Butterfly Love
By Ann Harris
Published by Pine Lake Books
Smashwords Edition
copyright 2011 Ann Harris
eBook ISBN: 978-1-926898-20-9
This book is also available in print form ISBN: 978-1-926898-16-2
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
DEDICATION
In memory of Barbara, a dear friend
SPECIAL THANKS
To my husband Dave, and Lynn, my Publisher, for their ongoing support and hours of editing
To Lindy and Vicki who gave their honest and thoughtful comments on this novel
To Bev Newton for her cover art
Happiness is like a butterfly: the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder.
−Henry David Thoreau
Chapter 1
THE SHRILL RING of the alarm clock bell startled Amanda out of a deep sleep. Thrusting her arm out to the side, she brought her hand down hard, cutting off the persistent noise. Silence! Yawning, she lay on her back, arms over her head, stretching lazily. It was Saturday, her favourite day of the week, the day when she could lose herself in another world. A world of horses, away from the daily life of forever trying to be someone she hated; away from clean finger nails, designer clothes and of course, polite conversation. Tee shirts and blue denim jeans and the sweaty smell of horses were more her style, that or digging in the flowerbeds; all of which her mother disliked.
Mother, she thought, as she sighed deeply and folded her arms over her chest. Closing her eyes, she thought of the ongoing battles she and her mother fought almost every single day. Today would be no different; the raised eyebrows, the pinching of her nose and the never ending complaining about Amanda’s lack of interest in anything other than horses or flowers.
Amanda scowled. She complains about me spending too much time with horses, she thought. But she is so wrapped up in her own world of newspapers, articles and interviews. Sometimes I wonder if she has forgotten that I exist. Rolling over onto her side and slowly pushing back the sheet, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She looked at the photo hanging on the wall above her desk and shook her head. Family, she thought, looking at the group laughing back at her. I wish I felt part of this family. Amanda had been adopted as a baby by the Miller family, but as she had gotten older, she always felt that she didn’t really belong. There was something missing. She didn’t quite know what. Her dad and brother were her heroes, but her mother and sister failed to accept her for who she was. I wish mom would treat me even just a little bit like she treats Julie. I know she dotes on her!
She took off her nightdress and quickly pulled on a clean pair of faded blue jeans and a white cotton tee shirt. Tall and athletic, she looked good in the well fitting designer jeans. Tightening the leather belt around her slim waist, she took one last look at herself in the bedroom mirror. Her emerald green eyes stared out of her freckled, sun tanned face which was framed by a head of reddish brown hair; a jungle of curls, that even when brushed, remained untamed. She pointed her hairbrush towards the mirror. “One of these days,” she vowed to her image, “I will make mom notice me for who I am and I will somehow, somewhere find out who my real parents are!” Always determined in whatever she tackled, Amanda had no doubt that she would be able to solve her problems. How she was going to do that was another matter; one she would have to think through very carefully.
Pulling on her favourite long sleeved blue sweater, she hurried along the carpeted landing and down the stairs. After grabbing her coat from the hall closet, she walked quickly into the kitchen, picked a juicy red apple out of the fruit bowl on the counter and headed over to the back door. As she reached for the door knob a sharp voice from behind inquired, “Where are you going?”
Rolling her eyes, Amanda turned. “Out!” she answered abruptly. She was irritated by the question. She should be used to it, but it still annoyed her. It happened every Saturday. The same question asked with the same unmistakable tone of disapproval in her mother’s voice.
Her mother hated horses and couldn’t understand Amanda’s passion for them. In fact, the previous fall, Amanda had been surprised when her dad had persuaded her mom to let her have a horse soon after they moved to Glendale from Nova Scotia. Ever since she could remember she had wanted a pony, but it had never happened. Her mother had many excuses as to why it wasn’t a good idea. “They are too big and dangerous! They cost too much!” And the worst excuse of all, “You are supposed to be a young lady, not go around smelling like a … like horse fertilizer, and acting like a tomboy!”
