Wild Horses (33 page)

The physician, Dr. Russo, arrived with his wife, who carried a large bucket that held three live koi. It was covered with aluminum foil and sported a bow on the handle, and was handed to the host together with Mrs. Russo’s famous watermelon and basil salad.

“Hello, Jack,” Attila greeted the vet, taking his coat. The large man seemed to have filled the foyer all by himself.

“So where is he?” Jack asked, looking around, hefting a carefully wrapped box.

“Hiding,” Attila sighed. “Let me go get him.”

Before Attila’s hand reached the bedroom door, Kai opened it from the other side. His expression was grim with resolve as he tucked a stray strand of coppery hair behind his ear.

“Are you all right?” Attila asked in a hushed voice.

Kai nodded.

“Almost everyone is here. As soon as Tibor arrives, we can fire up the grill.”

Kai swayed in place. “We are having a barbecue?”

Attila gave a minute shrug. “Yes. With a group this large, I thought it would be better than reserving a room at a restaurant….”

“A restaurant?” Kai paled. “I shudder to think how much that would cost.”

Attila’s hand snaked around Kai’s waist. “I know you would feel overly conscious of that, and therefore, we are staying here. Get ready to have a good time.”

K
AI
felt trapped. The crowd was milling about only one room away, and Attila had an arm around him as though to keep him from bolting. Step by step, he let Attila lead him toward the source of all that activity.

He saw Rita first. Even in heels, she was short, and her summer dress accentuated the way her hair was bobbed, reaching right under her chin. “Happy birthday, Kai,” she said with a smile. “I brought you a cake, but we’re still waiting for someone.”

“Uh… thank you.” Kai forced himself to meet her eyes. She was, after all, Attila’s older sister. Others heard his voice and turned to him, and suddenly Kai realized the whole affair wasn’t as bad as he had thought it would be because he knew all of them from up the hill. Only the women dressed up, their effort lending the occasion a festive air.

“Hi, Hal, Brent,” he said. “Where’s Naomi?”

“She’s outside with the rest of the rug rats,” Brent quipped, as though his recently acquired learner’s permit disqualified him from the company of the running, squealing kids outside. They all turned when the gravel crunched outside, and Attila headed for the door to open it.

Kai joined him along with everyone else. They watched Tibor get out of the driver’s side and then come around, open the door, and help someone else exit the vehicle. A tall, white-haired man emerged, followed by his walker. Tibor hoisted the walker, holding out his arm for Ivan Keleman, who grasped his elbow and walked with him, step by careful step, all the way to the house.

From the way Attila greeted his grandfather, the old man’s presence was no surprise to Kai’s lover, and Kai pressed his back against the wall, watching the family greet the newest arrival. He was surprised at feeling faintly jealous and out of place, until the old man’s eyes turned to search out Kai’s tall figure.

“There you are! Happy Birthday, Kai Alewright!”

“Thank you.” Kai was surprised to see the old man outside of his retirement home. “I… I… it’s nice of you to come.”

“I insisted, my boy. Take me up to the stables before it gets dark, why don’t you? My old eyes need all the light they can get. Surely we have time before dinner?” Ivan Keleman turned toward his granddaughter, who was, as far as he was concerned, in charge of the festivities.

“Go ahead, Grandpa! Kai, I want you to drive him up there. It’s quite a walk.”

“All right.” Kai nodded. “Attila, may I have the car keys, please?”

Attila fished his keychain out of his pocket. “We should get you your own keys,” he said. “Do you want me to come along?”

“No, Attila… Kai will show me around. I want a guided tour by the man of the hour, and I’m not willing to share.”

K
AI
took Mr. Keleman up and down the barn, introducing all the horses and dispensing baby carrots.

“That saddle… the Western one, is it still in the tack room?” Ivan Keleman asked.

“Sure is,” Kai said.

“And Dusty, we met him over there. He’s the horse Attila thought I could ride?”

“Yeah. He’s reliable and won’t fight you much.”

“Then, my boy, would you saddle up Dusty for me? I am wearing my riding boots.” Old eyes turned toward Kai with a conspiratorial look.

