High Hurdles (31 page)

She dug some paper plates out of the cupboard and handed them to the boys. “One plate each.”

“What’s to drink?”

“Got me. Ask your father. He seems to know better’n I do what’s going on around here.”

“Darla Jean Randall!” The hiss came from directly behind her.

DJ felt as if she’d been stabbed. Her mother only called DJ by her full name when she was really angry. Lindy knew how much her daughter hated the name.

“You will be polite, you hear?”

DJ nodded. She reached up for the glasses. “Did you bring soda to drink?”

“No, Robert says the boys can have milk.” Lindy leaned over to check the open fridge. “Oh, we’re out.”

“Yeah, we’re out of lots of things. No one’s been to the store.”

Lindy planted her hands on her slim hips. “Did you mark it on the list?”

DJ pointed out the check marks on a computerized grocery list stuck to the door with an apple magnet.

“Oh” was all Lindy said.

DJ took down the container of powdered lemonade and began mixing it. “If it’s sugar he’s worried about, tell him we drink diet stuff.” She held up the can. “Sugar free.”

DJ took the napkins and forks and headed for the dining room. Knowing her mother, she would probably forget the drinks.

“I’m sorry, DJ, I should have called.” Robert took the forks and set them around the table. The Double Bs perched on either side of an empty chair.

“That’s okay. I’m always ready for pizza.” DJ eyed the two giant-sized pizzas, one loaded with everything, the other topped with Canadian bacon and pineapple. “And you got my favorites.”

“Mine too.” He dropped his voice. “Left off the anchovies.”

DJ felt the beginnings of a smile tug at her mouth. DJ had never shared her mother’s love for anchovies. “Thanks.”

“DJ, sit here.” Both boys patted the empty seat. “We saved it for you.”

“What can I say?” Robert lifted his hands in a shrug. “They think you’re the next best thing to Santa Claus.”

Robert waited for all to clasp hands and bow heads. “Bobby, your turn to say grace.”

Bobby scrunched his eyes closed. “God is great, God is good . . .”

DJ said it along with him under her breath. Since Gran left, the Randalls hadn’t said much grace. Her mother had only done it to appease Gran.

Billy chimed in loudly on the “Amen.”

Neither DJ nor Lindy could stay mad through dinner. Laughter erupted, calmed, and erupted again between Robert and the boys. DJ felt as though she was in the first car on a roller-coaster.

“Daddy’s gonna buy us a pony.”

“No, two ponies.”

DJ wished she could tell which twin was talking when. “Can anyone tell these two apart?”

“Most of the time,” Robert answered. “But not always. At least, not immediately. I watch for certain clues. I’ll teach them to you when we have a few minutes.”

There he goes again, as if there are going to be many nights like this
. She carefully refrained from looking at her mother. Lindy couldn’t tell the twins apart, either, and she didn’t like using B&B. The pair got full giggle mileage out of her mistakes.

By the time they’d cleaned up after dinner, DJ excused herself. “I’ve got a bunch of homework to do.” She fended off four small, clutching hands. “Later, guys. Next time we’ll draw and color.” There she went, acting as if this would become a common occurrence, just like Robert.

Help, Amy, we need a plan—and quick!

Chapter
•
6

“But, Ames, this time’ll be different. I promise.”

Amy shook her head and sighed. “That’s what you always say.”

The two girls rested propped up with pillows on the floor of DJ’s bedroom, frequently dipping into a giant bowl of popcorn. The item of the evening: plans.

“I know what we can do about Tony. If everyone ignores him and we all pretend he isn’t around, pretty soon he’ll quit the Academy. And then Hilary won’t have a problem anymore.” DJ rolled over to her belly, the better to reach the popcorn. “It’s got to work.” She stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth and licked her buttery fingers.

“But we can’t tell Hilary.” Amy sat up. “She’ll be furious—Bridget too.”

“I know, that’s the hard part.”

“How are we going to let all the others know without them finding out?”

“I’ll take care of that.”

“Now
that’s
a scary solution.” Amy ducked to escape the pillow DJ threw. “Let’s go to bed—I’m beat.”

“No way. Now we need to work on the major plan.” DJ twisted her mouth from side to side. “The plan of all plans—to keep my mother from marrying Robert.”

“You know how cruel that sounds?”

“You’ve got to be kidding. You should have seen the way Robert took over the other night. ‘DJ, set the table. DJ, entertain the Double Bs. DJ . . . ’ You’da thought I was the nanny or something.” DJ ignored the twinge of guilt she felt. Even she could recognize exaggeration.

“So . . . could be worse.” Amy dug a hull out from between two teeth.

“Whose side are you on, anyway?”

