North Oak 3- Morning Glory

by Ann Hunter

  “Will she run in your silks? Have you picked out silks?”

  Brooke hadn’t really thought about it. North had signed the papers and coerced Joe into signing as trainer so Morning Glory could race, but he’d put Brooke’s name on as part owner and said she could race in North Oak’s colors or her own. She couldn’t even think of what she would want on them. Had never given much thought to it.

  “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there?” she offered.

  Dejado shook his head. “That bridge is closer than you think. Let’s get you to the silks office.”

  Brooke looked longingly at Morning Glory. The wishy-washy stuff would have to wait.

  Alex swore she’d be used to this getting up at five in the morning thing by now, but she was still incredibly groggy after staying up and watching a horror movie with Carol, despite her mom urging them to go to bed. She tried to be quiet and let Carol and her mom sleep, but when she got out of the shower, Carol was up, dressed, and ready to go.

  “Morning,” Carol chirped.

  Alex grimaced at her, wondering how she was always so cheerful. They crept out the door and met Brooke in the lobby. Once they arrived at the track, Brooke began to reveal her plan.

  “Since Pop won’t let me train Morning Glory at home, and he won’t let you ride Promenade, we’re going to have a little fun on his dime.”

  Alex’s eyes brightened like it was the best thing she’d heard in forever. She was pretty sure Carol called it the imp. “What did you have in mind?”

  Brooke grinned. “Grab Morning Glory’s gear and I’ll meet you on the track.”

  Alex got Morning Glory ready as Brooke headed off to meet Joe and Promenade.

  “What do you think she’s going to do?” Carol asked, adjusting the straps on the filly’s bridle.

  Alex tightened the girth with a grunt. “Heck if I know. That girl keeps me guessing.”

  Carol gave her a boost into the saddle, and undid the cross ties for her. Alex gathered the reins and headed outside to meet Brooke who was waiting by the rail along with someone else she recognized.

  Dejado.

  “You’re back?” Alex wasn’t even sure if it was a statement or a question, without attaching an eye roll or an oh no to it.

  He bowed. “Hello Ishmael.”

  Carol cocked her head. “Ishmael?”

  He turned and grinned at her, then up at Alex, then over to Brooke.

  Alex frowned at him. “What are you so smug about, Dork-shado?”

  “I’m surrounded by super cute girls. Who wouldn’t be smiling?”

  Alex wanted to gnaw at the pit in her belly as Carol giggled and blushed when Dejado flashed her that dimpled grin, and a suave I don’t believe we’ve met. Why was everyone so goofy around that guy?

  “Okay,” Brooke got her attention back. “I’m going to gallop Pro like Pop wants me to, but I want you to come up behind me. Start slow, then pick up the pace at each pole. Open her up when you catch us. Give Pro something to run at.”

  Alex fastened her helmet and nodded. “Got it.”

  “You sure about this?” Dejado asked.

  Brooke smiled at him, wordlessly urging Promenade into a trot.

  Alex watched her until she got around the turn and picked him up to a canter. She rubbed Morning Glory’s mane and nudged her forward. The filly pulled forward eagerly, following in Promenade’s hoofprints.

  “Nice and easy, babe,” Alex murmured.

  Morning Glory tucked her head, flowing over the track with the dawn light.

  Alex spied Joe at the rail up ahead and grinned. She clucked the filly into a canter, and finally tugged her toward the rail to prepare to gallop. She leaned low over her withers and made sure Joe saw her.

  “Later Gramps!” she cackled as Morning Glory took off like a red rocket. Alex got a kick out of him yelling something unintelligible after them. She put the filly right in the second lane from the rail, her eyes stuck on Promenade’s white tail waving like a flag for them to snatch.

  Morning Glory moved like fluid in a glass, rolling perfectly into each stride. Alex busted out into a grin, relishing the sting of wind on her face.

  She was convinced that if there was a God, His name was Speed, and He was a god of joy, and adrenaline, and glory. And this filly was part of Him. And so was Promenade who they were ganging up on.

  Alex let the reins out a notch and Morning Glory picked up the slack without even a second breath. She surged forward, opening up just like Brooke had wanted. It was like pushing a button and away the machine went.