Kai gave the old man a dubious glance, trying not to stare. “I don’t know… can you ride, if you have trouble walking?”

“Use it or lose it, my boy. There’s only one way to find out.”

“You really feel up to this?” Kai asked, assessing the man’s sense of balance and the way he stood, barely leaning on the wall next to him.

“I would not have asked otherwise.”

“All right. Here, let me get you a folding chair and I’ll tack him up for you.”

A
TTILA
was in the process of slicing patterns into the hot dogs when his cell phone chimed in his pocket. He wiped his hand off and pulled it out.

Rita made a face. “We get together after such a long time—must you be taking care of business right now, Attila?”

Attila frowned. “It’s Kai.” He answered the phone and his body went still when he heard Kai’s voice on the other side. “Don’t do anything. Don’t do anything until I get up there.”

He hung up and looked back at his sister, who now shared his sense of alarm. “Kai called me to say that he saddled up Dusty for Grandpa, and wanted to make sure it’s all right with me to let the old man ride.”

Rita whistled. “That man’s like a child. Intractable. Incorrigible. Didn’t I tell you not to get his hopes up back then? I did! But no, you had to go and buy a new saddle….”

Attila marched right by her, escaping out of range of her harping. “Everyone! I am going up the hill. Grandpa will try to ride again.”

“All
right
!” Brent whooped. “I told you guys he should give it a try!”

They all poured into the backyard and rushed up the grassy path, taking a shortcut to the barn. Some went to cheer the old man on, others were resolved to reason with him.

K
AI
stood in the arena, holding Dusty’s reins while Grandpa Keleman sat on the mounting block.

“You shouldn’t have called Attila,” the old man fussed. “He’ll get his panties in a bunch over this, and Rita will be even worse.”

“He and I are partners now, though,” Kai explained. “I am obliged to inform him of everything that has changed, and you riding would definitely apply, Mr. Keleman.”

The old man gave him a squinty look that boded ill, and when he saw Kai return it without his former trepidation, he cackled. “Very well, then. You may as well call me Grandpa like the rest of the kids.”

Something warm and sweet began to blossom within Kai’s chest, and he found himself smiling from ear to ear. “Okay then, Grandpa.” Then he sobered up. “But you realize that if you fall, you’ll probably break something and die of complications, right? And I’d be right pissed off if I got myself a new Grandpa, just to lose him few minutes later.”

Ivan Keleman tugged on the strap of his riding helmet. “True, you are probably right. Although to be fair, I have lived far too long as it is. I outlived all of my classmates, did you know? None of my old friends are around anymore. What good is it to keep sticking around when green Jell-O on Wednesdays is one of the highlights of your existence?”

Kai was about to reply when Dusty shifted, alerting him to the presence of a crowd by the door of the arena.

“Grandpa, you can’t be serious,” Rita said, her hands on her hips. “Killing yourself on Kai’s birthday is hardly a way to behave at a party!”

Attila only walked up and helped the old man stand. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“Yes. Yes I am.” There was not a hint of doubt or hesitation in the old man’s voice.

“All right, then. A promise made is a debt unpaid.” Attila took Dusty’s reins and gave a command, his fingers sweeping toward the ground on a steep diagonal. The horse looked at Attila with considerable irritation before he folded his forelegs, then his hindquarters, and lay down. Attila lent his elbow to his grandfather, helping him over the uneven ground.

“You can mount. Rita, click the lights on, would you?”

Eyes seething and steam ready to shoot out her ears, Rita spun on her toe, soiling her high heels with the sawdust bedding of the arena. She clicked the switch on the wall and the lights came on. Kai noticed she relaxed somewhat as she moved farther away from the horse. Then Attila asked Dusty to stand up, and the horse did so. Grandpa Keleman sat up in the saddle, his toes fishing for the stirrups.

Grandpa Keleman looked tall and twenty years younger as he took the reins and pressed his heels into Dusty’s sides, asking him to walk.

K
AI
kept Grandpa Keleman company in the pool while the rest of the family took care of dinner. Some dishes were homemade, others came from the prepared food section of the supermarket. Only the hamburgers and hot dogs were fresh.

