Best Friends (5 page)

“And get here early,” said Carole, thinking about the long drive into town at dawn to get on the road just two days after Christmas.

“I’ve got an idea,” said Lisa.

Carole and Stevie looked at her.

“Why don’t we stay here the night before? That way we’ll know Stevie will get up on time, we can make sure the
horses are properly prepared for the trip,
and
we’ll have more fun together.”

“Count me in,” Stevie said.

“Me too!” Carole agreed.

“And the best part is that since Veronica is leaving the day after Christmas, we won’t see her for three full days!” said Stevie.

“We won’t miss her one teeny-tiny bit,” said Lisa.

“It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christ-mas!” Stevie sang, off-key.

L
ISA FINISHED THE
last of her math homework, double-checked her answers, and then put the page aside in her finished-homework folder. Her history questions were already there, as was her French vocabulary exercise. She always felt so satisfied when her homework was both finished and well done. There were things in life over which she had no control, but homework was not one of them.

She pushed back her chair and reached for her copy of
Gone With the Wind
. It was a great book, and she was loving it—even more than she’d loved the movie. There were some papers under the book.

Her heart sank. It was the application for the CI. She’d sent away for it the very first day Max had told them all to
do it, and she’d gotten it back right away, but she’d had a hard time filling it out. As little as three months ago, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. She would have filled it out and then told her parents how much money she needed. They would have given her the cash and she would have put it in an envelope to take with her to the show so that she could pay when she registered.

Nothing was that simple anymore. Her mother was working extra hours, and her father always looked drawn and tired when she saw him.

It wasn’t that the Atwoods were ever that rich, but nobody in the family had really worried about money before. At least it had seemed that way to Lisa. Now it seemed that everything was about money. Lisa’s mother had said she couldn’t get her a new outfit for the holidays this year because “money’s tight.” Lisa didn’t need a new outfit for the holidays. She had plenty of clothes to wear, but her mother had always had fun buying her new ones. Even her father, who had never complained about money, had mentioned to Lisa that he’d seen an apartment he’d wanted to rent, but he’d chosen a less expensive one instead.

Lisa picked up her book and settled onto her bed, where the light for reading was just right. She didn’t open the book, though. She lay back and let her mind wander.

It was just a few months ago that her parents split up.
Until that day, Lisa had thought everything was just fine. But it wasn’t. Things must have been going wrong for a long time and she’d never noticed. It made her wonder how much else she hadn’t seen. She was just about to tell herself that this kind of self-pity wasn’t going to get her anywhere when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she said.

Mrs. Atwood entered and sat on the edge of Lisa’s bed.

They talked for a few minutes about Lisa’s homework and school in general. It seemed funny to Lisa that the thing she’d always been the very best at, schoolwork, was something her parents never seemed to notice when they were together. Now that they were separated and planning a divorce, they asked about it all the time. Lisa wasn’t sure they cared about it any more than they had in the past, but asking about homework sometimes made it possible to keep from talking about things nobody wanted to talk about.

“All done,” Lisa said. “I’m going to read for a little while now before I turn out my light.” She tapped the book on her lap.

“I loved that book,” her mother said. “But don’t read too late.”

“Promise,” said Lisa. She smiled a little bit inside. She was almost always good about going to sleep at a reasonable hour, and her mother knew it.

“Listen, I had an idea,” her mother said. Lisa waited for her to continue. “There’s an exhibition of impressionist
paintings at a museum in the city. I have to work on Saturday, but I was wondering if you’d like to go with me on Sunday afternoon. That way you could go riding with your friends in the morning, and then we could have lunch and go to the museum in the afternoon. I mean, if you’d like.”

“I’d like,” Lisa said.

“Good.” Her mother smiled and then gave her a goodnight kiss before she left the room.

Just a few months earlier, whenever Lisa’s mother wanted to spend time with her it seemed she wanted to be at the mall. Lisa liked having nice clothes, but she’d never been bitten by the shopping bug quite the way her mother had, and it was never much fun for her. Impressionist paintings would be much better.

She picked up her book, but before she could begin to settle into antebellum Atlanta, the phone rang.

“Hi, sweetie.” It was her dad.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Am I interrupting something important, like homework?” he asked.

Lisa smiled.
Two for two
. “Nope, it’s all done. I’m just reading. And then I’m going to sleep.”

“Good day?”

Lisa thought about it for a second. “Good day,” she said. “I had a riding lesson, and for once I didn’t mess everything up!”

Her dad laughed. “That definitely qualifies as a good day. There are a couple of things I didn’t mess up today, either, so I guess I had a good day, too. I was just thinking about you and missing you, so I thought I’d call.”

A few minutes later they said good night, gave hugs and kisses over the phone, and hung up.

After Lisa turned off the light that night, she fell into a peaceful sleep, without thinking any more about the blank application on her desk.

“B
OMBS AWAY
!” A
LEX
howled outside Stevie’s bedroom door. She heard a pillow hit the door but had almost no trouble ignoring it. She’d slid her desk chair under the doorknob and muffled the outside noise by piling all the pillows from her bed, chair, and window seat around the door. Her brothers could feel free to reenact all of World War II right outside her room. She intended to enjoy some peace and quiet.