Amanda had burst out laughing. “Fertilizer! Don’t you mean horse manure?”
“Amanda, don’t talk like that!” her mother had said.
But since their move, her father had become her knight in shining armour, persuading her mother to give in to Amanda’s wish. He was often away and couldn’t always be there to fend for her. It wasn’t easy proving to her mom that she could ride horses and still be the ‘young lady’ that she expected Amanda to be.
This morning was a typical example, as they glared across the kitchen at each other. “Well don’t be long,” said her mother crustily. “I told you last night that I had two appointments in town this morning, and then I have to drive out to the airport to pick up your father.” Her mother, wearing make-up, bright red lipstick and a touch of blush on her high cheek bones, looked like she had just walked off the page of a fashion magazine. She buttoned up her navy blue suit jacket. “Oh yes,” she continued, sniffing in disapproval. “I expect you to tidy your bedroom. It is a terrible mess! Clothes everywhere and hay seeds all over the floor! Really Amanda, if you would spend a little more time cleaning your room and less time cleaning horse stables, I wouldn’t have to complain so much.”
“Mom, you promised you wouldn’t go poking around my room.” Amanda’s green eyes, like laser beams, penetrated her mother’s frosty glare. The tension between them intensified as her mother tapped her long, red painted finger nails impatiently on the counter. “It’s my room,” added Amanda, her voice a notch higher. “And I was looking for my blue sweater. I’ll clean my room later. Besides, you don’t tell Julie to tidy her room and that’s messy, what with all those icky lipsticks, creams and other gunk she uses!”
“At least your sister looks presentable,” responded her mother, annoyed by her youngest daughter’s outburst. “Now, I have to leave or I’ll be late.” She walked across the kitchen, jingling her car keys, then turned around. Her large brown eyes scanning Amanda’s casual outfit, she asked “When will you be home?”
“What’s it to you? You’re too busy with work to care,” snapped Amanda, still smarting from being compared to Julie.
“Stop with that tone of voice, young lady! I do care, Amanda, but my job is very demanding.” With a flourish, she grabbed her brief case off the counter. Amanda stepped back as her mother squeezed past and opened the back door. A strong smell of spicy perfume wafted up into Amanda’s face, making her grimace.
After hurrying down the steps, Sophia Miller glanced back at her hostile daughter standing in the doorway. “I’ll see you later this afternoon. Please be home early and be changed for dinner. And you can set the table. Oh, another thing, I’ve put a laundry bag in your room for stable clothes. Please use it!”
“But …”
“No more buts. Your sister can help prepare dinner.” Seeing Amanda’s dejected look, her face softened slightly. As an afterthought she said, “Have a nice day. When I get through finalizing these office contracts, I promise to spend more time with you.” Glancing at her gold watch, she quickly climbed into her bright red sports car.
Amanda watched as her mother spun the wheels and sped off down the gravelled driveway. The car turned onto the road and disappeared towards Glendale.
Sighing and shaking her head, Amanda slowly turned and went back into the kitchen. She had been promised things before, but they never happened. She had often wondered if her mom was as domineering and quick to judge with the staff at the “Glendale Gazette”, where she was the head reporter, as she was at home. Since moving to Glendale, her mom had become totally obsessed with her work, and as of late had set her sights on the editor’s position since hearing that the current editor, Jane Parsons, was leaving. She seemed to be spending more time at the office than at home, leaving her family to fend for themselves. Maybe when all this has settled down, things will improve, thought Amanda hopefully. With her father away a lot, her brother Sam at University, and Julie busy with boyfriends and school athletics, Amanda was lonely. Thank goodness for horses. That thought brightened her spirits. Picking up her coat and apple, she went outside, closed the door and locked it.
