Shamrock Stable, Washington
Saturday, January 11th, 6:15 pm
Grandma and I spent the day together. We did the movie, shopping and lunch thing, our tradition before she and Grandpa left on the road trip back to Arizona. She didn’t have much to say beyond talking to me about school and Tom. It wasn’t her style. Generally, she told me stories about my mom or the family or her teaching experiences. If that failed, Grandma always had opinions about what improvements local and national politicians should make, but they probably wouldn’t. Who actually listens to teachers?
While the rest of the family finished the barn chores, Grandma and I put our last dinner together. I sliced tomatoes for the salad and glanced at her. “What’s bugging you? I said I’d be nice to Tom. I’m not taking Nevada into pony club so I won’t break my neck going over a jump.”
“Oh, I’m just stressing about your mom,” Grandma forked the baked potatoes into a bowl. “I’m afraid she’s rushing into this relationship with Dave.”
“He’s a decent guy.” I began cleaning the green pepper. “Totally different from her previous cowboys. I can’t see any of them standing by a woman with cancer, or raising their three kids to be decent adults after his wife passed away. He tries to make the world a better place. They never did. Talk about guys who were a total waste of time, space and oxygen. I don’t know why Mom chose them.”
Grandma gave me a long look, and then said, “You’re old enough to know. When she was about your age, she snuck around to see a boy who was exciting and encouraged her to disobey our rules. Your grandpa and I warned her that he was bad news which only made him more attractive.”
“What happened?” I asked. “Did she marry him?”
“No, she broke up with him during her senior year. We didn’t know why. We were just glad she started seeing your dad when she got to college.”
I rinsed out the pepper, put it on the cutting board and began to slice it into green strips. “So, did you ever find out why she dumped the high school guy?”
“Yes. She finally told us that he was a bully and he pushed her around. She blamed herself. She thought she was asking for it.”
“Oh come on,” I said. “You can’t own what other people do. You have to take responsibility for your choices and your actions. It wasn’t her fault the guy was a major jerk. She did the right thing when she walked away. So, why has she been picking other morons?”
“Because she thought she deserved him and the way he treated her,” Grandma repeated. “That judge really helped when he sent your mom to counseling. She’s making some serious changes in her life. Dating Dave is good for her.”
“Yeah. He’s majorly nice.” I chopped up the pepper and added it to my salad. Then, I began cleaning green onions. “I like him.”
“What if he proposes to her?” Grandma asked. “If she marries him, what will you do?”
“I guess I’d try to be glad she isn’t with another guy who should be called, Passing Through or P.T. for short.” I ran the onions under the sprayer at the sink. “Actually, I hope she doesn’t marry him. He’s way too kind for her. She’ll break his heart.”
“Like she’s broken yours?” Grandma asked softly.
“Get serious.” I laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Nobody breaks me.”
A long silence ensued. I turned and saw Grandma staring at me. “What?”
She put down the fork and left the pan of oven-baked chicken to fend for itself. She came over and grabbed me in a tight hug. “We’ve really done a number on you, Sierra. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“What are you talking about?” I wasn’t much for the touchy-feely stuff, but she seemed to need it tonight, so I didn’t pull free. “Grandma, I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” She stepped back, framed my face with her hands. “I tried to remember the last time you asked me for help.”
“Hey, I’m not needy. I don’t ask anyone for anything.”
“No, even when you complained about your school a couple months ago, you didn’t expect me to come through for you.” Grandma stroked my hair. “We failed you. It’s not a weakness to ask for help, Sierra. Promise you’ll think about it.”
“As long as I don’t actually have to do it.”
Grandma smiled and then kissed my cheek. “I love you. Your mom loves you.”
“I got that. So does Autumn and Grandpa. I’ll bet even the horses in the barn love me at least three times a day. Charlie does because he snuggles with me at night.”
Another smile and then a big sigh before Grandma let me go back to my salad. I didn’t know what other kind of conversations she had with my mother during this last visit, but I’d bet they were in-depth. We normally didn’t do a lot of emotional bonding stuff in the McElroy household. Mom never had treated me like I was a kid. I was always her partner, the other adult who helped raise Autumn, ran the business and did my share in the barns.
Dave made things easier, not harder on me which was a major difference. It didn’t mean I’d abdicated my responsibilities. I knew better. If I eased up, things would be much harder when he left. And he would leave. It was just a case of when not if, but I didn’t blame him. Despite all of Ingrid’s words of wisdom, I knew my mother would get tired of being an adult. Dave wasn’t the kind of guy who wanted to be Peter Pan to her Tinkerbell.
