Chapter XXI – Holiday Card
Christmas had not been far ahead when Jade left. It was traditional for all the Caulder horses to walk on Christmas morning and Joan tried her best to have the entire staff out of there before ten, with orders to stay gone until the following morning. Another tradition was for her and Brie to work off Christmas dinner by coming back and doing an abbreviated afternoon feed, just the two of them, all thirty horses. Afterward, they would sequester themselves at Joan's house with leftovers, a bottle of hundred-proof Wild Turkey and enough eggnog to make it slide down easy. Brie always stayed overnight in the guest bedroom.
Joan was cleaning her fifth stall of the morning, the one of Charles' situated next to Hannah's end stall and they were speaking through the wall. "Are you sure you can't get away from your parents' celebration for at least a short while, Hannah? There's plenty of food, believe me." Once again, Hannah had bowed aside to avoid interfering with Joan and Brie's customs.
"Brie and I have all the rest of our Christmases to spend together. You two enjoy each other." She was careful not to mention that thereafter Joan and Cailen would be initiating new holiday customs of their own. That would have pointed up Cailen's current absence.
Joan was getting used to both Hannah's confidence that she and Brie would be together forever and her cheerful ready willingness to say so. "Well then, if you won't drop by later, be sure to meet me in the office before you leave so I can give you your gift."
"Yours is in the car." Hannah came over to poke her head in Joan's stall. "It might be overstepping. If you don't like it will you please say so?"
"I've felt the same way about yours, that it might be overstepping. You say so too, if it is."
The number of horses being walked was thinning out and as grooms finished getting done up, most of them found Joan to wish her a happy holiday and thank her again for the generous bonus. Soon, the shedrow was quiet and down to the horses, Brie, Hannah and Joan. Hannah made one last rundown of the water, hay, halter, and door checklist for each of her horses. Satisfied that all were secure, comfortable, and happy, she jogged over to her car for Joan's gift.
A gold envelope, caught around its middle with thin red ribbon, sat in front of Joan there at her desk. Hannah backed into the office carrying a box wrapped in Sunday funnies with a huge shiny blue bow stuck on top. Before the door shut all the way, Brie called out to hold it open for a second as she lugged through with the big green, red, blue and silver box, tied with a bow made of hay twine, that held Joan's refurbished tack box. Each of them suddenly seized up with powerful doubts about their gifts, which brought escalated excitement and something akin to nervous chatter from all three.
Hannah broke the spell. "Like I said, Joan, you might have no interest whatsoever in this. But I was just thinking about how much energy it takes to be you every day."
"Well, you're probably going to think I've got a lot of nerve—wait, if I say anything else, you won't even need to unwrap it."
Brie tapped the big package. "It looks like we skimped on the wrapping, but you'll see the reason for the twine in a minute. Won't she, Hannah?"
Then everybody's wheels jammed up again for a few seconds.
Joan's hand shot the envelope forward. "You first, Hannah."
With obvious intent to save it, Hannah opened the envelope. Her face went so blank, those soft blue eyes giving nothing away, Joan was left dangling for the longest moment. The first active response was Hannah's question to Brie. "Did you know about this?"
She could tell Hannah was moved. "Joan would give me no clues. Hurry, what is it?"
"Incredible. Spanish lessons. Unbelievable, Joan, I don't know what to say."
"Pretty soon you will, en Español. So will I. If it's not too presumptuous, we can go to class together. I'm enrolled too."
"That's about the only thing that could have made this better. Thank you, I mean it."
Brie's hands went to her hips. "You are taking away the one strategic advantage Cailen and I have over you? Not fair."
"We're not going for fair, are we Joan?"
"What would be the point?"
Brie nudged the hay twine box. "This one next, Joan."
There was a card shoved beneath the knotted twine bow, so Joan opened that first and read aloud. "To Joan. Love, Hannah and Brie."
Hannah's eyes darted to Brie's. They'd agreed to make this gift from Brie alone, or at least Hannah thought they had. Brie did a so-sue-me shrug.