She collected her bicycle from the garage and pedalled down the driveway. Turning left onto Concorde Avenue, she set off for Thistledown stables. The sky was cloudless, the sun shining brightly, promising a nice day. As she pedalled down the road, she couldn’t help but wonder if her life would have turned out differently if she had been raised by her real mother and father. This was the other bone of contention she and her mother had. Amanda knew she was adopted, but that didn’t mean that she shouldn’t be able to know who her real parents were. She desperately wanted to find out, but every time she had tried to get her mom to divulge any information, she had only received sharp, negative responses… There is nothing to discuss Amanda. We are your parents, your family and that’s all you need to know.
But for Amanda, that wasn’t good enough. One of these days I will find out who they were, she said to herself, feeling annoyed. Gripping the handle bars tightly, she pedalled faster, trying to escape from the mixed emotions of anger and sadness stirring inside her.
Chapter 2
“FINALLY! I THOUGHT you were never coming,” said Chelsey, Amanda’s friend. “What took you so long?”
“The usual old thing,” replied Amanda with a sigh, as she rested her bicycle against the old apple tree. Drawing her fingers through her windblown hair, she unsnarled the thick curls. “Mom is always in such a hurry to get to some dumb interview or to the office, but not in such a hurry that she can’t find time to complain about something I’ve done.”
“What have you done now?” asked Chelsey, as she bent down to pick up her backpack.
The two girls walked side by side towards the stables. “I couldn’t find my blue sweater,” Amanda answered, pulling her sweater down over her slim hips. “It was under a pile of clothes I hadn’t got around to putting away in the drawers. Mom went into my room. Gosh how I hate when she does that. She complained, once again, about the smelly horse clothes and the hay seeds. If she keeps on about it I swear I will do my own washing at the Laundromat! Anyway, I got mad and well … you know how it is. It’s not that I have anything to hide, but she promised me she wouldn’t go into my room and she still does. She’s always on my case. Now Julie, she could get away with murder and still be Mom’s pet!” she ended, in a sarcastic tone.
“Sounds like you and your mom are always fighting. It’s got to be ‘the teenage thing’.” Chelsey coughed as she rubbed her eyes.
”What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well
it’s like, you get labelled. Like, when you turn two and you start
to become inquisitive and you’ve learned how to say ‘No’, you
get labelled the ‘terrible twos!’
So …” continued
Chelsey, looking at Amanda’s puzzled face, “when you get to be a
teenager and you begin to find out how life works, you get labelled
as moody, un-cooperative, don’t want to be seen with the parents …
you know, that sort of thing.”
Amanda laughed. “How do you come up with this stuff?”
Chelsey shrugged her shoulders as she walked ahead. “I didn’t. I just read about it in a magazine.”
“Well maybe you are right about some of it, but Mom sure is acting different now, and I don’t think it’s my imagination. Before we moved here and she was just a small town reporter with the local newspaper, she would always have time to spend with us, come to school sports days or take us to the movies. And she never complained about my room or if I was occasionally late for dinner.”
“Hm,” said Chelsey, screwing up her nose. She wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. “So I guess you didn’t ask her about the school project?”
“Are you serious?” Amanda stopped walking and stared at Chelsey. “Not after this morning. Besides, I am forever asking her the same question about my birth parents and I keep getting the same answer. It’s always the same thing. I think she must have it programmed in her brain!” Amanda imitated her mother’s voice. “Now Amanda, we’ve already been over this before. We are your family and have been since you were nine months old. There is nothing more to discuss.”
“So what are you going to do, then? Mrs. Phillips will expect you to come up with some idea on a family tree for the last project of the semester. We are supposed to be starting it soon.”
“I’m not sure, but hey, today is Saturday. No school, no parents, just horses! Let’s go!”
Laughing, the two girls hurried through the high stone archway and onto the cobbled stone yard. Amanda never tired of the pleasant scene before her; the hustle and bustle of a typical Saturday morning at the stables. Loud laughter and chatter filled the air, as kids waited excitedly to mount their ponies for a riding lesson or a trail ride. Horses pawed the ground impatiently, their metal horse shoes striking the cobblestones. Their tails swished as they anxiously waited for the day to begin. Their snorts and the chinking of bits mingled with the last minute instructions called out by the Instructors. All these sounds sent a ripple of excitement through Amanda’s body. Excitement and anticipation of a day filled with fun and friends. “Come on,” she cried, pulling on Chelsey’s arm.
