Authors: Kate Pavelle
A
SLAP
broke the tranquility of the evening.
“Kai… Kai? Would you please close the screen door?” Attila’s grumpy voice told Kai to hurry. He lowered the heat beneath the stir-fry, ducked out of the kitchen, and slid the mosquito screen shut.
Not even knowing how it happened, they had fallen into a rhythm of taking turns making dinner; it was Kai’s turn to cook, and he was glad of it. Spending time in the pool would have meant battling greedy little bloodsuckers, just like Attila was doing now.
The rice timer went off just when he added the shrimp and doused the dish in a slurry of soy sauce, white wine, and sesame oil. “Are we eating inside?” he called out the window.
“Most definitely.” A few splashes and several more slapping sounds informed Kai of Attila’s status: hungry and aggravated. That was confirmed by the fact that the usually meticulous man entered the house while still dripping wet and tried to minimize the damage to his hardwood floors by standing on Kai’s already-used towel while wiping off.
“Where did the mosquitoes come from?” Kai asked. “There were almost none two weeks ago.”
“I am not sure,” Attila replied. “The pond gets treated regularly, and the fish should eat whatever larvae survive. It’s not the pool…. There has to be standing water here somewhere after the storms we’ve had last week, but so far I have failed to find it.”
“Poor baby,” Kai crooned. “Bitten by a mosquito.”
Attila huffed, disappearing into the bedroom. He emerged a few minutes later, wearing dry shorts and an even drier expression. “Mosquitoes are no joking matter, Kai. They bother the horses.”
Kai rolled his eyes as he pressed a glass of unsweetened iced tea into his housemate’s hand.
Heaven forbid the mosquitoes bother the horses!
He had not yet figured out how to think of the man: he was his boss, his lover, his landlord… his housemate, his roommate, even his friend. The last category made Kai pause. Yes, a genuine friend.
He leaned over to have a better look at Attila’s pale skin. “It may bother the horses, but it bothers you even more. Your shoulders are covered in bites, dude.” He sat and slid a sidelong glance toward the unhappy man. “And here I thought our relationship was exclusive. Look at all those love bites! Well… at least I can’t fault their taste.”
“Hnn.” Attila toyed with his dinner for a bit.
“No good?” Kai asked, hoping for praise for his newest Food Network effort.
“It’s fine.” Attila sighed. “I’m really enjoying the salt, actually.” He ate some more.
“You look tired,” Kai declared just as Attila failed to suppress another yawn.
“Nonsense. I am perfectly fine.”
When dinner was over and put away, Attila steeled himself against the onslaught of winged attackers and brought the mail from the outside. “I don’t know where the stupid insects live. There are no buckets, no abandoned water features, and Leno cleans the gutters every fall.” While Attila grumbled over the spike in the mosquito population, he was sorting mail on the kitchen table. There was junk mail, more junk mail, bills from the vet and from the farrier, and an official envelope from Tennessee.
“Kai, you have some mail,” Attila murmured.
Kai lifted his head from a horse supply catalog. “Oh yeah?” He accepted the cheap, official-looking envelope and ripped it open. A copy of his driver’s license was affixed to a letter of explanation with a bit of silicone glue. “Guess what! I can drive again!” Until his license expired, that is. Kai had been doing his best to chew his way through the soporific text of the Pennsylvania rulebook in the meantime.
Attila smiled. “That’s excellent. I think we should go out and celebrate.”
“Really?” Kai reached to stroke the small of Attila’s back. “What do you have in mind?”
“I think we should get one of those milk shakes again, and you should drive.”
Kai paled. “But… it’s been a while since I’ve actually driven, you know. Like, two years or more. And I don’t know where to go, anyway.”
“Have you ever even seen a map of this area?” Attila queried, his head cocked to the side. “No? Let’s have a look.” He turned on his iMac and pulled up an extra chair. “Here, sit. Let me pull up a map of the neighborhood.”
It didn’t take long for Kai to navigate Google Maps on his own and identify a route to the ice cream stand by the theater.
“You sure you want to let me drive?” Kai asked.
“Yes. The bad news is that it is already dark out. The good news is that there will be almost no traffic. Come on!”
