Pas de deux

by E. J. Noyes

  “Deal.” She glanced at me. “Do you remember stuff from back then? You and me?”

  “I remember every interaction I had with you,” I murmured.

  “I thought I did too, but I’m starting to realize I may have forgotten a few things or blown stuff out of proportion. Like what was probably harmless teasing and joking felt like cruelty and bullying back then.”

  “I think everything feels larger than life when you’re young. I know it did for me. And I feel like a shit for having made you feel humiliated and upset. Sorry, that was almost an apology.”

  She grinned. “Almost. I know it was dumb because it wasn’t just me it happened to, but…it was hurtful. And I couldn’t understand why you, because I didn’t think I’d done anything to you at all that would have warranted that. It was confusing, that’s all.” Her eyes were wide, almost fearful, as if she expected me to tell her I just really didn’t like her back then.

  Truth or not quite truth? If I didn’t tell her the truth now then everything that came after this for us would be meaningless. But the truth was frightening and forward and could jeopardize our tentative foundations. I wanted to tell her the reason, let it out into the world, but the implications of that truth made my stomach feel like it wanted to leap out of my throat.

  After my overly long silence, Caitlyn murmured, “You don’t want to say?”

  “I do, it’s just…” Exhaling, I took a chance and let it all out in a rush. “I did it because I was a queer kid with a huge crush on you. Not just how you looked, but everything about you from how you rode to your voice. I wanted you to notice me. It’s as simple as that. But you didn’t, and I couldn’t figure out if it was just because I sucked or maybe you weren’t picking up what I was trying to say.” I laughed quietly. “Which we know now I wasn’t actually saying clearly.”

  “So you were mean to me because you liked me?” She didn’t seem alarmed or bothered. The opposite really, and the quiet hopefulness of her realization made me feel like the air between us was humming. “I had no idea you were even into girls. Women,” she quickly corrected herself.

  I tried not to hyperventilate my response. “I am and yes, pretty much. I told you before that I was socially awkward. I guess when I tried talking to you and you never really engaged with me, my teen brain thought it was time to go next level.”

  She grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop. “I’m shy, Addie. Painfully shy. I don’t think I talked to anyone back then unless I was forced to. People usually think I’m cool or aloof or even mean, but it’s the exact opposite. Conversations with people I don’t know are really hard and when you add some teen awkwardness to it? It’s a recipe for disaster.”

  “I get that,” I said, trying not to sound as manic as I felt about her admission. “Shit, how easy things would be if people could manage actual conversations with one another.”

  Caitlyn’s response was a rueful, “Yeah. I should have just told you I thought you were cute and asked why you were being mean.”

  She. Thought. I. Was. Cute.

  I ignored the excited flip-flopping of my stomach and began walking again, relieved when Caitlyn fell in beside me, closer than before. “See above with the awkwardness and crushing on you.” Telling her had made me feel both light and heavy—getting it off my chest felt wonderful, but memories weighed me down. “So there it is. I wasn’t intentionally trying to make you feel like shit. I was just a scared little queer kid who was trying to hide and pretend they weren’t queer in a place where being queer was going to get me nothing but an ass-kicking. I was trying to figure myself out and I didn’t know what to do about it or the way I felt about you.”

  “An actual ass-kicking?”

  “Pretty much.” I offered her a wry smile. “I was born and raised in ‘God Hates Fags’ country, Caitlyn, and my father used that saying like he used butter on his bread. His neck is as red as the state I was born in. If you can think of every stereotype about a closed-minded southern man, he’s it.” I thrust my chest out and adopted a gruff voice with my drawl dialed up to ten. “Why you wan’a horse, why you need to go to college, why d’you think you’re better’n us?” I raised both hands, palms up, having no answer to any of those rhetorical questions.

  “What did you do?”

  “Hid myself,” I said instantly. “I was a lesbian living under his roof and having to hide myself every second of every day until I could go somewhere where people didn’t think that someone like me was hateful. My life back then was a Venn diagram that never felt right. Hiding my sexuality. Trying to fit in at Pony Club. Then there was school where I had actual friends and did really well. And I was terrified of you, this person I was so into, seeing how…little and insignificant I was.”

