No Time for Horses (3 page)

She ought to have tonight off to spend with
the kids. Then, why hadn’t she answered my calls or stepped up to
take care of my sibs? When she got closer, Mom planted her fists on
her hips and yelled, “Let’s go, young lady. You have work to do.
And I don’t appreciate being left in the lurch.”

I winced. Well, this was going to be
embarrassing. “I called and left messages.”

“Since I didn’t call you back, why didn’t you
do what you were supposed to do?”

No answer was necessary. I headed for the
glass doors, and the lecture at the top of her lungs continued all
the way out of the building. Finally, Mom paused for breath and
demanded, “What were you thinking?”

“That I’m Sophomore Class Prez,” I said, “and
the holiday food drive starts tomorrow. I realize you need a maid,
a housekeeper and a babysitter, but you and Dad were the ones who
told me I should participate in high school activities. You even
helped me with my campaign last spring.”

Another glare from Mom. “I don’t have time to
trail after you and pick up all the loose ends. I need you to be a
help once in a while.”

“Try all the time.” I waited for her to
unlock the doors of the Ford Taurus X. I put the five-year-old
twins, Lance and Linda, into their car seats. At nine, Cathy could
buckle her own seatbelt and so could Kevin. He smirked at me from
the back seat. I knew he’d be even more of a pest now. He already
figured I was the household servant and did his best to make
trouble for me.

I got in the passenger seat. “It’s not fair,
Mom. You dump the kids on me all the time, and I barely get to see
my friends. If it was up to you, I’d be off the cheer squad by
now.”

“What are you talking about?” She yanked her
seatbelt into place and started the engine. “You cheered at all the
football games in September and October.”

“No thanks to you or Dad,” I retorted. “My
friends came and babysat most of the time. Basketball starts in
three weeks. Are you going to wreck that too?”

Another dirty look as she drove toward the
daycare. “You know I work most Friday nights. If I’m not home and
your dad doesn’t pick up the kids, you need to be there.”

“Wonderful.” I bit my lip and stared out the
window, struggling not to cry. I didn’t need this. How long could I
expect my friends to keep bailing me out? Mom pulled up in front of
the daycare, a brightly painted two-story building. I got out and
went inside to get eighteen-month-old Chrissy.

She giggled when she saw me and dropped the
blocks back into the plastic tub. “Mama Vic. Me play, Mama
Vic.”

“Yeah, I know, sweetie.” I scooped up the
little blonde angel, and she about strangled me with a hug. “Let’s
go home.”

An anxious smile on her face, Penny, the
owner of the daycare met me at the counter when I came up to sign
out Chrissy. “I’m sorry, Vicky. I tried to pick up the other
children, but the elementary school refused to release them to me.
It seems it is okay if I drop them off every day, but taking
them…”

“Thanks for trying.” I filled out the time
sheet, bouncing Chrissy on my hip. “Did they tell you what it would
require for you to bring the kids here?”

“A note from your mom or dad.” Penny twined a
braid around one finger then released it. She always reminded me of
an old-time hippie in her long denim dress, knee-high socks, and
sandals. “Do you want me to talk to them?”

“No, I will.” I took the diaper bag she
handed me and carried Chrissy to the door. My little sister kept
babbling. “See you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Penny gave me another strange look
then pushed the stroller out behind me. “Vicky, why don’t I ever
see you with your backpack anymore? My niece attends Lincoln High
and swears the teachers live to give tons of homework.”

“I don’t have time for homework.” I opened
the back door of the SUV. “I have five kids to take care of, a
house to clean, meals to cook, laundry to do. I don’t need a high
school diploma to be a nanny, do I?”

She didn’t answer, just left the stroller for
me and went back inside. So, I was being totally snarky, and I was
pretty sure she’d say something to Dad when he paid the bill. I
didn’t care. Nobody in my family asked me how I managed to keep up
my grades. Part of it was because of Mrs. Weaver and Dr.
Danvers.

They adjusted my schedule so I would be able
to do most of my homework at school. They also arranged for all my
teachers to give me extra copies of the textbooks. I kept them in
the basement at home, so Kevin and Cathy couldn’t destroy them. I
read a lot of my books for the take-home English weekly logs
between loads of laundry. When I went to Robin’s after the football
games, I did school work there. And I did more at the barn on my
breaks. I wasn’t really going to drop out of Lincoln High. Like Dr.
Danvers had told me, I needed a diploma to get out of my mother’s
house. And I’d get one, along with as many scholarships as I needed
to pay for college.

