Free Racing Savannah by Miranda Kenneally Page B

to McDonald’s as a special treat.
    Dad puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer. “I’m not sick,” he says quietly, glancing over at Cindy. “It’s the exact opposite. We went to the doctor this afternoon for a gender ultrasound.”
    “Let’s order pie and have a toast with our forks,” I say, raising a hand to wave down a waitress.
    “Shortcake, don’t you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?” Cindy asks.
    Part of me wants to know, and part of me doesn’t. “Whatever it is, we’re still getting pie.” I wave my arm at the waitress. She’s standing behind the counter yapping on her cell phone.
    Cindy’s face falls and Dad gently curls a hand around the back of my neck.
    “Savannah…” Dad’s tone brings my attention back to him instead of pie procurement.
    “I guess Cindy’s gonna need a double order of pie,” I say, trying to delay the conversation. If things were different for my family, I wouldn’t mind so much that they’re having a baby. “So what is it?”
    Cindy grins shyly. “It’s a girl.”
    “Oh.”
    “What’s wrong? Talk to me,” Dad says, kissing the side of my head.
    “I was thinking about tomorrow,” I lie, not wanting to discuss the baby. I lightly run my fingers over spilled salt on the sticky table.
    “What’s tomorrow?” Cindy asks.
    “I ate lunch with Jack Goodwin today, and he asked me to work with Star personally on starting gate training.”
    “And?” Dad asks.
    “I said okay. I told Jack I’d meet him first thing.”
    “Shortcake, there are other boys out there,” Cindy says slowly, shaking her head. Does she have to call me that?
    “It’s one thing to work with his horse, but I don’t want you around him,” Dad says. “I don’t want you to upset Mr. Goodwin.”
    What if they knew he nearly kissed me last night?
    Cindy nervously taps her knife on a plate. “Have you been spending time with Jack? At breakfast this morning, I overheard him telling his little sister how much you impress him and that you’re a good role model.”
    A role model ? Talk about the last thing you want a guy to say about you. “He was talking about me?”
    “What’s going on with you and Jack?” Dad asks in a rush.
    “Nothing,” I say, my face flashing hot.
    “Shortcake, you know we don’t need any drama right now. Not with a baby on the way.” How unfair. He’s the one who got his girlfriend pregnant.
    My mind is all screwed up because I loved eating lunch with Jack, and I like working with him and Star, working toward something together, and I can’t sort it out in mind, and I’m gonna have a sister who’ll go through the same shit that I’ve been through—growing up eating the free lunch, not having much for dinner, and wearing yard-sale clothes—and I can’t even flirt with Jack without feeling guilty, because Dad and Cindy are having a baby they didn’t plan for.
    “I’m just helping with Star,” I say. “That’s all.”
    “You don’t need to work with Star on the gate,” Dad says, sipping his coffee. His hand shakes as he sets the cup back on the table. “I’ll talk to Jack in the morning and take over Star’s training personally if he’s that worried about the colt.”
    “Dad, it’s okay. I can handle it…Can we get some pie over here?” I call out.
    The waitress finally hangs up her phone, and soon we’re toasting my new sister over rhubarb pie.
    If pie only cured confusion.
    • • •
    The next morning I meet Jack at Greenbriar barn at 5:00 a.m. The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon, and the grass is still damp with dew.
    “Morning,” he says, tipping his hat, giving me a grin that makes my palms go sweaty.
    Along with Star, we bring Mr. Goodwin’s stallion Lucky Strikes with us to the gate. This horse won the Preakness and the Breeders’ Cup a few years back. People who don’t know horseracing think the Kentucky Derby is the most important race in the world, but the Breeders’ Cup in California