The Summer of Lost Things

by Chantele Sedgwick

  Grapefruit and flip-flops.

  Why flip-flops, you ask? I can’t stand that little plastic piece that goes between my toes. It’s so uncomfortable. And my feet get all dirty when I wear them. Also, they make me trip. A lot.

  And grapefruit, for obvious taste bud reasons. Too tart. And weird. Why the heck did they name it grapefruit when it tastes nothing like grapes? I don’t get it. They should just name it gross instead.

  As I head downstairs the next morning for breakfast, what do I find in the living room? Mom eating a grapefruit, dressed in sweats, her hair on top of her head in a messy ponytail, and yes, you guessed it, flip-flops on her feet.

  Bright orange flip-flops.

  “Please tell me you haven’t left the house this morning,” I say, taking in her appearance.

  She nods toward the kitchen where several grocery bags sit, waiting to be put away.

  I groan. “Mom. What if someone saw you?”

  “Lot’s of people saw me. A few people I knew when I lived here before, and lots I didn’t.” She smiles, lifting the spoon to her mouth and eating a piece of grapefruit. “I was at the store, Lucy, so of course there were people there. I’m not the only one who goes to the store in the morning.”

  “And you didn’t care that they saw you like that?”

  She shakes her head. “Why would I care about what people think of me? It’s not their place to judge.”

  “They still do judge, though,” I mutter under my breath. At least she’s in a good mood this morning compared to last night.

  “I don’t care if they do,” she says.

  “I know you don’t.” Then my eyes fall on her shirt.

  Or, more importantly, my shirt.

  “Mom?” I stare at her. She stares back, an innocent look in her eyes. “Why are you wearing my shirt?” The question comes out whiney, but I can’t help it. It’s my favorite book-ish shirt!

  “It’s fantastic.” She looks down, admiring my Talk Darcy To Me shirt.

  “For me. It’s fantastic for me!”

  “Hey, I’m allowed to like Pride and Prejudice, too. I read it and loved it before you did.”

  “But you’re old . . .” I trail off at the look she gives me. “-ish,” I finish. “You can’t wear stuff like that! You’re a mom!”

  She grins. “A single mom.”

  “Oh my gosh. You’re killing me, Mom.”

  She stands and bows. “My work here is done.” She starts toward the kitchen. “Oh, and I totally rock the old-ish look.”

  I stare at her as she struts into the kitchen then let out a sigh and follow her.

  She puts her plate in the sink and I sit at the counter, watching her. “Grapefruit?” she asks, knowing very well that I hate them.

  “No.”

  “Your loss,” she says.

  I stare at her twisting a strand of hair around her finger as she looks at her phone. I don’t know how she doesn’t care about what she looks like right now. Or the fact that she actually went out in public like that. “How are you so confident with yourself?”

  She puts her phone in her pocket and is quiet for a minute. She grabs a rag and wipes off the counter, her brows pinched in thought. “You know, I haven’t always been confident. When I was your age, I didn’t care what people thought and was confident with myself and with pretty much everything, honestly. Through the early parts of my marriage, I was that person, too. But when Dad started having problems, it changed me. It got to the point where I worried about everything. What other people thought of me, how they saw me. What they were saying about Dad behind my back. Our marriage. You. When we have certain trials, everyone seems to have a lot of opinions and don’t always keep them to themselves like they should. People are nosy. And some like to tell you how to live your life. Which, in turn, made things worse for me and my self-esteem.”

  “Really?” She sounds like I feel too often. I worry. All the time. “How did you get over it?”