Stepping into the saddle room she paused, breathing in her favourite smells. The soapy aroma of freshly cleaned leather mixed with the sweaty odour of sheepskin saddle pads laid out to dry, filled the room. Amanda touched the smooth, supple mahogany-coloured leather of one of the many saddles resting on brackets along one wall. She could feel the last remnants of slippery saddle soap absorbing into the leather. Hanging on the adjacent wall was a long row of bridles, their flexible plain or braided reins held up by a narrow throat latch, their bits polished like silverware.
Picking up an oblong, wooden grooming box full of brushes, Amanda crossed the yard, pausing to stroke one of the fluffy ginger kittens playing with a stalk of straw. Hurrying on, she reached a horse stall at the far end, and stopped at the dark green half-door, bearing a brass name-plate, ‘Jerah’s Lancer.’ She could hear the gelding licking the last morsel of grain from the black rubber feed tub attached to the back wall. Opening the stall door, she called, “Hello Lancer.” Lancer lifted his head and nickered on hearing Amanda’s voice. She put on his leather halter, and chose a short-bristled body brush and a rubber curry comb from the grooming box. Beginning behind his ear, she drew the brush over his smooth, liver chestnut coat. “This will have to be a quick groom today, Lancer, as I have to be home early.” She spoke softly as she brushed. Lancer lifted his head up and then dropped it down as if he understood what she was saying.
Next she took a cloth from the box, formed it into a pad, and wiped it lightly over his body and legs, and then polished his face. Pushing back the silky, ginger coloured forelock, she scratched the large white star between his kindly brown eyes. She traced her fingers lightly over the narrow strip that connected to the star and spread down the front of his face. Sensing his owner’s mood, Lancer gently nickered, rubbing his head softly into Amanda’s chest. Together they stood quietly, the gelding content to be close. Amanda sighed. “Funny thing, Lancer, I know more about you and your family than I do about my own.” Slipping off the halter and giving him a pat, she picked up her grooming box.
Footsteps sounded on the cobblestones. “Are you ready?” asked Chelsey, stopping by the door. A piece of straw was stuck in her over-sized tee shirt. Her small round face, encircled by straight, limp black hair, looked pale, but her smile showed off the deep dimples in her cheeks. Amanda knew that Chelsey had been sick for most of the winter with bouts of bronchitis, and she worried about her. But she also admired the way her friend shrugged off her health problems, refusing to obey the doctor’s orders to be careful not to do too much strenuous activity. Chelsey had spunk. That’s probably what had attracted Amanda to her in the first place. Amanda locked the half-door, and the two girls hurried across the yard to collect their tack.
Saddled up and mounted, they set off at a brisk trot along the bridle path and up the long hill behind the farm. On reaching the top of the hill they stopped, allowing Lancer and Zombie to rest for a moment. As they looked across the valley, Chelsey turned to Amanda. “So what are you …?”
“Chelsey, lay off! It’s Saturday. I don’t want to think about school for two whole days.”
“Well, you have to. We’ve only got until Wednesday to come up with ideas for a family tree,” Chelsey persisted, looking into her friend’s troubled face.
“I don’t have a family tree!” Amanda retorted. Her green eyes flashed angrily, her freckled cheeks reddening. She turned away from Chelsey. “How can I work on something I know nothing about?”
“What do you mean; you don’t have a family tree? You have the Millers. They are your family.”
“They are my adopted family. That’s not the same.” Annoyed by Chelsey’s questions and frustrated by her dilemma, Amanda gathered up her reins. Giving Lancer a kick with her heels, she took off at a smart trot. Lancer’s long strides easily covered the ground as he lengthened into an extended trot.
As Amanda disappeared around the bend in the trail, Chelsey shook her head. She urged Zombie forward, following her friend.