That night Autumn and I had curled up on my bed to watch TV when Mom came into my room. She stepped around Queenie who snoozed on the doggie blanket that Vicky made me for Christmas. Mom sat down next to Charlie who paddled his feet in puppy dreams. She wanted something because she didn’t say a word about having the puppy on the comforter. On the next commercial break, I muted the volume and looked at her. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the riding club,” Mom said.
“Is it a go?” I asked.
She nodded. Autumn and I high-fived each other. Mom grinned at us. “There will be conditions. Autumn, I get to be the boss and no sassy comments. Got it?”
My little sister beamed. “Got it. Me and Dream are just happy to be in it. We’re going to the fair this year and she’s winning the champion ribbons.”
“Okay. Good to know.” Mom eyed me. “Sierra, this is going to be tough for you.”
“Hey, you’re the boss,” I said. “I’m good with it.”
“Yes, but I need you to be patient and tolerant when the beginners have issues.”
“Got it.” I held up my hand. “I promise I won’t tell someone when he is a waste of time, space, and oxygen. Or when she is, for that matter.”
“You can’t give that person, the stupid human look either.”
“That’s fair,” I said. “We won’t make any money on the club if I let my ego get involved. Can I start announcing it to the students tomorrow? And put it on the website?”
“I’m counting on it.” Mom got up. She hugged Autumn and kissed my forehead. “Dave and I are going out for a little bit with Grandma and Grandpa. Are you two okay with that?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Do you want me to come lock the door after you?”
“No. We’ll do it.”
Once Mom left, Autumn about strangled me with her hug. “We got it. Our own club! I’m so glad. That Tanya lady said I couldn’t be in the Silver Spurs till I was nine and that’s forever away.”
“We’re going to have fun.” I grabbed my cell, not discussing my sister’s view of two years before she could join my old club. At seven, it probably had felt like she’d never get in the group. Of course, I hadn’t wanted her exposed to the Jamisons, but I wasn’t about to say that. “I’m going to text Vicky, Robin and Dani and let them know the great news.”
“Yippee. They’ll be so happy.”
“You know it.”
* * * *
Marysville, Washington
Monday, January 13th, 7:15 am
Grandma and Grandpa had left for Arizona after church on Sunday. I was glad they’d stuck around to see me sing in the teen choir. Granted, I really couldn’t mess up on a bunch of “Halleluiahs,” but it was still singing in public. Once I learned their material, I’d get my shot at a solo. The choir director asked me when I thought I’d be ready and I said I’d like to do it during the summer when my grandparents would return. That made most of the other kids happy, since I obviously wasn’t trying to upstage them. I figured it was also fitting into Mom’s goal of changing me into the new, better, saintly Sierra who practiced patience and tolerance.
I carried a tray of espressos across to Robin’s table and handed them out. “Your Coach Norris is going to drive me crazy. How do I get along with the guy? I’m really not a horrible diva.”
“You are, but it isn’t your fault.” Robin stirred her mocha with the straw. “You’re sixteen going on forty because you’ve been an adult since you were in diapers. I’m a princess because my parents and sibs totally spoil me. So, I can play the “you’re big and I’m little” card with Coach Norris and mean it. You can’t.”
I pulled out a chair and sat down. “Well, what do I do?”
“Play the game his way at school,” Robin said.
“Hey, I told him that he was the boss.”
“Yeah and I bet you gave him that look.”
“What look?” I sipped chocolate and coffee. Wow, I so needed it while I waited. “I don’t get it.”
“You have this look like the person hassling you is a total worm and you’re just trying to humor him. Adults hate that.”
“So, what do I do?”
“Practice my princess smile and play the “dumb blonde” like I do. Or Vicky’s plastic cheerleader routine, when she does her rah, rah, sis, boom-bah bit. Or Dani when she does her last word thing.”
“What’s the last word?” I turned to Dani as she approached. “Hi. I guess I need to borrow your survival skill.” I handed her the third cup. “What is it?”
“Last word?” Dani put down her backpack and sat next to me. She dove into the coffee, heaved a huge sigh. “Robin’s boss, Brianna taught it to me. I’ve begun using it on my parents and it totally works. They agreed I could have one of Robin’s puppies.”
“Whoa. No way. They were adamant that you couldn’t a couple weeks ago.”
“That was before I did last word on them.” Dani beamed around the pink straw and sucked up more coffee. “Can Louise and I come over tonight to get my dog, Robin?”
