High Hurdles (60 page)

But later that night at Gran’s, when DJ brought up the message from Brad, Lindy shook her head. “I just can’t think of that right now. Let’s get these wedding plans finalized, then discuss it.”

DJ swallowed, glad her mother couldn’t read her mind. She slowly took her place at the table with the others. When would it ever be her turn? If it hadn’t been for Gran’s good fried-chicken dinner, she’d have been tempted to walk home, in spite of the rain.

Later that evening, when Joe teased Robert and Lindy about marrying the easy way and eloping, Gran rolled her eyes, Lindy nodded, and Robert said “no way.” He said he wanted all of his family around to help them celebrate.

Figures
, DJ muttered to herself. The least they could do is get this meeting over with in a hurry—she had homework to do.

“So let’s see how we’re coming on this wedding.” Gran flipped through the pages of a yellow legal tablet and picked up a pen. Since Lindy had so little free time between work and her thesis, she’d asked all of them to help with the planning. Gran read the first item on the list. “Wedding dress.”

“Done,” replied Lindy. “They said it would be ready next week, plenty early. Oh, DJ, how about if I pick you up after school tomorrow so you can come with me to be measured for your dress? That way all of the dresses will be ready at about the same time. I don’t want any of us to cut it close.”

“I teach my beginners’ riding class tomorrow after school.” DJ looked up from the horse she was doodling on the tablet in front of her.

“Is there any time you
can
go?” The sarcasm rippled across the table.

DJ set down her pencil. “After five, I guess, unless you want me to leave school early.”

“Sure, and go for a dress fitting smelling like a horse.”

Robert gently laid his hand on Lindy’s shoulder. “How about if I pick up DJ and meet you over there?”

DJ answered him with a shrug. “Fine with me. Then I can change before I go.”

Lindy nodded. “All right. But we should have gotten you shoes before now so we could get them dyed to match the dress. There might not be time.”

“If we can’t, they won’t show much under a long dress anyway.” Gran ran the fingers of her right hand through her still mostly golden curls. “By the way, I looked for a dress for myself today and had about as much luck as the sun shining tomorrow.”

“Wait a minute! Time out!” DJ used the two-handed sports signal. “What’s this about a long dress and dyed-to-match shoes? You know I don’t wear things like that.” DJ kept from shouting only with a supreme effort.

The look on her mother’s face turned from puzzled to purple. “DJ, this isn’t
your
wedding. I can’t believe you’d be so selfish as to . . . to—” Lindy cut off the thought as she shoved her chair back from the table and went to stand by the window overlooking Gran’s roses, her back to them.

DJ sank in her chair, guilt smacking her upside the head.
Good going, DJ. You’ve really messed things up now!

Chapter
•
3

“You know, DJ Randall, if you’d learn to keep your mouth shut, you’d do a lot better.”

The face in the mirror, mouth foamed in toothpaste, grimaced but didn’t answer.

DJ waved a blue toothbrush for emphasis. “If you want your mother to do something for you, it’d help if you’d first do what she wants.” She shook her head. Not only was there a pin-slim chance of her going to her father’s horse ranch for the three-day weekend, she was still booked for a dress-fitting and shoe-buying trip. Who cared if the shoes matched, for crying out loud?

She jabbed her toothbrush at the face in the mirror. “Now what would really look good walking down that aisle would be my jumping boots. I bet no one would notice them under my stupid dress.” She snorted, and a gob of toothpaste hit the mirror. Several others decorated the faucet.

She spit and rinsed her mouth. When would she learn to think before spouting off? The hurt look in her mother’s eyes still hung before her face. Even when DJ closed her eyes she could see it—only more clearly. Of course she would wear whatever dress her mother picked out for her. After all, Lindy would only get married once.

DJ thumped her fists on the countertop. “When will I get my act together?” She rinsed her toothbrush, then the sink. Glaring once more at the face in the mirror, she dried her hands and headed for bed.

But even after her prayers, sleep wouldn’t come. Finally, she threw back the covers and padded down the hall to her mother’s bedroom door. “Mom?” DJ tapped softly. If her mother was asleep, waking her wouldn’t be too helpful, either.

“Come in.” The tone of Lindy’s voice pierced DJ to the core.

