“Do you think you should apologize?”
“No, I don’t think I should apologize. The rules are you race the horse as if it were the Derby. It’s my rule, and Emmie knows the rule. She flaunts her disregard of the rules. She’s forever breaking them.”
“Is it because they’re your rules, do you think?”
“I guess so. When you run a farm the size of Blue Diamond, and if you’re going to run the Derby, there have to be rules in place. It was the first thing I learned from Maud and Jess. The rules were already in place. I simply kept up with them. Emmie thumbs her nose at rules. Is that why someone else has to take care of her, oversee her well-being?”
The hard edge in Nealy’s voice did not go unnoticed.
“She’s never been on her own,” Nealy went on. “She probably couldn’t survive. God knows what would happen to her daughter, Gabby, if she didn’t have the nest egg set up for her. I was her protector in the beginning. Then it was Maud and Jess. Then she came back to me, and after me came Buddy. After Buddy it was Nick and Hatch. Then she got sick and the rehab staff took care of her. Before she left there, she had her father on the line as her backup, and once again, she lucked out.”
“There are some people like that, Nealy. They have to have what you call a protector. They’re afraid to be alone. Sometimes people like that can’t function without someone overseeing their day-to-day life. I’m treating you, not Emmie. What is it that you want or expect from your daughter? Do you know? Do you want her out there busting her ass like you used to do? Do you want her to grovel to you in thanks for giving her a good life? Do you want her to be like you, or don’t you? Which is it, Nealy? When did this turn into a competition?”
Nealy stormed to her feet. “You’re the shrink, you figure it out. I’m just here to give voice to my feelings and actions. Right now you remind me of my first husband Hunt. He used to say I had a black heart. You ask me all this crap, and when I tell you, you do what you did a few weeks ago. You make me feel like a piece of scum. I don’t like that. Who said it was a competition?”
The doctor looked straight up at her patient but was at a disadvantage because Nealy was standing, towering over her. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“You got me so riled up, I can’t even remember what the question was.”
“The question was, do you or don’t you want your daughter to be like you?”
Nealy stared down at the doctor for so long Liz thought she was going to have to repeat the question.
“No. I don’t want Emmie to be like me. She’s weak, she’s ineffectual, and you can’t depend on her. She also whines. Sometimes I hate to admit she’s my daughter because she’s nothing like I am. She takes after her father.”
“Is Nick like Emmie?”
“Of course not. Nick is tough. He has the courage of his convictions. I respect that. There’s very little to respect with Emmie.”
“Do you suppose she knows that?”
“I don’t know,” Nealy said, sitting down.
“In my opinion, it would be very hard to live up to the great Nealy Coleman, Diamond, Clay, Littletree. For heaven’s sake, for starters you have four last names. It must be very hard to live with the knowledge that you don’t measure up in your mother’s eyes. A mother’s approval is so important to a child and even a young adult. I have patients who are in their sixties, their parents in their late eighties who are still seeking parental approval. Some people just give up. Some keep striving. Some look for substitutes.”
“So I failed my daughter.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Yes, it’s what I think. I failed her. I can’t change or undo the past. I can’t be or do something I don’t feel. I’m not that way. I don’t see myself changing either. I’m too old to go by a new set of rules. Emmie’s happy now. She has someone to take care of her and love her. She has a daughter. Perhaps she’ll be kinder to her daughter than I was to her. I think we have come full circle, don’t you, Doctor?”
“Yes, Nealy, I think we have. I hope you’ll check in with me from time to time. I’ll always be here for you if you need me.”
Nealy gathered up her purse. “That’s nice to know. Are you going to the Derby?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Who should I bet on?”
Nealy laughed, a strangely hollow sound. “Bet half on Hifly and half on Gadfly. Both riders are top-notch. Both horses are exceptional. They’re up against some stiff competition, but I think our horses are the best. Look who their sire is. I guess I’ll see you around sometime.”