  She shrugs as she sets the rag on the table. “I woke up one day and finally realized this was my life. I had a beautiful daughter to take care of and I wanted her to see the confident me again. Not the person I was becoming. With everything I’ve been through, concerning your father especially, I realized the happy person I used to be was missing. I knew I couldn’t find myself again alone, though, so I started to open up to people. I told my story. I went to counseling. My support group back home, remember? Talking with those people who had different, but similar experiences as I did made me realize everyone is dealing with something. Experiences change you. But you can still be who you want to be if you work for it. So I worked for it. And realized people matter. Even if they suffer from an addiction or were married to an addict, or whatever. Every person matters. Everyone is struggling with something we usually can’t see. But if there’s a way to help others, with things I’ve gone through, I’ll help them. And to do that, I can’t worry about what other people think of me. I can love myself, no matter what has happened in the past and I can be who I want to be. My choices are and were my choices and I’ll own them. They’ve helped me grow. The good and the bad. They’ve made me and us,” she gestures to me, “stronger.”

  I think about my lie. About Dad. I’m not as strong as she is. I especially worry how people will see me once the truth about Dad comes out. I don’t know why. It’s not like he’s here or is a threat to anyone. And I’m not a threat either, but still. The truth sucks sometimes. “Why is it so hard, though? I don’t want people to know things about my life. Especially the past.”

  “You don’t have to tell anyone anything if you’re not ready. But someday, you’ll be ready, and you can provide comfort to those who are going through the same thing. And you’ll be okay to talk about it. You won’t care what people think. It might take a while to get to that place, but you’ll get there. Promise.”

  “Going to the store in your pajamas is very different than telling people my dad’s in prison.”

  She laughs and puts the rag in the sink before washing her hands. “It is, but they are kind of the same. I don’t care what people think when I go to the store like this. It’s comfortable and it’s me. But it makes others uncomfortable because they think I should dress another way or they think I don’t care about my appearance. Which I do, but why should I get all dressed up to go shopping for groceries? Shouldn’t I want to be comfortable?”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, you have a point.”

  “And with your father. He has struggled with addictions for years. He’s where he is because of his own choices, not mine. I tried everything I could to help him. I tried so many times to get him the help he needed, but when it comes down to it, I can’t change him. I couldn’t make him go to rehab if he didn’t want to. He’s an adult. He’s the only one who can change himself. And I couldn’t wait around for something he may never do.”

  Tears fill my eyes and I look away from her, blinking them back. She’s right.

  She comes around the table and wraps her arms around me. “I’m sorry I freaked out last night. I know you’re having a hard time. I’ve just spent so many nights worrying about your father, among other things, and I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you. You’re all I care about. You’re my whole world. I just worry. That’s all. I’m sorry.”

  “I know you do,” I whisper.

  “Things will get better. I promise.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  She pulls away and tucks my hair behind my ear. “You know, maybe I’ll go chop my hair and dye it purple. Not just a little purple, though. The whole thing. Then we’d be twinsies.”

  I roll my eyes. “Mom, please don’t say twinsies.”

  “But it’s so fun!”

  “And no purple hair.”

  She laughs. “I’m teasing. I love you, Luce.”

  “Love you, too.”

  My phone beeps and I pull it out of my pocket.

  It’s a message from Mira.

  Mira: The girls are
getting together to ride horses today. Wanna join?

  Me: I have no idea how to ride a horse. So, probably not. Thank you though.

  Mira: Will teach U.

  Mira: Come on.

  Mira: It’ll be fun.

  Mira: Promise.

  Mira: Hello?

  Mira: I know you’re reading these. I can see that they’ve been read.

  Mira: Luuuuuccccyyyyyy

  Me: Okay! I’ll come.

  Mira: I knew you’d see things my way. Meeting at noon at the stables. K?

  Me: K

  Mira: Wear pants.

  I laugh at that.

  Me: How did you know I was going to come pantless?

  Mira: I had my suspicions.

  I laugh out loud again and set the phone down. “Mira wants me to come over. Is that okay?”

  Mom, like always, hesitates before smiling. “I guess. Just be home before dinner, okay? We need to take the wallpaper down in the living room.”

  I let out a happy sigh. “Finally. Finally, we can repaint that hideous yellow room.”

  “It’ll be a good time. Also, girls’ night tonight. We’re watching a chick flick and eating all the snacks you want.”

