Bittersweet Farm 2: Joyful Spirit Page 4
“If I was trying to maintain a distance from you so I wouldn’t get hurt, it didn’t work,” I replied.
I had thought it would be easier than this. Apologize, have lunch, ride the horses in the afternoon.
“How long is it going to take you to get past this?”
Lockie pulled the reins over Wingspread’s head. “This is reality.”
“Okay. Rogers is coming for a lesson this afternoon, should I come down to help you or not?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll tell Greer she can have you.”
“Yeah, do that.”
***
I left the indoor, climbed in my truck and drove to the tack shop where I splurged on halter nameplates for CB and Wing, gloves for me, fox earrings for Greer, a cute scarf for Jules, and a polo shirt in our stable color, bittersweet red, for Lockie. At the farm market, I bought a fifty-pound bag of carrots for the horses and a human size bag of what were close to the last of the peaches for my father.
I wanted to call Rogers so we could meet at the diner for a cup of tea and gossip but she was at the barn having a lesson. Instead of going down there to ride CB, it seemed smarter to simply take the day off. It was still pouring and I decided to declutter my bedroom. There were clothes for school I wouldn’t be wearing anymore so packing them up and leaving them at the local church to distribute to whoever might need them made sense. Books, too, would be packed up then donated to the library for their periodic sales.
Leaving the fruit on the counter, I went upstairs and spent the next hours putting my past into boxes, resisting all notions of saving just this one thing. Whatever it was, someone else needed it more than I did.
The rain hadn’t stopped by the time I went downstairs to the kitchen.
“It’s just us,” Jules said.
“Where’s Dad?”
“He left while you were out and asked me to tell you he’ll be staying overnight in the city so he can catch an early flight to St. Louis tomorrow.”
“That’s not unexpected, is it?”
“No,” Jules admitted.
“And Lockie?”
“Called and said he was passing on dinner.”
I sighed. Lockie missed lunch and wouldn’t have dinner unless he scavenged something at his apartment but he’d made it quite clear I wasn’t supposed to function as his nursemaid.
I never saw it that way but if he did, that was the reality. Lockie was a big enough boy to take care of himself. Even if I didn’t quite believe it.
Jules and I had dinner together at the kitchen table and afterward she brought dessert of roasted peaches and custard sauce. I heated water for tea and we sat there for about an hour talking about her extended family whom she missed terribly and I would finally get to meet in a few months.
We cleaned up the kitchen then I went back to my room, got into bed and read until I felt sleepy. I was trying to be philosophical about my life. The farther along I went, the less control I seemed to have over important events. It was easy to get a new pair of jeans or even to quit going to The Briar School but in big matters such as my mother’s health, Lockie’s well-being, finding the key to Greer’s discontent, it was all impossible. Even my father, who was so accustomed to giving orders and making things happen, couldn’t change what was meant to be.
I felt somehow comforted that I was just going along for the ride. It took so much pressure off me to imagine that I might only be responsible for myself and how I chose to react. That was all of it. As I slid into sleep, I remembered my mother had told me this many times but it was something I had forgotten.
My phone on the nightstand rang, waking me up. It was absolutely dark, deep into the middle of the night.
“Talia. Could you come down here?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Chapter Five
I ran up the stairs and knocked on his door. “Lockie.”
There was no answer.
I tried the knob. It turned so I let myself in. I didn’t see him on the floor, which was what I expected. “Lockie!”
“I’m in the bathroom.”
A moment later, the door opened and he came into the room unsteadily.
“Do you need to go to the hospital?”
He was pale enough to look like the answer was yes.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He walked to the sofa and sat down slowly, as if it took everything he had just to do that.
I pulled off my raincoat and dropped it over one of the wooden chairs. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve been throwing up all day.”
“When’s the last time you ate?”
“Breakfast.”
“So nothing is coming up anymore.”
“No.”
“Have you been drinking water?”
“I tried but that came back up, too.”
I sat down beside him and pinched the skin on his hand then let it go. When it didn’t snap right back I knew he was dehydrated.
“What would you do for Butch?” Lockie asked.
“Make him a warm mash with diced apples.”
“Since I’m not eating wet bran ... it looks like you’re my nursemaid anyway.”
“I may be a lot of things to you, but that’s not one of them. Let’s just put that aside and deal with the problem at hand.”
“What else would you do for Butch?”
“Stay with him and hold his hoof.”
“Hold my hoof.”
I took his hand. “We need to replace some of those fluids you’ve been losing.”
“No thanks. Throwing up isn’t that much fun.”
“Let’s try. Do you have some of the coconut water I got for you?” I had a standing order at an online site to send a case every week.
He pointed to about three cases stacked by the kitchenette.
“You’re supposed to be drinking them.”
“I forget.”