  She let her go two more notches as they reached the colt’s flank, then pulled even with him. Morning Glory and Promenade glared eachother down, both as willful as the other. Alex crouched as low as she could, trying to move as fluidly as Mags did. She listened to the horses’ rhythmic breathing, thunderous in her soul.

  It was like something clicked in her and Morning Glory, like the filly suddenly ‘got it’. No sooner has Brooke yelled, “Go, baby, go!” than Morning Glory exploded in a gear she’d never shown Alex, and completely shut down Promenade.

  Alex only had to hang on and stay out of her way, not believing the power she felt beneath her. Brooke’s delighted whoop was nearly lost on the breeze.

  When the crossed under the shadow of Churchill Down’s spires, Alex rose in the stirrups and let the filly gallop out. Morning Glory ran another half lap around the track before easing to a jog, tossing her head as though she was exceptionally pleased with herself.

  Alex pounded her neck proudly, letting her know how awesome she was. Brooke caught up to them, breathlessly. “I can’t believe what I saw.”

  Alex laughed. “You weren’t the one riding it out.”

  “It’s an amazing thing, isn’t it?” Brooke beamed. “That feeling of being connected to something like that. Like you can’t even tell where you end and she begins.”

  Alex turned the filly back toward the barn. “Electric in your hands and a heartbeat between your knees. There’s nothing better.”

  Brooke smiled at her, keeping Promenade in check. “I’ve missed us.”

  “Me too,” Alex admitted.

  “Thank you for sticking with me, even though I was a jerk.”

  Alex shrugged. “Takes one to know one.”

  Brooke was exhausted from nerves by the time Morning Glory’s race rolled around. She didn’t want the filly to pick up on the bad vibe and tried to keep her distance, no matter how hard it was. She hoped that what she saw in the breeze Promenade and the filly had shared was enough to get Morning Glory’s head in the game too.

  Brooke raided Pop’s antacids before leading Mags down to the receiving area for the race. She was beginning to understand why McGill made that noise all the time.

  As she saddled her filly, Brooke wasn’t quite sure if her constant “Y’got this. Y’got this.” Was for her or for Morning Glory. The filly swung her head around and looked at her with those deep eyes, probably wondering what in the world was going on with her.

  When Dejado showed up to ride for her, Brooke could barely stand how handsome he looked. And in her own silks, no less.

  She had chosen silks with an ouroboros on the back, like the Auryn in the Never Ending Story. Those two snakes sort of felt like the fight inside herself, and yet there was still the whisper of Do what you wish.

  Brooke kept her cool and gave him his instructions as she gave him a leg up into the saddle. She followed them to the rail and passed them off to the outrider, closing her eyes and praying for a miracle.

  “I wish…”

  FISH’N’CHIPS

  “And down the stretch they come,” the announcer called. “Alabama Slamma and Morning Glory duking it out for the lead.”

  Brooke shook from head to toe. “Sweet baby Jesus, she’s going to do it!”

  Alex and Carol screamed beside her. “C’mon Mags.”

  Dejado rode low on the filly, driving her hard. He waved his whip by her head, then popped her twice.
Morning Glory turned over another gear and dug deep, staring down the other filly.

  “Noses apart,” the announcer’s voice rang. “Here comes the wire. Too close to call.”

  Brooke could hardly breathe. “Was her head up or down?”

  Alex punched her arm. “Who cares? She was amazing.”

  Brooke stared at the infield tote board, waiting for the stewards to figure out who came out ahead in the photo finish. It mattered to her that Morning Glory’s head was down at the wire, because that gave her a better chance of having a nose in front.

  Even though it was only a minute or two, waiting for the results to post felt like an agonizing eternity. Finally, glowing numbers flashed on the board.

  Carol’s mom caught Brooke as she nearly fainted. She hugged her, laughing, “Congratulations.”

  Brooke wanted to say she couldn’t believe it, but the words refused to form. She braced against Charlotte, feeling a little embarrassed.

  Alex playfully high-fived Brooke in the face. “A little slow there, tiger.”

