“You’ve got this,” Frank assured me as I stared at the riding ring in front of me and tried to remember how to breathe.
“Totally,” Dawn said, giving my shoulders a squeeze. Collins’s mouth was full, but he gave me a thumbs-up.
I was back at Saddleback Ranch, figuring that at this point, so close to the end, I should follow Sloane’s list to the letter. And it didn’t say pony ride. When I’d told Frank I was ready to give it another shot, he’d booked the time, and then everyone else had decided to come along. They claimed it was for moral support, but I had a feeling it was to stop me from bailing again. And since Dawn was here—wielding my How Emily Sees the World disposable camera—it wasn’t like I’d be able to take a call from her and pretend it was urgent.
The horse that I was going to be riding was named Butterscotch, which seemed much better to me than Bucky, and Frank had assured me that he’d requested their smallest non-pony horse. The woman in charge had told me what to expect before she went to get the horse from the stables. She’d offered me a trail ride, which I had immediately turned down. When she finally seemed to get that I was only doing this to conquer a fear, she’d proposed just having the horse walk with me around the ring a few times.
“Aw, it’s so cute!” Dawn said. I turned to see where she was looking, and saw the Saddleback Ranch woman leading out a lumbering horse who looked half asleep. It didn’t put me at ease—it was still a horse, after all—but it was about half the size of Bucky, and the very sight of it didn’t terrify me.
“Not at all evil or scary,” Frank said, giving me a smile.
“Do you want to go make friends with it first?” Dawn asked. “Matthew, give Emily the snacks.”
Collins swallowed, looking alarmed. “Um . . . what do you mean?”
Dawn smiled at him. “So we can give them to the horse! The carrot sticks?”
“Oh,” Collins said, after a pause. “You see, you should have told me we were bringing snacks for the horse. I thought they were for us. My bad.”
“Wait, you ate all of them?” Dawn asked, taking her canvas bag back from Collins and peering inside. “The apple too? And where are the sugar cubes?”
“You’re telling me we brought the sugar for a horse?” Collins asked, incredulous. “What does a horse need sugar for?”
“I can’t believe you just ate raw sugar cubes,” Dawn said, shaking her head.
“They’re sugar cubes!” Collins said, his voice rising. “What else are you supposed to do with them? And since when do horses get snacks?”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Really.” While I appreciated the thought, I didn’t want to put my hand anywhere near the horse’s mouth and give it an opportunity to bite me.
“Ready?” the woman called from the center of the ring.
I felt everyone’s eyes swivel over to me, and I nodded, and made myself walk toward the horse, even though the only thing I wanted to do was turn and run back to my car. The woman helped me get one foot into the stirrup, and I swung my other leg over the horse’s back. Once I was in the saddle, I gripped the reins, bracing myself for the worst—the horse would throw me off, or start running at a gallop, or drop to the ground and roll over me. But none of that happened. Butterscotch just stood there, her sides expanding slightly under my legs as she breathed in and out.
“You look great!” Dawn called, giving me a thumbs-up.
“Oh, you know what? It looks like Butterscotch fell asleep,” the woman said. “Just give her a gentle kick.”
That sounded like a terrible idea to me, but once I nudged her a little, Butterscotch woke up, shaking her head in a way that made me grab onto the saddle. But that was about as violent as she got. She started to lumber around the ring, and I didn’t have to do anything. It was like she’d done this hundreds of times and knew just where to go. I would occasionally feel myself start to panic as I felt the horse moving beneath me, but I tried just to keep breathing. After all, I had hugged gas station employees and almost gotten in fights and kissed strangers in pantries. I could do this.
And as she walked around the ring, not seeming at all like she had any desire to knock me off her back and make a run for it—and truly, if she did, it wasn’t that far to fall—I started to breathe a little easier. This wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t something I was going to start doing on a regular basis, but it was okay. I was okay.
“Smile!” Dawn yelled from the side of the ring, holding up my disposable camera. I gave her what I was sure was more like a grimace, but I was actually glad that she was documenting this. And as Butterscotch and I went around the ring one last time, I even felt myself relaxing just a little bit, trying to enjoy, if I could, what was left of the ride.
“So where are you with the list?” Collins asked as we all congregated around our cars. I think the woman had seemed surprised that I had only wanted to be on the horse for five minutes, but helped me down anyway, and I’d even given Butterscotch a tentative—very gentle—pat as she went back to the stables.
We’d taken four separate cars there, which probably wasn’t great for our carbon footprints, but when I’d asked Frank if he wanted to carpool, he’d told me that he had to get ready for something right after, and was vague when I asked him for details.
“Three left,” Dawn said, her brow furrowed. “Or four. Right?”
Before I could answer, Frank jumped in. “Three. Dancing, the dress, and skinny-dipping.”
I nodded, all too aware that I’d left two of the hardest ones for last. Whereas the dress thing had been taken care of with Frank’s invitation, and I supposed I could always just dance all night in my room with my iPod playing, the skinny-dipping was still one that I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage. But even despite that, the fact that I’d crossed off most of the list was still surprising to me. It had seemed so impossible when it had first showed up—and now it was almost over.
“Oh,” Dawn said, looking down at her phone, her eyes widening. “I should get going.”
“Deliveries?” Collins asked, handing her back the empty canvas bag.
“I wish,” she sighed. “We’re catering a wedding tonight at the Stanwich Country Club, and I have to help serve.”
“You are?” Frank asked, sounding surprised.
“Yeah,” Dawn said, with a shrug. “Sometimes people have different stations, for the food, you know, like sushi or whatever. And these people wanted an Italian station, so . . .”
Frank looked at Dawn a moment longer, then turned to me. “You should crash the wedding.”
“What?” I asked, just as Collins asked, “She should?”
“Yeah,” Frank said, nodding. “Dance until dawn!”
“I’m sorry,” Collins said, shaking his head. “Who are you and what have you done with Frank Porter?”
“I can sneak you in!” Dawn said, clapping her hands together. “And we can hang out. I’m always so bored at those things, and everyone always pretends they can’t see you. What are you going to wear?”
I turned to Frank, who was looking at me with a small smile, a challenge in his eyes. It would be a great opportunity to cross one off. And since I’d worked there last summer, I was pretty sure I knew the Stanwich Country Club well enough to navigate my way around without getting caught. “Okay,” I said to Frank, then nodded at Dawn. “Let’s do this.”