Joy and Tiers (21 page)

“Yes, that’s true, Mindy is very stubborn when she sets her mind to something,” Heather agrees chuckling. “She saw someone making baked Alaska on television a couple of months ago and she’s trying to convince me she’s ready to try that. She won’t take my word for it that it’s a pretty advanced technique even for a culinary student. So, we’ve been working on cookies and yeast breads. But she still has her eye on the prize. It won’t be long before she’s making that baked Alaska.”

“So, what do you say?” I press as I toss Heather a brush. She looks down at her tight fitting A-line dress and her little kitten pumps and gives me a look that says something akin to ‘get real’.

I shrug as I walk over to a row of coveralls hanging on the back wall of the barn. I sit down on a stool that’s clearly intended for a horse farrier and strip off my jacket and my cowboy boots. I put on the coveralls over my clothes and put the boots back on. Then, I pull a set of women’s coveralls out of the pile and hand them to Heather. I raise my eyebrows in challenge.

Heather rolls her eyes at me as she snatches the coveralls from my fingers. “Turn your back please,” she orders.

 I dutifully turn around and go back to brushing Velvet. I can hear her rustling and muttering under her breath.

“I can’t believe the things I do for you. I let you talk me into the craziest things…” 

 “Are you ready to do one more?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” Heather asks warily, looking at me with narrowed eyes.

“Well, by the looks of that tack, I’d say Velvet here is used to being ridden every day and she’s probably pretty lonely right about now. I’d ride her—except I’m far too tall and heavy. You’re about the size of your grandmother, so you should suit her just fine. Don’t worry, I’ll lead you around the pasture at a nice slow trot. I’ll take very good care of you, but this old girl needs some companionship or things are going to be much worse for her. Can we do that for her?”

I watch as Heather's compassionate side far outweighs her fear. Her spine stiffens and her jaw juts out. “Tyler, do you think the sugar cube trick will work for Velvet the way it did for Fannie, Julia and Jacques?” she asks.

“I’m sure it would, Gidget,” I answer with a warm smile. I knew it would only be a matter of time before she would conquer her fear. Everything that I have seen from her indicates that she has nerves of steel. “I think I saw some over in this other stall.”

I walk over to the other stall and find an old canning jar with sugar cubes sealed inside. I wonder how many times Heather’s grandparents came out and fed the horses out of this very jar. I stick a handful of the sweet treats in my pocket and return the old dusty jar to the windowsill. I return to the barn and hold a couple of sugar cubes out to Velvet. At first, it seems like she’s going to refuse them from me, but eventually she gently sucks them up. After I’ve confirmed her temperament, I hand the sugar cubes to Heather. Heather holds the sugar cubes out in the palm of her hand. I didn’t have to show her twice how to hold her fingers. She is so still that nothing on her body moves, including her eyelashes. Velvet is understandably curious.

Velvet took the sugar from Heather and a lifetime of fear seems to start to melt away.

“I should really do this,” Heather resolves. “It would be selfish of me not to.”

“That’s entirely up to you. I’m not going to judge you one way or the other. I want you to be comfortable with your decision. I’ll support you either way,” I announce as I rub her shoulders.

“You promise to be beside me the whole time?” she probes.

“I promise,” I answer solemnly. “I’ll be on you like chocolate on a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. I won’t budge an inch.”

Heather takes a deep breath. She places her hand in mine she places her other hand on Velvet’s neck as she says, “Come on, girl. Let’s go take a walk around the corral before I chicken out and change my mind. Mindy was not quite seven when she went on her first horseback ride, I can’t have her completely showing me up. As a member of the Girlfriend Posse I’ve got to at least make an effort to hold my own, don’t you think?”

Velvet seems to make a knowing nod as she nickers. I pull a bale of hay out of the spare stall and set it in front of the barn I placed an old saddle blanket on top of it and gestured for Heather to sit on it.

 “You might as will make yourself comfortable. It’s going to take me a bit to saddle Velvet up properly,” I comment as I start pulling the appropriate tack off the wall. “There’s a few pairs of old boots here if you want to change out of your dress shoes.”

Finally, I got Velvet all geared up. When I look over at Heather, she’s very pale. She appears to be praying. “Are you all right Gidget?” I ask, with concern in my voice. I don’t want to make today any worse for her than it already is. 

“Yeah, I’m just talking to my grandma, trying to summon the courage to do this. If she can go to war, I can ride a horse around in a circle. I think she told me to 'get my britches out of a bunch'. I swear I heard her say that. I know you’re going to think I’m nuts— and at this point, I probably am—but I’m just going to go with that. Velvet and I are going to go for a ride because my grandma just told us to.”

“Babe, you’re talking to somebody who has been on the battlefield. You have no idea how many people speak to you when you’re in a foxhole. I’m not going to think you’re weird. Don’t worry about me judging you. That should be the furthest thing from your thoughts.”

 “Okay, I’m going to try not to pass out here. Does that sound like a plan?” Heather answers in a shaky voice.

I walk over to her and gather her up in an embrace. It never ceases to amaze me how perfectly she fits in my arms. Usually, when I so much as touch women, I feel like I’m going to break them in half like a toothpick. Yet, holding Heather in my arms feels like she is the key to my lock. It’s fascinating. Ever since I was a little kid and I was too large for the desks in kindergarten, I’ve never felt like I was the right size for anything. The fact that we match together is simply amazing to me. 

I hold her close for a moment and instruct softly, “Ready? I’m going to lift you up and place you on top of the horse. Just hook your feet in the stirrups and hang on to the straps that are wrapped around the horn of the saddle.”