Chapter 3
THE WIND BLEW in Amanda’s face as she cantered ahead. Her eyes filled with angry tears as she tried to erase the frustration she was feeling. It was bad enough not knowing who she was but now she had to do a project on it. Wiping away a stray tear, she leaned forward over Lancer’s long, sleek neck. As he felt her weight lifting off his back, the powerful muscles in his hindquarters propelled him faster. His ears flattened back, his mane and tail flying in the wind; he lengthened his strides, extending into a gallop. As the wind buffeted her, Amanda’s skin felt stretched. She gulped for air, feeling Lancer’s powerful acceleration beneath her. Flecks of saliva, like silvery threads caught by the wind, sailed past her. Lancer’s nostrils flared and vibrated with every beat of his hooves hitting the ground. Prrrp!… Prrrp! The rhythmical pounding of hoof beats and the snorting sounds of both horses breathing hard from the exertion was music to Amanda’s ears. This is what life is supposed to feel like, she thought, as they galloped side by side, carefree and happy. No arguments, no hard feelings, just … happiness.
As they neared a small clump of elm trees, Amanda and Chelsey reined in their horses and slowly broke into a trot and then a walk. The girls lengthened their reins, allowing the horses to relax and catch their breath. They stopped by the trees and dismounted, loosened their girths and pulled up their stirrup irons. Taking the reins over their horses’ heads, they let Lancer and Zombie graze on the short tufts of grass. The girls removed their riding helmets, then sat down on a large smooth rock, and munched on the apples they had brought with them.
“That felt great,” exclaimed Amanda. She bit off a chunk of apple and gave it to Lancer. “The wind blew all my frustrations away.”
“Good. I hate it when you get mad.” Seeing Amanda’s scowling face she quickly added, “But, I remember. It’s Saturday!”
Laughing, Amanda playfully punched Chelsey’s arm. “That’s what I like about you, Chelsey. You can read my moods. Just like my dad and Sam can. Now if only mom wouldn’t be so critical and expect me to be perfect, and if Julie would stop being ‘Miss high and mighty’, life wouldn’t be nearly as difficult.”
“You, perfect? Now that would take a miracle!” The girls laughed. Standing up and stretching, Chelsey asked “When is Sam coming home?”
“His year-end exams are coming up next week. Hopefully he will come home soon after that. I’ll be glad to see him. He’s been away at Med School for so long and I miss him being around, not only because he sticks up for me but I really enjoy his company.” Looking at her watch, she announced, “Time to go.”
After giving their apple cores to the horses, the girls tightened girths, flipped the reins back over their horses’ heads, pulled down the stirrup irons, and mounted. The late spring morning sun, having burned off the mist in the valley, was now high in the sky. Turning for home the two friends encouraged their horses into a brisk trot. Breaking into a canter along the ridge of the hill, Amanda shouted, “Come on, one last gallop.” Urging their horses forward, the girls galloped neck and neck before Lancer surged ahead, staying in front all the way until they reached the end of the ridge.
“Whoa Zombie!” shrieked a breathless Chelsey, easing her horse into a walk. “Gosh Amanda, Lancer sure can move! I thought Zombie was fast but we couldn’t keep up with you. It’s like Lancer had grown wings, just like Pegasus, the winged horse.”
The girls loosened the reins, letting their horses stretch their heads and necks down and recover after their exhilarating gallop. Suddenly, Amanda stopped and exclaimed, “That’s it! Brilliant, Chelsey!”
“What’s brilliant?” asked Chelsey, stopping beside her.
“Wings!”
“Wings? What are you talking about?”
Turning to her friend, her eyes sparkling, Amanda declared, “Wings! You said wings, just like Pegasus the winged horse!”
“What’s so brilliant about that?”
“Remember, Mrs. Phillips spoke about the importance of Roots … knowing where you came from? And Wings …what you will do when you grow up?”
“Yes.” Chelsey frowned, not knowing where this line of thought was going.
“I don’t know about my roots or where my wings will come from, but I do know about Lancer’s roots and wings. I’ll do my project on him!”