  “I never thought you were little or insignificant. I really had no idea,” she quietly said. “It never twigged that could be the reason.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Of course you didn’t. I don’t think anyone did really. It was all just stupid childhood fantasy.” I reached out, then rethought the movement and drew my hand back. “Being a kid is hard. Being a queer kid in that environment? No fucking thank you. I never told my parents, never intended to either, just thought I’d quietly disengage from all that hate when I was old enough. But they found out.”

  Caitlyn’s response was a quiet, “How?”

  “Decided to make a surprise trip to visit me at college. Saw me kissing my girlfriend. Made a scene. All very drama-movie moment of course because not only was I a disgusting queer but they’d spent good money to come see me. My dad tried to tell me I was no longer welcome to the Gardner name. And my indignant outrage being what it was, I told him he could go fuck himself and that he was lucky I was going to keep it because me being Doctor Gardner, DVM was probably the only bit of decency that name would ever have.” My grin felt incongruous. “Then I did a very clichéd spin around and flounced off.”

  She lightly touched my shoulder. “I’m so sorry you didn’t have support.”

  “Thanks.” I tucked my hands into my pockets. “The worst part is I don’t think he was a bad dad before that. I mean, he grumbled about me riding, but he paid for things I needed even if they were secondhand or cheap versions, and he took a cut in the income from the horses boarding in our fields so I could ride one of them for free. It’s kind of hard to reconcile the two fathers sometimes.” I cleared my throat. “Mama’s okay, well more like she’s tolerable about it. We exist in this kind of mutually accepted silence on the matter. We talk every few months for about three minutes and I get birthday and Christmas gifts shipped to me with generic I-hope-you’re-well messages but that’s it.”

  “Shit,” Caitlyn breathed. “I mean my parents didn’t exactly throw me a rainbow parade but it didn’t take them long to realize that this was how it was and who I am and they came on board pretty quickly with the ‘We love you and want you to be happy.’ I’m sorry your parents didn’t act the way they should have.”

  “Thanks. It’s fine, really. Less people to buy gifts for at Christmas.” I exhaled. “So yeah. That’s my big bad secret. Sorry, it got kinda heavy there for a minute.”

  Caitlyn’s eyebrows furrowed, and I could feel the tension of her trying to work through feelings. “I appreciate you being honest. I won’t lie, being hated by the Elites wasn’t nice and as much as I tried not to let it bug me, it really did. Insecurity is dumb.”

  I gripped her hand, squeezing to emphasize my point. “They hated you for the same reason Dakota is such a bitch to you now. Because they’re jealous of you. Of your talent. Of how you can get on any horse and make it look so easy when they are handed best horses around and they still can’t get a tune out of them. I wasn’t an Elite and I never hated you. Not by a long shot.”

  “I kind of wish I’d known the real you back then, not the you I had in my head.” Her smile, though tentative, was still genuine. “Assuming she’s just a younger version of who you are now?”

  “Pretty much. Young me was a li
ttle dumber for sure, the way I approached you being the prime example of that. But a lot of time has passed since then, Caitlyn. And there’s plenty more time in the future if you’d like to try the way things should have been when we were kids.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I think I would like that, yes. We’ve already got friendship, right?”

  “Right.”

  “That’s a pretty good starting point I think.”

  A starting point for what exactly… I’d had so many years of this physical crush, but now I was also discovering there was an emotional and intellectual side to her that only strengthened my desire. Rather than ask her to elaborate, I said, “I agree.”

  Caitlyn slowed to a stop at our intersection and glanced down at our hands. Her expression felt like mine—surprise that after I’d grabbed her hand earlier neither of us had let go. She carefully disengaged and cleared her throat. “Well, this is where I leave you. I guess I’ll see you after your meeting?”

  “That you will.” I checked my phone. “Nobody has called in a panic about their horses so my day is already off to a great start.”

