was little, I was told she was dead.”

  “No, Evie. She’s not dead.”

  “She’s alive?” It came out as a whisper. “For real?”

  “Yes, dear. For real. She’s alive.”

  Evie took a shallow breath. Alive, not dead. But in what shape? She felt the pieces of her history shift into a different formation and grabbed the seat of her chair. “Where is she?” Evie’s voice was hoarse with emotion.

  Mary put down her coffee mug and stared out the kitchen window. Evie followed her gaze and saw nothing but blue sky and the green leaves of the tree outside.

  “I know you want to find her. You made a big effort to get in touch with me.” Mary looked directly into Evie’s eyes. “But still, it’ll be tough to hear. She’s in Toronto.”

  “Toronto?” Evie knew by her tone that there was more.

  “Yes, dear.” Mary smiled with kindness. “She’s doing her best. She’s worked in stores and cleaned houses. For a while she sewed clothes, but right now she doesn’t have a job. Sometimes she has an apartment. Right now she doesn’t.”

  “So where does she live?”

  “I’m not exactly sure.”

  “What are you saying? She’s living on the street?”

  “Possibly.”

  Evie blinked. Was she a street person? Were all the nasty things her father said true? That her mother stole food and was a flighty, irresponsible, despicable person? Evie tried not to let her imagination run rampant. She tried not to picture Angela with a swollen belly and missing teeth, begging for money and wearing filthy rags. Evie listened intently as Mary continued.

  “Angela became addicted to pain medication after she fell off a horse and shattered her leg. You were just a small child. Not even three years old.” Mary sat forward and ran her fingers through her silvered hair. “I blame the doctor. He gave her too many prescriptions for OxyContin and she became dependent on them. That’s how it started.”

  Evie sat motionless, slumped in her chair. “Holy.”

  Mary sighed. “She should’ve gone into a rehabilitation facility. Instead, your father sent her away.”

  “But kept me with him?” This didn’t make sense to Evie. Her father wouldn’t have wanted a child to look after. Especially her.

  “He persuaded Angela to sign away all claims to you, and with you went her estate.”

  This was a lot to take in. “Her estate? I don’t understand.”

  “Grayson was not a wealthy man when he married your mother. The money belonged to Angela.”

  “And so?” Evie spread out her hands.

  “And so, when Angela was convinced that she was a horrible mother, she made a deal with Grayson. As long as you were raised well and loved and cared for, she was happy to leave him with her money.”

  “He never loved me or cared for me!” Evie’s heart was thumping. She worried that she couldn’t get enough oxygen into her lungs.

  Mary reached out and rested a hand on Evie’s shoulder. “She never knew that, dear. She always thought that you were better off with Grayson.”

  This is crazy! Evie’s head felt like it could burst. “But why? Why would she ever think that? She knew him! She must’ve known better!”

  “She didn’t.”

  “She would’ve loved me!” Evie tried not to cry. She couldn’t imagine a mother leaving a child at all, let alone to such a man as Grayson Gibb. “Something must have happened.”

  Aunt Mary looked pensive. “Let me just say, she was in a very bad way. She thought you’d be better off.”

  “She was wrong!”

  “She made her choice with the information she had. That’s all she could do. We all do that, Evie. We’re not always right, but we only know that later.”

  “Why didn’t anybody help her?” she heard herself yelling. “Like her parents? Her friends? Or you?”

  Mary answered very quietly, her head down. “I should have done more. I feel guilty every day. I wasn’t aware of her addiction until later.” She looked up. “May I speak honestly?”

  Evie nodded. She wiped the sweat and tears from her face. “Yes. Why stop now? I need to know everything.”

  “Grayson was very possessive about her. He kept us away. He wanted her all to himself. I thought at the time it was newlywed stuff and that he’d get over it. But he became more and more controlling as time went on, not less. Nobody knew that Angela needed help until she was gone.”

  “But what about her parents — your brother and his wife? My grandparents. Didn’t they know what was happening in their own daughter’s life?”

  Mary tilted her head. “I guess you don’t know anything about the Parsons, do you?”

  “No. I told you. Not a thing.”

  “Let’s sit over by the window to watch how the horses are getting to know each other. I’ll fill you in.”

  When Evie stood up she felt dizzy and grabbed the back of her chair. It quickly passed, but she was careful as she walked over to the couch where Aunt Mary sat.

  Mary had noticed. “I’m sorry. I’ve told you more than you can absorb at one time. Let me ask you some questions about yourself instead.”

  Evie sank into the soft cushions. She let her body go limp. Nice.

  “What do you like to do? Besides riding, of course.”

  “Nothing, really.” Evie tried to think of something interesting, but she really had nothing more to say. Lately, riding Kazzam was all she liked to do.

