“Are you crying?” I would ask.
“Nah, it’s the sky sprinkling you with happiness,” he would say, and I believed every single word he said.
“Are you ready?” he asks, and my father gasps.
“She literally just got home,” he hisses at his father, “it’s been five minutes.”
“Four minutes and some change,” my grandfather says, “but Grandpa Billy is saddling up her horse as we speak.”
My father throws his head back. “You can’t entice her away with her horse,” he says, and he knows that he totally can.
“Remember when he bought her a pink tractor because she asked him to and then her lower lip quivered when she said it’s okay that he has no money,” my mother says to my father as I laugh.
“That tractor is still in the barn, by the way,” my grandfather tells her. “It was an investment.”
“She rode it five times.” My father laughs. “Okay, let’s go riding,” he says, clapping his hands.
“No way.” My grandfather holds up his hand to stop him. “This is our thing.”
“How is it your thing?” my father asks him. “I was the one who taught her how to ride.”
“Not well,” my grandfather retorts before looking at me. “You even came dressed to ride.” I look down at my white riding pants I put on this morning, knowing that I would be riding, and a button-down, long-sleeve jean shirt that is tucked in the front. The shirt rolled up to the elbows shows off the watch he bought me for graduation and the love bracelet my parents bought me when I turned eighteen. “You have your boots at the barn.”
“I’ll be back.” I walk over and kiss my mother and then my father. “And you get me the whole weekend.” His eyes light up.
“Until Sunday night?” he asks.
“No.” I shake my head. “Until Monday morning.”
I get into the truck with my grandfather, and I’m pulling up to my great-grandparents’ place in a matter of minutes. The whole family lives about five minutes from each other in every single direction. My grandfather owns most, if not all, of the land in town. He may be the biggest tech guy out there, but his heart is at the farm.
I get out of the truck and practically run toward my horse. My great-grandfather is standing there holding her reins. “Sunshine,” he calls me, and all I can do is smile at him. He wears the same thing as my grandfather but with his cowboy hat on his head. The only time he takes that thing off his head is to go to sleep.
“Grandpa Billy,” I say his name as I run to him, just like I did when I was a little girl. He gives me a hug with only one hand. He kisses my cheek. The horse sniffs me as I get closer to her and rub her neck. “Hi, Peaches,” I coo softly, “I missed you. I’m going to go change into my boots and come back.” I rush over to the area where everyone has a locker with their name on it. We are so many that we had to have three rooms. I open my locker, kicking off my sneakers and putting on my riding boots. Before walking out, I see the barn is empty, the horse is now outside. I make my way to my horse, which is right next to my grandfather Casey. He is on his black stallion as he holds the reins for my horse. I put my foot in the stirrup and swing my leg over. “Just like riding a bike.” I wink at him as he laughs.
We take off side by side slowly, and then when we are in the clear, we both push our horses. I put myself lower to pick up more speed. I don’t know how long we ride, but when he stops ahead of me, I slow my horse down as we make our way over to the creek for the horses to get some water.
“That felt good,” I say, getting off my horse and leading her to the water.
“What’s got your bees in a bonnet?” he asks and I just look down, kicking myself for thinking that I was covering up my shit.
“Nothing,” I say softly. The sound of birds chirping in the distance fills the quiet forest. “Just thinking of work,” I lie to him. He looks at me and I know he knows I’m lying, but he just lets it be. “Just working through something.”
He just nods at me. “You know I’m here, right?” he reminds me, and I can’t help the tear that escapes as I wipe it away. “Whatever it is you need, we are here.”
“I know,” I reply softly, and he drops it. We ride back, and instead of going back to my grandfather Billy’s barn, I ride over to my house.
My father is outside when I ride up. “I’ll take her back,” he offers when I hand him the reins. “Mom’s inside.” I walk up the back porch steps, taking off my boots before walking in. The smell of strawberry and lemon fills the house.