Chapter XVII – Winning Meet
Joan canvassed her shedrow for a good long while on the morning Cailen left. A week away from her horses, an entire enchanted week of being out of touch with their daily small crises—a hoof drying out, a tendon filling up, snot in a nose, loose stools, hard stools—had her feeling a little out of the loop, so she’d come in super early to reconnect with each horse before embarking on her first morning back in the action.
Half an hour earlier, she and Cailen had kissed goodbye at the curbstone in front of the house. Now Joan was ready to train horses. Her right rear jeans pocket was the new home of the cell phone Cailen had given her, and she pulled it out to reassure herself it was still on, keys locked to prevent inadvertent engagement, and that it was ready to receive Cailen’s call, which was expected sometime between nine and ten, as the drive to Chicago took roughly five hours, plus the time it took to get to the house in Arlington Heights. Joan’s phone check revealed no change in status. If Cailen needed to get through, she could.
An increasingly familiar-sounding engine neared and cut off just outside the parking area then glided silently into its spot. Brie and Hannah climbed up and out of the low-slung car. Hannah peeled off toward her stalls, hips and arms swinging freely, as Brie cut left to join Joan.
Brie stopped a few yards short of Joan and planted her hands on her hips. “How do you do that?”
Joan’s eyes quit the gratifying sight of her shedrow to flash a confident smile at Brie. “Do what?”
“Make everything seem so much more under control just by standing there?” Brie led their way to the coffee pot. “I mean, Car and I had it, we really did. No problem. Everything went great while you were gone. But now that you’re back…forget it, it’s hard to explain.”
“Just habit, Brie, merely what you’re accustomed to. The horses look wonderful, and the few changes Car had to make to our long-term schedule were right on the money, perfect decisions. You guys did great.” Joan’s eyes did a there and back in the direction of Hannah’s section of shedrow. “Do you need to change clothes?”
“No, I showered and dressed at the apartment before we left.”
“In that case, would you mind getting our coffee ready?” Joan thrust her empty cup at Brie. “I’d like a moment with Hannah. All four of her horses are dappled out to the max, really quite a stunning improvement in only a week.”
When Brie was feeling proud of something she loved, Jade for instance, her chest and stomach jutted outward and upward ever so slightly and her dimples all but disappeared. It interested Joan to see this transformation on Hannah’s behalf.
“She has them glowing for sure, but wait until you see how they act with her already. Hannah’s really something, Joan.”
“So it seems. I’ll be right back. Let me go tell her how much I appreciate her work.” Playfully, she added, “I certainly hope you haven’t forgotten how I take my coffee.”
Thunder was one who always went in the first set, so Hannah was busy knocking the night’s dust off him. She had him facing the front of the stall and was brushing his tail as he munched alfalfa from a bulging hay net. Thunder wore his halter, but wasn’t secured to anything. He acknowledged Joan’s pat on his neck by making eye contact without withdrawing his nose from deep in the sweet, leafy hay.
“Hannah, I can’t say how impressive it is that you’ve won such trust from this colt after so few days working with him.”
Hannah suspended her brush and ran a hand along Thunder’s body as she walked toward the door. “Thank you. He’s such a great boy,” she said, scratching the side of his unconcerned face. “Just needed some extra interest taken in him, that’s all.”
Joan gave herself a couple of seconds to study Hannah, the woman. “You’ve worked your tail off on all four of them and it shows.”
“That’s my job. I wasn’t bullshitting you during my interview. I totally love being a groom. It’s selfish, really, not a bit of work ethic involved. I love having my hands on them, smelling them, listening to them eat. That’s a biggie, the rhythmic crunching of hungry, healthy horses eating oats and rustling through their hay is at least as soothing as the sound of the ocean, I think. And …” Hannah fluffed her short gold hair. “From what Brie says, I don’t have to sell you on all this. Preaching to the choir, aren’t I?”
“Even so, it’s good to hear someone else voice it. We’re lucky people, Hannah, to have found and recognize what we want in life.” Joan thumped Thunder’s sturdy neck once more. “Brie will have my hide if I let my coffee get cold. I’ll let you get back to work. One thing, though. Thunder is one of those stallions who gets on the muscle with women during our, uh, when the moon catches up with us. So you might want to revert to the practice of tying him to the wall for grooming on those days, or he’ll likely bite. You know how his kind can be.”
“Yeah, thanks for the warning. I’ll do that.”
Joan laughed. “Of course, that means there’s the drawback that your cycle becomes common knowledge around the barn.”
As Joan started for the office she barely caught Hannah’s grimly delivered low reply of, “Huh, as if it isn’t obvious enough to anybody within striking or spitting distance anyway.”
