Chapter 4: Apology, Live

By three that afternoon I had four horses settled in the Ockenden paddock and a saddle on a rail in the loft.

The loft was one long room above the tack barn.

It had a bed, a window, a hook for my coat and a hand-lettered sign over the door that said NO FLAME.

I was standing at the window with a mug of cold coffee when a white SUV came up the drive.

My mother got out first.

Daisy got out of the other side with a casserole dish in both hands and a ring light under one arm.

I went down the stairs and met them at the paddock fence.

"We came to make peace," my mother said.

She was carrying her good purse, and her eyes were pink.

"Your father hasn't eaten since this morning," she said. "He's sitting on the porch with the lights off."

"He tore up my check, Mom."

"He was upset."

"Della, please," Daisy said, and her voice shook.

She set the casserole on a fence post and unfolded the ring light on its little stand.

Then she took her phone out and held it up to her face.

"We're going to do this quick," she said. "I'll start, and then you say sorry for the scene, and we're done."

I looked at the phone.

"You want me to say sorry on camera."

"It helps with the comments. People are being really mean to you, and I hate it."

"People are being mean to me because of your video."

"That's not fair." Her mouth turned down and her eyes filled, fast and neat. "I'm trying to help."

My mother took my hand.

"Just say you overreacted, honey. Say you love us. Then it's over, and your father opens the barn, and we all go home."

I looked at her hand on mine.

She had held it the same way when I was nineteen and the fire trucks were still in the road.

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