Horse Blues (4 page)

“Sure!” the three of them said in unison. It was funny, Lisa thought, but it was as if they were glad to have an outside person present—to break the tension between them.

“The bake sale was a great idea, don’t you think?” Mrs. Reg asked, coming over to join them.

“The best!” said Stevie. “You’re not going to tell Max, though, are you?”

Mrs. Reg feigned indignation. “What do you take me for? I knew you’d want it to be a secret until it’s a done deed and you have the cash in hand, so to speak. Don’t worry—my lips are sealed. I just came
to tell you that, since I’m sure you three will have something to do with the organizing, I know a few riders who haven’t been involved in Horse Wise recently but might be persuaded to help.”

“And who could rejoin the club if they’ve let their memberships lapse?” Lisa asked.

“Precisely,” said Mrs. Reg. She named a few students the girls remembered. “And finally, there’s a certain boy who I’ll bet would be a great help. He’s been away for a while, but he’s very enthusiastic.”

“Who’s that?” Stevie asked.

“His name is Simon Atherton. His father got temporarily transferred so he’s been living in …”

None of The Saddle Club heard the end of Mrs. Reg’s sentence. Lisa clapped her hand to her mouth. “Simon Atherton!” she wailed. “Oh, no!”

“Bet you thought you’d never see him again, huh, Lisa?” said Stevie, grinning.

“But I thought he’d quit riding forever,” Carole added.

“Quit? No, he didn’t quit,” Mrs. Reg said brightly.

“As I was saying, his father got transferred from Washington to Texas for a few months and took the whole family with him. Simon’s been living in Houston. That’s why you haven’t seen him around.”

Stevie, Lisa, and Carole groaned. Lisa groaned
the loudest. Then they remembered Mrs. Reg. She was trying to help. They were acting like a bunch of ungrateful jerks. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Reg,” Lisa began, “it’s just …” She paused, not knowing how to continue. How could they tell Max’s mother that Simon Atherton was the last person on earth they wanted help from for the bake sale?

Simon was the nerdiest boy in Willow Creek. He had once had a huge crush on Lisa. He had followed her around, asking her if she wanted to study with him, solve math problems together, or do extra-credit homework. Even for Lisa, he was too goody-goody! But if what Mrs. Reg said was true, and Simon was ready and willing to help out, they couldn’t avoid him. They had to put Horse Wise first.

Carole rushed to Lisa’s aid. “Thanks, Mrs. Reg. We’ll give him a call right away.”

“All right, dears,” Mrs. Reg replied happily.

Lisa breathed a sigh of relief. Mrs. Reg tended to be a little spacy. Luckily she didn’t seem to have noticed the girls’ initial reactions.

“By the way, girls,” Mrs. Reg added, “have you seen the boarder in the stall next to Patch’s?”

The three girls nodded, holding their breath to see if Mrs. Reg was going to leave off there or continue
with one of her endless—and pointless—stories.

“You mean the chestnut, right?” Lisa asked.

“That’s right, the chestnut. Pretty, isn’t he?” said Mrs. Reg.

“Yes, Mrs. Reg, he’s very pretty,” Lisa replied. Now if only Mrs. Reg would leave it at that …!

Mrs. Reg turned to go. Then she turned back around. “A real beauty if you ask me. Of course, he’s a European warmblood, so you would expect that. Did you know his owners imported him from Germany?”

Stevie jumped in. “No, Mrs. Reg. But he sure is a pretty horse.”

“I’ll say. But you should have seen him a year ago. He wasn’t much to look at when the owners first bought him. As a yearling, he was downright unattractive. Some breeds mature slowly. It takes them a long time to come into their own. But once they do, they often have better conformation than the ones that start out attractive. Funny, isn’t it?” Mrs. Reg mused.

Stevie fiddled conspicuously with her stirrups. Lisa fiddled with her reins. Carole cleared her throat.

“All right, I’ll be on my way. You three had better get back to your riding.” Mrs. Reg sighed. “My, that chestnut turned out nicely, though.…”

For the rest of their ride, the girls giggled to themselves. Mrs. Reg meant well, but she sure could ramble!