Joan made a mental note to avoid Hannah’s shedrow whenever Thunder was tied to the wall, and then checked her cell phone again on the way to the office. All systems were still go.
Stretching with satisfaction before sitting down to her coffee, Joan took in a long, deep breath and beamed smugly at Brie. “The apartment, eh?”
“So?” Brie blinked umbrage.
“Hey, don’t get defensive with me. I’m glad, it’s nice, I mean Hannah really does seem to be something else.” Joan tested her coffee. “Aw, you did remember. Still coming over tonight to play on the computer? If there’s something more…pressing…with Hannah, I understand.”
Brie, ever comfortable and serenely secure, actually fidgeted. “Look, we aren’t sleeping together. Nothing physical, okay? Nada.”
In a display of non-aggression, Joan put up her hands. “Whoa back there, girl. Fine with me.” But she could not resist adding, “Whose idea is that? The nada part?”
“Mine.”
“Yours?” Hard to believe, knowing Brie.
“What’s wrong with that? Can’t I enjoy having a friend? You and I are friends and I think it works out pretty great.” Brie shook her head. “Except for times like this.”
“It works out very great.” But we don’t spend every free minute together and you aren’t nervous as a waxed-over mare whose water’s about to break at the mention of my name.
“Okay then, just so you know. And yes, I’m still coming over. That computer’s a blast. Did you see all the extra software Cailen put on it?”
“Mmm hmm, she’s brilliant with that technical stuff, isn’t she?” Joan’s hand reflexively went to the phone in her pocket. “Cailen should be calling in a few hours to say she got there safely.”
Brie said, “Good, let me know when she does. Think we better get out there and get to work?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
The return of Joan’s energy to the barn stirred a ripple of fresh incentive through everyone, even the horses. Grooms moved more sharply and hotwalkers paid crisper attention to picking up hot horses the second they got back from the track. Jokes flew between the exercise riders as they sat imperiously on their mounts turning left in the shedrow. Car and Brie had done a clean job of running things, but with Joan back, the feeling of greater sureness and trust was palpable.
Anytime Joan and Car caucused about a horse, or just spoke in low tones, heads inclined toward one another, within view of the shedrow, their sight lines fell into a tightly synchronized routine, eyes flitting in unison first from a passing horse’s right front foot, say, to the carriage of another’s head, to a twitch on another’s withers. When it came to the horses, they were a team of mystic quality.
Deep within their consultive cocoon as they hustled in behind the returning fourth set, Joan and Car appeared wholly reconnected. She tapped his shoulder as they separated, he heading to the far side to tell Nesto not to grease Foxy Friend’s hooves before the farrier arrived and she rushing to tell Brie that Cailen had phoned.
“She’s there, safe and sound. I just spoke with her.”
Brie sidestepped an attempted nip from Singer as a hotwalker led him by. “Anything else? Is the scorpion there?”
“Not a sign of her. It doesn’t look as if Lara’s been there since Cailen left.”
*****
That evening a gust of cold wind fairly punted Brie past the massive front door the instant Joan cracked it open.
Breathing hard, she said, “Tomorrow morning will be a doozy.”
“Doozy? Where’d you pick that up?”
“Hannah, probably.” Brie shut her eyes and leaned her back against the foyer wall, gratefully inhaling the warm aroma of simmering vegetables and hot apples. “Have I ever known this house to be without the smell of wonderful food? I don’t think so.”
“I’m glad. Where’s the laptop?”
Brie’s eyes snapped open. Pulling the case from beneath her parka, she said with a degree of gravity, “The manual says don’t expose it to extreme temperatures.”
After dinner but before pie, they sat side by side on the couch to explore the games Cailen had downloaded.
Brie conducted the tour. “She put a million of them on here.” A few mouse clicks and a pool game began to load. “We could play pool.”
“Nah. Too mundane.”
“Okay, then.” Click, click. “Here’s one that’s so very Cailen.” Brie rolled her eyes and launched When Wildlife Goes Redneck. “See? The woodland animals drink beer and drive trucks and hunt humans. Is that something Cailen would appreciate, or what? Let’s not play it first, though. You’ll die when you see this next one.” Brie double-clicked on a triangular purple icon.
Joan threw her head back and laughed. “I wondered how long it would take you to discover that one.”
As a dance mix of Leather and Lace played behind the tumbling entry onto the screen of lavender letters that settled to form the game’s title, Brie said, “This will crack you up even more. I found it right away, but not because I had any idea it was a simulated leather bar. When I saw the title, I thought Cailen must have remembered how much I like roller coasters. I thought she had gotten me an amusement park game. I mean, Topsy Turvy, doesn’t that sound more like roller coasters than top and bottom or butch and femme or whatever?”
