Free High Hurdles by Lauraine Snelling

be able to put money in my horse fund after Tuesday.”
    When DJ got home, the table was set in the dining room with a jade green cloth and matching print napkins—in napkin rings no less. Gran’s good china and sterling silver were set for four. Green candles flanked a low arrangement of peach roses.
    “Wow, does this look cool or what? What’s the name of that man who’s coming?”
    “Joe Crowder, Captain Joe Crowder.” Lindy turned from arranging salad on separate plates.
    “Right. He must be something pretty special. It’s not Christmas or Easter, is it?”
    “You just hustle up and shower. And no jeans. In fact, a dress would be nice.”
    “That’ll be the day.” DJ pulled a can of soda from the fridge.
    “I don’t need that kind of attitude right now.” Mom swiped a hair off her forehead with the back of her hand.
    “I mean, I don’t have a dress to wear.” Surely her mother had lost her mind.
    “A skirt then.”
    DJ groaned. “Skirts are gross.” After popping the can top, she took a long drink. “Where’s Gran?” Her mother hadn’t done all the cooking—had she? That would be bad.
    “She’s changing.” Lindy wrapped the salad plates in plastic wrap and set them in the fridge.
    “What are we having?” Her mother’s skill ran to hamburgers or spaghetti. If it didn’t come in a box, she couldn’t make it.
    “Are you going to get ready or not?”
    DJ wanted to say “not” but thought the better of it. Her mother didn’t look as if she was in the mood for any teasing. “I’m going, I’m going.” She could at least have asked about our pony party, DJ thought as she climbed the stairs. Leave it to my mother not to ask. She’s more worried about a dinner party for a man she hardly knows than about her own daughter . If she gave it some effort, DJ knew she could turn this evening into a full-blown pity party. “Wow, Gran, you look amazing.”
    Gran spun away from studying her reflection in the full-length mirror at the end of the hall. “I hope so. Your mother spent a fortune on this new outfit for me. I feel as if I’m on the auction block or something.” She turned so the skirt swirled about her calves.
    “That looks like something you might have painted.” DJ fingered the gauze fabric. “All swirly and all shades of blue. Leave it to Mom to find the perfect thing.”
    Gran turned and placed her hands along DJ’s cheeks. “Thanks, darlin’. How did the birthday party go?” Gran laughed in all the right places as DJ retold the story. “Well, I never. And to think she made you girls clean the carpet!”
    “Amy did that.” DJ patted her jeans pocket. “But at least all our bills are paid. Now we can make some money.”
    Gran took one more glance over her shoulder toward the mirror. “Well, here goes nothin’.” She started toward the stairs. “Oh, my stars, where’s my mind today! DJ, there was another call for you. A lady wondered if you could come tomorrow. Her clown called with the flu. I put the number on your dresser.”
    “Thanks, I’ll call her now.” DJ dialed, dollar signs dancing in her head.
    She could hear a man’s voice in the living room by the time she descended the stairs. Her skirt had been too tight, so she had improvised with a pair of dress pants and a striped blouse. No T-shirt and jeans. She paused at the bottom stair. At least the guy knew how to laugh.
    Hearing a man’s laugh in their house was sure strange. The pastor from their church had been their most recent male visitor, and that had been ages ago. His laugh hadn’t had the deep, happy sound of the man’s in the living room.
    “Hi, darlin’,” Gran said when DJ walked into the room. She beckoned DJ to her side. “This is my granddaughter, Darla Jean. She’s a real promising artist, but her first love is horses.”
    DJ barely kept herself from wincing. Darla Jean. Only her Gran, and sometimes her mother, got away with calling her that. She didn’t want this stranger calling