A
TTILA
displayed much patience as it took Kai half an hour to navigate down from the stables and across Ambridge. There were almost no cars on the road, and the lights of Attila’s Bronco burned bright through the night. Kai tended to slam the brakes a bit much, uncertain about where to go, and he almost hit a deer that darted across the road, but they did reach their ultimate goal unscathed. Soon they were seated on that same bench, the canopy of the large tree shading them from the revealing streetlights as they shared their mutual favorite milk shake: dark chocolate and mint.
“Driving back should feel quite natural,” Attila hummed, straw in his mouth. They straddled the bench this time, their faces close together.
“I guess.” Kai licked his chocolate-stained lips. “I guess I’d feel more comfortable on horseback.”
“There was a time we used to do that.” Attila sighed. “You can’t anymore—at least not at night. Drivers go fast around the turns and don’t expect to see a rider. It’s dangerous for the horses.”
“And for the people.”
“Sure.” Attila nodded. “Except people can decide for themselves whether to take the risk.” He yawned. “It’s just as well you’re driving, Kai. I should have had a bit of coffee with dinner.”
“Are you… are you feeling okay?” Kai asked. “I know you hate when people fuss, so I’m asking you outright.”
Attila detected a note of genuine concern in Kai’s voice, and suppressed his customary defensive reaction. It was true that nothing would make him shut down faster than a display of heartfelt concern. He took a deep breath—Kai deserved better than being snapped at. “Just a bit run down, I guess. It was a busy few days, and way too much drama for my taste.”
“Yeah.” Kai nodded, sliding his hand against Attila’s to establish his supportive presence.
M
ONA
’
S
fashionable haircut escaped her rubber band, and a strand of sun-kissed hair snaked down her temple all the way down to her jawline. Attila was tempted to speculate whether the effect was accidental or contrived.
“She’s my daughter, and I want to ride with her,” she said, jutting her chin out.
“Mona. You are a highly skilled rider and a seasoned competitor. Lindsey is well on her way to becoming the same, just like you. Surely you realize the importance of building up her confidence level, if you truly want her to succeed?”
“What are you implying, Attila?”
He met her menacing stare head on. It was just like backing up a horse. “I am trying to imply that the dynamic between Lindsey and you has become rather… tense. Both of you are really nice people, but you have some talking to do.” He paused, and when the blonde did not interrupt, he moved on. “Think of it from a horse-training perspective. Whatever has happened between the two of you has affected your trust levels. You need to reestablish that trust, first and foremost. In humans it generally takes eight positive interactions to erase one negative impression; as you know, horses are even less tolerant. From the look and the sound of it, you have your work cut out for you.”
Mona sighed. “I know. And when I try to do something nice, she accuses me of trying to bribe her. She claims I’m trying to buy her affection. You don’t understand, Attila. You don’t have kids. Horses are a lot easier to deal with.”
He gave her a sympathetic smile. “That is why I deal with horses and avoid people, I suppose. I am not a very social person.”
“But you could be! You are so charming!” She beamed a smile at him, placing a hand on his bicep. “I really do hope you will change your mind and join me for dinner one of these days.”
A slight movement dislodged her hand from his arm, much like a twitch of a muscle fiber shooed a fly off a horse’s flank. “You flatter me, Mona. I shall stick to my horses for now. But, about Lindsey… she is nineteen. Why not let her do what she wants to do? Coming here on her own is harmless.”
“It would be harmless if she hadn’t asked that lummox for a ride.”
“Hal?”
“Yes, Hal. I know he’s your nephew and all, but still… I don’t like it.” Her voice turned conspiratorial. “I think they even went to see a movie together last week.”
Attila nodded, his expression a study in grave regard for her concerns. “She is her mother’s daughter. I am sure you have taught her well.”
Her bitter laugh surprised him. “That’s what worries me the most.”
R
EALIZING
that he was feeling unnaturally short-tempered, Attila put forth his best behavior. He didn’t criticize Kai’s parking effort and had taken the initiative to order their favorite milk shake, large, with two straws.
“Are Hal and Lindsey still together?” Attila asked as their heads were bent together in a quiet act of sharing, knowing Kai would notice all those little things that would escape his attention altogether.