She went to her closet. Carole had once remarked that it took considerable courage every time Stevie opened her closet door, and Stevie summoned that courage now. Her closet tended to be the repository of everything her mother told her to pick up, plus laundry, clean and dirty.

Stevie knew exactly what she was looking for and exactly where it was. It was the large shoe box on top of her laundry—the clean pile.

She opened the door a crack and a few things tumbled out. She shoved them back in and reached around until her hand found the item she was seeking. She grasped it firmly and brought the box out into her room, shoving the door closed behind her with her hip.

She carried the box to her comfortable chair and sat down, hardly noticing that it wasn’t so comfortable without any pillows. Her focus was total. She opened the box. There they were: the most beautiful dress boots she’d ever owned.

Her hands slid over the glossy leather, pausing at the small shiny buckle. Most tall riding boots were black, and that was fine most of the time. This time, however, Stevie had chosen a rich mahogany brown that seemed to her the most beautiful color in the world.

She removed the cardboard pieces that held the tops firm and reached down into the toes to take out the crumpled paper. She pulled on the left boot first, reveling in the ease with which it slid over her ankle and up her calf. It wasn’t loose, but it wasn’t tight, either. It was perfect.

She stood and walked to the mirror, just as she’d done at the tack shop, hoping that the boot would look as wonderful now as it did then. It looked better. She grinned, then hobbled back to put on the other boot.

The pair together looked even better than the one alone had looked. She wiggled her toes. There was plenty of room.

Luscious
was the word that came to mind. She sighed with contentment, instantly seeing herself in a riding ring, surrounded by an adoring audience and an admiring panel of judges. With boots like these, nobody would ever ride the dressage course backward. It would be impossible to make a mistake dressed in these.

She wiggled her ankles. The boots were a little stiff, but new boots were supposed to be a little stiff. She’d have to wear them—and wear them often—to break them in for competition.

Suddenly she didn’t feel so good. She had bought the boots with the last of the money she had. She couldn’t go to the CI without boots, and now that she had boots, she didn’t know how she was going to pay for the CI.

She sat down and took off the boots. Carefully, she put them back in the box, feeling how smooth and supple they were and enjoying the spicy scent of fresh leather. She put the top on the box and put the boots back in her closet.

She fetched a couple of the pillows from her door and retreated to her bed, where her history textbook awaited her attention. It didn’t get her attention. Once the boots were back in her closet, the only thing she could think of was money. She didn’t have any.

Not only had she spent all her money on the boots, she’d spent everything she had been counting on for Christmas
presents for her friends and family, too. The only present she’d paid for was the photograph for her parents. She had six dollars left for everything else.

The phone rang. Stevie picked it up, and Carole started right in.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” she said.

“And it is?”

“Well, since there’s so much going on, like finishing up projects in school”—Stevie knew Carole was having trouble with the science project—“and Christmas, and getting ready for the CI, and the Starlight Ride and everything …” She paused and took a breath. Stevie waited. “Well, what would you think if we, I mean the three of us, waited until after Christmas to exchange presents? We could have our own Christmas at the stable before we go to the CI.”

“Christmas in a stable? Sounds kind of traditional to me,” Stevie joked.

“No, really, I mean it,” said Carole.

Stevie thought about it for a second. There was a lot to be said for the idea. Even if she couldn’t figure out how to pay for the CI, there was no way she’d miss the night at the stable with her friends, and she’d have a whole day after Christmas, maybe with a couple of fat Christmas checks in hand, to find nice presents for her friends.

“I think I like it,” she said.

“I bet Lisa will, too,” said Carole.

Stevie looked at her clock. It was too late to call Lisa that night.

“I’ll see her in the morning on the way to school, probably,” Stevie said, expecting she’d miss the bus, as usual. “I’ll ask her about it then.”

“Good idea. And if you miss her, I’ll catch her after the assembly at school.”

“Deal,” said Stevie. They said good night and hung up.

Stevie glanced at her history assignment and, having decided she knew enough to get by in class, turned out her light.

Sleep didn’t come easily, though. She worried for a few minutes about how she would pay for the CI, but she found herself worrying even more about how Carole would manage it. Carole was such a great rider, and Starlight was such an inspired jumper. They
had
to go.

If she could give any present in the world to Carole, she would make it possible for her to go to the CI, but Carole couldn’t even tell Stevie about her problem. How could Stevie help someone who wouldn’t ask her for help? And how could she help someone else when she couldn’t do a darn thing for herself?

“O
H
, S
TEVIE
! T
HEY
’
RE
beautiful!” Lisa said, admiring the new boots as Stevie took them out of the box. The girls were in the locker area at Pine Hollow, getting ready for class. “And you’re going to wear them for just us, here at the stable in a class?”

Stevie ran her hand along the smooth leather before inserting her boot hooks and pulling the first boot up her left calf. “Just for you,” she said. “Well, not really. I’ve got to break them in. They’re a bit stiff, and they’ll need to be comfortable before I can wear them in a competition.”