Chapter 4 #2
When the timer on the oven went off, Sierra moved the lasagne from the oven to the warming drawer.
She grabbed the wine out of the fridge on the way back, topped up their glasses and then sat back down and pulled another blank invitation from the stack.
She noticed Markus, bent intently over his task, his eyes distant.
‘Markus, why are you so quiet?’ Typically, he was a ball of unstoppable energy who could talk the ear off an auctioneer.
‘Yeah!’ Nina looked up at him, a frown creasing her brow.
They both watched him closely. Markus didn’t meet their eyes, only continued working on his invitation. ‘I don’t wanna be a downer,’ he said eventually.
‘No.’ Nina argued immediately, ‘This is the friendship circle. We share everything, the good, the bad, and the ugly.’
Concerned, Sierra poked him in the side. ‘Spill.’
‘Juan and I broke up,’ he said quickly, his words spilling into one another in his rush to get them out.
‘What?’ Nina demanded, clearly shocked. ‘Why?’
Sierra didn’t say anything. She just leaned forward and filled his glass to the brim.
‘I thought things were going well, you know,’ he started. ‘I mean, yeah, I’m gone a lot with work these days, but it’s always been good for us. Given us space to do our own thing and breathe a little – at least that’s what I thought.’
‘And he felt differently?’ Nina guessed.
Markus nodded. He didn’t cry but Sierra could see what it was taking him to hold his emotion back. ‘He said he wants more and that he’s not sure I can give it to him without sacrificing my work. And, worse, he said he doesn’t want me to have to work less. He wants me to want to work less.’
‘And you didn’t fight him on it?’ Sierra asked.
Marcus took a long drink of wine. ‘My work … God, I love what I do. And I am so good at it.’
‘You’re literally the most sought-after photographer in LA,’ Nina confirmed.
‘Your pictures are beautiful,’ Sierra seconded.
‘And although he wasn’t raised wealthy, per se, I don’t think Juan truly understands what my childhood was like. How hard. And poor. How degrading. I mean, I know that I could take less work and maybe enjoy life more, but there’s this dog on my heels …’
‘And every time you stop to rest, he bares his teeth at you,’ Nina added.
‘Exactly. Even though some part of me knows that I’m set, I still feel this urgency to work as much as possible just in case it all ends tomorrow. Staying relevant in Los Angeles is … insanely difficult.’
Nina nodded in understanding. ‘I felt the exact same way before I met Mav. And even though he keeps the dog at bay, I’m very aware that it’s still there.
Especially now that I’m taking a break from acting; I know that I need the rest, but I’m also terrified that there won’t be space for me when I’m ready to go back. ’
Sierra might not have understood exactly what they were talking about.
Unlike Nina and Markus, who had fought tooth and nail for their place in the world, Sierra had been raised with everything.
But she wasn’t completely ignorant of their struggle either, because she had grown up with Benji.
She had seen him fight his resentment for his parents.
She had watched him work like a mule, stubbornly and ceaselessly, even though the horse world wasn’t particularly lucrative unless you occupied the very thin layer at the top.
And she knew what it was, in an entirely different way, to have that dog behind you, waiting to bite.
And she knew what it was to lose your person.
Still, she didn’t console Markus. She left that to Nina, who covered his hand with hers and said, ‘We’re here for you. We’ll take it one day at a time.’
And to Poppy, who left her own seat to climb onto Markus’s lap and wrap her arms around him. ‘’S okay, Uncle Markus.’
Sierra put her pen down.
She picked up her wine and downed it in one go, drawing puzzled looks from Markus and Nina and a giggle from Poppy.
Without a word, she walked through to the lounge and turned off the record.
She pulled out her phone as she re-entered the kitchen, connected it to the portable speaker on the kitchen counter, and hit play on ‘Pink Pony Club’.
Markus narrowed his eyes. ‘Girl, you know this is my jam. How can I mope when my jam is playing?’
‘We’re done moping for today,’ Sierra stated as the opening notes sounded. She refilled her wine glass with zero thought to the fact that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and held out her other hand for Poppy, who immediately jumped off Markus’s lap to take it.
