Read Fan Girl Online

Authors: Brandace Morrow

Fan Girl (34 page)

When I get into the kitchen, Nola is making waffles in a brand new waffle maker that I didn’t know we had, and watching a talk show on the flat screen television that’s above the double ovens.

She smiles brightly when I walk in and tells me to sit down at the bar. Deklan is already halfway through his waffles and talking with his mouth full. “Guys are meeting me at the condo, and we’re moving all the clothes and shit this morning. Then messing with the basement for a bit. What are you doing today?”

I take a plate from Nola that she topped with fresh fruit and real maple syrup. “Eat up, darling.”

“Thanks Nola, but you don’t have to cook for us.”

“I know, dear. I just love this kitchen so much, and I know you have full days for the both of you today.”

Deklan looks at me and asks again, “What do you have planned for the day?”

I look at Nola and back at him. “Birthday shopping.”

His eyebrows raise. “What kind of birthday shopping?”

I shake my head. ”No way. I’m not telling you.”

He studies me for a second. “Okay. We’ll do it your way. But don’t spend a ton of money, I don’t need anything.”

I roll my eyes. He says, “Seriously. I don’t need watches or whatever else.”

“Yes, dear,” I tell him.

Deklan shovels the last monstrous bite in his mouth and gives me a sticky kiss on his way to the dishwasher. After loading his plate, he kisses his mom and waves. “Love you girls. Ali, text me when you get home so I know you’re all right.”

He leaves through the garage door and Nola and I look at each other. “It’s not gonna be that much money, I just want to get him a horse. That’s why he bought this house.”

“I know, baby girl. I think it’s sweet. Give him a few minutes to get out of the gate, then get to the fairgrounds.”

I nod and fill up a water bottle. It’s supposed to be really hot today. I already applied sunscreen earlier. I take my plate like Dek did and kiss Nola goodbye, before putting on my sunglasses and getting in my car.

~

I find a parking spot way the hell at the back of the field, and it takes me twenty minutes to walk to the main entrance. I’m already sweating and put my hair up in a messy bun on top of my head. I get a map and find the horse stables, then check the show times. Looking at my watch, I see that the Gypsy Vanner halter show started ten minutes ago.

Wanting to see Hettie and Mickey again, as well as Sean and Jonny, I quickly walk over to the arenas, searching for the right one. I find it ten minutes later and look in the stands for any of the four familiar faces. I see Sean and Jonny huddled together and holding hands. Rushing over I scoot my way into their isle and plop down. “Hey boys! Why do you look scared to death? And where are Hettie and Mickey?”

Jonny makes a stifled sob sound in his throat and Sean pats his hand. Neither look away from the arena that has their focus. “Ali girl... we’ve much to tell ya,” Sean says quietly.

I feel my brows come together in concern and look again for Hettie or Mickey. I don’t find them but I do see Sonny. I notice his handler is an older man with a terrible comb over of unnaturally black hair. You can see his bald scalp shining through under the lights of the arena. He’s also sweating profusely, his red and white striped button-down shirt has huge pit stains almost to his khaki pants.

“Who is that?” I ask them, appalled.

They just shake their heads, so I turn back to watch the judging. I watch the man with Sonny since that’s where Sean and Jonny seem to have fixed their anxiety, and notice that he keeps the lead on the halter pulled tight. Then I watch as Sonny shakes his head, trying to free himself, and step back. The man yanks the horse’s head around viciously. My breath catches and I flinch, but the boys don’t move a muscle.

When it’s Sonny’s turn to trot down the arena and back, he angles his body away from the man as much as possible and is almost walking sideways. The man gets mad and pulls the lead toward himself in a hard tug, and Sonny hops on his front legs like he’s getting ready to buck.

I grab Sean’s forearm and squeeze. That horse was gentle and sweet the last time I saw him. But then no one was treating him like this man was. Sonny continues to flick his head and try to pull away as the other horses take their turn, and then the judge places them in order of placement.

Sonny comes in last out of eighteen horses. As soon as the verdict is in, Sean and Jonny jump up and start pushing me down the aisle. They’re jogging to get to the stables while I try to keep up. “Sean! Jonny! I’m freaking pregnant!”

Jonny yells urgently over his shoulder, “Hurry lass, we can’t wait a second.”

We get to a stall, and I’m trying to catch my breath in the suffocating heat when I see the man and Sonny coming from the other direction. The man’s face is purple with rage, and his eyes are filled with hate.