I put the diaper bag on the floor and tucked
Chrissy into her seat between Lance and Linda’s. Chrissy’s lower
lip drooped. “Want horsie, Mama Vic. Want horsie.”

“I’ll get it, baby.” I opened her bag and
pulled out the small stuffed purple unicorn, handing it to her.
“Here you go. What do you say?”

“Fanks, Mama.”

My mother shot me one more of her evil looks
while I loaded up the stroller. “I’m her mother, not you.”

“Chrissy’s a baby,” Cathy said from the back
seat. “She hears the twins do it, so now she does too. She’s been
calling Vicky that all summer.”

“Well, I don’t appreciate it,” Mom told me.
“So, knock it off.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault.” I sat down and
adjusted my seat belt. “You want them to call you ‘Mama’, try
taking care of them once in a while.”

“Why do you think I work all the time?” Mom
demanded. “I am taking care of all of you. And I need you to do
your share, Victoria. You’re the oldest. I have to be able to
depend on you.”

Blah, blah, blah! While she pitched her guilt
trip, Kevin kicked the back of my seat. He punctuated all of her
angry words with repeated thumps of his feet. I wished I could yell
at both of them to leave me alone. What was the use? I knew better
than to argue with anyone in the family. I was the oldest. It meant
I was responsible for everything, from the sun coming up in the
morning to it setting at night.

“Do you have anything else to say for
yourself?” Mom demanded as she pulled up in front of our
split-level house. “I’m waiting.”

“I guess I’m just a bad person.” I shrugged
and hoped it sounded like I didn’t care. “Maybe I better go live
with Dad. His place is nearly as messy as this rathole. He and
Tessa need a maid too, and I’d be able to finish high school if I
lived with him.”

Fury slid into Mom’s face, making her cheeks
bright red. She pointed to the front door. “Take the kids inside
and get to work. Don’t you dare tie up the phone! I’ve had enough
of your playing the martyr. Get your chores done by the time I’m
home.”

I bent down and grabbed my purse off the
floor, determined not to cry. “When will that be? Midnight? Two in
the morning when the bars close? You don’t have a uniform so you’re
not going to work.”

Her mouth tightened into a thin line. “All
right. That’s enough out of you, Victoria Elizabeth Miller. Go to
the basement. I don’t want to see or hear another word from you
until tomorrow morning. Maybe you’ll act like a human being by
then!”

Chapter Three

Tuesday,
November 12th, 5:30 p.m.

Shunning us was my mother’s favorite
punishment since she didn’t believe in hitting us. Being alone used
to really bother me when I was younger. I hated being sent off by
myself to sit in my room while the rest of the family talked, ate,
played games, and hung out together. That was before the divorce.
In the past six months, privacy was rare. I didn’t even have a room
of my own anymore. I shared with my little sisters. Mom moved into
my old room with the idea of fixing up and renting out the master
suite. So far, this switcheroo was still in the testing phase, and
I figured it sucked.

I stopped in the bedroom I shared with the
girls to grab my nightgown, robe, slippers, and the cheer outfit I
needed for school tomorrow. I paused in the kitchen for snacks and
one of the frozen pizzas Mom bought for easy dinners. She wouldn’t
miss it, and I wasn’t about to starve. We kept sodas downstairs so
the kids wouldn’t drink all of them in a couple days. And I was off
to my new favorite place. I didn’t need The Magic Kingdom. Our
daylight basement was enough of a wonderland for me.

I shut the door at the bottom of the stairs
and locked it. I went across to the door that opened into the
garage and locked it too. Alone at last. Yippee! I looked around
the studio apartment. What did I want to do first? TV? Homework? A
shower? Dinner? Wow, it had to be paradise. I wasn’t in charge of
preparing a meal from start to finish that Kevin would complain
about and Cathy would refuse to eat because there were too many
veggies and not enough chocolate. I didn’t have to supervise bath
time for the twins or scrub out the dirty cloth diapers that Penny,
the daycare lady insisted Chrissy use. Yay, me!