She momentarily paused the music when neither Nina nor Markus moved. ‘Okay, you two need to get on our level. We’re going to karaoke the blues away,’ she warned. ‘Up. Up!’ When they both stood, Sierra said, ‘Poppy, the mics!’
Poppy needed no explanation. She dragged a chair to the kitchen counter and pulled two wooden spoons and two spatulas from the holder beside the stove. She passed Nina a spatula, but when she came to Markus she asked, ‘Which one do you want, Uncle Markus?’
Markus sniffled. ‘The wooden spoon, baby.’
Poppy passed it to him and reclaimed her position at Sierra’s side.
‘Y’all ready? ‘Cause you can’t sing Chappell Roan half-heartedly.’
Markus undid the top button of his shirt. He reached for a dishtowel, flung it around his neck like a scarf, and then held the wooden spoon up. ‘Ready.’
Nina tossed her hip-length hair. ‘Ready.’
Sierra started the song from the beginning again.
As the piano intro started, she and Markus took off immediately, word for perfect word.
They carried the first three verses, but when the chorus hit, Nina and Poppy joined in, shouting, ‘Pink Pony Club!’ into their spatulas at the top of their lungs.
It hurt to watch her. As she sang and danced and laughed, Sierra looked so happy. She looked, Benji realized, like she used to, and for only a moment, he imagined what it would have been like to watch her goof around with their daughter.
As Nina and Sierra belted out the lyrics to ‘Pink Pony Club,’ Markus paused to twirl Poppy.
At Benji’s side, Mav leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms over his chest, and grinned like an idiot. ‘It’s not fair that I get to be this happy.’ He nodded in the direction of the little group. ‘Look at my girls, man.’
Benji gave him one solid punch on the shoulder. ‘If anyone deserves it, you do, Mav.’ But because he couldn’t stand to steal Sierra’s smile, he turned to go. ‘See you tomorrow.’
Mav straightened, reached out one hand to grip Benji’s arm. ‘Dude … Stay.’
Benji cast one last longing glance into the kitchen just as Sierra looked up and saw them. Her smile faltered, then died. She stopped singing. Her eyes, so bright just moments before, dimmed.
‘I can’t, I have some things I need to go over for tomorrow,’ Benji lied. With one last tap on the doorframe, he left.
He didn’t lament his luck or give the hollow feeling in his chest much thought – it was familiar by now. He knew that if he had stayed, Sierra would have tolerated him. But he didn’t ever want to be the cause of any more of her pain.
From the moment she had broken things off, he’d tried to give her space.
He’d taken to eating with the wranglers and avoiding the ranch house.
He’d given up spending every free minute with Mav.
He’d even stopped spending time with Poppy unless he couldn’t avoid it, or it was out of the house.
And, yeah, it hurt. He grieved for all those things he’d once had and lost. But he’d do it again, and more – for her.
He went straight to the wranglers’ cabin, walked past the team, who were gathered around the table, eating dinner, to the fridge. Benji pulled out a beer, twisted off the top, and took a long pull to try and ease the tightness in his throat.
It didn’t work.
How could things unravel so completely?
‘Hey, Boss,’ Skye called, ‘we’re gonna play poker after dinner if you want in!’
Benji considered it for a moment. Fleecing the others in a game of poker might turn his mood around, even momentarily, and he needed the distraction. Still, the idea of sitting there, fighting for a good mood, didn’t hold any appeal. ‘I’ll pass tonight. Gonna hit the hay.’
With one half-hearted wave, he walked through the bunkhouse to his room and locked the door behind him.
Alone again, Benji opened his sock drawer. He lifted out the tiny urn, cradled it in one hand.
He knew it was morbid, but he hadn’t had the heart to scatter Her ashes without Sierra. What if she eventually surfaced from her grief and regretted that she hadn’t been there, hadn’t had a say in where on Hunt Ranch their baby’s remains should be set free?
If there was a part of him that knew he wasn’t ready either, he didn’t judge himself for it. He had lost everything: his daughter, his woman, his family, his home.
So, the tiny urn wasn’t just filled with his child’s remains. It contained every secret, every heartache that Benji didn’t have anyone else to tell.
One day, he would open the urn and let it all go. But for tonight, he just whispered, ‘I caught your mom smiling today. And for a few seconds it was just like it used to be.’