“You …” started Chelsey, then bit back her words. She abruptly changed her mind, seeing her friend’s happy face.
“Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll talk to Mrs. Phillips on Wednesday,” said Amanda, nodding. They silently rode back to the stables, each occupied with their own thoughts.
After giving Lancer a quick rub down and wiping her saddle and bridle clean, Amanda waved goodbye to Chelsey, collected her bicycle, and pedalled away from the stables. Her spirits were high as she free-wheeled down the hill. Stopping at the bottom, she dropped her bike on the grassy bank between the road and a stone wall. Leaning over the wall, she looked in on the large garden bordered on two sides by more stone walls, one higher than the other. New shoots of flowering vines were already clinging to the wooden trellis attached to the walls, and she could see rows of scarlet red tulips, in full bloom, standing like red-coated soldiers guarding the gravelled pathway. Amanda always tried to make time to stop and admire the garden every time she passed by after leaving the stables. She liked to study the layout of the flower beds, and now she eagerly awaited the emergence of perennials and brightly coloured annuals that she was sure would appear very soon. She didn’t know who owned the walled garden, or the elegant, old stone house, but she had fallen in love with it the first time she had seen it.
It looked like something out of a romantic novel, featuring beautiful gardens and a large stone house at the turn of the century, steeped in mystery. The small, lead paned windows glinting in the sunlight seemed to protect secrets from within. The large, oak door with its black iron knocker, and the ivy clinging to the house walls, creeping up to the roof, added to the mystery.
Once, she had caught a glimpse of an elderly lady wearing a broad-brimmed straw hat, stooping over a rose bush. But mainly it was just the gardener she had seen, working in the flower beds or pruning the neat hedges and ornamental trees.
One day, she thought, one day I will design gardens like this.
Amanda picked up her bike and pedalled towards home. She felt happy having solved the problem of her school project and excited because her dad was coming home today. Being a senior pilot with an international airline, he was away from home a lot. But when he was home, he and Amanda always spent quality time together, side by side, weeding and planting the flower gardens. It was so good to have someone to share her love of flowers with, and each year he always encouraged her to think of a new design they could incorporate into the garden. Our new garden will need a lot of work, she thought, as ideas for designs filled her mind. Her dad didn’t know her secret hopes. Nobody did yet, but his encouragement always gave her desire and dream of becoming a landscape architect a boost. Maybe that will become my wings to fly, she thought, as she put her bicycle in the garage and walked towards the house.
She could hear the sounds of pots and pans banging loudly as she opened the kitchen door. “Hi Julie, what are you doing?”
“Getting dinner organized, what does it look like?” snapped Julie, scowling at Amanda with her brown eyes blazing.
“Okay, okay. Don’t shout. I’ll just have a quick shower and then I’ll help you,” said Amanda, holding up her hands.
“Pee … yooo! What a stink! It will take more than a quick shower to get rid of that smell,” remarked Julie, pinching her nose tightly.
Amanda was about to retaliate but changed her mind. She didn’t want to get into an argument. Once a day is enough she thought, thinking back to the stand-off with her mother that morning. Leaving the kitchen, she headed up the stairs, thinking how alike Julie and her mother were; always ready to find fault, never having anything good to say. “I’ll be down in a minute and then I’ll lay the table for dinner, before giving you a hand with the vegetables,” she called out.
Stripping off her blue sweater, which was covered in bits of straw, she heard the hall clock strike four. Plenty of time, she thought. She stepped out of her jeans and headed for the bathroom, oblivious to the trail of straw and hay seeds that had dropped off of her clothes and onto the stairs and her bedroom carpet.
As she finished dressing, Amanda heard the sound of car doors closing. She rushed down the stairs two steps at a time. Excitedly, she opened the front door. “Hello Mom! Hi Dad, it’s great to see you!” She flung herself at her father and standing on tip-toes, wrapped her arms around him, hugging tightly.
