Authors: Jessica Miller
“That’s perfect. Hold it right there in five, four, three, two, one. Okay, you can put it down.”
Gasping and finally able to breathing, she slowly lowered her arm. The orderly reappeared and helped her back into the chair. Her arm throbbed in time with the fiercely beating pulse in her temple. She was drenched in sweat from the effort it took to hold still through the pain. But it was over now, and with any luck she’d be allowed to sleep.
*****
A few hours later, Connor walked into her room to discuss the findings. He sifted through the papers slowly, repeating a lot of the information and explaining things a little too thoroughly. Annique was starting to feel like he was stalling, and she was antsy to get out of the hospital.
“As I thought, you have a mild concussion. You’ll need to relax for a few days. No jumping around. Let Leah take care of Sampson. You just rest. Your shoulder looks good, but you’ll have to keep it immobilized for a few weeks to let it heal. You should be good as new in six weeks. The good news is, I can discharge you and you can finish up your healing at home.”
“Six weeks? I can’t be off for six weeks!”
“Isn’t Sampson going to be off at least that long? And with all the money you won last night, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Money?”
“Yes. You were on your horse when you crossed the finish line, even though you were both going down. The other contestants had the same number of faults as you, but you had the fastest time so you won first prize.”
Annique smiled. “Ha! I didn’t even know that I won. That must have been some knock to the head. I almost forgot why I was at Del Mar in the first place.”
“Yep. You won the hundred thousand dollar purse and the saddle.”
Connor hesitated, than decided it was now or never.
“We should celebrate. Would you have lunch with me this week? I’m off on Thursdays, and by then you’ll have had four days of rest, and—” Connor laughed nervously. “Listen to me, I’m rambling like a school boy. Annique, it’s just lunch, it doesn’t have to be a real date.”
“Why not?”
The question caught him off-guard.
“If you want it to be a date, it can be.”
“You can call it whatever you want, Connor. As long as you’re driving. This doctor I have is a real stickler for the rules and says I can’t drive for at least a week.” She flashed him a wicked grin.
“Sounds fair. I’ll pick you up Thursday for lunch.”
“It’s a date.”
Connor smiled broadly at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his face alight with the thought of seeing her again. He left the room to complete his rounds, stopping at the door to wave at her awkwardly before he walked away. Annique called Leah to let her know that she was ready to leave. She couldn’t wait to tell her friend everything that had happened.
*****
Rosie sat in her car in the hospital parking lot. She was far enough away to escape notice, but close enough to see when Connor left the building. A telephoto lens camera sat on the seat beside her as she waited patiently for Connor’s shift to end. Every once in a while, Rosie would photograph a pretty woman walking out of the hospital, just in case they were there to see Connor.
Two younger women, one black and one white, walked out of the automatic doors, the latter helping the former to walk. Rosie smirked. Neither of these girls would be an issue; the white girl was much too short, while the black girl was nowhere near as beautiful as Rosie. Not wanting to waste precious memory card space on two nobodies, Rosie left her camera sitting on the seat.
She looked at her watch and noted that Connor would be leaving in about twenty minutes. She turned on her radio, settling in for tail-end of her stakeout. Connor was pretty set in his routine, so she knew when he got home he would go straight to bed, even though it was nearly lunch time. He’d been on a similar schedule when they’d been married years ago, driving Rosie insane when she had to alter his schedule to accommodate his odd sleeping habits. She’d begged him to get off the night shift for years, but it paid better and he enjoyed the challenge.
“The night shift at the ER brings in the most interesting group of patients,” he’d told her, his face overcome with that boyish grin that Rosie hated so very much. “Every shift has its share of car accidents and tragedies. But at night, you also get the adventurous lovers who went too far, and the slightly tipsy ones who thought they could bust a wooden board with their heads. You have to find your joy where you can, and I meet the most interesting people at night.”
“You should find your joy with
me
. There’s no joy in work. It’s just a job.”
“Rosie, I save
lives
. I love my work, it matters to me.”
“You don’t do anything better than the next man in scrubs can’t do.”
Connor’s face had fallen, her words doing their job and tearing him down. She smiled at the memory, of the little blows to his ego, week after week, until he was just a shell of the foolish, stubborn man she’d married. She’d enjoyed every moment, savoring the pain her words caused him.
She had nearly lost it when she was served with divorce papers more than five years ago. After all she’d done for him, Connor had the nerve to dump her. She took half of everything he had at the time, but she was denied alimony based on emotional abuse. She had laughed at him in the court room.
Emotional abuse?
She scoffed, telling Connor’s lawyer that she wasn’t responsible for him being weak. The judge had sided with the cry-baby, begrudgingly giving Rosie her fair share of the assets, but telling her that she was lucky that she was getting divorced in a no-fault state. Otherwise, he bellowed like the foolish pig of a judge he was, Connor wouldn’t be giving her a dime.
But it didn’t matter. The divorce was just a power play, the move of a weak man. He’d come crawling back to her and she would have her life back. And he’d thank her for taking him back after going into the world to find that there wasn’t a woman alive who wanted him.
The automatic doors opened, yanking Rosie out of her musings. Connor strutted out of the building, his steps uncharacteristically light as he practically jogged to his car. Rosie pulled out her camera and took several pictures, focusing in on the ridiculous smile on his face. Rosie had seen that look before; Connor was in love.
Rosie pounded the dashboard with her free hand, angry that Connor was obviously seeing someone without her knowing about it. How could this have happened? She followed him almost everywhere. But that smile said it all, and he was twitterpated at the very least. Rosie put the car in gear and headed out the back entrance of the parking lot. As long as he was heading home, she would catch him at the next cross-street. It was a pointless counter measure; Connor hadn’t noticed her following him once in the last year. But she couldn’t risk getting arrested for violating the protective order, so she was always cautious.
