My Favorite Mistake (6 page)

Kate was surprised to see her father's car parked in front of the house when she got home that night. Usually he worked the night shift on Sundays.

Then she remembered him grumbling at dinner last week—something about how the new lieutenant was messing with people's schedules and otherwise shaking things up. Thinking about that made Kate's stomach twist with anxiety. Ever since her mom had gotten laid off from her part-time receptionist job when Kate was nine, any change of that sort made her anxious. But she tried not to dwell. It wasn't like she could do anything about it.

Besides, she was way too tired to worry about it right now. It had been a busy day at the barn as always, plus she'd stayed extra late helping pack up. They were leaving for the show the next day, and there never seemed to be enough time to get everything done.

The only light in the house was coming from the kitchen at the back. Kate headed that way, a little nervous about what she might find.

When she entered, her mother was standing at the sink scrubbing at a crusty saucepan. Kate felt her shoulders relax. Okay, so maybe most people didn't do the dishes at 1:00 a.m. But for Kate's mother, that almost passed as normal.

“Hi, Mom,” Kate said, dropping her bag and sinking down onto one of the stools in front the battered butcher-block kitchen island.

“Katie! You're home.” Her mother turned and smiled, her thin face tired but alert. “I was just starting to worry.”

“You know you can call me whenever,” Kate reminded her. “I always keep my phone on.”

“I know. But I don't like to bother you.” Her mother set down the pan and peeled off her rubber gloves. “Are you hungry? I can make you a plate. There's leftovers from dinner—we had that roast chicken your father likes so much.”

“Thanks. That sounds great.” As her mother hurried over to the refrigerator, Kate's mind drifted back to Pelham Lane and everything she had to do the next day. She loved shows, but sometimes she hated them, too. She especially hated hearing some of the other juniors complain about how it was
so
stressful having to show their hunters and then rush to warm
up their eq horses, with barely enough time to have lunch and gossip with their friends in between. What did they know about stress?

She snapped out of it when her mother set a plate in front of her. “There you go, Katie,” she said, already bustling back over to the fridge. “Just let me grab you some juice.”

Kate's heart sank as she looked at the plate. Anyone else might not have noticed anything off about it. It was just a plate of chicken, carrots, and new potatoes.

No, the food itself wasn't the strange part. It was the way her mother had arranged it on the plate. Carefully, with none of the different foods touching each other. Exactly four pieces of chicken cut into the same size strips. Four chunks of carrot. Four potatoes.

In other words, business as usual. Kate had never even heard of OCD when her mother had started her rituals a few years earlier. All she'd known was that Mom had some funny habits, and it made Dad tense. Now, they were all so used to it that Kate sometimes wondered how much her father and younger brother even noticed anymore.

But
she
noticed. And it was getting harder and harder to take.

“There you are, sweetie.” Her mother set a glass of juice beside the plate. Then she grabbed a rag and wiped off the countertop nearby. One circle, two, three, four.

Kate's fist clenched around her fork; she was too tired and stressed to deal with this right now. She wanted to rebel against her mother's cheery facade, let her know she knew what was going on, even if the only way she could think of to do it
was to shove the piles of food into each other to see how her mother would react. She actually lifted the fork to do it.

But her hand froze in midair, the fork poised half an inch above the carrots. She couldn't follow through on the plan. It felt physically impossible.

“Just leave your dishes in the sink please, Katie,” her mother said, completely unaware of Kate's struggle. “See you in the morning.”

“Uh-huh.” Kate didn't take her eyes off the food. Her hand had started shaking.

What was wrong with her? Was she turning into her crazy mother? Was it genetic?

Kate heard her mother open the door to the bedroom across the narrow back hall, releasing the sounds of her father's rhythmic snoring. As soon as the door closed again, Kate threw the fork aside and pushed back from the island, her heart pounding.

Dumping the food in the trash bin, she grabbed a soda and headed upstairs to her room in the bungalow's gabled half-story. So much for thinking, however briefly, that her mother might actually be getting better. She should know better than to get her hopes up.