  Her slow smile and the soft intimacy of her response left me with absolutely no doubt as to what she meant when she said, “Mine too.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Caitlyn

  As Mary closed the folder, her expression was both satisfied and sympathetic. “Thanks, everyone. We’ll send out an official USDF statement in a few minutes so it will go live when everyone in the States is waking up. Please refrain from announcing anything publicly until then. Those of you selected for the team need to have their measurements for uniforms to me by next Wednesday.” She glanced around the group of assembled riders. “I know I speak on behalf of the selectors when I say we’re so proud to have had such a group of talent from which to have chosen our Olympic team, and we look forward to supporting all of you throughout your careers.”

  As the management team left the room, Addie deliberately avoided my gaze, though to be fair she’d avoided everyone’s except Mary’s and Ian’s during the announcement. Probably for the best. I’d noticed the rider whose horse had been declared unsound to compete throwing more than a few glares in Addie’s direction. I understood their frustration and upset—to have come so far and not make it because of that would be devastating. But she’d made the right call.

  I took a few moments to collect myself and exchange words with the rest of the riders, then slipped out the door. The grooms had formed a huddle outside and they all split apart when the door opened. Wren pointedly stared after the management team who were talking quietly as they walked away, then back to me. After a gesture of pure exasperation, she blurted, “Well?”

  I blew out a long breath and felt a chunk of the tension I’d cultivated over the last few months exit along with the air. “Time to brush up on your Portuguese. We’re going to Brazil.”

  Wren threw victorious arms in the air. “Fuck yes! I knew it!” She dropped her arms and her voice. “And our friend?”

  I glanced at Dakota who stood fifteen feet away with her back to us. “She’s coming too.”

  * * *

  Ken arrived to change Dewey’s shoes the next morning, followed closely by Lotte’s farrier, Marcus, who’d graciously agreed to share some of his larger equipment. I knew Addie was around, having seen her car, and when she wandered into the barn with a mug in one hand and her iPad tucked under her arm, I felt a tingle of excitement.

  She greeted both men then came toward me, deflecting Dewey’s interest in her coffee with a carrot pulled from her back pocket. Her smile was warm, friendly, and added some interesting tummy flutters. The touch of her fingertips on my arm was light and all too brief. “Mornin’. And congratulations on making the team.”

  I fought down a blush. “Thanks.”

  Before I could introduce the two men to each other, Ken said hi to me and Addie then went straight over to Marcus’s truck to introduce himself. As he strapped on protective leather chaps, Ken began discussing hoof knives and medicated hoof dressings like he and Marcus had been pals for years.

  “Farrier’s Club,” Addie murmured, leaning close. “Super-secret society, almost as hard to crack as the Chiropractor’s Club. I’ve infiltrated both and I’ve almost managed to get into the Acupuncturist’s Club. Almost.” She offered me a wink then sidestepped away to talk to the farriers. Marcus stood by while Ken picked up Dewey’s right foreleg to study his hoof. In typical no-nonsense farrier fashion, he got to work removing the four shoes while we watched on. Addie pulled her sunglasses from her head and threaded them into the neck of her polo.

  I followed the progress of her sunglasses. Lucky lenses. Staring at the eyewear, I said, “Probably not a great place to put those, unless you want to donate them to Dewey’s toybox.” Dewey was already straining against the cross-ties. The sunglasses were an obvious toy if you were a horse with a low boredom threshold, and he was trying to nose Addie’s breasts. Not before me, pal.

  Oh shit.

  Now that was an unwelcome thought in a sea of unexpected thoughts. My cheeks flamed as I tried to push down the excitement tingling through me.

  Smiling in a way that made me feel like she knew exactly what I was thinking, Addie indicated Dew’s bare feet waiting to be trimmed and shaped. “I should probably pay attention to this.” With a light squeeze of my forearm, she left me standing at Dew’s head while she moved to the portable forge on an extendable arm at the back of Marcus’s truck which would heat the new set of shoes so they could be shaped to perfectly fit Dew’s manicured hooves.