Joan was holding her sides, laughing way too hard. “Stop talking. My God, there’s a stitch under my ribcage and it feels like all those mashed potatoes I ate are clumping around it.”
Brie was brutal. “Of course, you’d be the one to ask about all those labels, wouldn’t you?”
Joan leaned back against the couch arm and moaned as she jabbed at Brie with sock feet. “Shut up for just a minute. I’m in pain.”
“Sure, I’ll just assign my character’s persona while you compose yourself.” Brie studiously tapped some keys then clicked the mouse here and there. She tapped a couple of more keys before glancing over at Joan. “Better?”
“I might live.”
“Good.” Brie consulted the screen again. “Would you spell Kenna with one “n” or two?”
Joan delivered a sharp kick to the side of her butt. “Hey, that hurt. Oh, sorry Joan, maybe Kenna, two n’s I guess, was the name you wanted to use.”
“Brisada, that whole adventure was a string of complete misunderstandings and you know it.”
“Yeah, whatever. Here, your turn to create your character.”
Joan carefully settled the keyboard on her lap and Brie watched her build a profile.
“Bottom? You’re going to be a bottom?”
Joan was fully attending her choices. “Cailen warned me to start out with that. Beginners apparently never win if they try to start out being a top.”
“Then let me change mine before we start.”
“No way, hotshot, if you thought you could start out as a top, you’ll just have to live with the consequences. Your character’s already set.”
“But we haven’t entered the bar yet. Cailen warned you. It’s cheating if you don’t let me change mine.”
Joan impatiently clicked her final selection, no blindfold, and passed the keyboard to Brie.
“No blindfold? Did Cailen give you a tip about that? Because if she did, I’m changing mine, too.”
Joan sat with arms folded. “She only advised me on the dominant/submissive choice. I’ve got sense enough to pick no blindfold on my own. You seriously picked yes blindfold?”
“Maybe. But now that Kenna is switching to a bottom, I might go with no blindfold.” Brie made her adjustments. “Yep. No blindfold. By the way, when you and Cailen talked about this game did you tell her about Kenna?”
“I don’t recall the name coming up, no. But I’m sure the story will come out someday, and I’m also sure Cailen will be fully as fascinated by it as you still seem to be.”
“How can you be so sure it’ll come up?”
Joan’s eyes glittered, picturing Cailen’s teasing expression. “Because twice now she has emerged from the bedroom wearing T-shirts I keep in the same drawer where I put those restraint things Kenna left behind. Each time, she’s also worn this smug grin and hummed some cutesy tune, taunting me, you know? Just daring me to not explain. So I pretend nothing’s up. Now it’s a contest to see who’ll mention it first.” Joan took the controls and allowed her character, Marie, to enter the bar and purchase a beer in a frosted glass.”
“Marie? You’re a bottom named Marie? Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”
“Who are they, the threesome at the corner table?”
“Blasphemer.”
“In hell with the sinners. Anyway, the whole time Cailen was telling me about this game, she had that same smirk on her face. I know she was ready to fly apart wanting to ask me about the toys in the T-shirt drawer. She’ll break someday, don’t worry.”
“You two deserve each other.”
“Thanks.”
Brie squealed. “Somebody just bought me a drink! Can you believe it? Joan, it’s that incredibly fit looking woman.” Brie put the cursor over the tall blonde who was slowly approaching Kenna from the bar. “She’s gorgeous. No blindfold, definitely no blindfold! Do you love this game, or what?”
*****
It snowed and froze hard in the overnight hours, creating a Thursday morning pleasant to look at, but not much good for training horses. Joan pulled all her trackers from the schedule except four and on the board beneath their names she’d written large EVERYBODY ELSE WALKS. It would seem like a Sunday.
Hannah had somehow managed enough traction in that toy car to make it to work safely.
“Hannah, you’re as dependable as the mail, first one here even on roads like these.” Joan walked alongside her the short distance to her stalls.
“Roads were no trouble. Did you guys have a good time last night?”
“Brie and me? Sure. Next time you’ll both have to come.”
Hannah shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t want to infringe on the two of you, though. Brie said you were going to explore that new laptop.”
Joan was curious about the infringe remark, but didn’t probe right away. “There wasn’t much exploration beyond one of the games Cailen put on the thing. We got started playing Topsy Turvy and didn’t quit until I made Brie go home around nine-thirty. She’s supposed to be relaxing during this short school break and I want her to save her energy for that paper due at the end of it.”