Joan performed the obligatory weight-checking rattle of the box, followed by the usual mystified expression, before unwrapping it with purpose. At first she truly forgot or, rather, failed to maintain awareness that anyone else was in the room. The incongruity of seeing it in this setting, the sheer familiarity of the old wooden case and a thousand memories it had been part of, whacked a catch into her breath. By its handle, which she had gripped over miles and miles of crossing her pastures seeking out her horses for grooming, she lifted the faithfully mended relic. She had to stare at it a few seconds before Brie and Hannah re-materialized.
"You guys, my groom box." Her hands roamed reverently across the surface as she lapsed into recollection of days gone by. "I'm sorry, am I acting like someone being interviewed following a natural disaster or winning the lottery, or something? Because that's how taken aback I am."
"That tells us nothing. Do you like it?"
"You could have no idea how much. Really, no idea. Thank you both, with all my heart. I can’t wait for Cailen to see it. Did she know about this?"
They shook their heads, smiling big time over their coup.
"Okay, okay, I'm getting hungry. We can't spend the whole day on one present." Brie avoided sentimentality like it was quicksand.
Hannah waved her hand graciously toward the funny papers box. "Ms. Caulder."
"Another one for me? Too much, Hannah, really." This one was filled with an assortment of vitamin bottles and supplement containers. "Aw, you want to keep me around for a good long time, don't you?"
"Like I said, you might not care to take up a deliberate regimen like this."
"Oh, but I do. Just never had time to shop for these and be faithful about taking them, that's all." Joan was removing items for individual inspection. "Fully digestible calcium, yes, water soluble vitamin E, yes, slow release iron, yes, glucosamine with chondroitin, yes. What's black cohosh for?"
"Menstrual difficulties."
Joan pitched that bottle to Hannah. "For all our sakes, you double up."
"Hey, no fair."
In one voice, Brie and Joan sing-songed, "We're not going for fair."
"Funny. Ha ha. Read the card, Joan."
Joan dug around under the packing materials, found it, read it, and fixed Brie with a cocky look while addressing Hannah. "You'll be packaging mine every day, just like you do Brie's? Excellent."
Joan was the last one to leave, right after Brie and Hannah had set out for home to shower and change. She was removing her key ring from its hook when the sound of a powerful diesel engine grew very loud before shutting down right outside. The truck was awesome, but it was nothing compared with the eight-horse trailer attached to it, which was maroon with white trim, and had a familiar C tastefully gracing each side. ‘Caulder Stables’ was emblazoned over the front. A big man with a haircut that made his head look blocky and huge shoulders that swallowed his neck was already unhitching the trailer in the time it had taken Joan to come from the office. A Rolls Royce pulled up beside the truck, with Sassy exiting it before her chauffeur could set the brake and get around to her door.
Sassy stood facing the trailer, rapturously appreciating its appearance. She whirled around at the sound of Joan’s surprised, “What on Earth!”
“I was so concerned the color wouldn’t exactly match your awnings and truck, but they do, don’t you think, Joan? They go perfectly, don’t they?” Sassy’s attention returned to the long-awaited sight of the trailer sitting next to Joan’s truck, just outside Joan’s barn, and she took in a long breath of satisfaction. She whispered, “It’s as if it has been here all along.”
Sassy’s Rolls had moved off to a discreet distance and the diesel was gone.
Painfully aware that this must be Sassy’s Christmas gift to her, and needing some time to come up with how she could diplomatically refuse it, Joan said, “Merry Christmas, Sassy.”
Real tears pooled in Sassy’s eyes. “Oh! Merry Christmas, Joan.” Almost taking Joan’s hand but stopping short, as if sticking to some resolve, Sassy took a few enthusiastic steps toward the trailer. “Please come look inside.” When Joan didn’t follow, Sassy’s next, “Please,” was so artless Joan didn’t have the heart not to join her.
