by E. J. Noyes
Brandon paused at the intersection that split three ways to either the barn facilities, my three-bedroom cottage on the small hill or continued on to his and Wren’s two-bedroom tucked behind some fields. “Do you want to take a look around now or in the morning?”
“Let me put my stuff in the house and take a shower to wash off these flights, then I’ll meet you for a grand tour?”
On my kitchen table was a foot-high Jenga stack of mail. Something to attack later. I dropped my bags on the floor, flinched at the sharp thud that echoed through my quiet, empty house. The echo made me think how great it would be to have someone to share this moment with me.
It only took a half an hour to shower, partially unpack and put on a load of laundry and bag up my many pairs of competition breeches and uniform tails to be dry cleaned. In the bottom of my carry-on backpack was something I definitely hadn’t put in there. I slid my finger under the flap of the envelope with my name written in now-familiar handwriting.
Caitlyn,
I’ve thought of so many things I want to say to you but every time I try I worry that it’s not the right time. But I’m not sure any time is right when we live the lives we do, so I’ve decided to just write this. These months have been amazing in a way I don’t think I could ever explain. I’m so proud of you, and so proud to have been part of everything you accomplished here. If you’d asked me when we were fourteen what I most wanted in the world, it would have been what we shared these past few months, only I didn’t know then that it could be as incredible as it has been. I can’t wait to show you everything I have to offer you and I’m willing to take as much time as you need, and do whatever necessary to show you that I’m all in.
I love you.
Addie xo
Oh, help.
Goodbye, heart.
I scooped up Rasputin, who’d sauntered into the house with his usual series of indignant mews and chirps about the fact I hadn’t been around for a few months, and carried him down to the barn. As I walked across the neatly mown grass I contemplated doing a social media post about coming home. Later. Now was me time.
A banner with rainbow lettering proclaiming WELCOME HOME, OLYMPIC MEDALISTS! hung across the short side of the indoor arena. I snapped a photo, and smiling, sent it to Mom and a few friends. On a whim I sent it to Addie. “We’d better leave that up for Wren and Dewey when they get home.”
“Planning on it,” Brandon assured me. “Dirk already had a meltdown when he saw it during his ride this morning, so he should only spook at it ten times every ride ’til then instead of the fifteen he did with me.”
“Goody. Can’t wait.”
All the horses were well conditioned and shone with health. The barn, fields and alfalfa pasture were immaculate. And Brandon, bless him, had been hard at work raising the height on the post-and-rail fences around two of my fields ready for our new stallion arrival. With the money I’d get from the US Olympic Committee for my two medals, plus my sponsors’ bonuses for what they deemed “excellent performances,” I’d decided to go all in and purchase Dougie on my own. That meant no stress of trying to manage anyone else’s expectations about training and breeding, and I could bring the young stallion on as I wanted. He was due to leave the Netherlands in about ten days, once all his necessary inspections and tests had been completed.
So many pieces were slotting into place all at once, as if the gate on everything fabulous had opened to let greatness pour through. But something still felt hollow. I didn’t need my mom’s psychology degree to understand why. After all I’d shared with Addie, the possibilities she’d shown me, coming home felt great but not brilliant.
I wanted to call her, not because I wanted her to report on Dew, but because I just wanted to talk to her. But talking to her right now, feeling as lonely and flat as I did would only amplify those feelings when I had to end the call. Especially when it was nothing more than a selfish want that butted against everything my rational brain was telling me—that Addie plus Caitlyn wasn’t going to equal an enemies-to-lovers fairytale. It would be a push and pull until she eventually tired of being the one who had to make all the effort for us to spend time together and broke up with me. The thought made me feel sick.
I’d just set my phone down to start grudgingly making dinner when a message landed. Saved by the bell. I was greeted by an Addie-Dewey selfie. Dew stretched toward the camera with Addie’s face pressed to the side of his cheek. She held up her plastic baggie of Life Savers, her smile luminous, dimples deepening her cheeks. Freshest breath in quarantine!
