No Time for Horses (6 page)

“No way.” Robin hastily swallowed her coffee
before she spewed it. “What was the answer?”

“She opted to do it herself since they got
back late from Rick’s.”

Robin’s jaw dropped. “You’re calling your dad
by his first name?”

“As everyone has taken great pains to point
out for the last six months, he is
not
my father. Therefore,
it is inappropriate for me to call him ‘Dad’.” I blinked hard, but
a tear escaped before I managed to stop it. “So, I won’t call him
that anymore.”

“Wow,” Robin said again. She came around the
table and hugged me. “What’s up? Why are you so pissed?”

“Because Mommie Dearest and Daddy Rick have
decided that I can’t stay here at Lincoln. They’re not paying my
tuition in January. So, that means I have to transfer to a public
school right after Christmas.”

“No, way!”

“Yes, way.” I popped the cap on my latte and
took a swallow. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, first things first, who is your
advisor?”

“Why? What does he have to do with
anything?”

“Because, we’re going to get him involved in
this mess.” Robin stood up. “Come on. Let’s go raid his room. Who
are we after?”

“Mr. Baxter,” I said. “He advises the entire
student council.”

“He’s the guy we’re looking for, and we need
to hustle. School starts in fifteen minutes.”

I got up and followed her to the History
wing. Mr. Baxter was in his room grading papers when we entered. A
big, burly, bald-headed dude in a black polo shirt, black jeans,
and boots, he looked like a biker on the loose.

He looked at us as we came in then nodded at
us. “How’s the food drive going?”

“No way to tell yet,” I said. “We just
started yesterday.”

“The cross-country team is going to win this
year,” Robin said. “We have a problem, Mr. B. How do you feel about
special elections?”

“Negative, very negative.” He picked up his
coffee cup. “They’re a pain to organize and take forever. Why?”

“My mom and stepdad are divorcing. They’ve
decided that I need to change schools because they can’t afford the
tuition,” I said. “My mother just told me last night.”

“Wonderful.” Mr. Baxter growled, sounding
like an angry bear. “Don’t they think I have enough to do? Progress
reports, a food drive to supervise, a new History 300 unit to
organize, tests for the last units for all my classes, a lesson
plan for my substitute tomorrow.…”

I couldn’t help it. I giggled. “It’s not all
about you.”

“Want to bet?” Mr. Baxter began to sort
through the papers on his desk. “It would have been nice to have
more notice. You could have applied for scholarships to cover your
costs if they’d notified us last spring, Vicky. Between the Honor
Roll, cheerleading, and being in student government, you would have
had a good chance. Now, we’ll have to try for a grant.”

“A grant? What’s that?” I asked.

“We’ll arrange for one of the alumni or a
business to sponsor you. We may only be able to cover the tuition
for second semester. That will give you the opportunity to look
over the available scholarships for your junior year.”

“And I won’t have to leave Lincoln High.” I
smiled at him and Robin. “Thank you. I was totally freaking out. I
love this school.”

“We don’t want to lose you either,” Mr.
Baxter said, handing me a stapled form. “I’ll call your parents and
explain that we can help you stay here.”

“I wouldn’t do it right away, Mr. B.,” Robin
said. “They want her to go to the alternative school so she’ll be
available to babysit more often and they can save money on the
baby’s daycare.”

The warning bell rang just then, so I didn’t
have to tell my advisor that my best friend was a bit of a drama
diva who tended to exaggerate. I waited until we were in the hall,
headed for Homeroom English, before I said, “Robin, they never told
me that. Not about the alternative high school.”

“Vicky, wake up and smell that latte I bought
you. There’s no point in you going to the biggest public school in
the state. Marysville has more programs than we do. Their cheer
coach would die to have you on her squad. Your evil mother may not
have said it yet, but the bottom line is money. If you attend the
alternative school, you can take Chrissy with you.”

“But, she’s my half-sister, not my baby. Why
would the school let me have her?”

“Because you’re her primary caregiver. I’d
bet they’d make an exception in that case.” Robin drained her
mocha, dropping the cup in the recycle bin. “I could be wrong. Just
watch yourself in case I’m right.”

* * * *

Thursday, November 14th, 3:45 p.m.

