Hot Potato (Shelby and Blue) - Alyssa Brugman [39]
It wouldn't happen again. Clint had his money.
Tammy need never know that it was lost. Erin was going to help out at the stables until she was well, and Hotty would be sold before she broke anyone else. Shelby smiled and closed her eyes. She didn't need to worry about anything. Soon everything was going to go back to normal.
27 Annual Barbecue
Shelby walked along the row of tables with her paper plate, surveying the possibilities. Mrs Crook had made the massive container of potato salad. Shelby could tell because she was standing behind it, holding the serving spoon and doling out scoops to the worthy.
There were fluffy bread rolls with little squares of butter in alfoil, slices of beetroot, and pineapple chunks. There was coleslaw, tabbouleh and a platter of marinated chicken wings. Erin's mum had brought those slimy green dolmades again – much to Erin's horror – but, judging from the number left in the Tupperware dish, the adults were enjoying them.
One of the mums was flipping sausages and minute steaks on the barbecue. The other parents hovered nearby, offering advice – ready to take over the tongs and egg-slice at the first opportunity.
Shelby had taken a painkiller before they left home. She felt a little bit bleary and vague, like when you wake up in the middle of a dream. Her face didn't hurt, but she could feel a steady thrum of discomfort on one side of her head. When she woke up that morning there was a hoof-shaped bruise on her stomach and a graze on her hip, but neither was hurting now.
She wasn't sure if eating was still going to be painful so she experimented, tucking a wedge of tomato between her teeth on the undamaged side of her face. It wasn't too bad, but she realised she wasn't hungry. Wow! I don't think I've ever lost my appetite before, she thought.
Despite Mrs Edel's request, several of the families had brought their dogs, and a group of the younger girls had dragged the jumps out from where they had been stacked in the corner and were holding a jumping competition for all the dogs.
Lindsey had volunteered to be the judge so she could make sure that it didn't become too rowdy. Erin, on the other hand, was contributing to the raucousness. She was sitting on one of the brightly coloured forty-four-gallon drums, and when a round was complete she'd bang on it with one of her hands. In her other hand she was using one of the arena's witch's hats to provide a running commentary.
There was a tan border collie who was doing very well, but not all of the dogs caught on so quickly. A furry black cocker spaniel kept ducking under the brightly coloured poles.
'Once again we have Olivia and Spanky approaching the jump at a nice loping canter. Will Spanky make it over this time? Errrr!' called Erin, mimicking a buzzer.
The dog's young owner shouted, 'Spanky! Naughty boy!' Spanky glanced up at her, bounding, tongue lolling, and then at the next jump he slipped under the pole again.
'What a shame. That's another penalty, eliminating this fine combination once again from the competition. Will the judge overlook this obvious disqualification one more time?' A nod from Lindsey. 'Yes, I thought so,' mused Erin.
Shelby smiled and held her sore cheek.
She was especially happy today because one of the conditions her mum set out for her coming to the barbecue was that her dad stayed, instead of dropping her off, like he usually did.
'I think you'll be too tired to stay the whole time,' her mother had said in the morning. 'You do appreciate that your dad will have to hang around the whole time like a soccer parent, don't you?'
Shelby realised that her parents thought she wouldn't want them there. She shook her head. All this time she'd hoped that her mum and dad would become friendly with the other