“I can’t believe you could do all that from a Western saddle,” Kai said, envy mixing with admiration in his voice.

Grandpa Keleman tucked a plastic noodle under his neck, using both arms to hold on. His white hair made a halo in the center of the pool, surrounded by floating candle lights. The strings of lights seemed brighter on the shrubs and trees as the sun set and darkness began to fall. “I used to be good once,” Ivan Keleman allowed. “You could be good like that, too.”

“The way you made Dusty go sideways and backward, that was really awesome. He does that for me too, but never when I want him to.”

The old man chuckled. “Give it time. And give Attila time. He can be a bit of a cold fish when the mood sets up on him.”

“Cold? No… just tired.” Kai frowned in thought. “I think he feels the weight of his responsibilities too much.”

“He would appreciate if someone helped him with all that,” Ivan Keleman said. Then, out of the blue, he turned his old eyes toward Kai. “Do you love him?”

Kai swallowed dry. “Yeah.” He remained silent for a moment as they enjoyed the buoyant water in the dark. “So much, it scares the shit outta me.”

The old man’s smile was barely visible in the pale flicker of the floating candles. “I think we’re being called for dinner,” he said, changing to a neutral topic. He stood up and walked toward the stairs, his steps balanced by the floating noodles.

“You okay there?”

“Yes. Although I shall pay for my adventures tomorrow.”

When everyone was done with dinner, Rita brought out an ornate chocolate cake. The top was decorated with two tall candles and six short ones, all lit.

“Twenty-five, and one more to grow on,” Attila explained. “It’s a family tradition.”

They all sang the usual Happy Birthday song and Kai just sat there, lips pressed together and emotions barely contained. He could not believe these people—strangers, really—would go to such exquisite effort on his behalf. They had known him for barely the length of the summer. He wanted to pinch himself to see if it was all just a dream, but he didn’t dare in case he woke up.

“Blow them out, Kai!” Hal shouted, and Kai gathered his breath, made his wish, and did so. With that one breath, and with that one wish, he knowingly and consciously took himself away from everything he once knew. He was now ready to enter the world of Attila Keleman and his crazy, unpredictable, amazing family.

The cake was incredible—he had never tasted anything quite like
it.

“Thank you, Rita. I don’t know what to say.” He smiled at the short woman, beginning to understand the pain she must have felt all those years ago when it became apparent that horses would never be a part of her future.

“Don’t thank me yet.” She laughed. “As long as you keep my brother happy and healthy, you’ll be good in my book.”

“What about the gifts?” Brent called out from across the table.

And there were presents—and an envelope with Cayenne’s papers and vet records from Attila.

“This is just a printout,” Attila said. “The originals will come in a few weeks.”

“Thank you,” Kai said and, lacking for words, he leaned over and kissed the other man on the lips. There were a few hoots and a smattering of applause, and there were also averted eyes full of veiled embarrassment.

Kai opened a big box that Hal handed him. “There’s nothing like having your own riding helmet,” Hal mumbled.

Then there were riding gloves from Brent, an excellent but no longer used competition-quality saddle from Tibor, and a tailored riding jacket from Grandpa Keleman.

“Try it, Kai. I used to have just about your build back then.”

Kai slipped the garment over his bare skin.

“It looks good in the shoulders,” Rita said, inspecting the jacket with an experienced eye. “You can have the sleeves shortened, but that’s about it.”

Attila looked at it a little closer, noting the embroidered crest by the left lapel. “Is this the one?” His voice fell in an amazed hush.

“It needs a job to do, Attila, and you have your own.”

“I take it there is a story behind his jacket?” Kai asked.

“That’s the one I always wore when I knew I would win,” Ivan Keleman said, straightening up in his chair. “Attila earned his own already. May you ride in health.”

Kai fingered the linsey-woolsey material. The elegant herringbone weave of the vintage wool-and-linen fabric felt sturdy yet soft, and not too hot. He was about to launch a question regarding the jacket’s history when the doorbell rang.

“Hold that thought,” Attila requested, disappearing into the house. He soon returned with two policemen in tow. Attila addressed the gathering with solemn dignity.

“These two officers are here searching for Lindsey Putney. She appears to be missing.”