Cathy McDavid - The Family Plan

“What about games?” Jolyn asked, wondering if the lack of satellite TV was the only reason for Mandy’s dejection.

“Mrs. Payne doesn’t play games. She sews quilts.”

Jolyn finally located the level, which was buried at the very bottom. “Let me guess. You don’t like to sew quilts.”

“I like to dance.”

“I saw you at the recital last week. You were good.” When Jolyn crossed the yard to the concrete pad, Mandy and the dogs followed her.

“Are you a dancer?”

“Me? No.” Jolyn caught the attention of the closest finisher and pointed to a rough patch that needed smoothing. “I took lessons for a while, then quit.” She winked at Mandy. “I didn’t have your talent.”

“Dad says you and him used to show horses together. Mommy, too.”

“That’s right,” Jolyn said distractedly. With some difficulty, she knelt on the ground and lowered her head until it was even with the pad, visually inspecting it. “Your mom and I were best friends.”

“You were!”

Jolyn cranked her head around. “Your dad didn’t tell you?”

“No.” Mandy’s face reflected a mixture of surprise, delight and disappointment. “He said you were friends, but not best friends.”

“Since we were younger than you.” Jolyn tried to stand but her right leg refused to support her weight. Wincing with pain, she braced her hands on her bent left knee and waited a moment to catch her breath before trying to rise again.

“You okay?” Mandy asked.

“My leg’s a little sore today.”

Sore didn’t begin to describe how it felt. Jolyn had been pushing herself hard for weeks now—driving great distances, walking more than usual, tackling the repairs at Cutter’s Market and her new office and riding Sinbad whenever she had a spare hour.

“Need help?” Mandy took Jolyn by the elbow and tugged.

Despite the little girl’s spindly arms, she impressed Jolyn by managing to hoist her to her feet.

“Those dance lessons have obviously paid off.”

“What?” Mandy furrowed her small, freckled brow.

“I was making a joke.” Huffing, Jolyn smoothed the girl’s hair. “Evidently a bad one.”

“Dad says you hurt your leg when you fell from your horse but I’m not supposed to ask you about it because you might be…” She scrunched her mouth to one side. “Sensitive.”

Jolyn laughed. “You can ask me any questions you want. I don’t mind.”

“I’d rather you tell me about my mother.”

She really should get back to work, but the desperation on Mandy’s face tugged at Jolyn’s heart. She didn’t understand how SherryAnne could leave her child behind and visit only once during the last two years. Surely professional rodeo riders got vacations once in a while.

“You look like her.”

“Everybody tells me that.”

“It’s true.” Jolyn’s mother was deluding herself if she thought she saw something of Jolyn in Mandy. “But you act more like your dad.”

“He didn’t eat his vegetables, either?”

“Okay,” Jolyn conceded, “there may be a few differences between you.”

“And he likes horses more than I do. I’ve got a pony and everything, but I’d rather dance.”

No, Mandy was definitely not the least bit like Jolyn. “You’re nice like he is. And sweet. Kind of quiet, too, until you get to know somebody.”

SherryAnne had always been a loud whirlwind of a person, who existed at the center of her own world. She’d alternate between lavishing affection on her friends and snubbing them.

Her and Jolyn’s relationship had been a complex one—they were friends, but also rivals. Jolyn diligently kept that rivalry restricted to the horse arena, refusing to let it involve Chase. She’d clearly made the right decision, because she and Chase had remained close through the years.

The same wasn’t true for her and SherryAnne. They’d hardly spoken after SherryAnne’s affair with Steven was discovered and not at all since Jolyn left Blue Ridge.

“What did you and Mommy do together?”

Jolyn concentrated on the good memories, those before high school when Chase went from being a boy in their class to SherryAnne’s love interest.

“You probably won’t believe this but your mom adored Barbie dolls. I think she must have had five or six and a few of Barbie’s friends.”

Mandy’s face lit up. “I have Barbies, too.”

“When we were a little older, we used to go to Cutter’s Market pretty much every day. Mostly we rode our horses but sometimes we took our bikes or walked. You mom would buy the latest teen magazine and cut out pictures of all the cute boys. Then she’d tape the pictures to the wall behind her bed.”

“Really?” Mandy’s tone suggested she didn’t understand the appeal. “I have pictures of ballerinas on my wall.”

“I had pictures of horses.”

Mandy giggled. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

The question came so far from left field it gave Jolyn a start. “Yes,” she answered cautiously.

“Which,” Mandy persisted, “and how many of each?”

“One. A brother.”

Jolyn started walking the perimeter of the pad again, checking for defects. Mandy and her small parade of dogs kept pace alongside her.

“Does he live here in Blue Ridge?”

“No. Pineville.” Jolyn cast furtive glances at the back door, hoping Chase would appear and give her a reason not to talk about her brother. When he didn’t, she improvised. “Hey, I’ve got an idea.”

“What?”

“Is there a stick around here?” She scanned the nearby ground.

So did Mandy. “Why?”

“You’ll see.” They found a short stick that would work for what Jolyn had in mind. “Come on.”

She led Mandy to a three-by-five rectangular area jutting out from the concrete pad. It would become the patient entrance when the building was complete.

Jolyn stooped over and, using the end of the stick, scratched the date and Mandy’s name in the lower right hand corner of the rectangle.

“There. Now place your hand below your name and press really hard.”

When Mandy did as instructed, Jolyn laid her own hand over Mandy’s and applied more pressure. The print came out perfect, and Mandy squealed with delight.

“Can we do the dogs’ prints in the other corner?”

“Sure. What are their names?”

“Buzz and Lickety.”

Jolyn scratched the dogs’ names beside Mandy’s. Buzz and Lickety were less enthused about being immortalized in concrete than their young owner but eventually submitted. Jolyn figured if Chase objected, she’d grind out the names and prints and patch the area.

“What’s going on?”

Jolyn spun around to find Chase watching them. She’d been so absorbed with Mandy, she hadn’t heard him approach.

“We were—”

“Daddy, look!” Mandy chimed in while Buzz hobbled off, shaking his foot and whining indignantly.

Chase inspected his daughter’s handiwork and smiled. “Very nice.”

“If you want, I can fix it later,” Jolyn whispered.

“Are you kidding? It’s great.”

“Daddy, let’s do your handprint, too.”

“That’s okay, kiddo. Three’s enough.”

Mandy jumped up and threw her arms around her father’s waist. “I’m going inside to get Mrs. Payne and show her.” In the next instant, she was tearing toward the back door, the dogs on her heels.

Chase turned to Jolyn. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, you did. Mandy’s been having a tough go of things since her mother left. Each time I think we’re making headway, something happens to set us back again. Last night SherryAnne called to say she wasn’t sure she was going to be here for Mandy’s birthday next month.”