Another message pinged through before I could think of something to convey just how much I loved the photo and that the most important thing in my life adored something I wanted to be important in my life.
We both miss you.
My fingers acted without thinking. I miss you both too.
Hold on to that thought. Have to do official things, talk soon.
I’d just opened the refrigerator when another message alert sounded. Text from Wren. Your girlfriend and I are taking excellent care of Dew.
She’s not my girlfriend. She really wasn’t. Maybe pre-girlfriend?
Based on what I saw these past few months, I disagree. You’re in lurve. Make it work, for everyone’s sake. Dew adores her and I think she’s pretty great too.
Operation: Set Caitlyn Up With The Hot Vet has recommenced. Remind me why I don’t fire you for being such a buttinsky?
Huge smile emoji. Because neither you or your horses could live without me.
True.
Shit! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. Dakota fired Eleanor! Full marching orders, left quarantine staff to deal with Pierre. They are not impressed. Apparently groom’s fault she didn’t get an individual medal…something about loyalty blah blah. Eye roll emoji. Addie is the most diplomatic person I’ve ever met. You should really marry her.
My level of surprise is one out of ten. Poor Eleanor. Also not poor Eleanor being free of DT. See above re: buttinsky. And have you and my mother been colluding on the marriage front?
It’s for your own good. Talk in the morning. Try to sleep. If you’re cooking dinner, don’t forget to preheat the pan before you start tossing shit in.
I turned on the gas under the pan and sent a final message. Sure thing, boss.
I cremated then ate dinner, started opening my massive pile of mail then abandoned it, and finally tried not to wander aimlessly around my empty house. I’d been told about Olympic Comedown Syndrome but I hadn’t really expected to be affected. I’d spent so much time away at big important competitions, so why did I feel so blah now, as if I’d forgotten to do something important. Gee, Caitlyn, I don’t know. Could it have something to do with being maybe just a little in love with the woman you’ve only been apart from for…twenty-four hours?
Though it would be wonderful to stay awake thinking about Addie, it would also not kick jetlag in the ass. So I did the responsible adult thing and readied myself for bed. The moment I was in bed I got irresponsible and messaged Addie that I missed her and was about to go to bed alone.
Her response was almost immediate. How much do you miss me?
There’s no real quantifiable measure for missing someone, but let’s just say a lot.
Enough to practice our being apart sex? After a pause a winking emoji followed.
Her implication sent a wave of heat through my body. Go on…
Given I’m in a room with thin walls, what do you say to a little sexting? Then I won’t give myself away.
I say I’m game if you are. I got your note, by the way.
It took almost five minutes for her response to land. Oh. And?
I didn’t want to tell her I loved her for the first time over text, so I opened FaceTime and called her. The first thing she said was, “You could have warned me you were about to call and I would have brushed my hair or something.”
Instead of a greeting or remark about her hair, which admittedly looked hilariously untidy, I blu
rted, “I love you too.”
Her exhalation was loud. “I—I…good. I love you. I’m sorry the first time I told you was in a letter not in person but I wanted you to know.”
“You’re forgiven. It was an incredible thing to read.”
“Phew.” She settled back against the headboard. “Now, about that sexting…”
“Let’s stay on this call and see what we can do. I think you could probably manage to be quiet enough.”
And she was.
Knowing I’d be jetlagged and feeling generally meh, we’d kept the training board clear for my first day back, but when I woke a little after six after a slumber full of very explicit dreams about Addie, I decided to head to the barn anyway. I made my way to where Brandon would be in the middle of the morning feeding and stall-cleaning routine.
Rasputin sprinted over to me in the dawn light, chirping frantically. I picked him up, holding him against my chest as I walked into the brightly lit barn. “He’ll be back in a few days, promise,” I told the cat. All the stalls were empty and I could hear horses munching hay in the runs adjoining the building.
