Chapter Seven

 

Friday, November 15th, 4:00 p.m.

 

During lunch I had called Rocky and rearranged my internship schedule a bit. With our first recreational cheer competition tomorrow, I needed to go to the barn on Sundays instead of Saturdays. This wasn’t a big secret. Rocky and I had talked about it before. I asked if Robin and I could come today so I could work with Aladdin. I needed a horsy attitude adjustment before the football game. It was for me, not him. The stable owner laughed and agreed. Then, it was just a case of checking in with Jack for transportation.

I vented all the way to Shamrock Stable about Mom, the appointment with Dr. O’Hara, and finding out the counselor was on my side even if my parents weren’t. “And I probably owe you a coffee card for figuring out the bit about the alternative school,” I said, walking beside Robin toward the office. “I can’t believe they let the counselor believe I was Chrissy’s mom.”

“Well, I can.” Robin told me. “Your mom is all about the money. What does she do with it? If Rick pays his child support and she works full time, where does it go?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “He pays for daycare too. He told her that he couldn’t give her more since tuition was due in January. Am I paranoid if I fill out the forms for that grant Mr. B. told us about? I don’t trust Mom or Rick to actually follow through.”

“I think that’s smart,” Robin said. “What if things go screwy and the school doesn’t get the payment? You’ll be out on your ear. I’d bet your mother enrolls you in the alternative then because she doesn’t want you at Pioneer with all its options.”

“Okay.” I heaved a sigh. “And you haven’t even heard the rest of it. Mom showed one of the other dealers the master suite last night, and the woman is moving in on the weekend.”

“Is she nice?” Robin asked. “Or will she be making more work for you?”

“She shouldn’t be.” I shrugged. “I guess I’ll see how it goes. I’m not doing her laundry or cooking for her. If my folks actually do what Dr. O’Hara said they have to do, Mom will be taking over some of the housework.”

“Do you think it will happen?” Robin held open the office door. “Sometimes, the more things change, the more they stay the same.”

“We’ll have to wait and see.” My phone went off and I opened my purse. I pulled out my cell and saw Rick’s number on the screen. “Now what does he want?” I answered warily, “Hi, Rick. What’s up?”

“I’m running late.” He was doing his nice guy, totally put-upon impression. “Will you pick up the kids and take them home? I’ll swing by and get them before six.”

I glanced down at the parking lot. Jack’s pickup was nowhere in sight. “Were we at the same meeting yesterday, Rick? I can’t. Not only because Dr. O’Hara wants you and Mom to step up, but I’m doing internship hours today.”

“You did those on Wednesday, didn’t you?”

“Yes and rec cheering begins tomorrow. If you remember, the competitions take up all my Saturdays. I need to do internship hours on Friday afternoons and Sundays as much as possible. I’ve got to go.”

“What about the kids?”

“You’re their father. Work it out with Mom. One of you needs to get them. I’m not available.” I hit ‘end’ and, to be on the safe side, powered off my cell. Now, the rest of their calls would go to message. I could deal with those when we got back to Robin’s house.

I glanced at my best friend. “If you say, ‘I told you so,’ you’re teaching Twaziem to longe by yourself.”

Robin cracked up and backed a step away. “Okay, Ms. Spunky. You’re the boss.”

“Good. Remember that!”

Ten minutes later, I adjusted the rope training halter on Aladdin. I was attempting to teach him trust so I didn’t take him out to the cross ties in the barn aisle way for grooming. Instead, I put the lead line over his neck. I tried really hard to treat him the same way I did Summertime. Some days, it worked better than others. Today appeared to be one of those days.

I gave him a tiny piece of carrot, grabbed the hoof pick from the tote. “Let’s get started, handsome.”

Next door, Summertime snorted at me. I slipped him a treat over the wall. “I know, buddy. I’m cheating on you. Let me work with your friend, and we’ll see if there’s time for a quick ride before the end of the day.”

I cleaned Aladdin’s hooves, giving him baby carrots as I finished each one. Maybe he’d been replaced by a ‘pod’ horse from the movies. He was an absolute angel today. Last hoof, so he got two tiny carrots this time. Onto the currycomb. While I worked on his left side, I told him all about my day. He flicked his ears and listened.