The rig was extraordinary. Sassy explained the amenities in great detail, pulling down the hideaway cots and pullout awning, which also bore the Caulder colors, and running down all the safety features for the horses. The shock absorbent suspension was beyond her, but she dug out the owner’s manual from her enormous purse, assuring Joan the whole thing was described fully in it, on page forty-eight. And while she had her purse open, she handed over the title, license, and insurance papers, all taken care of.
Without giving pause for Joan to speak, she pulled out a bundle of envelopes. “And these. Joan, how many employees are on the payroll here these days?”
What a question to have pop up in the midst of all the trailer hoopla. Joan unconsciously rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen up. “Payroll. I believe there are eighteen at the moment.”
Sassy thrust the entire stack of envelopes at her. “Good. There are twenty cash bonuses here, so everyone should be covered. I think Brie should have—” She surveyed the empty parking area and tranquil shedrow, seeming to notice them for the first time. “Has everyone gone already?”
Joan nodded. “We try to wrap it up early on Christmas morning.”
“I guess one more day won’t make much difference. Please give one of those to each employee and I think the two extra should go to Brie, to help with tuition. She is the best groom around, you’ve said it many times.”
Joan fanned the bonuses. “This is very nice of you, Sassy. I’ll be happy to give them out tomorrow. But we need to discuss the trailer.” They were standing inside it, and Joan made a broad motion.
Sassy looked desperate. “Please don’t refuse it, please.”
“But it’s extravagant, too much.”
“Allow me to make my case before you decide. When you brought that horse to Camden last month you had to borrow the veterinarian’s trailer. Joan, I don’t want you to do without anything you need, anything. The thought of it distracts me no end. A woman, a trainer like you should have everything first class.”
Joan nodded. “True, I did borrow Anna’s trailer to ship Penny, but that was an isolated instance. How often do I trailer horses myself? Almost never.”
Folding her hands as if about to pray, but indulging in a secretive smile, Sassy spilled what she considered the big beans. “That may be about to change. Joan, this fall Rainier Farms purchased the most well-bred horse in its history. Corporate Governance. I believe Mag showed him to you when you were in Camden?”
“He’s a very fine specimen, that’s for sure.”
Sassy shivered. “May we finish discussing this in your office?”
“Sure, sorry, I forgot about the cold. Of course, come on.”
There’d been a time when Joan abhorred being alone with Sassy, but for weeks her come-on attitude had been absent in favor of a professional, albeit friendly, owner-trainer demeanor that Joan found infinitely more tolerable.
When they were seated with the desk between them, Sassy took up where they’d quit. “Corporate Governance is more than a fine specimen. Joan, I’ve always dreamed of you running a horse in the Kentucky Derby. He might be the one. Even Mag doesn’t dispute it. I want to send him to you as soon as you think he’s ready, or better yet, you come to Camden and pick him up personally. And I want you to have the means to move him or any of the other horses back and forth from track to farm, whenever you see fit. To do that, with a horse that might one day win the Derby, I think you should have the best transportation possible. You should have the best, Joan.”
Joan furtively checked the clock. Good God, Brie’s going to get there and find me not home yet. “Sassy, I don’t know where to start with all the reasons why I cannot keep that trailer.”
“Good, then don’t. Just accept it.” Sassy dropped her smile and said, looking down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I’m trying to start all over Joan. I want you to like me, as a friend. Mag says for that to happen you have to respect me first. I’ve been working very hard on being someone you can respect.”
“You can’t buy friends, Sassy. We can be friends without the trailer.”
Sassy stood and paced. “I was afraid you’d think it was a bribe. It isn’t. Look, the trailer is here, and I will admit I asked, I can’t remember his name right now, the man who drove it here, anyway I asked him to unhitch and leave right away, because I want you to at least think about keeping it. Will you just think about it? Call Mag, see if she doesn’t think you’ll probably need it now that Corporate Governance is coming along so nicely. He’ll have to ship all over for the races he’ll need before the Derby. If you can find no other grounds for keeping the trailer, we could always consider it a bonus for this past meet. Everybody’s talking about our performance here, you know.”