  “Sounds great, Mom.”

  CHAPTER 17

  “Oh! if people knew what a comfort to a horse a light hand is . . .”

  —Anna Sewell, Black Beauty

  Mira waits for me near the stable doors, a huge grin on her face. “Riding horses is the perfect thing to do to cross something new off your list. Wasn’t it learn a new skill? Do something scary?”

  “This could work for either since I wasn’t really expecting to work with an actual animal when I wrote them. I’ll probably cross off learn a new skill. Even though I’ll probably make a fool of myself trying to ride a horse.”

  “Still. It’s gonna be great. We’re just going to ride around for a while. Nothing hard. Yet.”

  “Yeah . . . easy for you to say. I’ve never ridden a horse.”

  I follow Mira into the stable where the girls from the beach are waiting. Tiffany, Kay, and Summer. Of course. They all smile as I enter, saying quick hellos.

  “Am I the only one who’s never done this?” I ask.

  Everyone nods, looking apologetic.

  “I only learned about a year ago,” Tiffany says. “It’s not too bad. Alex hates it. He never comes riding with me.” She leans toward me. “He’s kind of a wimp.”

  I laugh at that.

  “How long have you been together?”

  “Three years.”

  “You’re super cute together.”

  She blushes. “Thanks.”

  “You ride?” I ask Kay.

  “I’ve done jumping for years,” Kay says. “I used to compete, but I don’t love it, so I stopped. I just ride for fun now. My older brother competes nationally, though. He still likes the thrill. I couldn’t handle the pressure. For me and my horse.”

  “She’s excellent,” Summer says. “I’ve grown up with horses, but I’ve never competed in anything. Several of our horses board here. The Kelly family takes such good care of their boarders. They love them like their own.” Summer walks over to a stall and pets a chestnut horse. “A lot of people don’t appreciate horses for what they are. They’re so intelligent and loving. They just need someone to respect them and care for them like they deserve.”

  “They are beautiful,” I say.

  She smiles. “They are. We’ve rescued a few. I wish I could rescue them all. Seeing a mistreated horse makes me sick. I want to open a horse refuge when I’m older. I’m going to school to be an equine veterinarian.”

  She notices the look on my face.

  “A horse doctor,” she says with a wink.

  “Sorry. I don’t speak horse lingo.”

  “I totally get it.” She smiles and it’s genuine.

  I think of Black Beauty. He had a hard life but ended up with humans who finally cared about him like they did when he was a colt. This place holds happy horses that are well cared for and loved. I can tell by the way Mira and Jack treat their animals and how clean everything is. Kelly Stables is truly a wonderful place.

  “I’ll be honest. Horses scare me a little bit.”

  She smiles, nodding. “They can be intimidating if you haven’t been around them a lot. But most around here are very tame and love human affection. Give them a good grooming or a treat and they’ll be your best friend.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.”

  I’m impressed with Summer’s kindness and ambition to go to school to care for horses. Even if she has feelings for Jack and maybe thinks of me as a threat, since I sort of have feelings for him too, she’s still been nice to me. I vow to be nice back and to be her friend. I need friends. I don’t need to make enemies over a boy. No matter how cute he may be.

  I turn toward Mira, who’s talking to Tiffany near the door. “So, how am I going to learn how to ride if everyone knows how to do it already? I don’t want to be a burden and slow you down.”

  Mira rolls her eyes. “You’re not a burden at all. I invited you today so you could start some lessons. Not actual lessons with a class, but learning enough that you know how to control your horse when we take them to do fun things.”

  “Like?”

  “Let’s get going.” She ignores my question and walks over to me. “We have a good teacher for you and everything.”

  “Who?”

  “Jack, of course! He’s our resident horse trainer, instructor for kids and teens, rodeo rider, the works. Along with Ashton, but he had football something or other today. Uncle Mike taught Jack all he knows, so he’ll take good care of you.”

  I glance around. Jack’s not in the stable.