Her mother stood in front of the window, back to the door. She didn’t turn.

“Mom, I’m sorry. Please forgive me for being such a selfish brat. I’ll wear anything you want me to—dyed shoes, even a hat and gloves.”
Please, Mom, please turn around. Say everything’s okay
.

The silence stretched till DJ felt like a rubber band about to snap.

Lindy rubbed her forehead, a sure sign a migraine was brewing.

Lord, please
. DJ could think of no other words.
Please help me
.

Lindy turned, her face shadowed since only the small lamp by the bed was on. “Darla Jean, I want this wedding to be really special for everyone. I know I get carried away sometimes, and I forget to communicate, to fill people in. But you have to do what I tell you. I’m your mother.”

DJ nodded. “I know.”
Please say you forgive me
. She clasped her hands behind her back so she wouldn’t pick nervously at her cuticles. “I’m sorry.”

Lindy shook her head. “Maybe this wedding, this marriage, really isn’t meant to be.”

“Oh, Mom! Don’t say that. You’re in love with Robert—anyone can see that. And he loves you. For pete’s sake, don’t quit now.” DJ crossed the space separating them. “Not because of me. Please.”

Her throat closed.

“It isn’t just you. It’s me.” Lindy tucked a strand of sleek hair behind her ear. She shook her head. “Well, this is my worry, not yours. I have a lot to think about.” She straightened her shoulders, and her sigh sounded like it came from the soles of her feet.

DJ shifted from one foot to the other. She still hadn’t been forgiven.

“How can I help you? I mean . . .”

Lindy shook her head again, her hair swinging across her cheek. “Just be patient with me.” She reached out, and DJ stepped willingly into her mother’s arms. As they shared a hug, Lindy whispered, “And, DJ, I forgive you. All these years, we’ve been more like sisters, with Gran acting as our mother. So forgive me when I forget I’m the parent now, will you?”

DJ swallowed hard, but the lump stuck. “I . . . I will—I mean, I do.” She swallowed again and leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “Gran says we need to learn to pray together.”

Where had those words come from? DJ started to pull away, but her mother’s arms held firm.

“I’m working on praying myself first. Guess I finally met something too big for me to handle on my own.”

DJ wished Gran could hear those words. She’d been praying for her daughter all through the years—and for DJ, too.

The silence between mother and daughter now felt like a warm blanket. DJ took a deep breath, her mother’s perfume filling her nose. “You always smell so good.” The whisper didn’t disturb the blanket a bit.

“Thanks, at least I get the image right. That has always been so important to me.” She shook her head. “But I get the feeling that succeeding in business isn’t the most important thing in my life now.” Lindy stepped back and cupped her hand around DJ’s jaw. “You are far more important to me than beating a sales goal or finishing school.”

“And Robert?”

“Definitely Robert, too. Along with two busy, funny, loving little boys.” She kissed DJ’s cheek. “Good night. You get some sleep now.”

“Night, Mom.” DJ left the room with the warm blanket of love still snuggled securely around her shoulders.

“Your father called again,” Lindy said when DJ got home from an evening meeting at the Academy two nights later.

DJ searched her mother’s face for the tense lines that usually arrived with such a phone call, but her mother looked relaxed. Was that a smile lurking in her eyes?

“Yeah?” DJ hoped against hope that everything was going to work out.

“He asked if you could spend the weekend up at the ranch . . . and I said yes.”

DJ flew across the kitchen and into her mother’s arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“I take it this is something you’d like to do?” The raised eyebrow meant her mother was teasing—as if DJ hadn’t picked up on that already.

“Only this much.” DJ spread her arms wide. She turned her head to look at her mother out of the corner of her eye. “But why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you being so nice about this? I mean, I know you don’t really want me to go.”

“You remember how agreeable you were last night, with no smart remarks about the dress or shoes? And when the woman doing the fitting said you’d need to return to try the dress on you didn’t even moan. That’s why.”

DJ nodded. How could she forget, with the still-sore tooth marks on her tongue from keeping her mouth shut? Much against her principles, she admitted, “We did have fun, huh?”