  “So,” Mary tried again, “tell me about school.”

  Wrong topic. “It’s ... okay.” Mary was a very nice woman, but Evie was not about to confide her problems.
/>   “Tell me about your friends.”

  What friends? Evie blushed. She hated blushing and was embarrassed about how red her face could get, which made her blush more. She tried to hide her face with her hair.

  Mary lifted a strand of red hair from Evie’s face and said very sweetly, “It’s healthy to blush, Evie. It means you’re a sensitive, honest person. Be proud of it.”

  “Proud?” Although she felt irritated, Evie couldn’t help but appreciate Aunt Mary’s kind sentiments.

  “So, tell me about school.”

  “I’m in grade ten. It’s okay.”

  “Hmm. Just okay. Friends?”

  “Didn’t you already ask? Can we talk about something else? It’s been a tough year.”

  “How so?” Aunt Mary waited for an answer.

  “What are you, a psychiatrist?”

  “Oops. I guess I hit the No Go button.”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Not at all. I won’t ask any more questions. We’re done.”

  “Are you mad? I can’t tell.”

  “No. I’m not mad.” Aunt Mary looked thoughtful. “But ... you asked me a lot of questions. And I’m happy to answer them.” She sat back into the cushions. “I’d just like to know you a bit better. I’m not trying to be nosy.”

  Really? Why did Aunt Mary keep asking these crappy questions if she wasn’t nosy? Evie felt miserable. She wasn’t used to talking about herself. Who cared, anyway? People asked questions, then never listened to the answers. Besides, she admitted to herself, her brain was still trying to absorb what Aunt Mary had told her about her mother.

  However, now that she’d found Aunt Mary, she had to comply with what she wanted. At least a little. “I’ll answer all horse-related questions.”

  Aunt Mary chuckled. “Agreed. Who helped you train No Justice to win the Caledon Horse Race?”

  This, she could handle. “Well, he was already fit. He won a race ten days ago.”

  “I don’t think it counts as a win if the rider isn’t on his back when he crosses the finish line.”

  Evie hadn’t realized that Aunt Mary followed the races. “He thought he won. He beat all the other horses.”

  “Good point. So how did you do it? It’s not easy to train a horse to win. I know that. It takes a lot of hard work, knowledge, patience, and diligence.”

  “Thank you.” Evie felt herself blush again. “We ran every night at eleven o’clock. Nobody knew. I copied what the trainers did, but at night.”

  Mary’s eyebrows rose. “And nobody helped you?”

  “No. I tacked him up and off we went.”

  “Weren’t you a little afraid? Word has it that nobody can stay on that horse.”

  Evie looked out to where the sleek black horse was grazing. His coat shone midnight blue in the sunlight. “He and I have a way of understanding each other, I guess. I don’t do anything special. I just ride him. We just run together.”

  Mary lifted an eyebrow. “Well, well. You’re a real horsewoman.”

  Evie shook her head. “No, I’m not. My stepsister Beatrice is a good rider, and my stepmother, too. They win ribbons all the time. I’m not good enough to compete.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says everybody. I don’t care anyway.” She found herself fidgeting with her hair. She stopped herself.

  “I’m sure you’re a very good rider. If you ever want to try showing in the hunter ring, Paragon is a lovely horse. You’d do very well with him.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Mary, but my form is all wrong. I never get anything right. Anyway, I only like riding Kazzam.”

  Mary smiled and nodded. “Maybe we can go for a hack on the trails later.”

  “That’d be great,” Evie said, happily surprised. “He likes to see new things.”

  “But first I have to call your father.” At Evie’s gasp Mary put up her hand. “You know I do.”

  “But … there’s something else.” Evie had no choice. Aunt Mary had to know. “I’m not totally sure what I heard.” She paused and then blurted it out. “My father might have Kazzam killed if he goes back.”

  “Killed?” Mary’s eyebrows shot up.

  Evie continued, even though when it was spoken aloud, it sounded lame. “He said that Jerry had to get rid of him by today or ... that he’s insured for a lot of money.”

  “Wow.” Mary sat quietly as she thought it over. “Grayson isn’t my favourite person, I’ve told you that. But I can’t believe he’d have a horse killed for insurance money. It’s the lowest of the low and too great a risk.”

  Evie hoped that Aunt Mary didn’t think she’d made it up. “I heard him say it, that’s all. I thought I should tell you before you call him.”

  “You were right to tell me. And I understand your concern. But the facts remain the same, Evie. You are his child and the horse belongs to him. I cannot harbour you both without contacting him.”

  “It’s not like Dad cares about me or Kazzam. But if you call him, can you tell him that Kazzam can stay here?”

  Mary nodded.

  “I won’t give him back,” Evie said, “unless I know he’s not in danger.”