“O
KAY
,
WHO
’
S UP
for TD’s?” Stevie queried. The horses had been rubbed down, and the girls were about to finish wiping off their tack. Stevie thought it was only fitting that they usher in the new year with a visit to their favorite ice cream parlor.

“Umm … I can’t,” Lisa confessed, to Stevie’s surprise.

“Me either,” Carole said glumly.

“This year is starting out awfully strange,” Stevie said, shaking her head. “First Max comes purposefully late to a Horse Wise meeting, then Mrs. Reg tells a
short
, pointless story, and now you two are turning down a trip to Tastee Delight?”

“I promised my mother I’d go home and start my embroidery project right after we rode,” Lisa explained. Mentally she added,
Which I wouldn’t have had to do if you hadn’t said anything, Stevie
.

Stevie looked down at the floor, wishing she
could take back her remark to Lisa’s mother. “What’s your excuse, Carole?” she asked. “Where do you have to be?”

Carole looked awkward. “It’s just—well—I don’t have to be anywhere. But if I go to TD’s, I’ll want to get ice cream, and I can’t, since that’s junk food.”

Stevie glanced at her friends. “You know what I think? I think we should just …” Stevie paused. She could feel Lisa’s eyes on her. She had been about to say, “I think we should just forget all about these silly resolutions.” But Stevie didn’t want to be the first one to quit. Lisa would think she had no self-discipline, that she only wanted to get out of her resolution. And why should she look bad? Being nice to Veronica was a piece of cake so far.

“You think we should just what?” Carole asked hopefully. She had an inkling of what was on Stevie’s mind. If only Stevie would spit it out! Then she could tell them about eating the doughnut. They could laugh about it and forget these stupid resolutions.

“I think we should—I mean, I think
you
should come to TD’s and—and order a diet soda or a fat-free frozen yogurt,” Stevie finished lamely. “And Lisa, can’t you call your mother and tell her you’ll be an hour late? The embroidery can wait, can’t it?”

“I don’t know, can it?” Lisa said cryptically. She didn’t want to look as if she was trying to cheat on her resolution, especially since the resolutions had been her idea in the first place.

“Of course it can!” Stevie said. “It’s barely noon. You’ll have all afternoon to embroider!”

Right
, thought Lisa,
after I empty the dishwasher, set the table
 … Still, she didn’t want to be left out. “I’ll go if you will, Carole,” she said.

“We-e-ll, I guess so,” Carole replied. If Lisa went to TD’s, then wouldn’t she sort of be cheating, too? Maybe she would keep putting off the embroidery and finally forget all about it. Then Carole could forget about not eating junk food!

Feeling relieved but still somehow uneasy, the girls hung up their bridles and saddles and headed for the door. As Carole opened it, Veronica diAngelo flounced in. Veronica was dressed in new riding clothes from head (the newest-style velvet hunt cap) to toe (custom-made tall boots).

Before they could get a word in, Veronica started to talk a mile a minute. “Hello, girls! Did you have an exciting New Year’s Eve? Mine was the best ever! I guess you heard I went on a helicopter ride over the city? It was just marvelous! Me, my family, and a special friend. We stayed out way past midnight. Of
course, I’m sure watching TV or whatever boring, humdrum thing you and your little club did was fun in its way—”

“Aren’t you running late, Veronica?” Stevie broke in abruptly, gritting her teeth. The nerve! People like Veronica were the reason Horse Wise was failing! Stevie would have liked to tell Veronica off, but she couldn’t—at least not in front of Lisa and Carole.

“Late? Why, no,” Veronica replied. “I don’t think so. My jumping lesson with Johannes Wendt doesn’t start till twelve-thirty. One of the stable hands should have Danny ready by now, so I’m actually early. But then, unlike you, I make it a point to be on time.”

Stevie clenched her hands into fists. That was a low blow, and Veronica knew it. Stevie was already upset about her tardiness, but she didn’t have maids to get her dressed and a chauffeur to drive her places and—

“You’re having a lesson with Johannes Wendt?” Carole breathed. Wendt was a four-time German Equestrian Team member. When he taught in the United States, he reputedly charged a couple of hundred dollars an hour for lessons. Carole would have given the shirt off her back to ride with him.