“Fucking worthless piece of embarrassment. That’s all you are. I’m so sick of this shite,” he mutters. As soon as he gets close to the stall he snatches up a short crop that’s on a folding chair and rounds on Sonny. I gasp and cover my mouth as Sean and Jonny lunge for the lead that the guy dropped. They all but push the horse into the stall to get him away from the livid person in front of us.

He starts swinging and shouting at the same time. People stop to stare at the man abusing his animal. “Fucking. Worthless. Piece of shite! I’m going to make you into glue, you dumb motherfucker.”

Sonny lunges for the safety of the stall and Sean closes the door before the man can get inside. He got in a few good hits, and Sonny is breathing hard and throwing his head. His lead is still attached to the halter and lays limply down from his chin. His eyes are rolling to the whites, and he looks scared to death.

“What the fuck was that, and who are you?” I demand. I cannot believe he just hit a horse so maliciously in front of probably one hundred and fifty people.

He turns on me, and I belatedly realize he’s about six inches taller than me and a hundred pounds heavier, holding a horse whip.

“Who am I? I’m the owner, who the hell are you?” I also notice he’s got an Irish accent as well.

“My name is Ali. I met Hettie and Mickey a few months ago. They said if they were ever going to sell, they would call us.”

“More’s the pity they didn’t. Then I wouldn’t be saddled with this bullshite. They fucking died and left all this garbage to me.”

I gasp. Died? Both of them? I turn to Sean and Jonny who are both standing sentinel by the stall door. “Died?” Sean nods his head, his eyes filled with sorrow.

“Passed in their sleep round a month or so ago.” I think it’s immeasurably sweet that they passed together so peacefully, like in
The
Notebook
, but the man is gesturing widely with his hands, spittle coming out of his mouth.

“I’m done with it. Everything. The only reason I did the stupid show is because I couldn’t get the entry fee back and wanted to sell this demon.” He points to Sonny. My back goes up because I know that horse is not a demon.

“How much do you want for him?” I ask.

He looks me over from head to toe, and I see him zero in on my wedding set. He looks back up and his eyes are hard. “You give me one hundred thousand dollars right now and you can have everything. I’m done. Washing my hands of this filth.”

Jonny steps forward and says quickly, “Sold.”

I turn to him in shock but he’s looking at the man. Sweaty pits squints his eyes at Jonny and asks him while he packs up his small cooler by the wall. “What are you wanting her to buy for? You’re out of a job when I don’t have these beasts.”

I make a fist and lightly hold it for Jonny to tap and whisper, “Hired,” out of the corner of my mouth.

The guy pulls out a damp card from his wallet and thrusts it at me saying, “This is my lawyer, make it happen. If they aren’t gone by the time the realtor shows up, I’m calling the animal shelter.”

He stalks away and I turn to Jonny and ask him incredulously, “One hundred thousand dollars?!”

He turns to me and says quickly, “The truck alone is worth sixty, the horse trailer twenty-five. That’s not even including the horses. This is a fucking brilliant deal.” I turn back around and look down the aisle, watching the man slowly disappear while holding my head so it doesn’t explode.

“Does he know we get the truck?” I ask them. They both shrug, and I growl with frustration. I dig through my purse frantically and pull out the small spiral notebook I always keep in there and thrust it at them. “Write down a bill of sale, his full name, mine, detailing everything I just bought. I can’t just drive away with his truck. I’m going to bring him back. Write fast.”

I take off running again and panic when I can’t find the guy. I turn in two circles fast, then finally spot his shiny white head about to leave the grounds. “Sir,” I yell but he doesn’t hear me. I run faster. “Sir!” He’s heading for a line of taxis that only an L.A. county fair would have.

I try to remember what Hettie said their sons name was and yell out, “Donald!” He turns around sharply, and I sag in relief as I hurry toward him. “Sir, I need to get a bill of sale from you. I can’t just take your property.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s why I left the card.”

I shake my head. “Sir, for all I know you can accuse me of stealing and sue me for a ton of money. I already have the boys writing it out, all you have to do is sign. It’ll take thirty seconds.”

He growls and slams the taxi door shut. He brushes past me purposefully hitting my shoulder and sending a wave of body odor over me. I swallow the saliva that pools in my mouth and hurry to catch up with him. I stay behind a few feet, and don’t try to talk to him. The man is a complete asshole.

