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this season. I heard Stacks
is here today, though. He’s a twenty-two hundred pound brahma that ain’t ever been ridden. I’d give
my right arm to ride him, but at the same time, I’d like to keep my record.”
    “Then just stay on his back for eight seconds,” I
said. “How hard can it be?” He looked up at me and I grinned.
    “Maybe one of these days you might like to try it
and find out for yourself,” he said with a laugh.
    “I’m sure I could do it. It really doesn’t sound
that hard.” He laughed again and then swung up on the horse. My chest actually
physically hurt and all kinds of things were going on below my belt.
    “I’ll just bet you could,” he said before riding
off. He left me standing there breathless and with my heart hammering against
my rib-cage. What an ass.
    I was still looking after him when my mother’s voice
startled me. “You want to go look around in the booths until it starts? Rob
found a seat and I doubt I’ll get him out of it until it’s time to go.”
    “Sure,” I said. “What do they have in the booths?”
Mom was leading me towards a long row of wooden kiosks. It looked like a street
fair almost. Kids were getting their faces painted and clowns were blowing up
balloons.
    “A lot of handmade things,” she said. “Jewelry,
knick-knacks, you name it.” We went up to the first stand and it was a
collection of things leather. There were leather chaps and boots and vests. I
looked at the chaps and let my dirty mind picture Mark in a pair of them before
the shop keeper said, “You look like you could use a real pair of boots.” I
looked down at the ones on my feet and I saw the corner of Mom’s mouth quirk
up.
    “What’s wrong with my boots?”
    The shop keeper, a big, Native American man said,
“Nothing at all, Miss – if you’re in New York or L.A. They’re…shiny.”
    I laughed at the look on his face. “Real boots
aren’t supposed to be shiny?”
    “Ask this beautiful lady next to you,” he said about
my mom. “Look at her boots, perfect.” Mom laughed as I looked down at her feet.
Her boots were exactly the same as the pair he had on display.
    “You didn’t happen to buy those here, did you?” I
asked her.
    She was smiling. “No…but I did buy them from his
shop in town.”
    Shaking my head and suddenly self-conscious of my
five hundred dollar boots I said, “Fine, I’ll take a pair in a size
seven…non-shiny please.” The big Indian grinned and winked at my mom.
    “Come on in this week, Mrs. Roberts, and I’ll take
care of that discount for you.”
    “Why you little sneak. You get a discount for
steering customers this way.” She just laughed and then she completely negated
her own discount by paying for my boots. I tried to argue with her, but truth be told, the money all comes from the same place anyways: her.
    We looked around a little more and bought a homemade
root beer and a funnel cake before we heard the event was about to begin. We
made our way back to the stands and Rob. I saw mom offer him a bite of her funnel
cake and he just wrinkled his nose at her. Rob didn’t look as happy today or
seem as good to my mom as he had last night. Come to think of it, I had barely
heard him say two words all the way up here. I hoped that he and Mom weren’t
having problems. She seemed happy and thrilled to be here, so I doubted that.
It must just be his own stuff.
    “Have you seen him ride before?” I asked Mom.
    “No. I’m really happy we came today. He talks about
it all the time…”
    She wasn’t finished when Rob interrupted her by sarcastically
repeating, “All the time.” I didn’t like him being rude to my Mom, and I
wondered why he suddenly seemed to have a chip on his shoulder about his son.
Or was that there last night and I just didn’t see it?
    Mom just furrowed her brow at him and went on to
say, “This is the first one we’ve had a chance to attend.”
    The announcer came on then and welcomed everyone and
announced