I put my food on the counter in the little
kitchenette when I heard the ringtone on my phone. I pulled it out
and answered cautiously in case Dad had finally decided to get back
to me. “Hello.”

“Hey, Vicky. It’s me, Tom. Are you okay?”

Tears sprang into my eyes, and I blinked
hard. “What?”

“I heard your mom.” He paused. “Okay, that
was dumb. I think everybody at school heard your mom. Well, maybe
not the basketball team. They were in the gym.”

He obviously meant to cheer me up, but I
couldn’t laugh, not yet. I sniffed and swallowed the sob in my
throat, wondering why I wanted to cry now. I could deal with Mom
dumping on me. What was so upsetting about kindness? “I’m okay.
It’s not like it’s the first time she’s had a raging fit.”

“Yeah, well, what’s she so pissed about? You
weren’t out getting high or drunk or selling yourself on a street
corner. You were going all out so we could feed hungry people.”

I walked over to the bar stool and hitched up
on it. “I also wasn’t available to take care of my younger brothers
and sisters when she needed a babysitter.”

Silence and then he said, “Yeah, well, some
bosses are like that.”

“She’s my mom, not my boss, although
sometimes it’s hard to know the difference.” I shifted around and
got more comfortable on the stool. “It’s not like I get paid or
anything. She says I have to ‘pitch in’ because it’s family.”

“So, what would happen if you got a job and
paid rent?” Tom asked. “Would it make things easier or harder for
you? If you ‘pitched in’ with some bucks, would that cover it for
her, or does it have to be slave labor?”

“I never thought of that.” I wiped at my nose
with my sweatshirt sleeve and suddenly realized I didn’t feel like
crying. Not anymore. “Rocky offered me a place to live at her
stable when I turn eighteen. I bet she’d hire me as a barn manager
now. She always needs help that can muck stalls, feed, water, and
train horses.”

“Gross. If you’d rather sling burgers, I can
get you a job at the restaurant where I work,” Tom said. “They let
me bring home leftovers, and that saves me on my groceries.”

“Why do you have to buy your own food?” I
asked.

“My old man split when I was a kid, and my
stepdad kicked me out right after my eighteenth birthday last
summer,” Tom said. “I’m okay. I have a one-bedroom apartment now.
It’s better than when I was sleeping in my car.”

“Didn’t your mom stand up for you?”

“No. She could choose me or him. My stepdad
works for Boeing. I only make minimum wage, and I can’t pay the
mortgage on the house or for her new car or cover her Visa.”

“Wow, that sucks.”

He laughed. “Got that right.”

We talked a while longer and then his dinner
break was over. I headed for the shower. What would it cost for me
to rent the downstairs? I could so live down here forever. My own
kitchen, bath, and the living room couch that doubled as a bed.
After my shower, I put on my flannel nightgown and robe. I dried my
hair and checked the clock. It was late enough for Rocky to be in
from the barn, so I called Shamrock Stable.

I heard Sierra rattling pans in the
background as Rocky and I discussed a job. “I know what needs to be
done every day,” I told her. “And I’ve ridden there long enough
that I also know the way you want the barns mucked. What would it
take for me to work there after school and on weekends?”

“A permission slip from your parents,” Rocky
said. “You’re under eighteen, and I don’t need a hassle from my
insurance agent. I can’t give you a lot of hours at this time of
year, Vicky. Things are quiet in the winter and pick up in the
spring and summer. During day camp, I can give you forty hours a
week.”

“How many hours can I get now?”

“About twenty outside of your Saturday
internship,” Rocky said. “And you’ll have to talk to your school
counselor so we don’t mess that up.”

“Okay, I will tomorrow, and I’ll tell you at
my lesson.”

“No worries,” Rocky said. “I’d love to have
you here if we can make all this work, honey. You have a talent
when it comes to horses and that’s rare. If it doesn’t happen right
away, we’ll do it after you graduate from high school. Deal?”

“You bet,” I said. “Deal. Thanks, Rocky.”

There was time for one more call before I hit
my algebra, so I called Robin and brought her up to speed. She
listened while I told her about Tom’s suggestion and then what
Rocky had said when I applied for the barn manager position. When I
finished, the pause lasted a bit too long. “Well?” I demanded.
“What’s on your mind?”