When we get back to the stable, I see Jonny writing and Sean pointing to the paper and talking. Both of them are noticeably going as fast as they can.

Donald holds out his hand and snaps his finger. “Give it here, boy. There’s a plane that leaves in two hours. I don’t have time for this.”

Jonny thrusts both the notepad and pen toward Donald, and I hear Donald murmuring, “I, Donald O’Brien, sell Ali Dawson, for the amount of one hundred thousand dollars two Gypsy Vanner horses, one Frisian blah blah blah.” He signs his name at the bottom and hands it to me.

I sign my name and as he’s turning away I say, “Wait! Sean and Jonny, you sign as witnesses and everyone take out your phone and take a picture of the bill of sale.”

Donald turns around and looks incredulously at me. I shrug. “I don’t have a copy machine here. You need proof of the sale for taxes, I’m sure. Not to mention I don’t want you saying I added something and took what I wasn’t supposed to.”

He sighs exasperated and pulls out his phone. We all take pictures of it at the same time after the boys have added their names. Donald wastes no time leaving, and I collapse in a folding chair nearby. I’m spent and it’s still early. I’m pouring with sweat, my dress is sticking to me, and my water is gone. Sean takes a box fan that was bungeed to the stall slats and directs it toward me. “Oh, that feels amazing.” I look over at them. “What did I just do?”

“We’ll talk about that later, lass. Now we have to pack up and get the rest of the animals off of that property. I don’t want him kicking anything. He’s a loose cannon, he is,” Sean says, then starts throwing things everywhere.

“Shit,” I say and then pull out the card Donald gave me. I send the picture of the agreement to his lawyer’s email address and then to mine as well.

Jonny gets Sonny out of his stall, who is doing much better now that Donald isn’t around him. I pick up the folding chair, and that’s all that’s left after Sean packs away his small carry-on suitcase of supplies and grabs the fan.

I follow the boys to a huge bright red truck that has double wheels on the back tires and an even bigger horse trailer with windows all along the sides. “You had the truck and trailer on the bill of sale, right?” I ask them.

They both nod and don’t waste time loading the horse in the back.

Sean turns to me and says, “I’ll write down the address for you and you can follow us to the house.” I nod and we part ways. I head to my car, quickly buying another water on the way from a vendor. When I get to my car, I put in the address in the GPS system and head out blaring Rolling Bridges to help my stress level.

Two hours later, I pull up behind the boys at an old one-story house with dying grass out front. The boys drive the truck toward a small barn with peeling red paint. They get out and meet me at the side of the trailer.

“Jonny and I talked on the way over, and we’ve got a plan. You have room for the horses, right? Did you buy a place?”

I nod. “We have almost twelve acres and an eight stall barn with an apartment on top. Do you need more than that?”

Sean shakes his head. “That sounds right perfect, Miss Ali. Let’s get the horses out, then grab the rest. We thought we would rent a U-Haul tomorrow and get the tack out.”

I nod as we walk towards the barn. “How many animals are we talking about?” I ask them.

Jonny turns to me. “There are six horses, three goats, two dogs, and a barn cat.”

I take a deep breath and hope I didn’t just bite off more than I can chew. “You guys are coming with them, right? I have a two bedroom apartment above the barn. You can live there. We can pay you. We can’t take care of all of that by ourselves.”

Jonny puts his arm around my shoulders and squeezes. “Don’t you worry yourself about that. We’ll not leave you stranded. We’ve been worried sick about this. It’s a sign from God you showed up today. We’re counting our blessings.”

We get the beautiful horses loaded into the trailer. Well, the boys do. I stand to the side and watch, since I don’t know how to do anything. There’s a huge black horse named Molly that the boys tell me is a Friesian, another high dollar breed of horse. Dora, Donka, Cher, and Sonny are Gypsy Vanners in all different colors. Frank is a white and grey Fell pony, another mini Clydesdale-looking horse, but shorter than the rest. His back coming to my shoulders.

After the horses are loaded, Jonny pulls out four dog crates and loads them in the back of the truck while Sean goes inside to pack some bags. I watch Jonny pick up and put three small goats in the crates. Only one of which has horns. The other crate is for a golden retriever that’s name is George and he goes quietly, wagging his tail. Tom the barn cat is huge, orange and white, peacefully watching the whole thing. He goes into the backseat of the four-door truck.

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