The quickest way to get out of there and home before Brie arrived was to say yes, so she did. “It’s a conditional acceptance, Sassy, I mean it. I have to think this over. Now, most of Christmas dinner is ready, just needs to be put in the oven for an hour or two. And there’s more than enough food to make Brie and me miserable from overeating, so would you like to come back to the house for dinner?” Brie will kill me dead.
“Thank you very much, but the plane is waiting to take me back. Do you believe twenty people are due at the farm in less than three hours and I’m standing here in Louisville?”
“Somehow, since it’s you, I do believe it.” Joan shook her head at Sassy’s uncertainty over how to take that. She smiled as she ushered them to the door. “Just practicing this concept of us being friends, Sassy. I have a habit of trading barbs with all my friends, take it or leave it.”
Casting one last proud glance over Joan’s trailer before stepping into the Rolls, Sassy looked the picture of peaceful contentment.
*****
Christmas dinner was eaten, chores were done, the fireplace had flickered to idle, and half the eggnog was gone. The time-honored moment for Joan to propose to Brie was upon them.
Joan began with, "Do you believe in polygamy?"
"No. Do you?
Heavy sigh. "No."
"So what do we do now?"
"About me proposing?"
"Yes."
"I'm not sure." Joan got up and held out a hand for Brie's glass. "Finish that last bit and I'll get refills. We need more inspiration to figure things out this year."
"Amen."
Joan's phone, which she'd laid on the table next to her end of the sofa, rang, bringing her flying back from the kitchen. "Hi, angel," she said, breathless.
"Do you mean to tell me there's someone you're calling angel and we don't even know her yet? It's not Brie, because she's there with you, right? Joan?"
"Hi, Mom."
Brie clamped a hand over her mouth and left the room.
"So? Miles, did you know our daughter has someone she's serious enough about to be calling angel?"
"Mom, you'll meet her as soon as can be arranged. She has to be away from Louisville for a while, but as soon as she gets back, we'll be out, I promise."
"What does Brie think? Honey, you know we always hoped you and Brie would end up together."
"So you've told me. Brie and Cailen go way back and Brie's crazy about her. Is that good?"
"The name's Cailen, Miles. I guess it'll have to do for now, honey. We just called to wish you Merry Christmas and make sure you're still coming here for New Year's."
"Merry Christmas to you, too. Yes, I'm still planning to be there. I'll bring the dessert this time. There's a cake I've been meaning to try. Tell Dad it's full of caramel."
"He'll be in his glory. We know you're allergic to phones, so we won't keep you. We love you, Joan."
"I love you too, Mom. And I'm building a slight tolerance to these things, so go ahead and put Dad on."
"Miles, she wants to speak to her daddy."
"Hello, dear. Hope we haven't abused the fact that you had to give us your number."
"Hi, Dad. No, it's fine. Actually, it's wonderful hearing from you all. Call anytime, I mean it. Tell Mom, too."
"You and Brie must be pretty far into the eggnog. Better wait and see if you want to stick by that statement when the bourbon wears off. Love you, honey, and Merry Christmas. Be sure to give Brie our love."
"Deal. Love you too, and Merry Christmas. See you for New Year's."
Brie brought the drinks in as soon as the connection was closed.
"Deserter." Joan accepted her eggnog and took a discerning sip. "Firm yet strong."
Brie tried hers and nodded. "Stout yet hefty." She nestled back into her spot and defended herself. "It wasn't desertion, I just didn't want to be cracking up where they could hear me. How did they get your number, anyway?"
Joan's dismissive gesture overshot on disinterest. "Now that I have the phone, it's not right to keep the number from them."
He would never have wished her to be unhappy, so the glazed absence that passed over Brie's face was brief. "Jade."
"Yes." Joan squeezed Brie's ankle. "Hey, did I ever tell you how much my parents have always wanted you and me to be girlfriends?"
