The Fake Husband. Lynnette Kent
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day? Do you get to watch him ride Imperator? Were you there at the Olympics when he won the gold?”
“Do you always talk so much?”
She laughed. “I guess I do. Do you want me to leave?”
He’d noticed the glances coming their way from the jock table. “No, that’s okay.”
“Do you work with Imperator every day? Are you planning to ride him at the Top Flight Horse Trials in April? There are a couple of smaller shows coming up before then, too—”
He held up a hand. “Slow down, why don’t you? Nobody rides Imp but my dad, unless I steal him. So he’s not in shape to jump and probably won’t be by April and Top Flight. Which means he won’t compete.”
“What are you talking about? Why not?”
“My dad doesn’t ride much cross country these days.”
“I remember, he fell at the Adelaide Horse Trials, didn’t he? But that was months ago. He must be well by now.”
“His back still bothers him sometimes.” Andrew decided against explaining the rest. “So if he doesn’t ride, Imp won’t run.”
“You’ve got three whole months to get him in shape. I bet he’ll let you.” Her eyes got even bigger. “Or, maybe…I’m gonna get my mom to let me take lessons with your dad. Maybe he’ll let me ride Imperator.”
Andrew snorted in disbelief. “You think he’d let you ride Imp when he won’t let me? That’s a bunch of crap.”
She stiffened up. “It is not. I’m riding in the Top Flight trials. I could handle Imperator, even on my first lesson.”
“In your dreams. My dad doesn’t put lesson riders on Imp.”
Her chin went up. “Maybe he just hasn’t had anybody good enough.”
“Like I’m not?” He got to his feet. “You are so full of—”
“Hey, Erin.” Two of the blondes she’d been sitting with earlier walked up. “You’re going to the algebra-help session, right?” one of them asked her.
“Right.” Erin swung her legs over the bench and stood up with her back to him. “Let’s go.”
“Hi.” The blonde sent a smile in Andrew’s direction. “Are you new? I’m Cathy Parr.”
“Andrew Lewellyn.”
“Rhys Lewellyn’s son?” Cathy’s jaw dropped a little. “Awesome.” She stopped there, which won her major points as far as Andrew was concerned, and glanced at her friend’s frown. “What are you mad about?”
Erin hunched one shoulder, still without turning around. “Nothing. Let’s go, okay?”
Cathy shrugged. “Okay.” As she shifted her books in her arms, she looked at Andrew, then Erin, and back again. “Gee…you two kinda look alike, you know? Must be ’cause you both have black hair.”
“And those same light blue eyes,” the other blonde added. “You could be, like, twins. How cool is that?”
Erin snorted. “Then I’ll be a redhead by tomorrow morning. Come on, we’re gonna be late.” She stalked away and, with an apologetic tilt of her head, Cathy followed.
“Good riddance.” Andrew squashed the leftovers from his lunch into the brown bag, aimed a three-point shot at the trash can…and missed.
Muttering to himself, he walked over to pick up the bag before some teacher yelled. “Give me a break, Miss Erin All-Star. You’re gonna ride Imperator like I’m gonna play for the NBA.”
ERIN BOUNCED into the truck Monday after school. “Did you call Mr. Lewellyn today? When can I have a lesson?”
Jacquie steeled her nerves and shook her head. “No, honey. I haven’t talked to anybody since breakfast. Two urgent calls came in this morning and I’ve been working nonstop since then.”
The momentary silence was deafening. “I can’t believe you just blew me off.” That wide lower lip, so like her father’s, stuck out in a pout.
“I didn’t blow you off, Erin. I have a job to do, that’s all.”
With an exasperated sigh, Erin flopped back in the seat. “Great. Just great.” She sulked for the rest of the afternoon, sullenly doing her homework as she sat in the truck and refusing to get out at the two farms Jacquie had to visit. As they drove home in the dark, though, she sat up a little straighter.
“Can we stop at the drugstore? I need some notebook paper. And pens.”
Thankful that Erin was still speaking to her, Jacquie was glad to cooperate. At the first opportunity, she swung the truck into a shopping center parking lot. “Want me to run in?”
Erin shook her head. “I’ll get it.”
Jacquie handed her a ten dollar bill. “Why don’t you get some chips to go with dinner tonight? And maybe some cookies.”
“Um…” Erin’s brows drew together. “I might need more than this.”
“For chips and cookies and paper? I doubt it.” But she dug into her wallet and came up with another twenty. “That should do it.”
With a nod, Erin walked briskly across the parking lot to the big, brightly lit store. Jacquie had started allowing little solo trips like this as lessons in growing up for both herself and Erin. Still, her breathing stayed fast until she saw her daughter reappear on the sidewalk and start back to the truck.
“Here’s your change.” Erin handed over a surprisingly small jumble of bills and coins as she settled into her seat.
“That much for chips?”
“I realized I needed some other stuff.”
For the sake of peace, Jacquie accepted the explanation, though she suspected the bag Erin carried held more along the lines of makeup, maybe candy, than school supplies. Pushing for details seemed like a bad idea when they were already at odds.
But when, with an early good-night kiss, Erin disappeared into the bathroom as soon as her homework was done, Jacquie felt certain of her hunch. The shower turned on and off, and there was an extended period of blow dryer noise, followed by silence. She only hoped the new look wasn’t too extreme to wear to school.
Early the next morning, when she got her first glimpse of Erin’s makeover, the wooden spoon Jacquie was using to stir oatmeal slipped from her fingers to the floor.
“What…” Her voice squeaked like a rusty gate. “What in the world have you done? Your hair is…is…red!” A deep, dark, unmistakable red.
“I know.” Erin’s pixie grin hadn’t changed. “Isn’t it just totally awesome?”
“I…” Jacquie rubbed her scratchy eyes. “What possessed you to dye your hair?” At her feet, Hurry picked up the fallen spoon and carried it to her private space under the kitchen table for an episode of devoted licking.
Erin went to the mirror beside the door and fluffed the red strands. “I…I just thought it would look cool.”
“And you didn’t think you needed to ask my permission first?”
“It’s my hair.” She avoided Jacquie’s gaze in the mirror.
“You’re my daughter. That entitles me to an opinion about what you do with your appearance.”
“Come on, Mom. The color washes out in a couple of months.”
“A couple of months during which you won’t look like yourself.” Crossing the room to stand behind Erin, Jacquie turned the girl to face her. “I’m not happy about this, Erin. Why would you change the way you look?”
“I