Suddenly, I realized I wasn’t upset about my mom or Rick’s stunts. What was so different? Had it been yesterday when they acted out in front of the counselor and her reaction? Or was it when I stood up to Rick and let him take charge of his kids this afternoon? I didn’t know. Somehow, things felt different between me and this horse. It made me wonder if I’d been bringing my emotions into the barn. Today, I wasn’t as crazy angry as other times.

“It isn’t your fault that my life sucks sometimes,” I told Aladdin and gave him a carrot. I passed another one to Summertime, who stood with his head hanging over the wall between them. Talking to the horses felt even more therapeutic than visiting Ingrid at her office. I wondered if the counselor would understand I’d rather have a four-legged shrink than a two-legged one.

I really liked the open barn concept at Shamrock. Rocky told us that horses were social creatures and they seemed to enjoy the opportunity to schmooze with one another. Of course, there were exceptions. When Aladdin started fighting with the colt on the other side of him last year, a solid wall was the only answer. It still didn’t have bars at the top, so the two of them could visit occasionally, but only when they wanted to be nice.

I kept brushing Aladdin until his bay coat gleamed. I combed out his black mane and tail until I could run my fingers through the hair. When I finished grooming him, I cleaned his hooves again. I wanted him to be good when people handled his feet. Besides, it’d make it easier when the farrier trimmed or shod him.

After that, I saddled him up, English style. He was still focused, so I gave him another carrot. I switched out the training halter for his snaffle bridle and topped it with a flat halter. I snapped the long cotton rope to the left side ring of the halter. Then, I led him out to the empty indoor arena. We’d start with single line longeing and end with long line driving.

“Need some help?” Sierra called from her horse’s stall. “Or are you all right on your own?”

“We’re having an awesome day,” I said. “Let us try some independent work.”

“If he stays on-task, you could try sitting in the saddle at the end.”

“Good idea,” I said. The proposition wasn’t as farfetched as it sounded. I had leaned on him and belly-flopped on his withers. Swinging up on him came next. I hoped to actually be riding him before Christmas. With any luck at all, he could participate in the traditional Shamrock Stable Holiday Party on horseback. Okay, that might be a bit of a stretch, but I figured it was always smart to have goals. I had actually signed the two of us up for the event. Rocky had given me a long look then added Summertime to my list in case Aladdin blew off the festivities.

I took a few minutes to attach the reins to the billets on the saddle. I wanted Aladdin to have contact with the bit, but not have to flex his head too much. He was considered a green or inexperienced horse and the slower that I did things, the more likely he was to go along with the training program. By the time I finished with him, I wanted him to be a loving, trustworthy mount for any rider. Since Shamrock Stable catered to beginning level riders, that meant any horse here had to be suitable for kids, tweens, and teens.

To check the tension and make sure Aladdin felt comfortable, I fed him a couple more carrots before I backed away, shaking out the rope. I used longeing for discipline so he’d start to get the idea that I was the boss. He wasn’t. I began by asking him to walk around me, circling to the left at a walk. Once he had the idea, we changed directions. I kept sending him forward, first walking, then trotting and cantering. He was pretty good about moving, so we did a lot of switching between the left and right tracks.

The basic theory was that if Aladdin did everything on the ground first, he wouldn’t be so excited when I rode him. He’d know how to listen to me, responding to voice commands and my body language. He’d be accustomed to the bridle and saddle, and the pressure of the bit on his tongue, gums, face, and head wouldn’t distress him. In about twenty minutes, I called him to me, pulling gently on the line.

When he came, I rewarded him with treats. After he finished snacking, I led him over to the corner where we kept the thin, long lines we used for driving. I snapped one on each side of his halter, ran them back through the stirrup irons, and stepped behind him. “Okay, buddy. We’ve been doing this a while. Walk on.”

He flicked his ears, chewed on the bit, and picked up a nice medium walk. I drove him around the ring. Left track. Right track. Halting, backing, trotting forward and then breaking to a walk again. I didn’t ask him for a canter because he might opt for a fast run, and I wouldn’t be able to keep up. Like Rocky had told me several times, I was only supposed to teach him what I wanted him to do, not what I didn’t want.