Amy shrugged. “I like Robert. But more than that, I know you do, too. And it’s obvious what your mother thinks. Who knows? It could be fun to have him for a dad.”

DJ stared at her friend. Had Amy read her mind again? “It’s a matter of principle.”

“You talked to Gran?”

“Sure, I was there the other night, remember?” DJ tried to find a comfortable position. She smacked the pillows behind her into a new shape and then repeated the effort. But when she leaned back, something poked her.

“I mean about the wedding.”

Ignoring Amy, DJ punched her pillows again. “You want something else to drink?”

Amy sloshed her can. “Nope.” She got to her feet and picked up her sleeping bag. “How about we sleep out on the deck? Pretty soon it’ll be too cold.”

A few minutes later, stretched out in their sleeping bags on the lounges, they stared up at the black sky. A jet winked its way east. The sliver of moon hung above the tallest eucalyptus trees, as if tethered like a kite.

A dog barked. DJ recognized the Rottweiler from two doors down. From a distance came the muted roar of the freeway. The light from the master bathroom clicked off, leaving the house dark except for the lamp in the family room.

“We’d have to leave this house if Mom and Robert go through with it.” The breeze carried DJ’s soft voice.

“The house isn’t the same anyway without Gran.”

“Do you have to have an answer for everything?” While meant as a joke, DJ felt like slamming her fist on the redwood deck. “I don’t
want
to move. I don’t
want
a new father. I don’t even care about the one I do have.” Quiet for a minute. “ ’Course I might if I knew my real dad, but I don’t. And I most especially don’t want . . .”

A cricket answered her, and a soft snuffle told her that Amy had fallen asleep.

I don’t know what I want anymore
. DJ turned over and replayed her pillow-thumping routine. It didn’t help any more now than it had earlier. What was she going to do?

The next morning, both girls hurried through cleaning their required stalls and grooming at the Academy. Amy and her family were going into San Francisco, and DJ was going with Joe and Gran to Redding to look at a couple of cutting horses for Joe. With Tony nowhere in sight, they didn’t have to worry about putting their plan into action.

Saturday mornings were usually spent riding and practicing. Sometimes DJ taught a class. This Saturday, the plan added an extra task. Every time DJ saw one of the other student workers, she pulled that person aside and explained the plan. “Don’t talk to Tony Andrada” became the password of the day. DJ told each person to pass it on but to make sure Tony, Hilary, and Bridget didn’t hear about it. By the time she’d worked both Major and Patches, the hands on her wristwatch were already close to eleven.

Amy had finished and gone home an hour earlier.

DJ rode into Gran and Joe’s drive just as they were loading things into his green Ford Explorer.

“You’re just in time.” Gran turned from packing the fishing tackle box that held all her paints.

“I thought we were going to look for horses.” DJ dropped a kiss on her grandmother’s rose-scented cheek.

“You’re dropping me off at the Viano Winery so I can paint, then picking me up on the way back.” Gran gave DJ a quick one-arm hug. “I haven’t gotten to do a landscape for a long time, and the hills covered with grape vines are so beautiful this time of year.”

“You’re busy ’cause you keep getting more contracts for books.” DJ rubbed her stomach. “Anything to eat? I’m starved.”

“So what’s new?” Joe came out of the house with a cooler and picnic basket in hand. “I brought plenty so you can start munching immediately if you need to.”

“Thanks. How come you already know me so well?”

“I raised three kids, that’s why.” Joe set the food boxes on the floor. “And teenagers, whether male or female, are always hungry. It’s a universal law.”

“You should know, Mr. Policeman.” DJ leaned in and flipped open the cooler to extract a soda and an apple.

“Mr. Ex-policeman, you mean.” He held the front door open so Gran could climb into the Explorer. “Last call for anything you’ve forgotten.”

As soon as they were on the road, DJ dug a bologna and cheese sandwich out of the cooler and a bag of chips from the basket. “Anyone else want anything?” she asked just before sinking her teeth into the sandwich. Gran had even baked bread.

“No, thanks.”

After they dropped Gran off to paint, DJ moved to the front seat and propped her knees on the dash. “I think you should buy Gran a horse, too.”

“I offered, and she said no thank you but we could buy one for the other grandkids if I liked.”

“That’s like Gran. I know she would love riding up in Briones. She could find some neat places to paint. You know, if you want to ride Major up there, I can always take Megs. She’s feeling left out since I got Major.” Megs belonged to Bridget and had been retired from showing.

“We’ll see. I might have a horse of my own after today.”

But that was not to be. DJ took an instant dislike to the first horse they looked at. “I don’t care if his bloodlines go clear back to Spain, his back legs are bad. As he gets older, they’ll just get worse.” The Bridgetlike comments rolled off DJ’s tongue.

Joe gave her a smile. “I saw that, too, but he is well trained.”