Her father was asleep, and her brother wasn't much use lately. So Kate pulled out her phone and called the only other person who knew about her mom; the only other person who was probably still up at this hour.

“Kate?” Natalie's familiar voice said into her ear a second later. Sure enough, she sounded wide awake. “What's up?”

“I'm sorry,” Kate blurted out. “I've been meaning to call you all week—I hate it when we fight, you know that.”

“What?” Nat sounded confused for a second. “Oh, wait—is this about you flaking out on that party at the barn the other weekend? Don't worry, I'm over it.” She laughed. “Actually that party was kind of a bust. The Tanners asked this crotchety old neighbor guy to stop by and check on things, and he chased us off before things could barely get started.”

“Oh,” Kate said softly. “That's too bad.”

“Katie?” Nat's voice went sharp and curious. “You okay, babe? You sound weird.”

“Yeah. I mean no. Not really.” Kate took a long, shaky breath. “It's just, you know, Mom.”

“Back on the crazy train, huh?” Though Natalie's words were snarky, her tone was sympathetic. “Sorry. That really sucks. You want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Kate said, sinking down on the edge of her bed and kicking off her paddock boots. “I mean, there's not much to say.”

“Okay. But listen, talking horses always cheers you up, right? Just wait until you hear about the newest horse at Happy Acres. Thoroughbred. Only off the track a few weeks. And guess who's in charge of his training?”

“You?” Kate asked. She tried to sound cheerful, though secretly she was wincing. Nat was a decent rider, all things considered, athletic and pretty much fearless. But she had a temper and a touchy ego. A fresh ex-racehorse could be a disaster if things didn't go perfectly.

But Kate wasn't about to say so. Natalie didn't take criticism too well at the best of times. Especially riding criticism, and especially from Kate.

“Yeah, Mrs. Tanner told me I can make him my special project for the summer.” Natalie sounded pleased with herself. “I'm even taking him in his first ever show in a couple of weeks.”

“Show?” Kate echoed, leaning back against her pillow.

“Uh-huh. Just the summer schooling show at the barn, but still. Should be an adventure.” Nat chuckled. “Hey, why don't you come watch? You haven't been back to one of our shows in ages.”

“Oh.” Kate bit her lip, hoping she wasn't about to piss Nat off again just when they'd finally made up. “Um, when is it?”

“Saturday after next.”

Kate realized that was a nonshowing weekend for Pelham Lane. Still, she hesitated for a second, not sure what to say. Saturday was always a busy day at the barn, and Jamie counted on her being around to help out.

But maybe she could swing it somehow. It might be worth juggling her schedule just this once, if it meant getting her friendship with Natalie back on track.

“That might work,” she said. “I'll try to be there.”

Perfect
. If Tommi had to use only one word to describe the evening, that would be it. Perfect. She couldn't think of a single thing that could be better, a single place she'd rather be right now.

She took a sip of her beer and glanced around. It was Monday evening, and the house party had moved to the pristine private beach behind Alex's house. Alex and the other guys had lit a bonfire, which crackled away and cast a warm orange glow over the pale sand. The last rays of the setting sun had disappeared a while ago, though Tommi wasn't sure what time it was—she'd forgotten to put her watch back on after taking a dip in the pool earlier. She also hadn't bothered to change out of her swimsuit—none of them had—though she'd shrugged on a loose linen shirt as a cover-up against the cool evening breeze coming off the ocean.

Stretching her bare legs out in the teak chair she'd dragged down from the pool deck, Tommi dug her toes into the sand
and smiled as she watched Alex rummaging around in the cooler at the end of the weathered wooden walkway leading down over the dunes from his massive shingle-style house. The two of them had spent the long car ride across Long Island talking about everything and anything. School. Music. Friends. Family. Horses. Life in general.

“So.” Courtney leaned over from her chair nearby. “You and Alex, huh?”

Tommi shrugged, not bothering to be coy. “We'll see. He's cool.”