“You mean this part that sticks up? Can I hang on to it?” she asks with panic in her voice.

“Yes,” I answer indulgently. “It should fit your hand just about perfectly, but you might find it’s in an awkward position to hang onto for very long. Most people hang onto the reins.”

It isn’t the most graceful mount in all the world, but it’ll do. Heather is up and on a horse, which is something she never thought would happen a few weeks ago. I attach an external lead rope to the reins so I have some control over the bit as well. But from all appearances, Velvet appears to have a very soft mouth and seems to respond to the smallest of corrections almost instantaneously. Velvet seems to sense she is dealing with a real beginner even though Heather is not a child, because Velvet is moving with extreme caution. It’s almost as if she’s moving in slow motion. As Velvet lopes around the corral, Heather gradually relaxes into the rhythm and her death grip on my shoulder lessens some. Soon, she lets go completely and she starts to control the reins by herself. I’m still walking beside her with the lead rope, but Heather has no direct contact with me.

As her confidence grows, so does her smile. Her back straightens with pride and her eyes light up with joy. She laughs as she exclaims, “Look! Look what I’m doing! No one would ever believe this. Heather Lydia LaBianca is actually riding a real live horse. I wish my grandparents could have seen this. They would have been totally shocked. What about Tara and Kiera? Their jaws would be on the ground too. I wish they could watch me.”

Heather’s excitement is contagious. I’m grinning from ear to ear like a kid who just discovered Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and the tooth fairy are all real. “Heather, I’m so proud of you. You look amazing up there. You look like you’ve done this your whole life,” I compliment as I tie Velvet’s reins off to my belt loop. I pull out my cell phone and start videotaping.

“Hey Gidget, what do you want to tell Mindy about horseback riding now?” I ask as I’m filming.

Heather chortles as she says, “Very funny Cowboy! Okay, so you were right. I should’ve done this a really long time ago. This is the most fun I’ve had in a really long time. Mindy, this is a blast. You’re going to have so much fun with your horseback riding lessons. I can’t wait to ride with you. Tyler is a great teacher. Velvet is a wonderful horse.” Heather turns to me and says, “Can you believe I said any horse is a great horse? That’s so amazing to me.”

“I had no doubt you were going to slay those dragons Heather. I’m so proud of you,” I gush as I snap one last picture of her. “Speaking of Dragons, you have a few more to conquer today. We should probably get going.”

Heather’s shoulders slump. “Is it evil of me to think I don’t even want to go?” she asks with a sad sigh. “I just don’t want to have another showdown.”

“It’s perfectly understandable. This one is for your grandma’s friends. The rest of ‘em can take a fly’n leap for all I care. This is your chance to say goodbye. Let’s not let them ruin that for you,” I answer as I lift her off of Velvet.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a hell of a party, right?” Heather replies wiping a tear away. 

“Of course it is because you’re going to be there and you cooked. In my book, that’s all any good party needs,” I assure her.

“Are you sure that Jeff doesn’t want us to tell her anything in advance?” Heather asks me from the passenger seat as she looks back at the horse trailer. “Velvet is an awfully huge surprise.”

“No, that’s the beauty of the whole situation. Jeff plans to keep it from both Kiera and Mindy. So, he’s going to get double mileage out of it for Christmas. Since I’m leasing to buy my place, I’m going to add a platform onto the barn so Kiera can get out here with her chair and watch Mindy ride.”

“That’ll be so much fun,” Heather comments. “I still can’t believe we managed to get out of there with my horse. As mad as my parents are at me, I never thought it was going to happen.” 

“Well, it probably wouldn’t have if there weren’t specific instructions that you were supposed to inherit all of the pets and then a note specifying that your grandmother considered Velvet to be her favorite pet,” I explain. “It was a pretty clever move on her part. She knew your dad would consider all of the horses nothing more than property. What a way to brutally bring him to his knees! She took measures to specifically counter that notion in writing. It was a darn stroke of genius if you ask me. I only wish your dad had been completely sober so that the impact would have been more severe.”

“True, it was pretty intense when he threw up on Pastor Mike in the middle of the memorial service. It’s too bad he was so drunk he won’t even remember the embarrassment,” she replies.

“Somehow, I suspect your dad would believe it was someone else’s fault anyway. What did your sister give us?”

“I don’t know. She made me promise not to open it until I got here. The suspense is killing me. I just know it’s long and heavy and in a tube. You have no idea how much restraint I’m showing in respecting my sister’s wishes. This is very atypical for me because I’m usually very impulsive. You need to know that about me, by the way.”

I nod as I say, “Heather, I think I do. You once changed the entire menu on the food truck because you saw on TV it was national donut day.”

Heather laughs as she exclaims, “Hey now! That was brilliant marketing, if I do say so myself. Now, it may not have worked so well on National Liverwurst Day.”

I groan as I make retching noises. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I am,” she responds with a grin, “but it would’ve been funny.”

“Probably,” I agree, “but not so much your bottom line and the neighbors surrounding your food truck probably wouldn’t have been so amused.”

“Well, there’s a party pooper in every crowd, I guess,” she mutters. “I had one lady call the police on my food truck because the smells coming from my food truck were interfering with her Weight Watchers diet. She thought it was unfair because she was spending good money to go to Weight Watchers and therefore it was sort of like assault and battery for my truck to be there. Fortunately, the police officer was a big fan of my food so he didn’t make me move my truck. In fact, he told her that by calling the police she was interfering with my right to practice my business and if she continued he might arrest her. I never heard from her again, but then again, I don’t think I went back to that neighborhood again either.”

“Some people have way too much free time,” I remark, shaking my head. “I’ll be glad when you have your own place.”