“I certainly am. It was one of my Christmas presents. Along with these European breeches, this jumping bat—”

“Okay, okay!” Stevie burst out. “We’ve heard enough about your presents! Did it ever occur to you that it’s rude to brag all the time?”

Carole and Lisa were speechless. Stevie had broken her resolution right in front of them.

“Jealousy will get you nowhere, Stevie,” Veronica said evenly.

“Jealousy? You listen to me! We had a Horse Wise meeting this morning. Not that you’d care since you hate anything involving teamwork, but—”

“Stevie?” Carole said hesitantly. She hated to interrupt, since what Stevie said was true, but she could tell Stevie had forgotten about her resolution in the heat of the moment. “Don’t you think we’d better be going?” she asked gently.

All at once, Stevie seemed to remember herself. “Oh, yeah,” she said quietly, embarrassed by her outburst. “You’re right.” She turned to follow Lisa and Carole out the door.

“Toodle-oo!” Veronica called cheerily after them.

“Happy New Year,” Stevie muttered bitterly.

“Y
OU THREE ARE
pretty darn quiet,” the waitress at TD’s observed. “Wha’s a matter? Cat got your tongues?”

None of The Saddle Club bothered to respond. Carole stared glumly at her menu, trying to figure out what to order that wouldn’t be junk food. Lisa fiddled nervously with her spoon. She had just returned from phoning her mother to tell her that she wouldn’t be home until later. “But I thought you couldn’t wait to start embroidering,” Mrs. Atwood had said, making Lisa feel guilty.

Even Stevie’s spirits were dampened by her run-in
with Veronica. Maybe urging Lisa and Carole to come had been a stupid idea after all. They certainly didn’t seem too excited to be there.

“So, come on, come on, hurry up already. You think I got all day? What’ll it be?” the waitress demanded, snapping her gum.

Carole thought fast. “I’ll have a lemonade,” she decided.

“A dish of vanilla ice cream, please,” said Lisa. She wasn’t in the mood for anything more elaborate.

“And I’ll take a—a—” Stevie paused. She had been about to order one of her famous concoctions but decided against it. She thought it would be obnoxious to get a huge sundae when Carole was trying not to eat junk food.

As Stevie was debating with herself, however, Carole spoke up. “I know what you’re thinking, and believe me, Stevie, the grosser the sundae you get, the better. I’m not likely to be tempted by peanut butter ice cream with strawberry sauce, you know!”

Lisa and Stevie laughed, and the waitress, who was used to Stevie’s preferences for revolting sundaes, made a face.

“Hey, peanut butter and strawberry—that sounds good!” said Stevie, perking up. “I’ll take it—plus a
scoop of Oreo cookie, marshmallow topping, and a maraschino cherry.”

As Carole and Lisa grimaced, the waitress turned to place their orders, shaking her head and muttering. “One of these days, boy, I’m going to run out of patience and you’re going to get nothing but hot fudge on vanilla, ya hear me?”

The Saddle Club giggled.

When she returned, the waitress handed Carole the lemonade. “What are you, on some kind of a diet?” she asked, eyeing Carole suspiciously.

“Not exactly,” Carole replied. She cast a baleful glance at Lisa and Stevie, hoping they would help her change the subject.

“ ’Cause let me tell you, it won’t work. I’ve tried ’em all—low-fat, no-fat, high-protein, grapefruit—you might as well forget about it. You’ll just gain it all right back.”

“Thanks for your advice,” Carole said sarcastically.

“She’s not on a diet,” Lisa piped up. “She’s trying to give up junk food.”

The waitress looked momentarily impressed. “Now there’s an idea.… Nah, that won’t work either. It’ll just make you crazy. Sure you don’t want a chocolate cone?”

“Yes,” Carole said testily. “I’m sure.”

“Or a shake? A vanilla shake?”

“No,
thank you
.”

“Root beer float?”

“No!”

“Chipwich with—”

“
No!
Look, I’m happy with my lemonade, okay?” Carole burst out.

The waitress raised her eyebrows. She stepped back from the table. “Well, excu-u-use me,” she said, turning on her heel.

“Don’t mind her, Carole,” Lisa murmured, seeing Carole’s exasperated expression. “She’s probably just jealous that you have the willpower and she doesn’t.”