Brandon leaned out of stall eight at the far end of the barn. “Hey, mornin’. Didn’t expect to see you.”
“Morning.” I dropped the cat to the barn floor. “Need a hand?”
“You know I’ll never say no.” He made a vague gesture. “Everyone’s been turned out and they’re eating breakfast so it’s just the dirty stuff left.”
“Fine with me.” I collected a wheelbarrow and tools and got to work on stall two. Stall one of course belonged to the King of the Barn himself—Dewey. Currently bare of bedding and smelling faintly of disinfectant it seemed cavernous without his huge personality. No matter, he’d be home soon and lording his position over everyone, horse and human. It wasn’t the first time we’d been separated because of quarantine, but it always made the barn feel weird when he wasn’t around.
Rasputin wound around my feet and generally made a nuisance of himself as I sifted manure from the shavings and dropped it into the wheelbarrow. The mindless work helped settle my brain. A little.
“Hey, Caitlyn?”
“Yeah?” I turned around to find Brandon in the open stall door, holding up his phone to take a photo.
“Smile,” he said and when I leaned on the fork and complied he snapped a few pics. “For ye olde social media accounts,” he explained as he tapped his screen.
“Ah, thanks. This is why I keep you guys around. To make sure I’m hip with all the social stuff.”
He grinned. “And here I was thinking you only kept me because I chill Wren out.”
“That too.” The pictures buzzed through to the phone in my pocket, and I uploaded them to Instagram, Twitter and Facebook with the caption:
Apparently silver and bronze medals in #Rio2016 don’t make you exempt from cleaning stalls. We’re all counting the seconds and keeping busy until #MidfieldsAdieu comes home from quarantine.
#MidfieldsTeamEffort #DirtOnMyFace #BFFRasputin
Within seconds I had my first reaction. Addie Gardner had loved my post. Well she had said she loved me…
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Addie
Saying goodbye to Dewey felt like the final chapter in a book I wasn’t ready to finish. During the week of quarantine, I’d spent most of my days with him and Wren and we’d become good friends. When I asked Wren why she hadn’t flown home to see her fiancée, then come back to drive Dewey to Kentucky at the end of the week, she’d said casually, “I’ll see Brandon soon enough.” We’d made sure Dewey and Pierre were settled for the night and she’d invited me out for dinner. “Another week of being apart isn’t going to kill us.” Her voice dropped and took on a distinctly naughty tone. “And that’s one more week of pent-up horniness to look forward to. You should think about that with Caitlyn and a possible long-distance thing.”
Given Wren had been so involved in putting Caitlyn and me together, and Caitlyn had said Wren was more like a friend and sister, her comment didn’t feel as icky as it could have. “So I’ve heard. But I’m still not one hundred percent sure there’s going to be any thing with us, long distance or not.”
Wren sighed. “I’m about to put my size eleven into this. Just between you and me? Caitlyn Lloyd is a certified Disney princess. Seriously. I’m talking some Snow-White purity-of-heart type shit.”
I had to bite my tongue. Caitlyn certainly wasn’t all pure. Not when she’d had me pinned to the bed and was— Not the time to think about that. Those thoughts were for tonight. And all the nights we’d be apart until we could figure this out.
“Part of her being like that is that she’s naïve about some stuff. For example? Whatever’s going on between you two. Give her a horse and she’s like a Mensa-level genius with a touch of clairvoyant thrown in. But anything relationshippy or to do with her emotions? She’s sitting in the corner wearing a dunce hat.”
“I see.”
Wren lowered the level of beer in her glass by half an inch. “Look, I adore her, I really do. She’s not only a fabulous boss and rider, but she’s a good person and all that being good encompasses. I want her to be happy. You make her happy. Simple.”
