The Horsewoman(96)

I had no idea if that might happen here. Or what was about to happen here. No idea whether Sky would come to a dead stop again. Or keep going. Just put my head down and squeezed my eyes shut and held on and trusted my horse.

No time to even pray that Sky could see better than I could right now. I didn’t open my eyes until I felt her go into her jump. I still couldn’t see very well. But I could hear just fine.

And what I didn’t hear was a splash.

“Hell, yeah!”

Finally, it was green light time with the last skinny fence dead ahead. Then she was over that one. When I looked at the replay later, looked at some of the photographs of that one jump, Sky looked as if she were higher in the air than she’d ever been in her life.

As soon as I could I got her turned around, like we had one last turn to make, I looked for our time, eyes very much back to being wide open.

74.5.

Up there in lights.

Just in a good way.





ONE HUNDRED TWENTY



BITSY MORRISSEY CAME OVER to the practice ring on Thursday morning with a TV crew to interview Mom and Tyler and me. Tyler had also gone clear on Wednesday, just with a time a full second behind Mom. He’d still be going right before her in the first round on Friday afternoon. The US team had the three best times. The three of us were last in the order. Simon LaRouche, born in Paris and the hometown favorite, would go before Tyler. Matthew Killeen and Eric Glynn before him.

“What’s it like being on the same team with this mother–daughter act?” Bitsy asked Tyler. “I’m told there might have been some tension between you and them in the past.”

Tyler grinned.

“Let’s put it this way,” he said. “I’ve grown since then.”

“Well,” Mom said, “not literally, Tyler.”

He managed a laugh, whether he meant it or not, before Bitsy asked me what Tyler was like as a teammate.

“Your basic annoying older brother,” I said.

Tyler laughed at that, too. We were at least getting along. It didn’t mean I’d forgotten all the crap things he’d tried to do, and the things he’d said to Mom and Grandmother. But he’d been tolerable since we’d all gotten to Paris, if not likable. And whatever happened tomorrow, the three of us would be trying to win a team gold medal together next week.

Mom had brought a change of clothes with her from the Village. When we’d finished hacking our horses, she and Gus were off to meet Grandmother in the city. It was a good thing, for them, and for me. Even living together, I wanted to put some distance between Mom and me until we were the last two riders into the ring tomorrow, not just for the first round because we’d had the best times yesterday, but maybe even for the jump-off that would decide who would win the gold medal.

I still had to wait a whole day to find all that out.

I took a long walk around the Village, listening to music. Then made another lap. When I was finally back in the apartment, around dinnertime, I put on the television and tried to watch gymnastics. It did absolutely nothing to calm my nerves. Actually, made things worse. I made it through fifteen minutes, feeling as if I were making every move with them, knowing that any slip on the balance beam, or on the dismount, could cost them a chance at a medal. All it took was one bad moment, one false step, to cost them everything they’d trained for, and dreamed about themselves.

One mistake.

Like the kind you could make in the ring, on your way up to the next fence.

After I’d made myself a salad and managed to eat some of it, I got back on the bus and went over to the equestrian park and went down to the stall to be with Sky. She seemed as happy to see me as I was to see her, and not just because I’d brought my girl extra carrots, and even thrown in a couple of mints.

I stayed with her for about an hour, went back to the apartment, and watched yesterday’s round a few times, feeling myself get nervous all over again as we approached the water jump, even knowing that we made it. Blinded by the light? Who sang that?

Every time I watched, I saw how perfect Sky had been, how cool she’d been running when I was the one blinded by the light. But it was only the preliminary, Gus had reminded me that morning. Tomorrow, he said, tomorrow was the main event.

I tried to watch a movie in English, couldn’t remember a thing that had happened or a thing anybody had said before I turned off the set and went to bed and somehow managed to fall asleep. Then didn’t stir until I heard Mom coming in. Checked my phone and saw that it was still just ten thirty.

I saw my door open slightly and Mom put her head in.

“You awake?” she said.

“Kind of,” I said.

I sat up. She walked over and sat at the end of my bed the way she used to when I was little.

“How was your night?” I asked.

“Snootiest restaurant yet,” she said.

“Low bar,” I said.

“Go back to sleep,” she said. “I heard somewhere we’ve both got a big day tomorrow.”

When she got to the door I said, “Mom?”

She stopped and turned around.

“Wish there was a way we could both win tomorrow,” I said.

“Get over it,” she said.





ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-ONE



THERE WAS A PRETTY DECENT cloud cover over the ring when we were walking it the next morning. I told Gus and Mom it could stay there all afternoon as far as I was concerned.