“Take care, Nealy.” Liz held out her hand, and Nealy shook it.
“You, too.”
It didn’t hit her till she was in the car. She was finished. Liz had discharged her. She was free. Almost two solid months of therapy, six days a week, and suddenly she was finished. Prior to the session that day there had been no indication her therapy was ending. She frowned. Had Liz given up on her? Was that why she was discharged? Or was it the statement she made about not changing? Did it even matter?
Nealy drove home with the windows down, the wind ruffling her hair. She turned the radio on to a Golden Oldies station and sang along with Frank Sinatra, who was warbling about doing it his way. Her fingers drummed on the steering wheel to the beat of the music.
It wasn’t a long ride back to the farm, but she made it longer by driving forty-five miles an hour to the annoyance of other drivers behind her. When they blew their horns and passed her, she waved. She continued to sing along with Frank.
At the entrance to Blue Diamond Farms, Nealy brought her car to a stop to admire the bronze statues of Flyby and Shufly. She smiled, remembering how Hunt had given her the bronze of Flyby for her birthday and Nick had commissioned the one of Shufly before she ran him in the Derby. She was always in awe when she stopped to look at the sculptures.
Pictures of the two magnificent horses, father and son, had over the years graced the front covers of just about every Thoroughbred, equestrian, and Kentucky magazine printed. The memories of their races would go down in the annals of racing history. She felt her chest puff out with pride.
Whatever she was, whatever she’d accomplished in her reign at Blue Diamond Farms, was because of these two spectacular steeds.
Flyby was gone now, and Shufly belonged to Metaxas Parish. All she had was Gadfly to remind her of her glory years. She wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.
Trips down Memory Lane were for other people, not for her. What a lie that was. She stomped on the gas pedal, the BMW kicking up gravel and dust as she careened down the road.
An urgency she’d never experienced before overtook her. She bolted from the car and ran to the one place that had always calmed her—the stallion cemetery, a sanctuary that had soothed her so many times she’d lost count.
When she’d first arrived at Blue Diamond Farms, Maud had showed her the cemetery. She remembered how much in awe she’d been that day. Back then it hadn’t been a pretty place. Now it was a long, narrow area with a circle in the middle with iron benches and colorful pots of bright flowers. The right side was the human cemetery, the left side, the Thoroughbred cemetery. Beautiful, pruned shrubbery grew between the graves, affording each site privacy. Each grave had a stone, lovingly carved by a stonemason. She walked the length of the cemetery, pausing at Dancer’s grave. How she’d loved that horse. The same horse that had thrown Maud and crippled her for life. Without Dancer, she would never have been able to train his son Flyby.
Nealy dropped to her knees and dug a little hole in the grass at the base of the stone. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of mints and dropped them into the hole. She carefully covered it back up, tears rolling down her cheeks. She did the same thing when she made her way to Flyby’s grave, only this time hard sobs racked her body. She rocked back and forth on the grassy carpet, choking and sobbing as she let her misery overtake her.
She felt ancient when she finally got t
o her feet and made her way to one of the iron benches under the angel oak that she’d planted herself forty-one years earlier. Back then it had just been a stick of a tree with a few leaves. Now it was huge, at least fifty feet tall, with full, thick branches shading almost the entire cemetery. It always reminded her of a giant umbrella. She’d often sat on the bench under the tree in the rain and never felt a drop.
Nealy stared across at the three graves she’d visited so often—Maud, Jess, and her first husband Hunt. Once a month for as long as she could remember, she had flowers delivered for the cemetery, even in the winter. Daisies for Maud, Jess, and Hunt. A blanket of red roses for Dancer and Flyby.
Her bottom lip drew down in a bitter, hard line when she looked at Maud’s grave. “I feel like you betrayed me, Maud. I feel like you used me. I gave you and this farm my heart and my soul because I was so grateful to you for taking me in and giving my daughter and me a home. I sacrificed my daughter and my life for you and this farm. I couldn’t do it all. God knows I tried. I gave you my daughter, and I gave you two Triple Crowns. I think my debt is paid off now.