Laughing at her no-nonsense explanation of how things were and how she thought they should be, I filled my wineglass from the bottle of red I’d sacrilegiously put into an ice bucket. “I wish it were that simple, but it’s not. There’s a lot of things we have to work out, work through before we even get to the startin’ point of a relationship.”
Nodding slowly, Wren murmured her agreement. “Right. Listen, I know you used to ride, so I know you’re going to understand the well thought out, beer-inspired and very apt metaphor I’m about to impart upon you.”
I sipped my wine. “Lay it on me.”
“If you ask a horse to halt and it doesn’t, are you just going to ignore it and let it keep moving for the rest of time until you’ve cantered to California? No. You’re going to ask again. And maybe again. And sometimes you have to use a firmer aid if the horse doesn’t listen to you. Then they get their reward of softness and support and trust. But! The reason they haven’t listened the first time is the key.” Wren paused, studying me intently and perhaps a little tipsily. “Did they not listen to your aid because they didn’t understand what you said because you weren’t clear? Are they distracted? Afraid? In pain?”
“I think I’ve been very clear,” I murmured.
“Given the time I’ve spent in your company, I’m sure you have been,” Wren agreed. “So why is she running from you? Running through you.”
The answer required no thought. “Because she’s afraid.”
She pointed a forefinger at me “’Xactly! So what do we do with horses who are clear about what you’ve said, but aren’t listening because they’re afraid?”
I grinned. “I’d usually sedate them.”
Wren laughed. “Ah. Yeah, that’s not where I thought we would go with that. Let’s move back to riding instead of vetting, yeah?”
“You show it that it can trust you. That you’re a safe place for it to be.” I peered into my glass. “You have to persist.”
“Bingo. She wants to trust you, she wants to know you’re going to be the safe place. Once she knows that you’re there, that you’re going to be a solid base for her, it’ll all come tumbling into your lap.” She lowered her voice to add, “Caitlyn would rather spend the rest of her life being miserable than think she might have made you unhappy in some way, because if that happens, then it means…” With both eyebrows raised, Wren left the words to hang.
I tried to pick up the words and failed. So we got drunk together.
I’d thought about that dinner conversation nearly every day for the rest of quarantine. I understood my fears about our future, but what was Caitlyn so afraid of? I knew she feared how our lives would rotate around each other like planets in opposing orbits, but aside from that I kept drawing blanks. Until it finally hit me while I was packing to g
o home, like an empty beer can doinked off someone’s head at a football game.
After Elin’s infidelity, aside from fearing more infidelity, Caitlyn feared not being enough. If I made the leap, made a big commitment, moved to Kentucky or whatever and it didn’t work out then it would just exacerbate the feeling that she wasn’t enough, in whatever ways she feared, to keep a partner. Goddammit. This was going to be a tough one to work around. But if I wanted a future with her, which I absolutely did, then I’d have to do everything I could to show her I was in it for real.
Walking back into the practice felt like someone had put a pin in my balloon. I’d driven back from Miami the night before, ignored all my bags, taken a shower and fallen into bed. I’d almost texted Caitlyn to let her know I’d seen Dewey off safely but figured Wren would have told her she was on her way home. Then I thought I might text her to see how she was doing. Maybe ask if she wanted to sext with me. In the end, I’d decided to just let her be while I consoled myself with memories of our time overseas together. That had lasted for about ten minutes before I opened up our text conversation and fell asleep reading her sweet words.
If only that could smother the annoyance that awaited me at work. As expected, Eric had sprawled until my space had been absorbed into his space. I dumped papers, folders, reference books and a plastic container of gummy bears back over to his side and booted up my computer.
My colleagues poked their heads in to welcome me home, ask about my time away, congratulate me on the team success and hype up my ego for how I’d dealt with Dew’s bee sting. I’d sorted my emails and was confirming consults on the day’s schedule when Diana waltzed in, stole Eric’s chair and rolled across the floor toward me. “Just a heads-up, Seth’s in a foul mood.”