  “Agreed. I want you both to stay here as long as you want. Magpie, too.” Mary crossed to the telephone and held it up. “Number?” she asked. As Evie told her, she pressed the buttons.

  It seemed a long time before someone answered.

  “Hello,” said Aunt Mary. “This is Evie’s great-aunt, Mary Parson. Could I speak with Grayson, please?” A worried look passed over her face. “Oh, dear … I see. Thank you, Sella.… No, please don’t bother him.… Thank you. I’ll call back later.”

  Mary hung up the phone and turned to Evie. “Your father is talking to the police right now, but not about you.” She put her hand on Evie’s arm. “It seems that your little brother went missing last night.”

  Evie jumped to her feet. “Oh, no!” She clasped her hands together. “Last night? Poor Jordie!” Evie felt terrible. She had no doubt that he ran away because of her. “I should’ve told him what I was doing so he wouldn’t worry. But I didn’t know I was leaving so soon myself, and anyway, he might have let it slip by mistake, and I couldn’t take that chance!”

  “What do you want to do, Evie?”

  Evie’s mind raced. Jordie was only seven years old! She said, “Please drive me back. I think I know where he might be hiding. Nobody else knows.”

  Aunt Mary nodded and grabbed her handbag and keys. “Don’t worry, Evie,” said Mary. “We’ll find him.”

  They unhitched the trailer from the truck and closed the tailgate. As soon as Evie climbed in, Magpie jumped up and sat at her feet with bright and expectant eyes. “Can Magpie come?” Evie asked.

  “Sure.” Mary got behind the wheel and started the engine. She turned the truck around and drove down the lane.

  Evie glanced at the beautiful ebony gelding as they passed his field. Kazzam lifted his head with curiosity, but looked peaceful. Evie was glad she needn’t worry about him while they were gone.

  All the way to Maple Mills, Evie kept an eye out for signs of her little brother — along the roads and in hedges and fields — in case he’d tried to follow her in the dark.

  They turned up the Maple Mills drive and stopped at the security pad. Evie told Aunt Mary the correct numbers and they waited while the gates opened.

  Only now did it occur to Evie what she might face when her father saw her. She felt immobilized. He knew what she’d done. “He’s going to be mad.”

  “Yes. The best way to handle this is head on.”

  “Head on?”

  “Yes. Deal with it directly. It’s a fact that you left without telling anyone and a fact that you took Kazzam. Or rather, No Justice.” Mary glanced at her. “Admit it, say you’re sorry, and then get down to business.”

  “Which is finding Jordie.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Okay. Right. I can do it.” Evie inhaled deeply and gathered her courage. “If you’
ll protect me.”

  Without hesitation, Aunt Mary said, “To the end.”

  Police cars were parked at the house. Evie counted four of them. What had she started?

  They stopped the truck. Evie walked ahead with Magpie, and Aunt Mary followed right behind. The front door of the house was wide open.

  Evie saw Jordie’s running shoes on the mat. She held them up to Magpie’s nose, then set them down. “Here, girl. This is what Jordie smells like. Take a sniff.”

  Beatrice came running from the kitchen. “Evie! Mom saw you with my bagel and I didn’t want her to get mad at me and she was already mad at you anyway!” Tears popped into her eyes. “I didn’t mean for you to run away!”

  “It’s okay, Beebee!” Evie was stunned. Beatrice had never been this nice to her before. Maybe she didn’t hate her, after all. “I didn’t leave because of the bagel. Really. It’s not your fault.”

  “Then it’s all your fault!” The smaller girl stepped back and hit Evie, hard, on her shoulder. “I hate you!”

  “Ouch!” That answered that question.

  “Now Jordie’s gone, too! All because of you! He thought you hanged yourself, but there was no dead body hanging from your sheet, so he went to find you!”

  Evie looked at Aunt Mary over Beatrice’s angry head.

  Aunt Mary stepped closer. “Beatrice? I’m Aunt Mary. I came to help.”

  Beatrice turned and stared at her with suspicion. She wiped her face with her arm and sniffed.

  Evie noticed a movement through the kitchen door. It was Sella. Under her glossy black pageboy, her small, dark face was tense and her deep-brown eyes were hollow. Something’s wrong. Evie nodded a greeting. Sella tried to smile, flicked her eyes quickly to her right, then disappeared from sight.

  “What are you doing here?” a voice hissed.

  8

  Jordie

  Grayson Gibb swept tiny Sella aside, then strode out of the kitchen and into the hall. He towered over them, glaring past Evie and right at Mary. His eyes glinted like steel. He began to smile, which made Evie think of a rabid dog baring its teeth. Her blood ran cold. She wanted nothing more than to run back to the safety of Aunt Mary’s truck.