“Well,” Kai drawled with a grin. “Judging from the fact that Hal carried Lindsey across that huge puddle by the parking lot to spare her new riding boots, I guess they still are.”
Attila quirked his eyebrow up, gesturing to him to continue.
“They also seem to be drawn to empty stalls.” At this, Kai laughed out loud and Attila smiled, remembering how difficult it was to snatch a bit of privacy in an apparently empty barn.
Attila yawned. The drive home passed faster than he realized, and suddenly he felt entirely spent. “I’ll be turning in, I think. Will you join me?”
Kai flashed him a speculative look. “No… I’d like to retake that practice test, if you don’t mind. May I use your computer for that? There was no reason why I can’t take the test tomorrow and get the whole paperwork nightmare over and done with.”
“Go right ahead. You know the password.”
T
IBOR
stood next to Attila in the middle of the arena. This Saturday morning was lovely, so weather could not be blamed for the men’s sour disposition.
“What you did was horribly irresponsible,” Tibor hissed by Attila’s side while the two of them kept their eyes trained on Kai, who was astride Cayenne, riding the perimeter of the indoor arena. “Putting Kai on an untrained stallion, without a bridle, in an open pasture! Anything could have happened. I’ve been around long enough to know that riding bridleless takes months of special training.”
Attila ignored his brother-in-law for the moment, keeping his sharp eyes trained on Kai. “Posting trot!”
Kai responded by squeezing both legs and Cayenne sped up to the desired rhythm.
“Wrong diagonal, Kai!” Attila was pleased to see Kai rise up in the saddle for an extra hoofbeat and then sit back down, moving with Cayenne in a more natural manner. Then he flicked his eyes to his brother-in-law.
“I am aware of my unorthodox approach, Tibor.” His voice was mild and not at all defensive. “I think Cayenne had been ridden in the past. I have learned during basic groundwork that he responds to leg pressure. It’s just the riders he cannot abide.”
“Still though, you never put a rider on a horse until that horse responds to commands on the ground!” The volume of Tibor’s voice increased, and Attila saw Cayenne’s ear flick in their direction.
“Heels down, Kai!” he called out, wanting the rider to stretch his Achilles tendons even further. Kai complied. “The fact that Kai rode Cayenne bareback and they both seemed to have liked it was a game changer in Cayenne’s training. I could wish that Kai were more experienced, but he does have a keen eye for animal body language. So far, he has proven to get along with every single animal here. Including the dogs.”
“Including you, too.” Tibor sighed. “After what Lindsey told Hal and what Hal told me, I am… I’m concerned, and I think your expectations have become unreasonably high of both rider and horse. This is an accident waiting to happen, Attila.”
“Accidents are part of life.” Attila turned to observe Kai’s progress. “I want you to walk him around once, then ask him to c-a-n-t-e-r.”
Kai nodded, and Tibor raised his eyebrow. “What, he knows what you’re saying?”
“Quite,” Attila nodded, allowing a small smile. “I take it as another sign that somebody rode him before and something bad happened. It’s hard to tell with, what, five previous owners?”
“A difficult horse.” Tibor nodded.
“A misunderstood horse,” Attila corrected. “Look at him now. He looks perfectly happy, responding to Kai’s requests based on only leg pressure. No bridle necessary.”
“You should ride him, then,” Tibor snarled. “Take your own risks instead of using your new stable hand as a guinea pig.”
Attila bristled—he didn’t like Kai being called a mere stable hand—yet he kept his temper in the ice box where it belonged. “I am working toward that goal. He will accept apples from me now, and he allows me to touch him as long as I don’t have a whip in my hand.”
Tibor whistled. “Is that so,” he said after some time. “Some people would call that a clue.”
K
AI
leaned forward to stroke Cayenne’s neck and scratch his mane. Then he straightened and pressed his left leg into Cayenne’s flank, making a kissing sound with his lips. He felt the horse gather under him, throwing his weight back ever so slightly before breaking into a canter. Kai pressed his heels down, his hands glued to his thighs. His legs were all he had—his legs and his balance—and Cayenne loved to run. After the third circle, he heard Attila’s voice again.