With obvious appreciation, Hannah paused after standing back up from removing Bolero Blouse’s bandages. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do, let her rest up for a few days before starting that monster paper. A week might sound like a long time, but it isn’t, not really.” She brushed loose straw from her knees and brought Bolero’s leg pads closer to Joan, examining them and deciding they were a little too dingy to re-use before laundering. “Topsy Turvy, eh?” Hannah winked and Joan caught a glimpse of what was undoing Brie. “Anybody get lucky?”
“As a matter of fact, Brie’s little sim slut certainly had a good time.”
“How about yours?”
“Mine may join a convent. So, you’ve played it? Very much?”
Hannah intentionally sounded boastful. “On my PC, in the leather bars in four major cities, I’m the top top. Which city were you guys in?”
“Atlanta.”
“Atlanta. Tough. And Brie got decent attention? First time playing, right? That’s not easy.”
Joan glanced in the direction of Brie’s room. Still no movement down there. “So, Hannah, give me a quick tip or two that might help next time.”
“First thing, and this is important, what was Brie’s statement of current mood? You know what I mean, that sentence or two you’re supposed to enter as part of your profile?”
“Yes, I remember. Brie’s was something like, ‘Rescue me, I’m wet. I’m really, really wet.’” Joan focused thoughtfully on a piece of straw that had gotten tracked into the otherwise speckless shedrow. “There might have even been another ‘really’ in there, she was extremely enthusiastic.”
Flicking a brief smile toward Brie’s still-closed door, Hannah tried to remain analytical. “And yours?”
“Mine expressed the hope that the bar’s pool tables would be of good quality, which pales in comparison to Brie’s, but the instructions explicitly said others in the bar would not be privy to the statement. So that didn’t affect anything, did it?”
“Joan, you have to remember, the computer still has access to those pieces of information and it uses them to create your, you know, aura, or attitude or whatever. See what I mean?”
Looking past Hannah’s shoulder, Joan spotted Brie. “Here comes Ms. Popularity now.” The sight of Brie incapacitated by heavy clothing always tickled Joan. “Morning, Frosty.”
“Morning.”
“Joan was just telling me what a hit you were last night in Atlanta.”
Brie’s voice was still rough from sleep. “Not me, Kenna.”
“Congratulations to Kenna, then. You look like you need your coffee. Why don’t you guys go have the morning meeting? Since none of mine are trackers, I’m going to get started on stalls and might walk Thunder myself to free up a hotwalker.”
Brie was already piloting her many-layered self toward the office. “Great idea. See you in a while.”
Hannah called after her, “Oh, and I’ve packaged up your morning vitamins and supplements. They’ll be in your room by the time you come back outside. Be sure to take them before it gets much later.”
“I will.”
Joan fixed the coffees with exaggerated gentility and delicately placed a cup in front of Brie before sitting down with her own, all in meticulous, pregnant silence.
Before they had a chance to speak, someone’s courteous tap on the door drew a, “Come in,” from Joan.
It was Sassy, clad tip to toe in a shockingly suitable outfit. No spike heels for aerating the shedrow, no painted-on pants, no why-bother-to-even-cover-the-boobs blouse, no lacquered hair, and no I-could-buy-and-sell-you-a-hundred-times jewelry. While not exactly workaday, her appearance had by some miracle been downplayed to that of a carbon-based life form.
Her tone eerily absent the slightest trace of sarcasm, Sassy said, “Excuse me, Brie, I didn’t realize you were in here too. That sweet young woman, Hannah, directed me this way when I asked for Joan.”
“No problem.” Brie was waiting for the punch line.
Joan unfolded an extra chair. “Sit down, Sassy. Coffee?”
Sassy extended a hand, palm down. “No, thank you, to either. I just came by to let you know I’m in town a day early for Singer’s race.” She nodded politely to Brie. “Congratulations, by the way, on Jade’s win.” There was an awkward moment before she added, “Well, that’s all. I’ll look forward to seeing you both tomorrow.” Sassy smiled kind of genuinely and respectfully closed the door behind her as she left.
Joan and Brie sat motionless, briefly incapacitated.
“I’m confused.” Joan swiped a hand through her hair.
“Me too. How should we interpret that? Did it even really happen?”
Joan took a bracing slug of coffee. “It happened all right. Maybe Mag was right. When Cailen and I were in Camden, she was worried Sassy might be heading for some kind of breakdown. This could be the aftermath."
“Doubt it. It was a good performance, but I’m suspicious of the whole act.”
Joan put her feet up. “Whatever the case, a Sassy visit can certainly make you grateful for your mental health.”
“Sure can.”
Joan saw her chance and launched into oratory. “And I always say there’s no better safeguard for one’s health than proper nutrition. A good vitamin and supplement regimen is absolutely essential in maintaining—”
Since there were no horses circling yet, Brie slammed the door on her way out.
1 comments:
A good read! :)
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