It had started to rain, a bare mist sliding
across my face as we walked to the strip mall where my family
visited the court-appointed counselor in her office. At least there
weren’t any puddles today, and that was a blessing. Last time,
Lance and Kevin stomped through them, and I heard all about it from
my mother when they showed up with wet feet.

Sometimes, the kids were better than other
times when it came to listening to me. Kevin constantly tested me.
If he was a horse, I’d have put him in the round pen and drove him
to run laps until he licked his lips, made chewing motions, and
gave me his undivided attention. However, what worked with Aladdin
didn’t always work with little boys.

I pushed the stroller up the sidewalk to the
front door. Linda helped me take it inside. Cathy hurried into the
waiting room with the boys. By the time I arrived, the receptionist
had given the three of them crackers, coloring pages, and juice
packs. I organized the kids around one of the tables, got treats
for Linda, and finally was able to sit down. Chrissy was sound
asleep, so I just parked the stroller by my chair.

The silvery blonde behind the desk smiled at
me. She looked totally professional in a blue-flowered top and blue
slacks, but I figured she had to be at least as old as the kids’
grandma.

After a few minutes, the woman said, “Mr. and
Mrs. Miller are inside with Dr. O’Hara.”

“Their parents.” It was time to distance
myself from the Miller family. “I’m their half-sister. We only have
the same mom and different dads.”

Kevin gaped at me as if I was a stranger.
“But, you are our ‘real’ sister, right?”

“No. I’m your half-sister. I’m not related to
your dad or any of his relatives. That’s why I don’t go with you on
your visits with Rick.”

“Daddy said you could come if you want,”
Cathy announced. “Then, you’d be able to take care of us.”

“I work hard enough taking care of all of you
the rest of the week.” I leaned back in the upholstered chair. “I
deserve one day off where I don’t do laundry, clean the house, cook
meals…”

“Help with homework, read to us, play with
us, and take care of Chrissy.” Linda wrapped one of her braids
around a finger. “I love you, Mama Vicky.”

“Me too. I love you too.” I smiled at the
little blonde want-a-be angel. “Finish up your snack. I’ll bet Dr.
O’Hara will let you play games in her office.”

While the four of them were busy, I went over
to the desk. “I want to talk to the doctor today. Will you please
let her know?”

“Of course.” The receptionist reached for the
phone. “I keep forgetting that you’re a member of the family. You
seem so adult when you take care of these kids.”

“I’m sixteen.” I lowered my voice so only she
would hear me. I wondered what training it required to answer
phones and wait on people. “My mother wants me to drop out of
school and give up my extracurricular activities so I can babysit
and manage the house full time. Do you think Dr. O’Hara would let
me explain why that’s not a good idea?”

“Definitely. I’m glad you realize the value
of an education.” The receptionist picked up the receiver and
pushed a button. In a moment, she said into the phone, “Dr. O’Hara,
Vicky has arrived with the Miller children. Did you know that she’s
related to them, not an au-pair? May I send her in to discuss her
staying in school with the three of you?”

Utter silence while she listened to whatever
the counselor had to say then it was, “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll
bring her straight back.”

I adjusted my purse and looked at Kevin.
“You’re in charge until I get back because you’re the oldest. I
have to go explain that dropping out of school isn’t a good choice
for me.”

The four older kids eyed each other and then
Cathy said, “We’ll be good, Mama Vicky. Promise.”

Kevin nodded in agreement. “I’ll take care of
everybody.”

“I know you will.” When he smiled at me, I
wondered if that was what I needed to do, treat him as if he was
older rather than younger. He was ten, and it wasn’t his fault that
Mom dumped all the responsibility on me. I took a deep breath.
Time to stand up for myself
. I’d think about the kids
later.

Right now, I had to focus on what
I
needed and that was staying in Lincoln High. I wasn’t becoming a
teen statistic no matter what my mom and her soon-to-be ex-husband
wanted. I would stay in school, graduate, go to college, and become
the best natural horse trainer in Washington State.

Chapter Six

Thursday,
November 14th, 4:00 p.m.