"No. Really?"
"It's true. Just now, Mom used my news about Cailen to reiterate that they have always thought we'd end up with each other."
"They're so good." Brie studied the fire. "Have you ever wondered why we haven't?"
Joan laughed and consulted the ceiling. "Dozens of times. Actually, I made a pass at you once, when we first knew each other."
"Impossible."'
"Possible."
"When?"
"Back when you were working at the farm. I stopped by the main barn looking for Mag, but she wasn't anywhere around. You were resetting the dressing on a little black colt with a foot abscess. You'd come back to soak it an extra time."
Fully interested, Brie strained to remember. "Oh, yeah, Bungee Chord. He was a good little boy. Mag sent him out with the West Coast string."
"Anyway, I think we had met about three times by then. I hung around for over an hour, trying to work the conversation onto personal topics, but you stayed right on message. Just the horse particulars, ma'am, all business."
Brie did that deep belly chuckle of hers. "You mean that was your idea of making a pass? I swear to God, it's almost a miracle you've ever had a date, let alone been to bed with so many women."
"Hey, watch it."
"I'm serious about this." Her giggles didn't sound all that serious to Joan. "Did they all have ESP or something? Unbelievable. That was your conception of a pass. So sorry to have missed out. If I'd had any idea I'm sure something could have been arranged."
"Oh, yes, one more complication added to the you, Cailen, and me relationship would be handy."
Brie took a good swallow. "Woo, this one's going to knock me on my butt. Speaking of Cailen, is she calling here or are you calling there? And when?"
"We didn't say either way for sure." Joan checked the mantelpiece clock and sighed. "I've been putting it off because I don't want it to be over. Saying goodnight is always so difficult. Put your feet up here, I'll massage them for you."
"Oh, my God, pure indulgence." Brie drained her glass before obliging. "You know I'll be totally gone after this, right? Just leave me on the couch here."
Less than ten minutes of conspiracy between bourbon, lazy fire crackles, and a delicious foot massage did indeed manage to knock Brie on her butt. Joan was giving it a few more minutes on the feet to make sure she was totally under before calling Cailen. But Cailen beat her to it, and this time when the phone rang Joan took an extra second to check caller i.d.
"Hello, angel."
"Howdy."
"Howdy?"
"Yep, howdy."
"Okay, then. I miss you, how's it going up there?"
"I miss you too, no way to express how much. But we could try. Do you know anything about phone sex?"
"Whoa, girl, no Merry Christmas, no how was dinner? Anyway, Brie's right here, asleep at the end of the couch. Now, how did you spend Christmas day?"
"Working. I volunteered to take standby today, since everybody else wanted to make personal plans. Went off duty a couple of hours ago."
"Standby. That means you didn't actually go in, just stayed by the phone or something?"
"Yeah, didn't get one call, could have predicted that. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas."
"How was dinner?"
"It turned out well. We were overstuffed as usual and hated the idea of getting out to do chores, but of course that's always the best cure for too much food."
"Great. Now, I think you're supposed to begin this with a wardrobe question. So, what are you wearing?"
Joan came very close to giggling. She whispered forcefully, "Cailen, I told you Brie is right here."
"Okay, what's she wearing?"
Joan set Brie's feet aside and shot off the couch. From the privacy of the kitchen, she asked, "Cailen, are you drinking?"
"A little eggnog, like you and Brie."
"How little?"
"Very little eggnog, lots of Wild Turkey. That's what you have, right?"
Joan made that sound again. "Right."
"You're giggling just like Brie."
"Yes, I heard that. I must be spending way too much time with her and Hannah."
"With who?"
"Brie and Hannah."
"Oh, right, Hannah. How's Brie doing, about Jade and everything?"
Joan paused to think back over the past weeks' transitions. "Jade's always there, but she's back to herself for the most part, at least on the surface. First thing in the morning is the most difficult part of the day for her, I believe. When the first set goes out his absence is so strongly felt, by all of us. But she's managing to be Brie."
