Carolyn McSparren - Taking the Reins

She stood under the shower for five minutes to wash the dust and sweat off, washed her hair for the second time that day, then redid her makeup and put on a clean polo shirt and jeans. Her mother had always taken an afternoon shower and changed into fresh clothes. She said it was a carryover from the days before air-conditioning. Charlie had picked up the habit from her. “Sarah?” Charlie opened the office door and stood in the doorway with her hand on the knob. Sarah jumped and hit the escape key in one motion. Whoever she was on line with disappeared.

“Mother! You scared me spitless.” She wheeled in her chair and glared at Charlie. “You ooze around like a fungus.”

“Green and soggy, that’s me. Thought you were cutting down on the social networking.”

Sarah avoided her eyes and did that flouncy, hair-swinging thing. “I am trying to help you. I looked up all those people on Google and Facebook. Don’t you want to know what all I found out?”

“I would love to know what you found out,” Charlie said. “Thank you. But you ought to be outside, not sitting in here over a hot keyboard.”

“What else is there to do out here? Go to the mall or the movies with my BFFs? Last time I checked they were in Kansas.”

“Once school starts you’ll make plenty of friends.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Oh, right. Most of them have been together since kindergarten. They’re going to fall over to welcome the outsider. We should have stayed in Kansas.”

“Ah, Kansas, the center for sophistication in the known universe.”

Sarah opened her mouth to make another snappy comeback, then giggled. “Good one, Mom.”

Charlie pulled her up from her chair and Sarah hugged her. Charlie felt a surge of joy. She lived for these moments. She hugged Sarah back hard. Then she whispered, “I love you.”

The moment passed in a flash as Sarah slipped past her and down the stairs. Charlie followed more slowly. At least she’d said the words.

An hour later, Charlie helped the students set the food dishes on the table in the common room, and watched everyone find seats. All except Jake.

“Sean, where’s Jake?” she asked.

“I’ll take him a plate.”

“No, you won’t. He needs to join us at the table. That’s the rule. I thought he obeyed rules. No decisions necessary.”

“Charlie, he’ll starve before he comes down here. Don’t ask me why. I just know it.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” She took a deep breath. “I’m not going to get into a battle tonight I will probably lose, but Sean, would you talk to him? Convince him that sitting at the table with you all is not going to cause the end of Western civilization as we know it?”

Sean shrugged. “I’ll sure try, but I’m not guaranteeing it’ll do any good.”

They’d already worked out an informal seating arrangement. Jake at the far end, then Sean, Mary Anne. Mickey’s wheelchair at the other end, then Hank.

“I’m not joining you for dinner tonight anyway,” Charlie said. “Give you a chance to talk things over, get to know one another without either the colonel or me eavesdropping.”

“No bugs in the light fixtures?” Mickey said.

“Nope. Not yet, at any rate. If you’d load the serving dishes onto the trolley, Vittorio or I will come get it and put everything into the dishwasher in the house. Anybody need something or just want to talk to me or the colonel, push the button on the intercom and leave a message. I suggest you get to bed early. Tomorrow morning I’ll be rousting you all out at six o’clock.”

“No way!” Mickey groaned.

“You need help getting to bed?” Charlie asked.

“I’m not helpless.”

“If you do, push the button beside your bed.”

“Or holler,” Sean said.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “I can stand. I just can’t walk far yet.”

“Yeah, and when you fall, you flop around like a turtle on its back,” Hank said.

“Flopping around on your back in the dirt ought to be a real familiar sensation for you,” Mickey said. “At least I can stay on my feet for more than eight seconds.”

Hank flushed and opened his mouth to retort. Charlie was about to lambaste him when Mary Anne snapped, “Stop it! What is the matter with you, Hank?” She turned to Mickey. “You’re no better. Knock it off.”

“It’s a miracle, Hank,” Charlie said. “You’re missing half a foot and still manage to stuff a whole one into your mouth. Mary Anne’s right. Both of you, knock it off.”

Jake might have a point in not wanting to join the group for dinner.

“Sean, so you will take Jake a plate?” Charlie asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Sure better than at the halfway house.”

“Or the hospital,” Mary Anne said. “I love gazpacho.”

“The tomatoes and corn on the cob are from the farmer’s market in Collierville,” Charlie said. “The corn’s Silver Queen.” Her stomach rumbled. That sandwich at lunch had been years ago.

“Have one,” Sean said. “There’s plenty.”

“Thanks, but the colonel expects me for dinner.” She could see the lights of the big kitchen in the main house across the patio. Vittorio would be furious if she came in late. Charlie had come close to snatching an ear from the students’ platter, but managed to quiet the rumblings of her stomach. That sandwich at lunch seemed a long ago memory. The heat of the day was finally beginning to diminish as much as it ever did between Memorial Day and the end of September. It wouldn’t get cool enough to manage without air-conditioning even in the middle of the night, of course, but it was still cooler than daytime.

The heat flat wore everybody out and increased appetites at dinnertime. The colonel demanded the family sit down together and was adamant that the students do the same thing. Even after her mother died, he kept up the custom, although he and Charlie sometimes didn’t speak to each other from entrée through dessert. Of course, when he wasn’t around, which was often, Charlie could con whoever was looking after her into letting her grab a sandwich and leave.

For Sarah, used to running in and out between sport practices or hanging out with BFFs, the formality of evening dinner was a new experience. She endured it because she was eating Vittorio’s cooking and not Charlie’s. And at the moment she had nothing better to do than fool with the computer in the evenings.

Charlie’s mind hovered at the other dining table tonight and she only half listened to Sarah and her father bicker. As soon as she could, she escaped to check on her students.

She worried about Mickey. He might give Hank as good as he got, but Hank didn’t tease—he went for the jugular. Seeing Mickey must be a constant reminder of how close he had come to losing his ability to walk as well as ride.

In any case, it wasn’t acceptable.

Her father had explained to her her that Mickey wasn’t actually paralyzed, although the nerve damage to his back and hips was extensive. He had rods and pins in his legs where the bones had been fragmented, as well. Still, if Mickey kept at his strength training, he might eventually be able to dispense with the wheelchair and use braces and a cane full-time. Maybe giving Hank the task of getting Mickey on his feet would provide him with a vested interest in Mickey’s success.

According to the colonel, once he took his leg braces off, Mickey could pull himself up, stand and swing around to get into bed. He could handle bathroom chores and dress himself. But could he actually walk unaided for any distance with his braces? Charlie knew what his enrolment forms said, but then, Mary Anne had sworn she’d ridden horses, so who knew?

Charlie found the students’ dishes neatly stacked on the rolling cart in the common room, the kitchen clean and the table scoured. She rolled the cart back to the kitchen, where Vittorio and Sarah were loading the dishes from the colonel’s table into the dishwasher.