  Brooke smiled sheepishly and righted herself as Dejado and Morning Glory trotted past them to the winners circle. He winked at them and chucked them his whip, shuffling his dirty goggles onto the brim of his helmet.

  His eyes, framed by dirt from the heat of battle, almost glowed. He seemed just as happy and excited as Brooke.

  Carol, Alex, and Charlotte nudged Brooke towards the winners circle. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Yeah. Get in there.”

  Brooke looked to either side of her, surrounded by smiles and people she loved. “Not without you guys.”

  She took Morning Glory’s bride and planted the sloppiest kiss she could right between her nostrils, and that’s when the camera flashed.

  And Dejado beaming down at her, with nothing but admiration and a “You did it!” look in his eyes, made Brooke pretty sure this was the best day ever.

  Brooke stood in the supermarket aisle staring at potato chips, hugging a bag of swedish fish to her chest; the cherry gummy ones you either love or hate. She hoped Dejado liked them, because she really wanted to make their relationship work. She wanted to be to him whatever he’d let her be to him.

  She couldn’t decide on the chips, though. Barbeque or sour cream and onion? Or was Dejado more of a Doritos guy?

  She couldn’t tell. Chips and salsa? Cheesy puffs?

  He was kind of a cheesy puff, but they weren’t chips. Yes, yes, she knew chips from wherever she thought he was from were really french fries, which aren’t even French.

  She thought it was dumb when people got all politically correct and said things like Freedom Fries, Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas, and nitpick over whether to call soda Coke or Pop.

  Coke sounded really good right now. Even though it’s not really a coke. Maybe she’d get Pop a Coke.

  Okay, focus. Barbeque or sour cream and onion?

  Brooke looked down at the king size bag of swedish fish and thought how the barbeque chips were a similar color as the gummies she held. Plus the pseudo-cherry might compliment the hot tang of the chips.

  Even though they could only be friends right now, she couldn’t help think of him in that other way. Which also made her think of their relationship. Sour cream and onion. It was a statement.

  She soured him, and he made her cry.

  Would Barbeque send the wrong message? Hot tang, Dejado.

  She found him hanging around North Oak’s barn on Churchill’s backside talking to Mr. North. As she approached, North smiled. “I see you have company. I won’t keep you. You’ll consider my offer, won’t you, Mr. Augustun?”

  Dejado nodded, and North shuffled off. Dejado turned to Brooke, oggling the food she carried. “What’s this?”

  “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for what I did. I was being an idiot.” Brooke lifted the two bags, offering them to him. “Wanna hang out for fish and chips? No strings attached. Promise.”

  Dejado smiled, slipping an arm around her shoulder. “Aw, Egg.” He opened the potato chip bag, giving her a squeeze. “I’ll always be game for fish and chips with you.”

  “Always?”

  He split a chip between them, his cheeks dimpled. “As friends go, you’re my best gal. So, yeah.” He winked. “Always.”

  TWO MASTERS

  Alex’s eyes narrowed when she saw Dejado by Venus Nights’s stall back home. “Why are you here? Did you follow us home like some pathetic puppy?”

  He turned to her. “I’m tired of bouncing around track to track. I want to race, but I also want to settle down somewhere, and I can’t do that just anywhere now that I’ve met you. Mr. North offered me an apartment here in exchange for work, and I’m going to take it.”

  “Why here? Why me?”

  “You don’t try to be someone you’re not. I think that’s what put me off from Brooke. She kept trying too hard. I see into your eyes and there’s something there that’s afraid of the storm, but your face says you are the storm. You’re a warrior, and that’s beautiful.”

  No one had ever said anything like that to her before. She softened a little, still guarded, and definitely self conscious. “You think I’m beautiful?”

  He smiled, reaching for her hand. “I know you are.”

  Alex tripped and banged her knee on the kitchen table. “Damn this stupid friggin mother fudging…” She gritted her teeth, then blurted out, “Mary, Jesus, Joseph. I hate this table.”

  Hillary, who had been sitting there pouring over some veterinary files, grabbed her rattled coffee mug. “Are you okay?”