Instead of Robert driving DJ, Gran had picked her up and been there, too. Since Gran was working under another deadline, she didn’t have time to sew her own dress, let alone DJ’s. The three of them had gone out to dinner at DJ’s favorite Italian restaurant, something they hadn’t done together for a long time. Her mother had seemed like a new person. Never once did she suggest they needed to hurry home because she had to work on her thesis.

“Brad said he’d be here for you Friday about noon, so you can get your chores done both here and at the barn first. You don’t have any lessons to give on Saturday?”

DJ shook her head. “Bridget decided that since so many parents might take advantage of the three-day weekend, we wouldn’t have lessons.” She had thought to spend extra time with Major, but she knew Joe would take over for her. “You’re sure you don’t mind if I go up to Brad’s?” DJ cocked her head to one side, studying her mother. Where had the lines on her forehead gone? And the tight jaw?

Lindy shook her head, then halfway shrugged and raised her eyebrows. “Okay, that’s a fib. I do mind. I’d rather you stayed home.” She took in a deep breath, nodding slightly as she released it. “But Brad
is
your biological father, and as Robert pointed out, the man should have a chance to get to know the neat kid he created.”

DJ nibbled on her lower lip. “Thanks, Mom.” She thought a moment, then decided to add a question that had been bugging her. “You ever sorry you didn’t marry him?”

Lindy shook her head again. “We were too young, too caught up in ourselves. And now,” she paused, “now, if he’s as different a person as I am from when we were young, we’d never get along. Besides, can you see me helping to run a horse ranch?”

DJ laughed along with her mother. One thing for sure, Lindy Randall was
not
a horsewoman. Other than riding a horse once as a teenager, she preferred to view them from the edge of the arena.

“You might like riding if you tried it.”

“That’s what Robert says.”

“I know. And don’t forget that he promised the twins ponies as soon as we move into the new house.” DJ clasped her hands around a raised knee, deciding to take advantage of this time while they were actually getting along. “You ever think what it’s going to be like, living in that house all together?”

“Living in that house doesn’t scare me half as much as all of us in this one, even for a month.”

“Who’s going to take care of the twins between school and when you get home?”

“Gran and Joe said they would. The boys’ nanny will take a vacation until the new house is ready, then move in with us.” Lindy leaned forward and patted DJ on the knee. “That will make your life easier, too, you know. She does housework and even cooks.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” DJ could feel a grin spread from her heart to her face. “I won’t have to start dinner.” The grin grew bigger. “I can spend more time with Major.” She slapped her knees. “Yes!”

“Let’s not get carried away.”

DJ looked up to catch the teasing light in her mother’s eyes, a light she was just getting to know.
If only we could always talk like this
. DJ wrapped her arms around her knees again and rocked back. “It will be super strange to be part of a family with a dad and brothers and all. Better say good-bye to peace and quiet with the Bs around all the time.”

Now it was Lindy’s turn to clasp her knees. She rested her chin on one knee and looked at DJ from under her eyebrows. “We’ve got a lot of changes ahead of us.” The silence fell softly between the two of them as they sat in the dimness.

“You think we’ll be ready for them? The changes, I mean?”

“Well, one thing I learned in my thirty-some years of life: Changes don’t wait until you are ready. They just come.” Lindy reached out a perfectly manicured hand to tousle DJ’s hair. “You better get to bed, love. Morning always comes too soon.”

DJ kissed her mother on the cheek and headed for the door. She stopped just before stepping into the hall. “You told Brad I could come?”

Lindy nodded. “He said for you to call him in the morning. Leave a message for me on the machine so I know what’s going on.”

“I will. Night, Mom.”

DJ rushed through brushing her teeth and washing her face. Sure enough, another zit. Would she ever get lucky and find a flawless face smiling back at her? She dug the anti-zit cream out of the medicine cabinet and applied it to the red spot, making a face at the girl in the mirror. The temptation to pop the thing made her fingers itch. She inspected the spot again. Not ready for popping. She could hear her mother’s frequent lectures on popping zits as clearly as if she stood right behind her. DJ sighed, spun around, and headed for her bedroom. Studies called, but her bed screamed for attention.

Her final thought floated heavenward.
Please, God, keep it from raining tomorrow
. Friday! Her father would be there at noon to pick her up for the weekend.