I stood. “Okay. That’s good in a way, at least we have plenty now. So we’ll both have one, we’ll sip together.”
“Tali, there’s no point.”
Cutting open the box with a knife laying on the counter, I pulled out two containers. There were clean glasses in the dishwasher so I brought those to the coffee table.
“When then?”
“In the morning?”
“No, because I’ll be driving you to the hospital by then, so they can put you on an IV.”
“I don’t want to go to the hospital.”
I handed him a glass of coconut water. “Drink.”
Lockie regarded the liquid doubtfully but put the glass to his lips and sipped. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“You were more right than wrong, so I thank for that.”
“You thank me?”
“Sometimes people need to hear the truth. It can be a kindness.”
“Sometimes I wind up saying things I shouldn’t.” He sipped again.
“We all do. How do you feel?”
“Besides that it feels like a truck ran over my head, so far so good.”
We sat in silence for a while, the rain drumming on the roof.
“Does this remind you of your mother?”
“A little bit,” I admitted.
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I was glad to be able to help her and I’m glad to be able to help you. It’s a privilege.”
Lockie sipped his juice.
“When you were sick as a child, what did your mother make you to eat?”
He looked at me and shrugged.
“She must had made you some treat.”
“I guess I was never sick enough to stay home from school.”
“Ever?”
“I don’t remember it.”
“You don’t remember or you don’t remember it happening?”
“Most of my long-term memory is still intact. It depends on what the definition is of long-term. For some peop
le, there’s a clear demarcation between the past and the accident. For others, the edge is blurred.”
“Like meeting Alise at the Standish party.”
“I did not recognize her. Maybe I met her that week. Maybe I met her at the event grounds. I’m told we were there for three days.”
“That must be very difficult.”
Lockie smiled. “It’s not.”
He had almost finished his glass of coconut water.
“Do you feel any better now?”
“Yes. Would you stay here tonight and keep me company?”
“Of course.” I would never have left him there alone anyway. The nursemaid in me knew that was not a wise plan. Either I was staying there or he was coming back to the house.
I couldn’t risk the chance that Lockie might become dizzy on the way to the bathroom. That had happened to my mother often enough and at least she had me in the apartment with her.
“I have a question.” He tipped the glass up and drained what was left of the liquid. “You treat me like Butch.”
I popped the top of another can and poured it into his glass. “Are we going there again?”
“Yes.”
“What, then? Yes, you asked me to treat you like I treat Butch and I do.”
“You don’t, though. I see you put your arms around Butch. I see you kiss him. I see you kiss CB. But you don’t kiss me. Why not?”
I didn’t reply.
“Is it because of your father? Because I work for him? Because of Greer and Rui? You once said that the only thing that would get me fired was if I had sex with Greer. Is that the reason you keep your distance or is it something else?”
“Should I take this opportunity to point out that you’ve never kissed me?”
“I didn’t think you wanted me to.”
“I did, okay?”
“Did you ever think of mentioning that or acting upon it?”
“Yes, I considered it and decided being like Greer was not a good idea.”
“Who’s going to mistake you for Greer? Greer can’t keep her clothes on.”
“The first day you were here, you laughed over Greer’s reputation. I didn’t know if you thought I was like her.” I finished my water. “She walks that walk.”
“Professional escorts could take lessons from her.”
It hurt me to hear that about my half-sister but it was true. “And she doesn’t wear a bra.”
“Luckily there’s not that much there to bounce.”
“Lockie!”
“That’s a good way to make sure I don’t ask for a sitting trot.”
Poor Greer. So desperate for attention. She was fortunate Lockie didn’t take advantage of her lack of commonsense. I wondered if she was aware of that.
“Do you want to go up to the house and I’ll make you some chicken soup with noodles? Jules always has stock in the freezer. It’ll just take a couple minutes.”
“No, thank you, I’m very happily not sick to my stomach right now and don’t change the subject.”
“You shouldn’t take it personally that I keep my distance from everyone. Yes, we can say Josh used me as his beard but I used him, too. As long as we were considered a couple, no one would annoy us with questions or expectations. They didn’t wonder if he was gay...”
“How was that enough for you? For Josh, I get it because I’m sure he was conducting business on the side.”
I looked at him in surprise. “You’re sure?”
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
Lockie nodded. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“It was enough for me. I had Butch, and Rogers and Josh as a friend. I knew that someday I’d move away and...”
“But you’re doing just the opposite. You’re staying home.”
I shrugged. “The situation isn’t the same anymore.”
Lockie made everything different.
He put the glass down on what passed for a coffee table. “Do you think you can sleep next to me?”
I shrugged. “I don’t sleep very well.”
“You’ll hold my hand and by first light...”
“What?”
