Рита Браун - Outfoxed

She read out loud to Golly and Raleigh: “In the presence of others sing not to yourself with a humming noise, nor drum with your fingers or feet.” She paused. “Well, that leaves Kyle Dawson out of polite society.”

“Sister, you haven’t seen Kyle Dawson in years,” Raleigh reminded her.

She peeped over the book, speaking to the animals. “Here’s one for you. Number thirteen. Ready? ‘Kill no vermin as fleas, lice, ticks & c in sight of others; if you see any filth or thick spittle, put your foot dexterously upon it; if it be upon the clothes of your companions, put it off privately; and if it be upon our own clothes, return thanks to him who put it off.’ ”

“I don’t have fleas.” Golly rolled over, reaching high into the air with her left paw.

“Liar.” Raleigh lifted his head.

“That got a response.” Sister turned the page. The phone rang. No one close to Sister called after nine-thirty in the evening. It was now ten. “Hello.”

“Hello, is this Mrs. Raymond Arnold?”

“Yes.”

The deep male voice replied, “This is Dr. Walter Lungrun. I was hoping I could cub with you this Thursday.”

“Are you a member of another hunt, Mr. Lungrun?”

“No, ma’am, I’m not. I’ve just returned to the area to do my residency.”

“Ah, well, come on ours anyway. You’ll have to sign a waiver and release form saying you know this sport is dangerous and if you break your neck so be it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It will be good to have a doctor in the field. What’s your specialty?”

“Neurosurgery.”

Sister glanced at the silver-framed photograph of Raymond in his army uniform that rested on her night table. “Lungrun. From Louisa County?”

“Yes. I left to go to Cornell and then to NYU School of Medicine.”

“So you’re smart, Dr. Lungrun.” Her voice lightened.

“Smart enough to call you.” He was light in return.

“Well then, I’ll see you at seven-thirty at the Mill Ruins.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Good-bye, Dr. Lungrun.”

“Good-bye, Mrs. Arnold.”

She hung up the phone, folded her hands over her chest. “How extraordinary.”

CHAPTER 16

“Why do I have to do it? I don’t see why,” Jennifer, just a shade shorter than her older sister, argued.

“Because I said so.” Cody slipped her arm through her sister’s arm. “Come on.”

However, before they were out the door an irate Betty was pounding up the front steps. “Just where do you think you’re going?” She pointed at Cody. “You were supposed to take her to school.”

Betty pushed both her daughters through the door, slamming it behind her.

“Mom, I can explain,” Cody started.

“In a minute.” Betty held up her hands for silence, turned her bright blue eyes on her youngest. “Well, miss?”

“I got tired so I crashed with Cody.”

“And I just won the lottery.” Betty was having none of it.

With a slow step the young women moved toward the sofa. There’d be no getting out of this.

However, Cody tried. “Mom, why is Dad supporting Crawford Howard for the joint-mastership? Crawford doesn’t know anything about hunting.”

“Since when have you been interested in the politics of the Jefferson Hunt?” Betty plopped onto the chair facing the sofa.

“Curious.”

“Yeah.” Jennifer picked up the theme.

“Crawford will put the club on a financially secure base. Right now that’s crucial. Sister knows enough about hunting for ten masters. What we need is money or an angel.”

“Crawford could write checks.”

“Cody, no one is going to write out thirty to fifty thousand dollars a year above and beyond the annual budget simply to help the club. That kind of commitment demands a joint-M.F.H. behind his name.”

“Fontaine is a better choice.” Cody brushed back her black hair, which had fallen in her eyes.

“Fontaine can’t keep his dick in his pants.” Jennifer sniggered.

“Mom, they carry on like that in Washington all the time. If presidents can do it, why not Fontaine?”

“This is Virginia, not Washington.” Betty’s jaw jutted out.

Her girls stared at her. There was no rejoinder. Another quiet sigh escaped them.

“Cody and I overslept. It’s my fault. I didn’t set the alarm like I said I would,” Jennifer explained.

“Lame.” Betty crossed her arms over her impressive chest.

Cody thought to herself that a lame excuse was better than no excuse, but the weight of the lies, at first so gossamer thin, bent her shoulders. She’d lied about herself since high school and now she was lying for Jennifer. While these fabrications might solve the problem temporarily, they only seemed to worsen it long term. Cody knew the only reason she was still acceptable at Jefferson Hunt was that she could ride. Her beauty attracted men. Her problems eventually repelled them, except for Doug. She studied her sister. In Cody’s eyes, Jennifer was more beautiful than herself. Where her hair was black, Jennifer’s was a rich seal brown and her light-coffee-colored eyes made her so warm, approachable. Cody’s eyes were beginning to betray hard living.

“Mom, I’ll go to the principal. This is my fault.” Cody squared her shoulders.

“That’s noble of you. However, we aren’t leaving this room until I get the truth. And if I don’t, Jennifer, you are coming home with me and you’re grounded, and I mean grounded for the next month. No allowance. No parties. No hunting. Zip.”

“Mom!”

“That’s right, Mom, ” Betty shouted.

“I didn’t feel good, so I came here. It was closer than home.” Jennifer stretched out her long legs, crossing them at the ankles.

Betty wordlessly looked to Cody, who finally said, “She was—”

“High.” Betty cut in. “Do you think I’m blind? Jennifer, we went through this last summer. You promised you’d stop but”—she weighed her words—“that’s proved beyond your powers.”

“Mom, it wasn’t so bad. I mean this is the only time since June. Since last time. Really. I just felt like it. I was stupid. It won’t happen again.”

“What amazes me is that you are seventeen years old and you can find dope or whatever you call it these days and the police can’t. We’re beyond apologies, Jennifer. We’re going into a treatment program.”

“No.” Jennifer’s face turned crimson.

“And if you know what’s good for you, Cody, you’ll cough up the money and go in, too.”

Cody pinched her lips together.

“You can’t do this to me!” Jennifer jumped up, towering over her medium-sized mother.

Betty rose but Jennifer pushed her back onto the chair.

Cody shot from the sofa, grabbing Jennifer. “Don’t touch Mom, Jen.”

“She’s a fucking saint?” Jennifer snarled.

“She’s our mother and she’s a lot closer to it than we’ll ever be. Don’t touch her.”

“Fine.” Jennifer hauled off and socked Cody instead.

Cody, bigger, stronger, and smarter, ducked the next punch, stepped inside a roundhouse swing, and with the back edge of her hand chopped Jennifer hard in the throat. Both of Jennifer’s hands went for her throat. She choked and Cody grabbed the back of her collar, dragging her to the sofa.

Looming over the coughing girl, Cody said, “You’re going to treatment.”

Betty never imagined her younger daughter would attack her. The corroding effect of drugs even when one wasn’t on them shocked her. She would have died herself before lifting a hand against her own mother.

Jennifer started bawling. She choked a few times, then snarled at Cody. “You hurt me.”

“You hurt yourself,” Cody fired back. “Mom, how much is the treatment program?”