The receptionist opened the office door for
me, and I went inside. Three adults sat around a table. I pulled
out a chair and joined them. Two women and one guy, but my dad
didn’t seem outnumbered. I hadn’t actually seen him in a while. I
was at cheer practice or prepping for a football game when he was
supposed to pick up the kids on Fridays, and one of them usually
helped Chrissy toddle inside when he returned them on Sunday
afternoons.

He had a new haircut. I had to wonder if the
stylist had added blond highlights since there wasn’t any gray at
his temples. He looked clean in his old-guy manager attire of a
white shirt, black slacks, and a tie, so he must be going to the
late shift at the tire store. He sure hadn’t come from there. He’d
lost the little paunch. Oh, yeah. He was definitely forty-five
going on barely thirty, too young for a sixteen-year-old
stepdaughter. His new girlfriend must have him eating healthy. He
smiled at me. I nodded back at him. “Hi, Rick.”

“What did you call me?” His smile faded into
a frown.

“Rick.” I met his blue gaze. “Would you
prefer that I call you ‘Mr. Miller’ or ‘sir’? I didn’t realize I’d
overstepped the boundaries until Mom told me last night that I have
to drop out of school. You’re not my father, and you won’t pay for
me to stay at Lincoln any longer.”

Absolute silence and then he turned a furious
look on my mother. “I said I couldn’t pay more child support for my
kids and that tuition was coming due. I didn’t say Vicky had to
leave school.”

“How am I supposed to make ends meet?” Mom
glared back at him. “The house eats money and so do the kids. The
holidays are coming and that means more expenses, not less. If
Vicky goes to public school, it will save a hefty chunk.”

“How?” I asked. I pulled out a chair and sat
down, giving her a steady once-over. She wasn’t wearing her casino
uniform, no surprise. Instead, she’d opted for a white dress with a
red belt, cosmetics, and it looked like she’d taken time to get a
manicure. She and Rick were on the same page of trying to make the
other person suffer. Weren’t they supposed to be the adults?

I folded my hands on the table and focused on
sounding as mature as possible. Somebody needed to be an adult in
this room, and it sure wasn’t the two of them. “Switching cheer
squads means new uniforms and those are pricy. Pioneer has
different colors, and when I called at lunch, the coach said she
would walk on hot coals to have me. I don’t even have to try out.
She’ll shuffle the flyers around so I have a top slot. She says
they’re on a different schedule so I can easily run for election to
the student council when I’m enrolled there, and the National Honor
Society doesn’t give a whoop and a holler where I attend
classes.”

“I didn’t know you were a cheerleader,
Vicky.” This time it was the counselor. Petite, plump, with her
white hair in a bun, Ingrid O’Hara looked like a grandma from an
old-time TV ad, especially in a light blue polyester pantsuit from
the seventies. “Didn’t your pregnancy interfere with that?”

“What?” My jaw just about hit the big wooden
table. I stared at her, feeling like the old lady just
witch-slapped me. “I’m not pregnant. I’ve never been pregnant.
Hello! What’s going on here? Are you insane?”

“Chrissy.” The elderly woman glanced around
the table, a frown deepening the lines on her wrinkled face. “Isn’t
it time to get everything out on the table instead of ignoring the
proverbial elephant in the middle of the room? The real reason
Vicky needs to go to the alternative school is that she can have
her daughter with her. You and Rick have done a good job trying to
help her, Gretchen, but there comes a point when it’s no longer
help, but enabling.”

“Whoa! Hold on there!” I jumped up. The chair
fell over behind me. “Chrissy isn’t my baby. She’s my sister. Okay,
my half-sister, since Rick is making a big deal of not being my
father.”

He gave me a long-suffering look like I was
picking on him along with everyone else. “That wasn’t personal,
Vicky. It’s just the money. I can barely afford to pay three
hundred dollars for each of my five kids every month. I care about
you. I just can’t pay for you too.”

“Yeah, right. So, that’s why you walked out
on my sixteenth birthday?” Sarcasm dripped from each word. Well, at
least I hoped it did. Better to sound pissed than heartbroken. “You
didn’t want to give me a present? And I’m not Robin. I didn’t ask
for a classic sports car. All I wanted was a cake I didn’t have to
make, ice cream that I didn’t have to buy, and a gift certificate
for a few riding lessons.”