As predicted, Connor’s car crossed in front of Rosie’s within minutes. She pulled into traffic, making sure to leave a few cars between them so he didn’t see her. She followed him through Del Mar and into Carmel Valley. She watched him turn down the dead end street leading to his home as she drove past, satisfied that he was going straight home to sleep.
She drove down the road until she reached Rancho Santa Fe, turning down a narrow easement to her home. She walked into her home and straight into her office, using the key on her keyring to open the locked door. Rosie opened her laptop and turned it on. While she waited for it to boot up, she perused the hundreds of photos lining the walls of the office, wondering if one of the women she’d scared off had dared come back. It had been over a year since the last woman had run away, practically screaming in fear. Rosie didn’t take kindly to women messing with her man, and she wouldn’t stand for whoever this new woman was either.
She scanned the pictures, each featuring a giant, red “x” she slashed through them once they were finally out of the picture. Furious, Rosie swept her arm across a large group of pictures, ripping them from the wall and onto the floor. Instead of a crash, they floated down with little fanfare, infuriating Rosie and sending her in to fits of hysteria.
Rosie stood in the middle of the room, slowly spinning and stomping her foot.
“Who is she? Who is she? Who. Is.
She
!” Her mantra grew until she was all but screeching in anger. Pulling at her hair and
kicking the wall, she continued her tantrum, wishing that it was Connor’s head that she was kicking instead of the drywall that crumpled with each kick.
The world went black, and Rosie sat down, keening to herself and rocking while she stared off into the distance. She lay down on her side and went to sleep, curled up in a tiny ball, light jacket pulled tightly around her as she hummed until she fell asleep.
*****
Connor pulled in the parking space and hurried around the car to open Annique’s door. She smiled up at him, surprised by the gentlemanly gesture. He held out his hand and she took it, delighting in the feel of his warmth around her hand as he walked beside her to the door. The maître d’ opened the door for them, immediately showing them to a table near the back.
Connor leaned close to the maître d’ and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and led them to a table that was still near the back, but away from the windows. Annique watched Connor’s face as he sat down and opened up the menu.
“What was that all about?”
Connor stared at her for a brief moment, the startled look quickly being replaced by one of regret.
“I don’t like to sit by windows. It makes me feel like someone is watching me.” He laughed, quickly changing the subject. “So what made you decide to start riding?”
Annique wasn’t fooled, but she let it slide. He would tell her in his own time, until then, she’d just have to be patient.
“I’ve been horse-crazy since my parents could remember. My mom grew up really poor, so she wanted to give me the childhood her parents couldn’t. She picked up extra shifts so I could ride twice a week at this little riding school in Bonita. I was always the only little black girl there, which I didn’t even notice until I was ten, or so. It didn’t matter to me though. I wanted to be a show jumper since I went over my first trot pole at six years old, nothing could have stopped me.”
“Were the other girls mean to you?”
“Sometimes, but it was mostly because of where I lived. They all went to school together, but since I lived in Alta Mesa and rode the city bus for twenty minutes to get to the farm, they said I would never fit in.”
She sat up tall, what could have been a painful memory was obviously a source of inspiration.
“The funny this is, not one of those girls competes nationally like I do. So I’m comfortable saying that they were wrong.” She smiled at Connor, enjoying the way his light skin showed deep red on his cheeks when he blushed.
She squeezed his hand and winked at him.
“You know what I love most about show jumping? Okay, besides Sampson soaring through the air like an eagle. I love that everyone wears the same clothes, the same type of boots, and the same color helmet. When I go out there, I’m not a black girl competing in a sport dominated by white men; I’m a person on a powerful horse. No gender, no race, no financial status. I’m just me and Sampson is just himself. It’s the one place where everyone is equal, no matter how much money their parents make, or how much they paid for their horse.”
“But it wasn’t all bad, right?”
“Oh no. I can honestly say that, aside from a few snide remarks at my high school, I fit in pretty well. I actually met Leah Grace at the riding school. She never cared that I was from the wrong city, or that my mom didn’t drive a Lexus. We’ve been good friends since middle school. She’s been traveling with Sampson and me since she graduated from college.”
Connor watched Annique as she talked. Her hands were animated, her face lighting up when she talked about the first pony she ever rode, and the time she and Leah snuck into the barn at night and had an impromptu sleepover. He could tell that her parents had done their best to make sure she had a magical childhood. He sat back and listened to her describe her past, her voice sparkling. He asked her many questions, which she was glad to answer. Eventually, she noticed that he’d shared almost nothing of himself, and decided to ask him a few questions.
“I’m going to start with the hard question.”
“Ok. Shoot.”
“What’s up with not wanting a window seat? Don’t give me a B.S. answer, I want the truth.”
Connor weighed his words carefully. It would have to be the truth. But he hoped the truth wouldn’t send Annique running for the hills.
“My ex-wife has a habit of interfering with my dating life. She’s chased off every woman I’ve met since divorcing five years ago. I finally gave up on finding love over a year ago, when the last girl threw a drink in my face and told me that no man was worth all the crazy drama that Rosie brings. I’ve gotten a restraining order, but she still followed me. I haven’t seen her in months, but I’ve learned that you can’t be too careful.”
Annique nodded, the smile fading from her face. She believed that a relationship took two people, both in success and failure, and she had a hard time believing that he wasn’t exaggerating a little.