"Always a trooper."
"Yes. How about you? I'm surprised about the bourbon, since you hate the way it tastes."
"I'm fine. Frustrated about no progress on the house."
"But that's going to change after the holidays. The house will sell and you'll be back and I'm never letting you leave again."
"Good. I hope you're right."
"What's the matter, angel, is there something else? People sell houses every day. It's going to happen."
"Hang on a second, I'm starting a pot of coffee." Sounds of running water and a cabinet shutting in the background had Joan taking pains to envision what Cailen's kitchen might look like, the sight of Cailen maneuvering in her very own kitchen.
"Godammit! Sorry, dropped the old grounds on the floor." Joan had never heard temper or profanity from Cailen. Not that she expected her to never exhibit either, but it was odd behavior, especially over something so piffling as spilled coffee grounds.
"There is more to it than simply selling the house, isn't there?"
"A little bit more, just annoying stuff. I'm sure when somebody makes a definite offer, everything’s going to iron out."
"What do you mean, 'when somebody makes an offer?' Of course that's what we're waiting for."
"No, I mean Lara is vowing she'll never sign to sell the house. I was so stupid, Joan. Her name is on the deed. We own it half and half."
"I didn't know she was back."
"For two days last week. I tried to be nice, civil, but she stormed through the door waving the For Sale sign, swearing up and down she'd never sign to sell." Cailen wasn't about to mention that Lara had thrown the sign at her, that one of its dirt-caked prongs had pierced the arm she'd put up to block her face, and had required three stitches plus a tetanus shot. "She thinks she can trap me here by not agreeing to sell."
"Two days. Is she gone now?"
"The next fit came when she discovered that I was staying in one of the extra bedrooms, with a latch on the inside of the door. That brought on a big tantrum and she went somewhere the next night. I haven't heard from her since."
"What a mess. Angel, maybe you should just let Lara have the house."
"I really think when it comes down to it, she's not going to be able to turn down half of the equity. Especially since she hasn't contributed anything to it. She'll be walking away with a good amount of cash, and I just don't see her turning that down." Cailen gratefully sipped her fresh-brewed coffee. "This is why I didn't want to get into this right now. Let's talk about good stuff, it's Christmas."
"Good stuff, let's see. I've made the decision about Hialeah. We're not shipping down there this year."
"Now that you've decided, I'll tell you what a relief that is to hear. Being five hours away is one thing, but I didn't know how we were going to handle living twenty-three hours apart. What made up your mind?"
"The success we've been having is a big part of it. We raced fairly heavily during the Churchill meet, and are shipping to Turfway once a week right now, having good results there, too."
"I know. Pepper's win the other day was pretty impressive. That filly has really moved up."
"Charles was awfully proud of her. Anyway, we've all, horses and people, been going at it hard for a few months now. I truly think the best course is to stay put, allow everybody to rest up, and be fresh for Churchill's spring meet. We've already far surpassed last year's earnings, so Sassy won't be disappointed. Neither should any of the other owners. My gut feeling is that if we keep pushing, we'll eventually hit a wall in the form of burnout or an injury. And there's no excuse for that. I told Brie this afternoon and she's overjoyed to be able to enroll here next semester instead of in Miami."
"I love you."
"And I love you. How's that coffee?'
"Good. Want some?"
"What I wouldn't give to be in a position to accept that offer!"
"Guess what? I just made a decision of my own."
"Tell me."
"To spend New Year's Eve and New Year's Day in Louisville. Somebody else's turn to do holiday standby."
"Are you certain? Please let's not plan this unless we can actually do it. You know, it's breaking our resolution to next see each other when it's for keeps, but that's been feeling more and more like a silly constraint." Joan took a breath. "I have to tone it down, or I'll wake Brie all the way in the other room."
"So it's a date? I get your first kiss of the New Year?"
"The first one, a couple million in between, and the last one. Then we start all over the next year."