“You can train one just as well.”

The second horse required more deliberation. Joe rode the chestnut gelding around the ring, putting it through what paces it had. The ad had stated the horse was green broke, and it wasn’t kidding.

“He’ll grow some.” The owner leaned on the board fence beside DJ. “His sire has taken awards up and down the coast. We’ll be entering him in Nationals next year. And his dam has produced two Nationals winners already.”

DJ listened to his sales pitch and watched Joe on the horse. “He’ll take a lot of training.” The gelding was refusing to switch leads or stand still.

“True, but he hasn’t learned any bad habits, either. I broke him myself, so I know he’s a willing learner.”

Joe rode the horse up to the fence. “What do you think, DJ? He’s fairly easy gaited. You ride him and see what you think.”

DJ adjusted the stirrups on the Western saddle and swung aboard. The horse reminded her of Patches, all go and no brains. What would Bridget say? The bloodlines were good, the confirmation okay—near as she could tell—and the price wasn’t too bad for a three-year-old registered Quarter Horse.

Joe thanked the man and promised they’d get back to him in a day or so. They discussed the pros and cons of the horse on the way back to pick up Gran, but still had reached no decision by the time they got home.

“Well, my darlings, I say if you have to talk about that horse this much, then he isn’t the one to buy. When you see the right one, I think you’ll know right away.” Gran carefully lifted her easel out of the car so she wouldn’t smear the still-wet oil paints.

“Sort of love at first sight, you mean?” Joe handed DJ the cooler and hamper while he retrieved the remainder of their gear.

“Y’all could call it that.”

“But, Gran, there are so many things to consider.”

“You’ll see.”

DJ and Joe swapped there-she-goes-again looks.

But DJ had learned through the years that when Gran gave her opinions, they were usually right. “Have you been praying for a horse for Joe?”

“Of course, child. Why wouldn’t I?” Gran stopped with one foot on the bottom step. “There is nothing so small that God doesn’t want us to talk it over with Him. Why, I even talk to Him about what to serve for dinner.”

DJ followed her into the house. The delicious smells of garlic and tomato sauce greeted them.

“And what did He say today?” DJ sniffed appreciatively.

“Lasagna. The salad’s all tossed, and the garlic bread’s ready for the oven.” Gran glanced at her watch. “Lindy and Robert will be here with the boys any minute now. Thank goodness for ovens with timers.”

DJ groaned. “Why didn’t anyone tell me they were coming?”

“Why, what difference does it make?” Gran looked at her as if she’d grown horns or something.

“I didn’t bring clean clothes. You know how she hates it when I smell like horse.”

“Do you want me to take you home to change?” Joe dropped a kiss on the back of Gran’s neck as he walked by.

“You needn’t worry—I washed the jeans and shirt you left here last time you spent the night.” Gran gave DJ a gentle shove toward the bedroom. “You can shower, too, if it would make you feel better.”

“There’s the car. I’ll keep the Double Bs busy until you’re ready.” Joe winked at DJ. “They think grandpas are
almost
as good as a big sister.” He ducked away from her fake punch.

“I’ll just ignore them all and hide out in here,” DJ muttered to the pounding water. But she knew that wouldn’t work. Her stomach was growling in anticipation of the lasagna. Besides, she knew her mother would threaten general destruction if she tried such a thing. Anything too obnoxious, and she might be grounded again. Now
that
was a fate worse than death. Last time—actually the one and only time it had ever happened to her—had nearly done her in.

DJ turned off the shower and dressed quickly. The laughter from the other room beckoned almost as persuasively as the lasagna and garlic bread.

The Double Bs’ giggles were more catching than poison oak.

DJ forced her lips to stay in a straight line at their first elephant joke. Baby stuff.

She couldn’t remember the answer to the second. It had been a long time since she’d heard an elephant joke.

But she knew the answer to the third. When Robert paused for someone to answer, she couldn’t resist. “Footprints in the Jell-O.”

“Huh?” The B on her right looked up at her.

“You can tell an elephant’s been in the refrigerator by the footprints in the Jell-O.” Left B started to giggle, then right B got the joke and the giggles turned to hoots. Very contagious.

DJ glanced up to see Robert smiling at her. Gran and Joe were chuckling with the boys. DJ sneaked a peek at her mother. Lindy had
never
appreciated stupid jokes. But growing up, DJ hadn’t much minded because Gran had always been there to laugh with her.

When the giggles subsided somewhat, Robert asked, “How can you tell if there’s an elephant in a cherry tree?”

“How?”

DJ had to bite her tongue. The silly answers were coming back to her.

Oh, fiddle
. DJ leaned to her right and whispered in that B’s ear. “Because elephants always wear red tennies.”