“Definitely.” Court took a chug of her beer. “The first time I saw him, I told Parker he'd better watch out. With something that hot around, I might decide to trade up if he gets on my nerves too much.”

Tommi laughed. Before she could answer, Alex was back, clutching two dripping beers in one hand.

“Looks like we're out of light,” he said. “Regular okay?”

“Sure.” Tommi took the beer, even though she hadn't finished her first yet.

Just then they all heard a loud whoop. There was a flurry of movement on the ocean side of the fire. Tommi squinted, but couldn't tell what was going on beyond the glare of the flames.

But Court stood up for a better look. “Oh, man,” she said, tugging at the top of her bandeau swimsuit. “Looks like Duck-face decided to go skinny-dipping.”

Within moments almost everyone was gathered at the surf line, watching and cheering as Duckface frolicked in the waves. Tommi stood and stretched, not really in the mood. It wasn't as if she'd never seen Duckface naked before. The boy had been pulling the same stunt for as long as she'd known him.

Luckily Alex seemed to be on the same wavelength. “Want to go for a walk?” he asked quietly.

Soon the two of them were strolling down the beach with the waves lapping at their feet. The sounds of the party faded behind them as they passed one beachfront estate after another. Most of the houses had lights on, but there was nobody else out on the beach, making it feel almost as if Tommi and Alex were the only two people in the world.

“What a gorgeous night,” Tommi said, breathing in the sweet-sour scents of sand and sea. “Almost makes me want to ditch the city and move out here.”

“You totally should.” Alex leaned close enough to bump her shoulder with his as they walked. “Anyway, I'm glad you decided to come out, even if it's just for a couple of days.”

“Me too.” Tommi meant it. Still, his words had reminded her of what she could—should?—be doing instead, and she couldn't help wondering how things were going at the showgrounds. What had Jamie really thought when she'd told him she wasn't turning up until Thursday this time? Would Legs get antsy cooped up in a show stall without her there to hand walk and ride him to keep his restless mind occupied?

“Hey.” Alex reached over and caught her hand, turning her to face him. “You okay? You, like, went a million miles away all of a sudden.”

“Sorry.” Tommi smiled at him, feeling a little sheepish. “I really am glad I came. Thanks for inviting me, this is great. I'm just maybe feeling a little guilty about ditching the first part of my show.”

He squeezed her hand, his palm warm in hers and scratchy with sand. “I know you're totally serious about riding and
everything. But I guess I don't get it. There'll be another show soon, right? Is it really that big a deal to miss a couple of days of this one?”

“No. I mean, yes. Kind of.” Tommi hesitated, not sure how honestly she wanted to answer. She'd already told him about Legs, including the part about her father putting up some of the money. But she hadn't filled him in on all the details of their deal.

That was no accident. Most of her crowd wasn't even thinking much about college yet, let alone the rest of their lives. Would Alex think she was weird for being so focused on this deal with her dad?

If he did, maybe it was time to find out. Otherwise what was the point of taking things any further?

“Yeah, I don't think I mentioned it earlier, but I'm actually on kind of a tight schedule with Legs,” she said. “See, I'm thinking maybe I want to go pro after I age out of juniors—do horses for a living. My dad's not sure that's such a hot idea. So we made a deal. If I can sell Legs for a profit by the end of the fall shows, he'll think about letting me make a go of it instead of, like, majoring in something boring at Georgetown.”

She shot Alex a sidelong glance, trying to gauge his reaction in the milky-dim moonlight. “That's cool,” he said, looking thoughtful. “And trust me, I totally understand what you're talking about. My folks want me to go into law or finance or something dull and safe like that.”

“And you're not into it?” Tommi guessed.

“No way. My thing's music, you know that already. I want to be, like, a producer or a promoter. Maybe manage a club. Something like that.”

“Yeah, that definitely seems more up your alley,” Tommi said. They'd spent part of the drive out here listening to his iPod and talking about favorite music, and Tommi had been impressed by his depth of knowledge of bands old and new, popular and obscure.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Kind of sucks when your family doesn't believe in the dream though, huh?”