  “He’s outside.” She grins. “Come on!” She grabs my arm and pulls me along with her.

  Great. The last time I saw him I drooled on his shoulder.

  I’m so embarrassing.

  There are five horses tied to the fence outside, all saddled and bridled. At least, I think that’s what it’s called. Jack’s standing by a dark brown horse, holding its reins. It’s really shiny, has white hair only by its feet, and has a braid in its tail with flowers in it.

  “You like her tail?” Mira asks. “Did it myself.”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “You’ll learn to ride on her. She’s the nicest horse we have. And the most obedient.”

  “Mira!” Tiffany calls, and she leaves me with Jack and hurries over to see what she wants.

  “Hey,” Jack says as I walk up. “Ready for a new adventure?”

  “Not really.” I fold my arms across my chest, trying to calm my nerves. “I’m still not over drooling on you.”

  “I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

  “I’m such a train wreck.”

  He laughs as he strokes the horse next to him and it moves its head, nudging him sweetly. “This is Bronte. She’s very calm, easy to learn on. I picked her out just for you.”

  He’s wearing a cowboy hat today, with a white collared shirt, a few buttons undone and jeans. He wears brown cowboy boots to complete the ensemble.

  Standing there in my tennis shoes makes me feel unprepared. I should probably get some boots. But for now, I pretend like I know what I’m doing and don’t care what I’m dressed like. “Bronte? As in, the Bronte sisters?”

  He shrugs. “My uncle has a thing for books, I guess. Like you. That’s why I think it’s so funny that you love reading. Our horses are named after literary characters.”

  My mouth drops open. “No. Way.”

  “Yep. We have Bronte here, Sherlock, Atticus, that’s Mira’s horse, Bellatrix, Elinor, Tybalt,” he says with a pause. “Oh, and Eyre, Severus, Matilda, Gandalf, and Darcy.”

  “Oh my gosh, I’m in love with this place. Bookish names for horses? This is the best ever.” I glance around. “Also, you have one named Darcy? Which one is he?”

  He chuckles at my excitement over my favorite book bo
yfriend’s name.

  “I’ll show you when we’re done. He’s a little full of himself sometimes.”

  “Fitting. And I approve of all of those other names, too. Your uncle is very well read. And awesome.”

  “He’s a good man and loves his horses. And, like you, loves his books. I still don’t understand it, though.”

  “I’ll change that.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  I fold my arms and meet his dark eyes. “Challenge accepted.”

  He chuckles. “You ready? Bronte’s itching to get going.”

  I watch Jack with Bronte. He’s so gentle with her. He strokes her nose, rubs his hand down her cheek, then pulls the reins over her head and lets go so they’re resting in front of the saddle.

  For me to hold.

  Panic starts to sink in now, and I think I’m going to throw up.

  “You ready?” he asks.

  I glance around and notice all the girls are already on their horses, walking them around the pen.

  “You coming riding with us, Jack?” Summer asks.

  He shrugs. “I’ll see how Lucy does first.”

  She nods, gives me a small smile, and leads her horse away from us.

  “Meet you guys in a few minutes,” Mira says as they unlatch a gate across the pen. “Good luck!” She winks at me and gets back on her horse. They all walk their horses through the gate and head out into the pasture, leaving us alone.

  I’m suddenly feeling very nervous. And not just about the horse. There’s tension between Jack and me, and I don’t know how to handle it. Or react to it. I wonder if he feels it too because it’s pretty much crushing me.

  Especially since last night.

  Then I think of Summer. I don’t want her to hate me, so I fight the tension and the confused feelings I’m having. I look at Jack and realize he’s staring at me, an amused expression on his face. If he only knew what I’m thinking about, he’d probably run far away.

  “Okay. First thing you need to do is actually get on the horse.”

  I frown as he steps to the side, gesturing for me to stand by Bronte. “Yeah, I was hoping there was a way around that part.”

  He laughs. “We’re here to ride the horses not look at them.”