Sierra came over and leaned on the gate while we wound through a series of serpentines, imaginary half-circles on an invisible straight line. “Wow, he’s really got the concept today.”

“I think it’s also me,” I said. “I’m not so impatient with him.”

“What made the difference?”

“I went to my mom’s counselor yesterday and had a major meltdown. Ingrid actually stepped up on my side, and it made me feel better.”

“Ingrid?” Sierra asked. “That’s an unusual name. Do your folks see Ingrid O’Hara? She’s great.”

“How do you know her?” I stopped Aladdin and then asked him to back up with the driving lines. He did. Since he was still doing amazing things, I decided it was a good place to end the lesson. I walked up to his head and fed him three baby carrots. “Where did you meet her?”

“I’m in her teen group.” Sierra squeezed through the wooden gate and came toward me. “A bunch of us get together and whine and whinge about our stupid parents, life, and everything that sucks once a week. Ingrid teaches us coping strategies, then turns us loose on the world again.”

“She wants me to come to her Tuesday group. Is that the one you attend?”

“Yeah.” Sierra rubbed Aladdin’s brown forehead. “And it’s a win-win situation. Not only do I get a chance to spew all my frustration and anger, I also have a night off from the barns.”

I laughed. “Wow and to think I’d love to move in and live here instead of picking up all the slack for my mom.”

“Yeah, but if she didn’t have you to help, what would she do?” Sierra began to unfasten the reins from the saddle. “Does she have any sisters or brothers? Is her mom around?”

I shook my head. “No, she grew up in foster care. She told me once she was on her own as soon as she finished high school. It was why she fell in love so quick and married my real dad when she was barely twenty. That didn’t last.”

“And I don’t think your stepdad is doing his share now.” Sierra buckled the end of the reins together and put them up over Aladdin’s neck so they landed in his mane. “It’s why she’s depending on you so much. She needs a partner, and she doesn’t have one. It’s not like she can call her mother-in-law and ask her for help with the kids.”

“I didn’t think of that.” I moved to the left side and checked the girth, tightening it so the saddle wouldn’t slip when I rode. “I was just so pissed when she told me that she couldn’t pay for Lincoln High and Rick wouldn’t. I mean she works all the time and he pays child support, so where does the money go?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sierra said, starting to sound impatient. “She doesn’t have forty horses to feed, water, buy shavings for, pay vet bills on, shoe every six weeks. She only has six kids that need clothes and shoes, a mortgage, utility bills, groceries to buy, gas for her car, insurance. Have you thought about asking her?”

“No, I was too busy getting mad at her.” I slid the stirrups down the leathers. “Now, I feel like an absolute fool. We’re the same age. Why do you know this stuff when I don’t?”

“It’s one of Ingrid’s life lessons,” Sierra said. “She always wants us to ‘walk in the other person’s shoes before we accuse,’ and it’s helped me. I’ve been majorly mad at my mom for months because she won’t pay tuition for me to go to Lincoln High. It’s a great school, and I’d be totally set for college if I got to go there. Ingrid pointed out that my mom and I should talk about how to make it happen. Once I learned that we’d have to sell three or four horses a year, I decided the cost was just too high.”

“Your horses are born and raised here,” I said.

“Yeah and they know their mommas, sisters, and brothers,” Sierra agreed. “I’d feel awful if we sold Prince Charming away from Lady and something bad happened to either of them. It’s all about choices, Vicky. I made mine, and I’m learning to be okay with them.”

“All right.” I nodded and rubbed Aladdin’s neck. “I guess I’ll look forward to getting some strategies on Tuesday, and I’ll try talking to my mom for a change.”

“Wonderful. Ready to ride?” Sierra stepped around to the left side of the horse where I waited. “You’ll belly-flop into the saddle and then I’ll guide your foot into the stirrup. Sit up slowly so he doesn’t spook. Okay?”

“Yes.” I knuckled Aladdin’s withers. “Let’s do it.”