Broken Strings

Eighteen

Ginger

Art transcends cultural boundaries – Thomas Kinkade

"Where are you headed?" Drake asked as Ginger tried, rather unsuccessfully, to sneak out the back door. Her father was sitting at the kitchen table, leafing through the newspaper, but he looked up as she placed her hand on the doorknob.

She had been heading out to Bailey's for her second riding lesson with Jay Dawson but her parents couldn't know that. Especially since they were each likely to accidentally let slip to their friends that she was instructing an actor on how to ride a horse. Her parents were great but they were also gossips – especially her father who, once he got going in a conversation, was difficult to stop. So either of them learning that she was teaching a celebrity to ride a horse was a sure-fire way to ruin Jay's quiet little vacation in Tishomingo.

Ginger propped a hip against the kitchen counter. "Out with Travis."

Not a complete lie. They were meeting later in the afternoon after she'd finished her lesson with Jay but that was hours away. She didn't feel the need to clarify that with her father, though.

"Oh? What are you two kids doing?"

I'm twenty-two years old, Ginger thought. Not a kid.

Instead, she said, "We were talking about going to the movies. There's a new comedy out that's supposed to be pretty good. Probably going to be a later showing. We'll grab dinner first or something. No need to wait up."

But he hummed in a way that let her know that he or her mother probably would anyway.

"Need anything from the grocery store?" Drake asked then. "Your mother and I are going to go once she finally gets out of the shower. I swear she's been in there for forty-five minutes. By the time I get to it, there probably won't be any hot water left."

"I ate the last of the cherry yogurt this morning."

"You mean the cherry yogurt I bought for myself last week and didn't get to eat because you and your mother stole it all?" He peered at her over the top of the newspaper.

Ginger grinned. "That's the one."

Drake muttered something about the women in this household ruining his life and then added, "I meant to tell you last night but your mother has a message for you from that Mr. Kaufman. He says he's available to meet you any night this week to talk about his accounting firm if you'd like. Just let your mom know when you work and when you're free and she'll confirm the date with him."

"Right. Thanks," Ginger said. Even if the smile twisting her lips felt a little more forced now. "I'll look at my schedule and let her know."

"Okay. Have fun with Travis. Ask him to swing around for dinner sometime soon, yeah? We can do a pot roast or something."

"Sure, I'll ask him. I'll see you later."

"Bye, kiddo." He waved and went back to his paper as Ginger ducked out the door.

*~*

"You're sure this is safe?" Jay asked. He was sitting stiffly on Gypsy in the round pen staring towards where Ginger was leading Fawkes out of the barn.

"It'll be fine," she assured him, trying to keep her tone light and breezy as she opened the round pen gate for Jay and then hoisted herself onto Fawkes' back. Her buckskin quarter horse mount was Bailey's but Ginger was borrowing him for the day as she pushed Jay's riding ability to new heights.