Racing Savannah
Page 25

“This is cozy.”
Vanessa sprawls out on the Halloween couch. “My brother, Ty, keeps trying to buy Papa this house that looks like a castle, but we like it here. But Papa did agree to that TV.” She points at a flat screen. “Ty always thinks we should have the best, no matter if it’s practical or not.”
“Do you miss Ty?”
Vanessa nods slowly. “He wanted me to move out to Arizona with him, but I didn’t want to change schools senior year. And I can’t leave Papa. I’d miss him too much…he’s like, my best friend.” She glances away, embarrassed. I’ve never heard somebody call a grandparent a best friend. Awesome.
“Couldn’t your grandfather go with you?”
“He loves it here. He likes his job at the pajama factory. And besides, I’m going to college at Middle Tennessee state.”
The house smells a little musty because it’s old, but it’s full of warmth, and it amazes me that a guy who came from this life went on to play for the Arizona Cardinals. He took his talents and ran. And now Vanessa is seeing the benefits and doesn’t have to worry about money anymore. I don’t want to worry about money anymore. But the NFL is on an entirely different echelon than horse jockeying.
College could give me new opportunities like Ty had. Maybe I should consider going to talk to the guidance counselor.
Vanessa and I sit down to watch a movie and she tells me how glad she is I moved here and that it’s easy to talk for real with me. She admits that she and Kelsey have more of a surface-level friendship because Kelsey never lets people get close, which sort of shocks me. That girl is such a mystery.
Vanessa and I are still talking when the doorbell rings. She stands to answer the door, revealing Rory. They look at each other for a long moment before he launches himself into her arms, kissing her cheeks and lips and holding her tight. She wraps her arms around his neck and presses her forehead to his.
Jesus, it’s like they’re already in love.
“Are you in big trouble with your mom?” Vanessa asks. “Does she hate me?”
“If she does, it doesn’t matter,” Rory says. “I want you. Like, I want to date only you and I just…” He pauses to take a deep breath, looking into her eyes. “I like you so much.”
“I’m really sorry I fell asleep last night.”
“I’m sorry I let us drink so much champagne,” Rory says with a nervous laugh.
“Never again.”
“Agreed.”
I’m getting a warm feeling watching them. He doesn’t care whether his parents like Vanessa or not. They want each other, so they’re going to be together. I love that.
What would happen if I told Dad and Cindy that I want to be with Jack? Would Jack make sure his father doesn’t fire my family? Would Jack tell his father about us?
I love Jack’s confidence, his smirk, his sense of humor, the way he cares for his little sister, the way he loves his animals, he edits his mom’s cookbook, he helped me pour water at dinner that night. I just like him.
I want Jack, and I shouldn’t let anybody—not even myself—get in the way of it.
When I get home, I find Dad and Cindy sitting on the couch, looking at a baby name book she borrowed from Mrs. Goodwin.
“Shortcake, what do you think of Arya?” Cindy asks.
“I like it, but it sounds too medieval,” I say, squeezing onto the couch on the other side of Dad. I lean against his arm, rest my chin on his shoulder, and look down at the book with him.
“What about something modern?” I ask. “How about Marriott?”
Cindy laughs. “We are not naming the baby after a hotel chain.”
We flip through the book for a while longer, checking out names like Crimson (love it!), Katherine (Cindy’s choice), and Nina (Dad thinks it’s sweet).
I sigh, snuggling closer to Dad, resting my head on his shoulder. “Can I talk to you about something?”
“Of course,” Cindy says, snapping the book shut.
“You have to promise you won’t get mad or jump to conclusions or anything.”
“We promise,” Dad says, taking my hand. “But you’d better not be pregnant.”
“Jesus Lord, Dad! You need to get a filter.”
“That’s true.” Cindy gently taps his arm. “So what’s going on?”
I look around to make sure nobody else is nearby listening in. “Um…here’s the thing. I’ve been spending a lot of time with Jack…and I want to try dating him—”
“No,” Dad says, shaking his head fast.
“But I really like him.”
“I told you not to start anything with him.”
How do you tell your dad it’s too late? It’s not like I’d tell him Jack and I have already been to third base together.
“How could you disobey me?” His voice is angry and full of hurt. “You know the Goodwins don’t want us interfering with their lives. They don’t even want us in their house!”
Cindy pats his knee. “Shhh.” She gives me a disappointed-mom face, even though she’s not my stepmother yet. “After what happened with Moonshadow, I don’t want to see you hurt again. Being with Jack might seem good today, but that could change.”
Memories of kissing Jack one night and then having him back off the next day fill my mind. He played Abby Winchester. He probably wrote Kelsey Painter off too. But I could be different, right?
“But it’s my decision,” I say. Breakups are always a possibility, but without him, life will feel like riding a super slow mule. “I want this.”