  I rubbed my arm where she’d touched me.

  With the roar of the gas furnace in the background I watched Addie as she discussed biomechanics, hoof and limb angles and the like with the two men. She lacked the arrogance of some veterinarians, but she seemed confident in her knowledge and that her opinion mattered. Did she have this confidence as a kid?

  Watching Addie didn’t answer my question. All it really did was give me more questions. About myself as well as her. She glanced up and caught me staring. She stared right back and after a few moments, she smiled, cheeks dimpling. My return smile was automatic. Addie’s wink was so quick it might have been imagined, then she returned to her note taking.

  Once done with Dewey, Ken threw me a double thumbs-up. “He’s all set. I’ll see you both in Rio.”

  “Thanks so much. And sorry again about the teeth marks in your belt.”

  He grinned. “It happens.”

  Dewey thanked Ken for his nice neat feet and new shoes by snorting in his face.

  Addie walked beside me as I led Dewey back to his stall where he’d have a snack before some time out in the field. “No Wren today?”

  “She’s online shopping for—” I air quoted. “Rio-appropriate clothing. She’s insanely superstitious about things, as you may have guessed from her not allowing me to mount Dew on my own. According to her logic, bringing clothes for Brazil’s climate would mean we wouldn’t be selected.”

  “Gotcha.” She offered a bright smile. “Not that I think there was any doubt about you guys making the team.”

  “Mmm, well it’s all done now and it’s time to relax. Or freak out about all the prep we need to do.”

  “Right,” Addie mused. “I’m sure it’ll all be fine, and remember we’re here to help you guys in any way you need.”

  My libido brain helpfully piped up with, “I can think of one way you could help me.” Okay, that was enough. I was going to kick Wren out of the cottage to go have dinner with the other grooms tonight so I could spend a little time with myself. I cleared my throat. “Team selection and Olympics glory aside, at least we’ll get to spend some more time together, working on that friendship thing.”

  For the first time since we’d reconnected, Addie blushed. Her head snapped back down to concentrate on her iPad and after a few long, silent moments, she glanced up again. “I really like the way that sounds.” She lightly touched my forearm again, just th
e barest brush of fingertips on my skin but it sent a rush of goose bumps coursing up my arm.

  I stared down, marveling that something so innocent could be so affecting. “You always touch me,” I mumbled, aware of how dumb and obvious it sounded.

  Addie backed up a few steps, well out of touching range. “I’m so sorry. I touch everyone,” she added quickly. “It’s just a habit, something that happens without thought.”

  “Everyone?” I had seen how tactile she was with Wren and for some reason the thought that I wasn’t special somehow was oddly disappointing.

  She deflated. “Well, not really everyone. Just people I’m comfortable with. I try really hard around clients and stuff to stay out of reach, otherwise it’s weird. And I’ve tried not to with you. I’m sorry if it’s made you uncomfortable. I know it’s not appropriate.” Addie laughed. “Though I think maybe we’ve already stepped over that particular line. It’s just…it’s…being comfortable. Around you.” Addie indicated a circle around herself with both arms. “Okay. This is my space, which is outside of your personal space, and I’m going to stick to it.”

  I stepped into that circle. “I’m not uncomfortable at all. Far from it. And I’m happy to have you in my space.”

  Dewey, the master of comedic timing, nudged me hard in the back, sending me flying forward. I scrabbled for something to grab and finding nothing, fell against Addie who had no time to do anything but grab me until we were pressed front on in an awkward, yet admittedly nice, embrace.

  Awkwardness aside, the hug felt natural, comfortable, and I had a quick flash of what it might be like to do it again. And anything that might follow on from a hug… The feeling that rolled through me was a beefed-up version of that pleasant tingle from before.

  “Really uncool, Dew,” I mumbled once I’d managed to extricate myself from Addie’s arms. The moment I was free, I wanted to do whatever the opposite of extricate was.

  Addie on the other hand seemed totally unconcerned by our impromptu cuddle. “Does he do that often?” The question came out rough and croaky, and made me think she wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared.