Chapter 20
Chapter 20
For some reason unknown to us all, we sit through the entire performance. Maybe it’s a car crash reality TV thing, or maybe our brains haven’t caught up with our eyes. Who knows? But here we sit, watching as Seth and his hobbyhorse complete their first course then prance out of the arena before the next group gallops into view.
“What just happened?” Erin’s eyes are huge as she looks from Sophie to Jason and then to me.
“I’m not really sure,” I reply, too stunned to put my thoughts into words.
“Yeah. It was.” Sophie pulls a face. “It was not what I was expecting.”
“Well, I’ve learned something tonight,” Jason says.
“What?” Sophie asks.
“Darcy’s boyfriend likes to ride stuffed animals on a stick in front of tweens,” he says with a laugh.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I protest.
“Well, not now, he’s not,” Sophie says with a laugh that comes out as a pig-like snort. Her face grows serious. “Unless you want him to be?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think he can come back from this as far as I’m concerned.”
“Am I allowed to say that he looked really funny?” Erin presses her lips together, her eyes shining. She’s working hard not to laugh. Before long, she’s begun to giggle, and it spreads among us all like wildfire on a hot summer’s day. All four of us clutch our sides in laughter, and people in the audience begin to turn and glare at us.
“I think we need to leave. Now.” I pop out of my seat, my hand over my mouth in a vain attempt to stifle more laughter, and hurry toward the exit, trailed by my friends.
Once outside, a fresh wave of laughter rocks us. But for me, after a while, a hollow feeling begins to grow inside. I’d pinned my hopes on Seth. I thought he might be one of the good ones. Attraction is such a fragile thing. You can spend hours and hours building it up, imagining what it would be like to be with a guy, hoping he feels the same way, too. And then along comes a sharp, pointy thing that pops the bubble, and the very last thing you want to do is be within a mile of that guy.
It’s fair to say any bubble I had for Seth has been well and truly popped by a stuffed toy on the end of a stick, currently being held between his legs as he leaps over jumps.
“I think we all deserve a stiff drink after that experience,” Jason announces. “Don’t you?”
There’s a murmur of agreement among my friends.
Although a glass of Chardonnay could help to wash away my sense of disappointment and confusion, I scrunch up my nose. “I think I need to go talk to Seth first.”
“To compliment him on his show jumping skills?” Sophie asks with a grin. “Or to pet his horsey?”
“At least he was good,” Erin says. “He might win the whole thing.”
“Of course he will,” Jason scoffs. “He’s a grown man competing against kids. There’s no contest.”
I scrunch my eyes shut. “Please don’t remind me.”
Sophie stretches out her hand. “Give me the keys. We’ll wait in the car until you’ve talked to him.”
I rummage around in my purse and pull my keys out. “Maybe he did it as a dare?” I know I’m grasping at straws here.
Erin smiles kindly at me. “You may be right, Darce. Or there could be actual living, breathing horses back there, and we’re missing him riding on one right now.”
“Is that a horse I see flying up there between the clouds,” Jason says, his upturned face looking skyward.
“The expression is about pigs flying, Christie,” Sophie says.
“I know. It was a joke. I was horsing around,” he replies with an eyebrow waggle.
Erin shakes her head. “Lame.”
“It’s a good thing you’re cute, Christie,” Sophie shakes her head, “because with jokes like those, there’s no way I’d be dating you otherwise.”
He scoffs. “Nice.”
“I’ll see you back at the car, okay?” I say, interrupting their repartee.
I make my way around to the back of the arena where I’m met with the woman who took our tickets on arrival. “Can I help you?” she asks.
“I need to get backstage. Is that possible?”
“Are you one of the moms?”
“Yes, I am.” I hope she doesn’t notice my nervous cheek twitch.
“Okay. Go ahead.” She pulls the door open, and I thank her before I step through it.
Backstage, the place is busy with people, from the kids to the parents, and a few adults in a variety of costumes. At least Seth’s not the only adult. I spot him talking with a man dressed in equestrian hat, tails, and boots, just like he is.
He looks up at me, his brow creased in confusion. “Darcy. What are you doing back here?”
I glance at the man at his side. Luckily, he gets the hint and melts away into the crowd.
“I, ah, came to see you,” I begin.
A whisper of a smile forms on his lips. “I can see that. The show’s not done yet.”
“I know.”
“I’m in the final.” He beams at me.
“That’s . . . awesome.” What else can I say?
“This is Fin,” he says, brandishing his hobbyhorse at me. “You can pet him if you want.”
Oh, this is getting weirder and weirder by the minute.
I reach out and touch Fin’s synthetic mane with my fingertips before I hastily pull them away.
Suddenly, that whole weird conversation about what you see when you look at a garden spade makes sense. Seth wanted me to see a horse when I looked at his hobbyhorse. A real, living, breathing horse. I shake my head, my mind whirring. Fin’s the spade.
He studies my face. “What’s up?”
“I, ah, I wasn’t expecting Fin to be, well, what he is.” I gesture at his hobbyhorse.
He narrows his eyes. “You’re not into this.”
I shake my head slowly.
“You know, hobbyhorsing is a really great thing. It helps a lot of people. Kids with a lack of confidence. People suffering from depression. All sorts of things. It’s helped me get over the loss of Han Solo.”
I bite my lip as I recall the photograph of the beautiful Thoroughbred he showed me on our first date. “Was Han Solo like Fin?” I ask tentatively, wondering just how deep his delusion actually runs. I mean, did he photoshop himself onto an image of a horse? After what I’ve witnessed tonight, it’s definitely not outside the realm of possibility.
“In what way?”
“In a . . . real way. You know, was he . . . alive?”
“Of course he was,” he scoffs. “I’m not insane, you know.”
“No. No, you’re not,” I say as earnestly as I can. Inside, I’m screaming “you pretend to ride horses with a bunch of kids!” at the top of my lungs.
He stands Fin the hobbyhorse up on its end (Feet? Foot? Hoof?) and fixes me with his gaze. “I can tell you’re dubious, and I get that. Really, I do. This whole world is new to you.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“Do you know what I’m thinking?”
The correct question should really be, do I want to know what he’s thinking?
“What?” I ask cautiously.
“With your lovely long legs, we could compete together as a couple. Two horses, in perfect synchronicity. We would take the Hobbyhorse Couples’ Competition by storm.”
I widen my eyes. There’s a hobbyhorse competition for couples? I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Seth. I can’t see it happening. I don’t think we should see one another again.”
His face is aghast, like he really did not see this coming. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“I’m sorry, Seth.”
“But . . . your lovely long legs.”
I take a step away from him. “Sorry,” I repeat before I turn around and hurry away.
“By storm, Darcy. We could take the Hobbyhorse Couples’ Competition by storm ,” he calls after me.
I’m already pushing through the door, my hopes evaporated, my need to get as far away from Seth and his stuffed toy horse almost overwhelming.
——
Erin insists on driving my car back into the city so that I can focus on de-hobbyhorse-ifying (her word, not mine, because that is so not a word, even if she insists it is). I sit back in the passenger seat and try my best to find the positive in what just happened. But really, what is the positive here? My attraction to him was tentative at best, and the guy I’ve been dating likes to jump over things holding a stuffed toy on the end of a stick between his legs. I’m sure there’s a hobbyhorser out there who’s Seth’s perfect match, but I’m not that girl. And now here I am, humiliated once again.
“He seriously asked you to compete with him?” Erin asks incredulously.
“Yup. Apparently, I have, and I quote, ‘lovely long legs.’”
Jason gives a knowing nod. “Ah, the L-word trifecta of limbs. Lovely, long, and legs.”
“Clever,” Sophie says. “I bet he wanted you two to be the Tom Brady and Giselle Bündchen of the hobbyhorse world.”
“You’re only saying that because of those lovely long legs of hers,” Jason quips.
“You are right,” Sophie says. “Darcy’s legs are lovely and long.”
“Can we please quit talking about my legs, guys?” I ask. “It’s not helping.”
“Why not? I’ve heard they’re lovely.” Jason nudges the back of my shoulder from behind me, and I let out a puff of air.
“I guess I’m disappointed. I thought he was one of the good guys, but it turns out he was just another weirdo. I don’t get it. Nothing came up when we vetted him. How did this even happen?”
“That’s true. I think we might need to tighten the process,” Erin says. “First that food-obsessed guy got through for Sophie, and now a hobbyhorse rider for you. Who knows what I’ll end up with if this unfortunate trend continues?”
“Don’t forget Davy Crockett the merman,” Jason interjects.
Although I’m pretty sure a grown man with a hobbyhorse habit trumps mermen right now.
“We need to find Darcy another date, stat,” Jason says. “Only this time, I’ll be in on the Vetting Process.”
“Because you’re so good at it?” Sophie challenges.
“I’m glad you noticed,” he replies with a wink.
“You guys are totally right. Get back on that horse, girl.” Erin realizes her blunder and adds, “Sorry, Darce.”
“No more dates,” I say firmly, my mind made up. “Why would I want to put myself out there once more, only to get knocked back? I’m not a masochist.”
“You don’t mean that.” Sophie is certain. “I had those crappy experiences, but I ended up with my Prince Charming.”
“Aw,” Jason pulls Sophie in closer to him and plants a kiss on her lips, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Sophie murmurs in reply.
“Geez, you two. Inappropriate,” Erin complains from the driver’s seat. “We’ve got sad and lonely single ladies in the car here.”
“Thanks, Erin. It’s great to be referred to as sad and lonely,” I grump.
Erin slows the car and backs it into a parallel park like a pro.
I peer out the window. “Where are we going for a drink?”
“Cozy Cottage Café,” Erin announces. “We can catch the end of the Friday Night Jam. Wine, food, and entertainment. All of which will take your mind off hobbyhorses tragically named after characters from Star Wars.” She leans closer to me and adds, “Alex isn’t working here tonight, so you won’t have to deal with all that, too.”
I give her a weak smile. “Thanks for having my back.”
“Always,” she replies.
We get out of the car and enter the café. Inside, the place is filled with chatter and music.
“Shall we get a table?” I glance nervously around. Even though I know he’s not working tonight, I half expect Alex to jump out and laugh at me and my hobbyhorser date. Or ex-date. Whatever.
“There’s one,” Sophie says, immediately making her way to the back of the café where a group of people has recently vacated a table.
We follow her and take our seats.
“I’ll get the drinks. Who’s having what?” Jason looks at me. “Whatever you’re having, Darce, I’ll make it a double.”
I know alcohol can’t blot out the memory of my humiliation, but I give him a weak smile. “Thanks, Jas. Chardonnay, please.” Jason leaves the table, and the conversation inevitably returns to Seth the hobbyhorser.
“I thought hobbyhorses were a tween thing,” Erin says.
“I saw a documentary about it once. It’s big in Finland, right? OMG,” Sophie exclaims. “Seth is Finnish, right?”
“Yes,” I groan. “Can we not talk about it now? I’d really rather like to forget about Seth and his hobbyhorses.”
“Sorry, babe,” Sophie says.
The band returns to the makeshift stage, and the lead singer announces their next song. As they play the opening bars, Sophie nudges me. “Oh, no. Alex just walked in.”
I don’t know why I thought Alex wouldn’t turn up tonight. Because of course he does. He was always going to. See me at my lowest, watch me struggle through my dashed hopes. Not that I think he’d do that anymore, not after the way we opened up to one another at the gallery this afternoon. But I did make a big deal about going to see Seth ride his horse.
With my heart thudding and my insides twisted, I watch as he strides across the floor to the counter. He looks as he always does—confident, in control, and comfortable with where he is in life. Well, other than when Chetana rears her impossibly beautiful head, that is. He looks . . . well, then I want to collect him in my arms and wipe away his heartbreak.
“Are you all right to see him? We could leave,” Erin says, interrupting my thoughts.
“It’s fine,” I reply, even though I know it’s not. “He has every right to be here.”
“I’m sorry, Darce,” Sophie says. “I figured he wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t working. I guess he was at the gallery next to High Tea.”