Dad and Cindy exchange a long look. Finally he lets out a long sigh. “We can’t afford for you to a make a decision that’ll mess up our jobs right now, understand?” He sets his jaw. “Ever since we moved here, every decision you’ve made has been selfish or dangerous—with your jockeying and exercise riding and looking at colleges on the computer or dating my boss’s son. You know I can’t afford to send you to college—” Dad’s voice breaks. “Rory Whitfield is a nice guy. Why don’t you date him?”
“I’m never gonna like Rory like that—”
“Our lives,” Dad starts, blowing into his cupped hands. “We’re never gonna have lives like the Goodwins. I don’t know what ideas this place is putting into your head but it needs to stop before you get hurt and Cindy and your little sister get hurt too, got it?” His tone is fiercely mean and serious.
My hands and lips are trembling. I feel queasy. A stabbing pain rushes up my arm and into my chest. I start shaking all over.
Dad has never spoken to me like this. Ever.
Growing up, Dad told me stories about how his father, my papa, never could keep a steady job as a groom and they bought all their groceries with food stamps. Didn’t Dad start working at Cedar Hill because he wanted a better life? What’s so wrong with me going after something better?
“Can I still be a jockey?” I ask through clenched teeth, curling my hands into fists.
“I said you could until something else bad happens, didn’t I?” Dad runs a hand through his hair, grasping it tightly.
Cindy says, “We just worry about you, Shortcake—”
“Stop calling me Shortcake!” I burst. “Only Mom and Dad are allowed to call me that!”
Cindy looks down at her stomach and starts crying. Dad’s face immediately softens and he tells her he loves her and the baby.
Yvonne appears in the doorway with wide eyes, holding her needlework, looking at the three of us. She gives me a wink and a nod before disappearing back toward her room.
I stand up on shaky knees. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Stay away from Jack Goodwin,” Dad calls out.
I jet out the door, ignoring Dad, pulling a sucker from my pocket and jabbing it into my mouth.
I make it all the way to Greenbriar pasture before I start sobbing.
It’s late on Sunday afternoon, and everyone’s enjoying post-church supper with their families so the racetracks are deserted. Only a few farmhands are around, monitoring the grazing horses. I open the gate, and Star immediately jogs over to me, whinnying softly. He doesn’t stop to show me respect; he buries his nose in my neck and sighs.
“I love you too,” I whisper into his mane.
How could Dad yell at me like that? Doesn’t he care what I feel for Jack? It’s not like I ever yelled at him when he got Cindy pregnant when there’s no way in hell he could afford another kid. And I haven’t been selfish at all. Of course, Dad doesn’t know I asked Mr. Goodwin to supplement Cindy’s paychecks with my own…
Jack’s three dogs bound up, panting and slobbering all over the place, chasing each other around the cedar trees. I turn to find Jack looking over his shoulder toward the manor house.
“I was hoping I’d find you here,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting into a subtle grin. “This is becoming our spot.” He gestures at the pasture.
I nod, giving him a little smile.
“What’s wrong?” he whispers.
I shake my head, not ready to talk yet.
“Let’s walk,” he says. I follow him out the gate and toward the lake. Star snorts, upset that I’m leaving him behind.
Jack leads me down to the lake with his hounds in tow. There, he wipes the tears out from under my eyes and I curl up against his chest. That gives him the opening he needs, I guess, because soon we’re kissing and his hands are in my hair and I’m running my hands under his T-shirt, dragging my fingertips over his abs. It’s a warm September evening and the stars are just beginning to peek out. Twilight.
“If I take your clothes off, Jasper will steal them,” Jack murmurs between kisses, as he unsnaps my bra, leaving my shirt on.
“Wouldn’t want that,” I say softly, laughing.
We lie down together in the grass, him straddling my hips, reenacting what we did last night. He unbuttons my jeans and slides them down until they’re hooked around one of my ankles, and he kisses and touches me until I’m tingling all over. But we go a step further, doing something I’ve never done.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, threading his fingers through my hair, and I nod. I take him in my hand and go down on him—because I want to. It’s awkward and I’m scared I’m doing something wrong, but I love feeling close to him. He seems to like what I’m doing…
When we’re both finished, he presses his cheek to mine and whispers, “Are you feeling better?”
I nod, snuggling against his chest.
“I’m sorry we got interrupted last night,” he says softly. “I’ll have to take you up to our weekend cabin in Kentucky sometime soon, so we can have privacy…”
I love the idea of being his houseguest at their cabin. I’ve never been there, but I heard Jodi telling Cindy about it. Jodi said it was about the prettiest place she’d ever seen, covered in ivy like straight out of a fairy tale.
I smile into Jack’s shoulder, close my eyes, and enjoy the sounds of water lapping gently against the banks. “Jack?”