“This place was never really mine, and you know what, that’s okay, too. I know that now. I think, and I’m not sure of this, but I think you wanted me to get to this point in time so that it could all go to Emmie, whom you loved with all your heart. I think you loved her as much as you loved this farm. I was just the means to get her ready to take it over. Right or wrong, Maud, that’s how I see it. Things are still jumbled up in my mind, but I know I can sort it all out, and I will, sooner or later.
“I realize now I don’t want this farm. There was a time when I thought I did. There was a time when I thought I wanted so many things. I should have left those things as just thoughts and never acted on them.
“I’m never coming back here, Maud, so I’ll say good-bye now. Hey, Hunt, are you listening to all this?” Nealy leaned her head back and closed her eyes. . . .
“That was some speech you just offered up. What’s got your panties in a wad this time?”
“Go away, Hunt. I’m not in the mood to talk to you today. I’m pissy enough without having to listen to one of your sermons. I’m saying good-bye to you, too. I’m never going to come back to this cemetery. You all betrayed me. I gave and gave and gave, and you all took and took and took. No more.”
“No, no, no. It doesn’t work like that. You did what you did because you wanted to do it. No one held your feet to the fire. You were hell-bent on proving you could do it all. You almost did, too. You were so busy trying to be perfect you forgot to have a life, and you forgot you had a family. You’re human. Everyone makes mistakes, but if you learn from those mistakes, you can go on with your life. I can see you’re pretty damn miserable right now.”
“Is this where you offer up sage advice? If so, I don’t want to hear it. Go fluff up a cloud or something and leave me alone.”
“Your brain is whirling and twirling. What are you going to do?”
“None of your business. I managed to get this far in my life, and I think I can get the rest of the way without your help.”
“Get off it, Nealy. You see what you want to see. You also have selective hearing. All that crap you were handing out about Emmie and Nick is pure bullshit, and you know it. You had help along the way. Where would you be without Maud and Jess and all the people who run this farm? Where, Nealy? You could have ended up at some farm, cooking or mucking barn stalls and living in some scrubby trailer if Maud and Jess hadn’t taken you in. Don’t ever say you did it on your own. Maybe Emmie can do it, and maybe she can’t. Nick did it. He’s off on his own. You’re real big on verbalizing how Emmie screwed up things but you’re no shrinking violet to screwups yourself, now are you?”
“Leave me alone, Hunt. I’m too tired to talk to you. Why do you keep showing up when I’m feeling at my worst?”
“Because that’s when you need me the most. How’s it going with my buddy, Hatch?”
“That’s none of your business either. Is Emmie going to win the Derby?”
“Like I know. Get real, Nealy. I think it’s going to be one of those races that go down in history. There’s a horse running that’s every bit as good as Spectacular Bid. You must be feeling a little sad that you aren’t racing. Did you hang up your silks?”
“Yes, I did. That was another life. I’m a senior citizen, and that means I’m old now in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“You’re only as old as you feel, Nealy.”
“What do you think about Gadfly?”
“Great horse. You did a good job training him. You gotta watch that rebellious streak in him. I wish Hifly had just a smidgen of that streak in him. Reminds me of a big pony, but he’s all heart. I think he’s better than John Henry on his best day.”
“Aunt Nealy! Oh, there you are! I thought I’d find you here. I saw you drive in earlier and then you disappeared,” Jake said, sitting down next to her.
“I guess I dozed off. Is anything wrong? How’s Lee? What did the doctor say?”
“Are you okay, Aunt Nealy? You look like you’ve been crying. Is there anything I can do?”
Nealy patted the boy’s knee. “No, nothing is wrong. I always cry when I come out here. You didn’t answer me, how’s Lee?”