“Wow, that’s some welcome!” he said, laughing at her exuberance. “Let me put down my luggage so I can hug you properly. Amanda glowed in his presence. His tall frame towered above her. His short dark hair complimented the well-cut black suit he wore. The gold wings attached to the jacket’s lapel and the gold braids embroidered on the sleeves of his jacket signified his pilot status. She felt a sense of pride and love that made her problems seem rather trivial when he was home.
Stepping back after greeting her, he rested his large hands on her shoulders. “Look at you! I do believe you’ve grown some more, Bugsy, since I’ve been away.” There was kindness in his twinkling brown eyes as he looked into her face. Amanda adored the sound of her father’s voice. It was deep and his words were always so sincere and full of love; such a contrast from her mom’s terse words and Julie’s whiny voice. Bugsy was a special name that he and Sam had for her. It had come about when she was small. She used to be forever gathering bugs and worms out of the soil where they were digging. Never wanting to see anything hurt, she would carefully carry away the tiny creatures to the corner of the garden, where she would put them safely in the tall grass.
Smiling happily, she slipped her arm through his as she walked beside him up the front steps, where Julie was standing waiting.
“Hello Dad. How was your flight?”
“Good thanks. And how are you? You look as pretty as ever.” He gave her a peck on the cheek before stepping into the hallway.
Tossing back her curls, the colour of sun-kissed wheat, Julie gave him a sweet smile, and cast a gloating look at Amanda before she turned away. A look that said, See, he thinks I’m prettier than you.
Amanda puckered her lips and silently challenged Julie to say something smart, as she usually did, but Julie wasn’t about to give Amanda the satisfaction, not in front of their dad.
“Is dinner ready, Julie?” inquired their mother, as the two girls stared at each other.
Julie turned her back on Amanda. “Yes, it’s all ready.”
Everyone was eager to find out which countries their father had flown to and what he had seen, as they sat around the dinner table.
“Thank you for getting the dinner ready, Julie.” Sophia smiled at her eldest daughter as she scooped a small spoonful of potatoes onto her plate.
“I helped too,” piped up Amanda, feeling a twinge of hurtful rejection from her mother’s readiness to only thank her sister.
“Of course, Amanda, thank you,” replied her mother quickly.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the table as the dishes of food were passed around.
“So Julie, how are things at school?”
“Great, Dad. We had another career day last week. I and a lot of my friends from last year didn’t know what we wanted to do after graduation, so Grade 10 has added an extra career day. That was pretty cool, hearing what my friends were thinking of doing.”
“Have you decided yet what you are going to do?”
“Yes. I think I’m going to try and take courses that will be useful for a career in fashion design. I’ll need, among other credits, Grade 12 English, Math, and Art, and maybe some Tech courses.”
“Fashion!” said Amanda, nearly choking on the water she was drinking.
Julie glared at her from across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean? For your information, fashion means well fitting clothes, beautiful materials and creative designs. But you wouldn’t know that, as you only wear jeans and tee shirts!” she said rudely.
“Julie! That was uncalled for. Apologize to your sister,” scolded her father.
Flustered, Julie glanced at her mother for support. Seeing none, she quickly mumbled ‘sorry’ without looking at Amanda.
“So, how are you doing at school, Amanda?” he asked, turning and smiling at her.
“Pretty good, I guess. I do well in Art and Geography, but subjects like Math and French, well, they’re not so good.”
Putting down her knife and fork, Amanda’s mother said, “If you haven’t improved by the time your next report card comes home, I think we need to seriously consider sending you to summer school to catch up.”
“No Mom, please, not that! I’ll work harder, I promise.”
Julie sniggered, and without thinking said, “Well I guess you won’t need too much education if you’re just going to ride horses!”
Amanda was surprised to see her usually calm father obviously becoming agitated. Before he could say anything, she quickly responded, “Who says I’m going to do that?” She was furious at her sister’s stinging remark.
“Girls, that is quite enough! What sort of homecoming is this for your father?” interjected their mother and then anxiously dabbed her lips with her napkin.
