“Mom!” I holler down the hall. “I’ll be back inside for lunch. I have my phone if you need anything.”
“All right, babe.” Her response is soft. I can’t remember the last time I heard her raise her voice. “Don’t work too hard.”
I feel my back pocket as I step off the porch to make sure I do have my phone, but it’s mostly out of habit. I always have my phone when I’m home. The stables are out behind the house, so I make the short walk over.
Scooby gives me a loud snort as soon as I step inside. “I know, buddy. I slept in a little, I’m sorry.” He’s the best damn horse to ever live, if you ask me, but also the most judgmental. Another snort, this one smaller, as he lifts his lips, giving me a toothy grin that he knows will earn him a treat. I have a couple of snow peas in my pocket, and I’ll just bet the big oaf already knows it.
I step inside his stall, avoiding any mess he made of it since yesterday, and nuzzle my face against his. Scooby’s been my horse since I was ten. His dam is my mom’s horse, Isabella. I would sell off acres before I got rid of him. Scooby indulges my pets for a few minutes before he starts nosing my hip, reminding me to give him his snack. “Fine. Here, chunky,” I tease, grabbing a rope to lead him out to his current favorite pasture alongside Isabella and Moe.
I spend the next several hours mucking stalls, freshening up their water and hay, and cleaning up the rest of the stable. I can’t have cobwebs in the empty stalls if someone actually comes to look at the place for boarding.
* * *
Over a lunchof sandwiches with Mom, I tell her, “I’m thinking about taking in some boarders, what do you think?”
“We’re talking horses, right? This isn’t your way of trying to sneak your boyfriend in to live with us, is it?” She gives me a mischievous glare over her sandwich.
I lean back in my seat. “I suppose I could make a few of them share a room, since we only have three to spare.”
Mom cackles. I love hearing her laugh. She’s still smiling when she says, “You know what you can handle, babe. You’ve been taking care of everything for over two years, so do what you think is right.”
Her confidence in me has made what I’ve had to do over the last few years bearable. After her accident, our entire world shifted. I went from planning my sweet sixteen to scrambling to make sure we didn’t lose the ranch. There were a few dark months, months when I thought we would have to sell, but here we are, two years later. Mom is getting stronger every day, and I no longer have to worry about losing the roof over our heads.
“I’m going to post a few ads at the supply stores, maybe put something up on social media. Do you want to come with me?”
Mom glances down at the table. “Nah, you go on ahead. I’ll clean up these dishes and see what I can make us for dinner.”
I know she doesn’t like that I have to help her get into the truck, but a van just isn’t practical on a ranch, and we can’t afford both yet. Plus, I think letting the people she considered friends see her in her chair is hard for her. Most of them don’t know how to talk to her anymore. It’s like they think her losing the ability to use her legs changed who she is. It did in some ways, but she’s still Lily Lawson, whether she’s on a horse or not.
“Okay, well, I’ll be back in a few hours. I’ll probably put the horses in the barn first. I’m going to go for a ride tonight after dinner. You could always come with me,” I offer.
“No work?” she asks quickly, ignoring my comment. I bought her a special saddle for disabled riders, but I haven’t gotten her to use it yet. I’m thinking about telling her how much it cost, hoping it will guilt her into using it, but I’m not there yet.
“No, they are redoing the kitchen. I have two weeks off.” The lie falls easily off my lips.
“Oh, babe, that’s great. You certainly deserve it.”
“The owner said he might have some side work for me, so I might pick up a few hours here and there,” I tell her while placing my plate in the sink.
“Side work?” Mom actually sounds a little worried. If I wasn’t so convinced she bought my lies long ago, I would think she knew the truth and was worried about me doing something illegal.
“He just knows I rely on the money, it’s not even a guarantee.”
“Well, be smart. I know you are, but it’s my job to remind you.”
“And I appreciate it. I’ll see you in a bit. Call me if you need anything.” I feel like I’m always reminding her she can call me during the day. I think it’s because I know she wouldn’t be able to get a hold of me at night, and I feel guilty. She’s always in bed by the time I leave, and she has the neighbor’s number if anything were to happen while I’m at work.
“Drive safe,” she calls after me.
I don’t respond. I appreciate the sentiment, but both of us know it doesn’t matter how cautious I am. All it takes is one split second of someone else looking down at their phone to change everything.
* * *
About the timeI’d usually be leaving for work, I shrug into an old flannel shirt. I already let Mom know I’m going for a night ride with Scooby. She’s in her room watching her reality TV shows, which I can’t stand. After her accident, we moved her into the downstairs dining room. It’s a lot larger than her old room, and we didn’t have to add a lift system for the stairs. We spent a few thousand renovating the bathroom down the hall to make it easier for her to use, and she’s adapted to almost everything else fairly well. She’s strong enough to get in and out of her chair when she needs to, so I leave her be, especially since I know it bothers her to rely on me so much when she’s always been so fiercely independent.
I flip the porch light on and lock the door behind me. It’s been months since I rode Scooby longer than just a short stint, and even longer since I’ve gone out at night. The sounds of crickets and frogs fill the night air as I make my way over to the stables. Old Moe neighs loudly as I slide open the bay door and flip on the lights.
Scooby is watching me, ready and alert. After guiding him out, I spend a few minutes brushing him down to make sure my mount will be comfortable, and then I saddle him up. He’s a little twitchy, but I think it’s just from excitement. He stills when I put my boot into the stirrup and haul myself up onto his back.