“They wanted him to stay for some tests, but he refused. They gave him some antacids.” He looked away when he said, “Cordell said he had a mess of trapped gas.”
“Well, that’s a relief. Are you sure he’s okay?”
“He said he was. The whole family gets here tomorrow night. Somehow or other they all managed to get rooms at the Inn. I’m real anxious to see them all. I hope they aren’t disappointed that I’m not riding.”
“There will be other races, Jake. You’ve come a long way. I’m so proud of you I could just bust. I can’t wait for your mom to see you riding out on Blue Diamond’s track. That is going to be the highlight of her visit, not the Derby.”
Jake reached for her hand and squeezed it. “If Emmie hadn’t come back and taken over with Hifly, would you really have let me ride him in the Derby?”
“You bet I would have. You’re good enough to ride Gadfly, too. What’s your feeling on that?” Nealy asked curiously.
Jake laughed. “The same as yours. I didn’t want to sound conceited.” This time it was Nealy’s turn to laugh.
“Spoken like a true jockey. Did Hatch say what he wanted?”
“No, he just wanted to know where you were because he saw your car and knew you were home. I said I would try to find you.”
“I’m just going to sit here a minute longer. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”
“Okay, see you later, Aunt Nealy.”
When Jake was out of sight, Nealy walked the length of the cemetery one last time. She offered up a snappy salute when she passed Dancer’s and Flyby’s graves. She knew she would never come there again. “So long, Hunt.”
“See ya, Nealy.”
Instead of going down to the main barn or up to the house, Nealy circled around the stallion barn and headed for the old structure that had been falling down when she first arrived there. The structure where Maud and Jess had hidden the pickup truck she’d stolen from Josh Coleman. The old building had been renovated years ago but the truck, now over fifty years old, still sat in the building. She never knew why, but from time to time she would walk out, open the doors, and stare at the truck that had brought her to Blue Diamond Farms. It was a blue truck, and she thought the color appropriate. Once she had actually climbed into the driver’s seat but had scrambled out a second later when harsh memories flooded back to overwhelm her.
It was an ugly, old Ford truck unlike the new Ford Rangers that were all over the farm. She turned on the light, walked over to the driver’s side of the car, and opened it. She touched the leather, certain it would crumble and crack beneath her touch. She was surprised when the old leather rose up to meet her fingers. It felt supple and soft. The key was still in the ignition. She climbed in
and grabbed hold of the wheel. Her hand went to the key, and automatically turned it. She was stunned to hear the engine turn over. It purred. Literally purred. She’d run out of gas when she arrived. Who put the gas in the tank? Who kept the engine primed? She whirled around to see Cordell Lancer standing in the driveway. She climbed out of the truck. Her eyes were full of questions.
“I can tell you what I know, Nealy. I don’t know the why of any of it, though. It seems Mrs. Diamond left orders that this here truck was always to be maintained. Like forever and ever. The farm manager that worked here when she was alive was to see to it till he retired. He then passed the job on to Dover Wilkie, who passed it on to me when I signed on with Emmie at his retirement. Dover put a new engine in it the year he retired. It’s always got a full tank of gas. We work on it from time to time, tune it up, and I take it for a spin every two weeks or so. Maintaining this fine old vehicle came with the job description. There was another part to that job description, Nealy. It said the cargo in the back was never to be disturbed and always kept covered. You could drive this car all the way to Alaska. Put new tires on it myself about eight months ago. Perfectly balanced.”
“Why?” Nealy whispered.
“I don’t know, Nealy. Dover just told me it was part of my job the way it was for him when he took over. The main order came down from Maud Diamond, and that’s all I know. No, there’s one other thing I do know: the cargo in the back . . . ain’t never looked at it and don’t know what it is. Not my business. Dover now, he said he didn’t never look at it neither. Do ya want to take her out for a spin? I’m thinking this old truck has some kind of special meaning to you, Nealy. If you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll pretend I never seen you in here.”
Kentucky Sunrise Page 28