Fuming internally, Amanda looked daggers at Julie. In a low, deliberate voice she said, “I am going to be a landscape architect when I graduate.” There, I said it, she thought.
Julie and her mother stared open-mouthed at Amanda, who was still seething at Julie’s remarks. Her dad looked down at his plate, but not before Amanda saw a broad grin crease his face. Encouraged by his silent support, Amanda stood up, placing her hands on her hips. Nobody spoke. Her short crisp announcement had silenced them all. In a confident voice, she continued, “I know exactly which subjects I need to work harder on and I promise you I will do that. I also will get some summer jobs working as a gardener for experience.” She paused, waiting for a reaction. There was none. “Now, if you will excuse me, I think I’ll go to my room.” Thrusting her hands deep into her pant pockets, her head held high, she marched out of the dining room. Nobody spoke.
She ran up the stairs, into her bedroom and slammed the door. Leaning back against it, she exhaled deeply. She was infuriated. Her hands were still shaking. How dare Julie think I’m not good enough to have a career, she thought. Flinging herself across the bed, she grumbled fiercely, “Well I’ll show her that I can be just as good as her!”
Chapter 4
THE REST OF the weekend was uneventful. Amanda rode early in the morning before spending time with her dad in the garden. As they weeded and dug in the over-grown flower beds, they laughed and joked just like they used to do before they had moved.
“So you want to be a landscape architect, eh? That’s great, Bugsy. When did you decide that?”
“A long time ago in Nova Scotia, but I wanted to be sure before I said anything.”
“So, why now?” asked her dad as he dug deep into the soil.
Amanda sat back on her heels. Sifting soil through her fingers, she considered her words carefully before answering. I won’t use the upsetting conversation with Julie last night as a reason, she thought. Instead, she said, “I have seen some really great gardens since we’ve been in Glendale, one in particular on the way to the stables. I would really like to combine my love of art and flowers to create special garden designs. Designs that make people stop and admire, beautiful gardens that I will be able to say that I had designed myself.” She paused, throwing some weeds into the wheelbarrow before continuing. “Sam is going to be a doctor and Julie wants to be a fashion designer. This is what I want to do, Dad.” Her eyes sparkled at the thought of it.
“That sounds great, honey. Then you may as well begin right here and now.”
Amanda frowned as she stood up and stretched. “Begin what now?”
“Why, designing this garden of course.” He gestured at the large, unruly garden. “I’ll leave you to think of wonderful ways to put this wilderness into some order and beauty. How about you start on some plans and ideas while I’m away on my next trip?”
“Wow, that’s cool Dad. Do you mean it?”
“Absolutely! I leave it in your capable hands to make our garden the talk of the town!” He smiled, watching a glow of pleasure light up her face. “Now, back to weeding, because you have to earn your wings if you want to be a landscape architect, and that means doing the grubby work first.”
There’s that word ‘wings’ again, thought Amanda. Her heart beat fast as she happily attacked another clump of weeds. Now I must really work hard on my school work if I’m going to get the grades I need.
Amanda listened carefully as Mrs. Phillips went over the details again with the class, for the last assignment of the year. Satisfied that she understood, Amanda didn’t feel the need to speak to the teacher about her decision to write about Lancer. But I will write her a note explaining my reasons for doing it, she thought. When the afternoon bell rang, she hurried out of the school. She and Chelsey grabbed their bicycles. Zigzagging around groups of students waiting to board the school buses, they left the school yard and hurried to the stables for a quick ride.
On the way back to the barn after riding their horses in the outdoor ring, the two girls discussed the upcoming schooling show. They used the schooling shows to prepare for the big horse show that Thistledown Stable organized each August. After they dismounted, Chelsey grabbed Amanda’s arm. “So what did Mrs. Phillips say about your project? I’m dying to know.”
“Everything’s cool. I know what to do so I didn’t need to talk to her.” Amanda was quite vague and Chelsey decided not to press her to enlarge on her answer.