Page 9 of Grit
“Seriously serious?”
Greg chuckled and patted her back. “Seriously serious, princess. We figured you were ready for a step up from ranch horses. You’re an excellent rider, Abby. I know you’ll do us proud.”
Melissa ignored the slight about ranch horses and focused on her daughter’s excitement.
“Mom!” Abby’s face was glowing. “Did you see?” She held up the picture.
“I did! He’s beautiful, baby.” Melissa plastered a smile on her face.
If you keep making that face, it’s going to get stuck like that.
Kind of like Bev with the Botox.
Abby ran to Cary’s mom, a tiny, elderly Japanese woman who was like another grandmother. “Nana Rumi, look at my new horse!”
“He is beautiful.” Rumi’s eyes were wide. “But so tall! Are you big enough to ride him, Abby?”
“Yeah, I’m ten now!”
Melissa looked at the picture of the large gelding with a smartly coated rider on his back, jumping over a rail. It looked like a photograph out of a horse country magazine.
Greg and Beverly had bought her ten-year-old a Thoroughbred. A fancy one. Probably spent twenty grand on it, or more. Never mind that the girl would be better served on a foothill ranch by a hardy quarter horse or an Appaloosa.
Melissa had a bad feeling about this. Greg was looking too smug for this to be a simple present.
“Let me see.” Cary put a hand on Abby’s shoulder. “That is one handsome horse, kid.”
Abby was beaming. “Look at him, Cary. His name is Sunday Picnic, but I’m gonna call him Sunny.”
“That’s agreatname for a horse. Think he’ll get along with Moxie and PJ?”
“Look at his face.” Abby was already in love. “I think he’s the sweetest. He’s going to love Moxie and PJ.”
Beverly’s smile was sharp. “I’m sure he would get along with any horse, but he’ll live at our stables, Abby. You’ll see him there.”
Aaaand there it was.Melissa tried not to curse.You shits.
Her mother looked furious but was trying to hide it. “Seems a little silly to keep a girl’s horse two hours away when she lives on a ranch.”
Abby’s smile fell. “He’s not going to live here?”
“Oh sweetie, he’s not aranchhorse,” Beverly said, trying and failing not to condescend. “Not like your mother’s and grandmother’s horses. He’s a Thoroughbred. Sunday Picnic has been trained as a jumper. You can learn how to jump with him. We’ll keep him in our stables on the coast with our trainer.”
Greg said, “Desmond has all the connections to get you the very best jumping instructor. He’s very excited to start. And once you’re ready to compete, there are tournaments and competitions all over the Central Coast.”
If they couldn’t convince Melissa to move to the coast with their granddaughter, they’d simply try to bribe Abby directly.
Abby was confused. Her friends were confused. Everyone was passing the picture of Sunny the new horse around, and Ox and Cary were glaring at Greg Rhodes like he’d just murdered a unicorn.
Melissa clapped her hands together. “Riding time! Who’s ready for riding?”
The squeals started again, and the girls headed toward the door.
Abby ran over to her mother. “Mom, I don’t understand—”
“We’ll talk about it later.” She leaned down, kissed Abby’s cheek, and whispered, “Go say thank you. Say thank you to Grandma and Grandpa Rhodes, and we’ll figure it out, okay?”
“Okay.” A quick hug. “Thanks for the party, Mom.”