"In that case, I'll definitely be there."
Joan put the leftovers in the fridge and turned out the kitchen light. "And speaking of kisses, night before last I had the most sentient dream about us kissing. We were in chest-high water, very warm, clear blue water. Like the ocean, only no waves. There were so many blues—the sky, the water, the horizon. Your eyes matched the water. Everything like crystal, but solid. Anyway, we stood facing each other in the water and the rules, you know how dreams sometimes have an understood, underlying organization?"
“Like you know the room you're in is the one you had when you were little, even though it's allowed to look different in the dream."
"Exactly. So in this one, the rules were that we could kiss, but only underwater. And we were fine with that, smiling and ducking under to kiss as long as possible before coming up for air. Sometimes you needed to come up first and some of the time I did. We got really good at telling when the other one needed to surface. At first we were fine with it, but then having to stop got frustrating." Joan was making her way through the house, securing the fireplace doors, putting a thick beige afghan over Brie, turning out lights in the upstairs hallway and bathroom, on her way to the bedroom. "At the same instant, we each realized that touching underwater was acceptable, so we continued to kiss and surface, but started a whole other level of intimacy below. The colors were so arresting, I can't begin to get across how stunning their effect was. They got all caught up in what we were doing. The more aroused we became, the more vivid the colors got." Joan closed the bedroom door behind her.
Cailen cleared her throat. "How did it end?"
"Let me just say that to the old question of whether I dream in color or black and white, I can go one better and report that in dreams I come in color."
A throaty little moan arrived from the Chicago end.
After lighting a candle on her dresser Joan undid her blouse and ran an open hand between her breasts. She asked, "So, angel, there was a clothing question?"
*****
On New Year’s Eve, Joan was alone at the barn, basking in the promise of a good day's training when Cailen called, less than twelve hours before she should be leaving Chicago. Lara had just phoned to say she'd had a change of heart and would drop by late that night to sign over her right to the house, which would give Cailen leeway to accept the first decent contract that came along. Lara even said she trusted Cailen to turn over her half of the sale price. Of course, Cailen had tried to inveigle meeting on another day, but Lara was inflexible. She would sign on New Year's Eve or not at all. The first call Joan received was not to cancel, but to discuss the possibility of postponing the start of their holiday together.
All through New Year’s Eve night, Lara strung Cailen along and caused so many delays that Cailen decided to forget about the contract and head for Louisville. But that didn’t even work, because her truck broke down two blocks from home - on New Year’s afternoon. Water had somehow gotten into the fuel tank.
It was clear their holiday plans had fallen through, and in the final, giving up phone call about the matter, Joan and Cailen had decided on comparative pain for dealing with their letdown. They were, after all, so lucky to have found each other. Whining about a brief delay not only lacked grace, it was childish, given the magnitude of true disappointment in so many lives.
"So let's buck up, little cowgirl. You sell that there house and git yerself back here as quick as you can, ya hear?"
"God, every accent you do is so terrible."
"Not. How about my British?"
"Please don't do it. Please. It's like a verbal walk across hot coals. All that ah-ah-ah."
"My tipsy Aussie, then. What about that one?"
"It sounds like your tipsy everything else."
"Now all this comes out. And after I've already told everybody we're engaged."
"Engaged? Who've you told that to?"
"Okay, nobody yet. But I was thinking the other day about how partner sounds like we really are cowgirls and I'm always tempted to pronounce it podna, and lover brings nudity and tongues to mind, and girlfriend is so froofy. Anyway, I thought fiancee would be good."
"But it isn't legal for us to marry, yet."
"Precisely. Fiancee makes a statement. Kinda assumes it's all just a matter of time, now don't it little lady?"
"Your John Wayne. It's not any good either."
"You recognized it, didn't you? Couldn't be that bad if you recognized it."
"Only because of the little lady. You always have him say little lady. Otherwise, somebody with flatulence, maybe a flatulent Aussie, would have been my first guess."
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