“Definitely. Now, tell her how to play the game.” Robin paused and held up her hand. “Oops, forgot the caveat. It doesn’t work on some adults. If they were non-coms in the Army, don’t do it. They view it as an insult.”
Dani nodded in total agreement. “It’s simple, but remember to make eye contact and put on a subservient attitude like when you play the maid in a skit in Drama.”
“And say what? Yes, m’lady? Yes, m’lord? Coach will know I’m faking it.”
“Well, substitute “ma’am” and “sir” for those titles and you got it.” Dani grinned at me. “Okay, so it’s majorly bogus, but it works. Adults think you’re being respectful and polite. Oh and you have to give them what Brianna calls, the attitude of attention at the same time. It’s where the eye contact comes in and not interrupting and gazing at them like you do the preacher at church.”
“So, if I do all that, I’ll be point guard?”
“I don’t know.” Dani shrugged. “All I know is it got me a puppy and Mom said I couldn’t have one before. Dad agreed with her. And they totally changed their minds. I can have someone to love 24/7 now. My parents were so impressed by last word, they even promised Louise a raise for teaching me ‘old world’ manners.”
I nodded and took the last cup from the holder as Vicky joined us. I passed her the peppermint latte. “All right. I’ll try it. I don’t have anything to lose and I’m sick of running lines. Besides if Coach was ticked about last week’s game, he’ll send me out to run laps on the track after we play Centennial since Aspen Watson accepted my challenge.”
“Who?” Robin asked.
“The point guard for Centennial. She’s the girl who teaches puppy obedience at Salmon Pond and she really knows her stuff. Charlie adores her. She taught him to heel on the leash last Friday. She told me if I was as tough on him as I was on the court, I’d have a good dog. If I wimp out when we play the Crusaders, she plans to steamroller me.”
Vicky peeled the cap off her drink and took a big swallow. “Isn’t Salmon Pond a stable?”
“Yeah, but one of the local dog 4-H leaders knows Lisa, the owner. When there’s inclement weather, obedience is held at the barn. In the summer, it moves to the local park.”
“I’m going to need a contact number so I can take my puppy,” Dani said.
“Me too.” Vicky finished her caffeine just as the first warning bell rang. “Have we come up with a name for our new club?”
“I think we should be the Lucky Charms.” Robin stood and collected her backpack. “Then, Lucky Lady and Prince Charming can be our mascots.”
Dr. Danvers gave us the evil eye and pointed to the English wing. We stood and gathered our things. We started walking while Vicky argued for her choice, the Shamrock Stars. She suggested that we could use the Irish or Celtic star as one of our emblems. We hadn’t come to a decision when we arrived in Mrs. Weaver’s room, so I decided to opt for something that would make Mom happy. I suggested we organize a meeting for all the potential members and vote on a club name. The majority’s choice would win.
The three of them stared at me as if I’d just opened a portal and visited from another dimension. I didn’t say a thing about my mother’s improvement plan to turn me into a Stepford teen. These were my friends and they liked me. Besides, it was demoralizing to have my own mom join forces with Coach Norris and agree that I wasn’t a team player. I wondered how she’d feel about being called, ma’am. I’d never done it before, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t try it. Or even that I wouldn’t.
That afternoon, I hung out in the locker room until most of the girls were ready. I walked into the gym with Didi, Willow and Cedar. We weren’t late, but I also wasn’t early. Coach Norris had already pulled out most of the equipment. He called for us to form up for drills. I made sure to be in the group on the right side since he always had the left-hand one shoot first and alternate to the players in the second line. Then, he switched it this week.
I scored when it was my turn, glimpsed his scowl and decided to try a different tactic. Oh sure, I’d use Dani’s last word strategy, but I also deliberately missed the next three times it was my turn. I shot a basket the fourth time. I staggered the routine so he wouldn’t realize my misses were intentional.
When we ran lines, I stayed with the team and didn’t push myself. I got a couple hard looks from Olivia and Cedar when I didn’t keep up and actually made it to the far end three less times than they did. The rest of the girls still didn’t know me that well so they probably figured last week when I busted my rear, arrived early, stayed late was an aberration, not my normal. I continued to hold back during practice plays and scrimmages. I didn’t shoot any baskets, just passed the ball to whoever was on my side whether they were close enough to score or not.
When we finished up, Coach Norris actually smiled at me, the third time since I joined the team. “Nice job today, Sierra.”
“Thank you, sir.”