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The next few weeks, Mark and I prepared exhaustively for the next competition. The rest of the crew had already returned to school, so new fall semester interns were populating the estates. Much of the tour business declined after the summer months, and the track closed for Friday quarter races after Labor Day. Dressage competition was in full swing in the U.S.; the next competition was September 22 and 23. It was the Fall Horse Trials at Malvern Park near Leesburg, Virginia. It was a two-day event that included dressage, show jumping, and cross country jumping events.
Mark had entered Derringer and me in a musical freestyle event. It was set to a shortened version of Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way.” Mark eliminated the introduction portion of the song as the freestyle was going to be done with the lyrics left in, timing at just a little over three minutes in length. Mark was also entering two horses from Sinclair Stables into a Quadrille event, combining the talent with two horses from a neighboring stable. A fellow trainer Mark had worked with previously had suggested they combine resources. It was a fairly hefty purse, even when split in half.
Mark wanted me to purchase a new riding outfit before the competition at Malvern. I ordered another pair of formal white full-seat breeches. Instead of the typical black dressage coat, I ordered a solid navy blue, with a matching derby hat. I ordered a new pair of black dress boots. I decided to go with white gloves instead of black; my hands were steady so there was no reason not to accentuate their movement. I ordered an additional white shirt and stock tie. I was told everything would be ready to pick up at the store mid-next week.
The tack shop was close to Denise’s salon, so I told Mark I wanted to run over there and see if she could fit me in for a trim and some fresh highlights. He told me to call him when I was ready. I spotted Denise as soon as I walked in the shop. She was cashing a customer out at the counter. Her eyes lit up upon seeing me.
“Hey sweetie, how are you?”
“I’m fine, Neecie, how about you?”
“No complaints here. Is this a social visit or business?"
“Both if you can fit me in?”
“No problem, sweetie!” Denise did my hair herself, her hands moving expertly as she spoke. “So, how are things going between you and Trey?”
“They’re not,” I replied, “he is barely around and when he is, we do our best to avoid each other.”
“That’s a shame,” Denise, said, shaking her head.
“Maybe it’s serious between Trey and Charlotte,” I said, wondering if Denise knew anything. I'd provided a nice segue for her.
“Please!” she hooted, “I already told you that's not happening. He’s not seeing anyone that I know of or else Ray would probably be aware of it.”
We changed the subject to more pleasant topics. I phoned Mark when Denise said I had about 10 minutes more under the dryer. She finished up with me, twirling the chair around so that I could take a look at the finished product. I paid the cashier on my way out, sending a generous tip to Denise. Mark stood waiting for me when I got outside, leaning up against his bright red truck. He saw me and let out a long wolf whistle, grinning like a kid.
“Stop,” I said, laughing.
“You’re gonna look great in the navy dressage coat with your new hair color.”
“Except that I'll have my hair back in that awful hairnet under my derby hat, remember?”
“I know, but I really think going with the blue on your jacket will lend itself well to the music we selected. Maybe we should think about dying Derringer’s tail?”
I looked at him quickly but saw that he was still grinning.
“Speaking of which,” I said, “I'd like to braid Derringer’s mane for this competition. Is that okay with you?”
“Just as long as you leave his forelock unbraided, I don’t want anyone mistaking him for a mare.”
I had Mark drop me back at the office when we pulled in to the drive at the Belle. I needed to pick up my pay. Becky was in the office on the computer when I went in.
“Hey,” she greeted, looking up, “oooh, I like what you did with your hair, very nice.”
“Thanks,” I replied, “just wanted to pick up my pay.”
“Just a sec,” she said, finishing up her task. She went to the safe, putting in the combination, and opened the heavy door. She rifled through some envelopes and handed me two.
“Your pay’s in one and your portion of the purse from a couple of weeks ago has been up here. I forgot to let you know. You have a piece of mail also.” She handed me a business-size envelope from a tray on her desk.
I saw that it was from Trey’s law firm. My name had been handwritten on it. I recognized it as Trey’s neat script.
“Thanks,” I said. “Have you talked to Gina lately?”
“Not since last week,” Becky said. “I let her know we’ve got another bumper crop of red wine ready soon if she wants her discount, she’ll need to get up here and help.”
“It would be nice to have her here again,” I replied. I was anxious to get outside and open the envelope from Trey.