Lockie stood. “We’ll wake up and I’ll look at your beautiful face in confusion and say ‘Who are you?’”
He pulled me to my feet and kissed my temple. “This is so exciting, Silly Filly. Our first night together!”
There was no bedroom in the apartment, just a corner of the space where the bed was. We lay down on top of the covers, he took my hand, we listened to the rain on the roof and I fell asleep.
***
He woke me by kissing my cheek. “We have to get the day going, Silly.”
“What time is it?”
“Six. The horses need to be fed and in fifteen minutes Jules is going to wonder where you are.”
“How do you feel?”
“It’s like a hangover, something you know nothing about I’m sure. I still have a headache, but it’s an improvement over yesterday. Once I take the meds, it’ll be better so don’t worry about me.”
“Can you eat some breakfast?”
“Some.”
“How about a bowl of cream of wheat?”
He was going through the clothes basket looking for a clean shirt. “What?”
“You’ve never had it?”
“No.”
“It’s a hot cereal.”
“Like we eat hot cereal in California.”
“My mother used to make it for me and it would be good for you. It’s bland. I think there are some raspberries in the refrigerator.”
Lockie pulled off the shirt he had slept in and pulled the fresh one on. “Is it like a bran mash?”
“It’s white.”
“So white bran mash.”
“Without the bran.”
He made a face. “Why don’t you go up to the house first? You could say you got up early to feed the horses before anyone else was awake.”
I stood, finger-combed my hair and crossed to the door. “You don’t have to cover for me. I think we’re past that, aren’t we?”
“I would prefer it.”
“Then that’s what it is.”
We fed, watered, and threw the horses hay, then climbed in my truck and drove to the house. My father was in Missouri so I didn’t have to face him but Jules would require an explanation. If we got lucky, Greer would be asleep until we started working in the indoor.
As we entered the kitchen from the terrace, Jules looked up from the melon that she was cutting into chunks. “I know it’s not any of my business but is there anything I should know? Something I should keep quiet about?”
“Absolutely not. I wouldn’t want you lying for me to begin with,” I said pulling off my raincoat.
Lockie followed me into the house. “I didn’t feel well yesterday.”
“Is that why you didn’t eat?”
“Yes. I asked Tali to come down to the apartment and keep me company for a while.”
I found the box of cereal in the cabinet. “Would you make him some cream of wheat? Do we still have some raspberries?”
“A pint.”
“I’ll make the tea.”
“Why can’t I have a hamburger?” Lockie asked.
“You can for lunch,” Jules said. “I’ll make some brioche rolls. Is noon a good time?”
“I’m hungry now.”
“You can have some toast,” she replied.
“You two are ganging up on me,” Lockie said.
Jules and I nodded.
***
By midmorning, I was on CB doing a kindergarten level dressage test in the indoor. I turned CB down the ring’s centerline and halted as squarely as possible.
“What you do is perform all the required elements but still as if you are riding hunter seat.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re a wonderful equitation rider.”
“Am not.”
“Yes, you are, but that’s in your past.”
“If I was so wonderful at it,” I said over him, “why didn’t I place over Greer ever? All I ever was, was passable. Please don’t try to make me feel adequate.”
“You’re right. I won’t try to make you feel adequate.” Lockie shook his head and turned away then turned back. “You didn’t want to place over Greer.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve been doing just enough to appear competent.”
“How do you figure that?”
“A good rider gets a lot out of a horse without taking a lot out of him. You did remarkable work on Butch, who is, frankly, not very talented. CB adores you. He would do anything for you.”
“He would do anything for you,” I replied.
“With persuasion. For you, he does everything with enthusiasm. That’s where the swish comes from, but I wish he’d knock that move off.”
“How do you know this?”
“I can see it by watching the two of you go around the ring. Get off.”
“What?”
Lockie came over to us and I slid to the ground. In one effortless move, Lockie was in the saddle and turned CB to the track.
“This is how you canter.”
He put CB into a canter. It looked fine to me.
“This is a working canter.”
A moment later, there was a subtle but discernible change in the way CB was moving. He seemed more in balance, more compressed, the gait was rounded and his weight slightly to his hindquarters.
“Think tempo. Think light. Three separate, deliberate beats.”
There was nothing hurried about the canter as CB and Lockie went around the arena and it was as different as night from day compared to what I was accustomed to.
Lockie pulled CB to a walk and turned toward me.
“CB must be very talented,” I said.
“Very.”
“He’s patient with me, isn’t he?”
Lockie smiled. “Yes, he’s happy.”
“Why should he be so pleased?”
Lockie slid off. “Because you’re a kind person and a gentle rider.”
I reached out, took Lockie’s shirt, pulled him to me and kissed his cheek.
“That is so much better. Now you’re treating me like Butch.”
Lockie kissed me in return.