  Alex rubbed her leg, grimacing. “No.”

  “Do you want an oil for your leg? I can get you— ”

  “I don’t want any of your voodoo,” Alex snapped. “Okay?”

  “What’s really eating you?”

  Alex ran her hand through her hair, making up an excuse. Dejado had her reeling. “North won’t tell me anything about my mother, or why you haven’t adopted me.”

  “He’s not ready to talk yet. Give him time.” Hillary sipped her coffee. “It will all come out with time.”

  “How is that fair to me? Don’t I deserve to know about her?”

  “You do, but it’s also a very touchy topic for him.”

  “Is there anything you can tell me about her?”

  Hillary set her mug down. Her hand still gripped the ceramic as she swallowed. She pursed her lips in a similar way as Mr. North did. Why were adults so secretive and weird?

  Alex inhaled unsteadily.

  “She was beautiful,” Hillary finally said. “She was kind. Such a big heart. She was funny, too, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “North said I have her eyes.”

  Hillary nodded. “Every once and again, I catch a glimpse of her when you walk by. It’s hard sometimes.”

  “Do you know where she is? Do you know why she gave me up?”

  “I’m sorry. She’s dead.”

  Alex bit her lip, hit by an unexpected feeling of grief for someone she’d never met. A raw nerve that didn’t hurt quite so much as losing Ashley, but it was such a familiar, hollow thing. “So I’m alone.”

  Hillary reached for her hand, but Alex pulled away.

  “No, no. You don’t have to explain. Just…” She turned for the stairs and headed up them. “I’ll be in my room.”

  She didn’t feel much in the mood for dinner and decided to go to bed early. Although she couldn’t help overhearing the Showmans talking quietly at the table downstairs when they thought she was asleep.

  “We were broken. This family needed healing. It needed Alex,” Cade said.

  “She was broken too,” Laura murmured. “She needed us.”

  Cade agreed. “She still does.”

  “We need eachother.”

  Laura asked, “What can we do to show her that?”

  “I have an idea,” said Hillary.

  Alex opened her door groggily the next morning to be met with Laura shovi
ng a chocolate caramel egg into her mouth. “Happy Easter.”

  “Shower and dress, please,” Hillary called up the stairs. “We’re going to Easter mass.”

  Alex squinted at Laura, chewing the goodie slowly. “Do I have to?”

  She saw Hillary peer up the stairs with a look that clearly said this was not negotiable.

  Alex groaned and turned back in to her room with Hillary calling behind her, “I love when you speak Cavegirl to me. It’s poetic, like Hemingway.”

  Laura giggled.

  Alex rolled her eyes and shut her door a little too hard.

  “No man can serve two masters,” the pastor said.

  Hillary squeezed Alex’s shoulder gently, a placid smile on her face. Alex glanced between Carol and Dejado, who must have noticed her gaze from the corner of his eye because those dimples started to come out.

  The pastor continued. “For either he will hate the one, and love other, or else he will hold to the one and despise the other.”

  Alex inched her palm closer to Carol’s hand until their pinkies touched. Carol smirked and linked their fingers, sending a shiver up Alex’s arm. She looked away to Brooke who was smiling down at the phone she’d bought with Morning Glory’s winnings. Alex could just barely make out the outline of their winners circle photo.

  “For where your treasure lies,” murmured the pastor, “there too shall be your heart.”

  The words rang in Alex’s ears. She wondered where her own heart lay. Brooke had found her treasure. Where was Alex’s?

  Surviving didn’t feel like enough anymore, and that’s what she realized she’d still been doing all along, just… differently.

  She wanted to live. Where did that even begin?

  FAMILIES ARE FOREVER

  After Easter dinner was cleared and the table cleaned, the Showmans sat down with Alex.

  “What do you see when you look at this table?” Hillary asked.

  “Uh… wood?” Alex answered.

  “Look deeper. On the surface, it looks polished and clean. But when you look past that, there’s scratches, and scars, and dings. This table represents our family. It’s not perfect. But it’s well worn and deeply loved, and there’s a seat for everyone. Someone will always be at this table. Because that’s what a family is.”