Of course. That’s where he would have been, still working on the exhibition while I found out the guy I’m dating is a weirdo. “You two are so sweet, but really, I’m a big girl. I can handle seeing Alex. We’ve, well, we’ve made our peace, I guess.”
Both sets of my friends’ eyebrows shoot up.
“You have?” Erin asks.
I nod. “He apologized for what he did in high school. Everything’s good between us now.” I sound a lot more convinced than I feel. Seeing Alex right now, knowing what a big deal I’d made of going to watch Seth show jump, could well twist the knife of mortification just that little bit more.
I don’t have to wait long to find out. He and Jason arrive at our table, and Jason passes me my drink as Alex pulls up a chair and sits right next to me. I look at him out of the corner of my eye and brace myself.
“Hey, Darcy,” he says gently, his features soft, his eyes…what? Kind?
I study him more closely. Yup, definitely kind. Really, I don’t know why I thought he’d be anything but. I guess bad habits die hard. I’ve hated Alex for so long now, I’m used to expecting the worst from him. But this is the all-new Darcy and Alex Show. We’re good now.
Part of me wonders whether I’ve been wrong about him, that maybe he’s always been like this, and I’ve never given him a chance.
“Hey, Alex,” I reply.
He places his hand on the back of my chair, his arm brushing my shoulder, and says, “I wanted to thank you again for listening to me talk about Chetana before. It really helped me. You’re, well, you’re a good person.”
I shake my head. “Oh, no. It was nothing.”
His gaze is intense when he replies, “It wasn’t nothing. It meant a lot to me.”
My throat tightening, I try out a smile. “We’re friends now, remember?”
He returns my smile, his handsome face lit up. “I remember.”
My heart squeezes, and I pick up my drink to take a sip.
“Jason told me about the horse thing.”
I chew on the inside of my lip. “He did, huh?”
“It sounds like a rough night. I’m really sorry. You liked him a lot, right?”
I nod, although I know it’s not true.
“I had something like that happen to me once,” he continues. “Well, it didn’t involve hobbyhorses, exactly, more like a girl pretending to be something she wasn’t.”
“That sucks.”
“It did at the time, but you know what? You’ll get over him.”
Warmth spreads from my belly up across my chest as I look up into his soft eyes. “Thanks.”
“I had to google what a hobbyhorse is, you know.” He shakes his head. “What the heck is a grown man doing running around with a stick between his legs. It’s for kids. And that stick is right next to some serious equipment. One wrong move . . .”
I let out a laugh. “Right?”
“See? You’re laughing about it already.” He takes another sip of his beer. “I finished doing what I could next door. This beer is my reward.”
“You’ve been working there since I left?” He nods, and I glance at my work and do a quick mental calculation. “That was three and a half hours ago.”
“I ducked out for pizza at about seven.”
“Well, I’m glad you got to eat at least,” I say, sounding like I’m his mum.
“Thanks . . . Mum .”
We share a smile that feels so amazing, it spreads from my face right down to the tips of my toes.
He drains his bottle of beer and plunks the bottle down on the table. “Right now, I’m beat. I guess I’ll see you at the gallery tomorrow.”
He’s leaving already? After he’s been so kind to me, so un-Alex? But then, maybe this is the Alex he’s always been, and I never gave him a chance? Maybe this is the guy my friends see when they tell me what a great guy he is, the guy I saw tonight at the gallery?
“But—” I clamp my mouth shut before I say anything else. A part of me wants him to stay, the part that’s thrown caution to the wind, that’s tired of denying how I feel about him. The dangerous part that will only get me hurt.
He’s in love with someone else.
I nod at him. “See you tomorrow.”
He flashes me his smile before he says goodbye to the rest of the group and leaves our table. When he reaches the door, he turns back and gives me a quick chin lift before he disappears out of the café and onto the sidewalk. I watch the door close over behind him, a heavy, sinking feeling filling me up.
Oh, no. I recognize that feeling, and it’s the last thing I could ever, ever want to happen. It’s a total and complete disaster of epic proportions. My throat tightens as something big contracts in my chest.
I’ve fallen for Alex.