Lilacs

I’ve decided to go public (to my 3 followers of this tumblr?) to hold myself more accountable. It is kind of trying to be the new Saddle Club, but for a slightly older audience. So far it is 4,000 words and counting and extremely silly, but a lot of fun to write. For my loyal, tiny group of followers, a rough, almost completely unedited sneak peak:

“How’s she doing?” Maddie asked as she clipped a leadrope to her horse’s halter and lead him into his stall. She turned him fully around to face the stall door before unclipping him.

“Not too good,” the barn manager answered. “Won’t be long now.” He turned and walked back toward his office, his cowboy boots scuffing the concrete aisle as he walked. Maddie understood his gruffness; with the owner of the barn on her deathbed, his future employment was suddenly very fuzzy.

The rumors had been flying ever since Fran Mason, the owner of the barn, had collapsed and been rushed to the hospital. Cherokee Hills Farm had been in Fran’s family for almost 50 years, but while she clung to the operation the rest of the family was more than ready to let it go. The land, nearly a thousand acres of beautiful rolling pastures, woods, and trails in the hills of eastern Nebraska, would basically make them all millionaires if they sold it off. 

Maddie gathered up her saddle, bridle, and tote of brushes and lugged them all to the boarder tackroom. She hung up her dirty bridle and threw her cover over her saddle, promising herself she’d clean them next time, just as she had the day before. She threw her tote in her locker and turned to leave, remembering last minute to grab a handful of carrots out of the communal treat bucket by the door. Her horse, used to this routine, was impatiently waiting by his feed bucket, and nickered loudly when he heard the tackroom door shut and lock. She threw the carrots into his bucket as she walked past him, continuing down the aisle and to her car parked outside. Most of the stalls in the barn were empty now; many of the boarders had jumped ship as soon as Fran had gotten sick. The number of stalls available at other barns in the area was limited, and they wanted to make sure they got in at the best barns before it was too late. Including Maddie there were only about 10 boarders left.

It was nearly sunset, and the light coming across the pastures was picture perfect. A former water jump in the front pasture, filled now with rainwater and algae, was teeming with the peeping of tiny frogs, blissfully unaware of anything but the makeshift pond where they would live and die. A herd of deer grazed in the furthest pasture, just before the tree line. For the hundredth time since Jan’s turn for the worse, Maddie felt a twinge of sorrow at the thought of losing this place.

* * * * *

“How’s the report coming Madeline? Remember I need it by 4:30 at the latest.” Maddie quickly clicked away from the open Internet browser on her computer screen and back to the Excel file she’d been working on all morning.

“Yup, 4:30, got it!” she said, keeping a falsely cheerful smile on her face until Helen, her manager, retreated around the corner. As soon as she was out of sight Maddie clicked back over to her Google search of area barns. She told herself she was being realistic, not pessimistic, in assuming that she and her horse would soon be in the market for a new facility. She scanned through the list, quickly dismissing most of them based on what she already knew. Aspen Ridge Stables was too far away, nearly a 45 minute drive. Rocking Horse Ranch was exclusively a western barn, catering to rodeo riders and barrel racers, and Maddie was a lifelong hunter/jumper rider. Adagio Equestrian Center barely had any pastures for the horses to go out in during the day, Maple Creek was too expensive, and Spring Hollow Stables, though inexpensive and nearby, was too crowded and run down. Maddie sighed and closed the Internet window, turning back to her Excel spreadsheet. Cherokee Hills Farm really was the only barn where she wanted to be.

An hour or so later, her report still unfinished, Maddie sat in the break room flipping through an old People magazine and tearing bites off of her turkey sandwich. Carl from Accounting walked in and opened the fridge.

“Hey Maddie!” he said. “Another day, another dollar, am I right?” Maddie smiled and nodded but didn’t say anything, her mouth full of turkey, bread, and cheese. “Say,” he continued, “I hear congratulations are in order! It’s your anniversary, isn’t it? Two whole years!” Maddie stared at him and swallowed. “Can you believe it?”

Maddie couldn’t. She found a smile and thanked Carl, who pulled a brown paper bag out of the fridge and headed back to his desk. Most of the employees at Bonner & Associates ate at their desks, working through their lunch hour even though it was calculated into their salaries. Maddie was not one of those employees.

Two years. That meant it had been almost three years since she had graduated college, filled with hopes and ambition, walking off the stage and straight into the heart of the biggest recession since the Great Depression. She had managed to spend a year hopping around, visiting friends across the country and applying to jobs where she could, before reality set in and she found herself back home in Nebraska with empty pockets and jaded perceptions. She took a temp job in the Human Resources Department at Bonner & Associates, the biggest insurance agency in Nebraska. She took solace in the belief that it was only temporary, an easy way to start replenishing her bank account while she looked for jobs. Six months in they offered her a full-time position and, with no other options, she took it, telling herself she might as well have benefits while she looked for her dream job. Now it was two years later and she could barely remember what her dream job was.

Helen hurried past the break room door, her stiletto heels clacking on the tile floor. When she spotted Maddie lazily flipping pages of a tabloid she stopped in her tracks, took two steps backward so that she stood directly in Maddie’s line of sight, and pointed to her watch, eyebrows raised. “Yup!” Maddie called to her. “4:30! I know.” Maddie stuffed the rest of her lunch back into her bag and stood. She may not know what her dream job was anymore, but she knew this definitely wasn’t it.

At 4:25 Maddie clicked “Send” on an email to Helen, the report attached. She had just started to pack up her things and shut down her computer when her phone rang. Quickly she glanced at her clock. 4:28. She wasn’t off until 4:30. She glanced over her cubicle wall into Helen’s office. Helen was on the phone but she met Maddie’s eyes and raised her eyebrows expectantly. Maddie sat back down with a sigh and picked up the phone.

“Bonner & Associates, Maddie Fahey speaking, how may I help you?”

“Hi Maddie, sorry to call you at work, this is Candace.” Maddie quickly sat up. Candace was Fran’s personal assistant and right hand woman.

“Candace! Hi! How is she?”

“Well…unfortunately I have bad news. Fran passed away this morning.”

“Oh…Candace I’m so sorry. She was a wonderful woman.” For the first time Maddie wondered why Candace was calling her. Was she calling all of the boarders? “Is there anything I can do?”

“Well actually that’s why I’m calling…Maddie we’re going to need you to come downtown tomorrow morning, if that’s at all possible. Your presence is requested at the reading of the will.”

Maddie was speechless. “What? Why?” she finally managed. “As a witness or something?” Couldn’t someone else do this?

“Not exactly. Apparently Fran left you something in her will. Can you make it?”

Maddie stole a glance at her manager, who was glaring at her computer screen, eyebrows furrowed, furiously making edits to what Maddie could only assume was the report she had just sent her.

“I’ll be there.”

“Horsey” by Eungi Kim

Kicked out of the office by an overflowing toilet leaking through the ceiling, but somehow making do.

bshawise:

A family who goes hunting for good times together stays together.

Today, I miss the farm (beware of gruesome chicken killing picture)

Bliss