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“Doesn’t Abby want to be here for this?” Mel asks as she steps out of the passenger seat of Frank’s truck and looks around. The farm is more beautiful than Mel had even imagined, with white slat fences and a tall timber-framed barn rising out of the rolling hills.
“Abby’s not really one for any animals bigger than Mario.” Frank laughs as he looks over the hood of the truck at her.
“Yeah, but it’s Penny’s first riding lesson!”
“Yeah, you and I know how cute it will be but I’m pretty sure all Abby is picturing is the smell of manure clinging to her for days after.” Frank rounds the side of the truck as Mel opens the back door to help her stepdaughter out of her booster seat. “She already made me promise to give her a bath before I bring her and Tanner back over there tonight,” he laughs.
“Mel!” She squeals as she jumps down into the pavement, her brand new little brown riding boots making the most adorable taps as she shimmies excitedly.
“Come on Pen,” her father murmurs, holding out his hand, “let’s go find the instructor and introduce ourselves.”
Penny bounces towards him as the braids Mel had put in her hair trail behind her, one on each side, both ending in poofy pink bows.
It’s not that Mel is jealous of Penny—but she does think, just for a moment, that she’s probably the luckiest girl in the world. Certainly luckier than Mel ever was at her age. Lucky to have a dad like Frank who would do whatever it took to give his kids the world.
And to Penny, the whole world basically narrowed down to ponies and her daddy.
Mel’s scope of things wasn’t much wider.
Frank. The kids. And even though she was too old to start riding now, she still loved horses.
She always had.
“Mel?” Frank asks over his shoulder, “you coming?”
She shuts the car door and hurries to catch up with them. She’d found a used pair of paddock boots in the consignment section of the tack shop where Frank had bought Penny's new riding wardrobe, and though they’re older, they still click satisfyingly on the concrete.
She takes Penny’s free hand and smiles down at her when the little girl glances up.
“You nervous?” Mel asks softly.
“A—a little. But mostly excited.” Her sweet voice trills as she squeezes Mel’s hand.
Mel looks up to find Frank grinning at her and a blush creeps up her neck at his attention—just like always. Just like it had the first time he held her hand three years ago. She loves the way he looks at her, and his smile is never as soft as it is when he catches her and his kids. Playing, or reading a book curled together in the corner of their bedroom, or when Tanner has a nightmare and he slips into bed between them and chooses to snuggle up with Mel.
She’s never had anyone love her the way Frank does, or the way his children do, and the fact that she gets to be a part of something so special, is still mind-boggling to her.
“Hey!” A chipper voice calls from just inside the open barn doors and pulls Mel from her thoughts, she tears her gaze away from Frank and looks to find the source of the distraction.
“Hi, uh, we’re the Langdons, we have a lesson with Mary?” Frank says as he steps towards the girl in jeans and riding boots, a helmet on her head with the straps hanging loose around her neck.
“That’s me!” Mary says excitedly, “And this must be Penny!”
Mel looks between Frank and Mary. She’s surprised at how young the instructor is, but then she remembers that Frank had told her that the younger kids were taught by the assistant instructor.
Penny drops her hand and rushes up to Mary.
“Do you have a spotted pony for me to ride?” She asks softly, and Mel smirks. She knows Penny’s favorite Breyer Horse is the spotted Knabstrupper. The one Mel’s mom had given her when she was ten, and Mel had happily passed down to Penny when she’d started talking about how much she wanted a pony of her own.
“There’s a spotted pony named Kenslo, but he’s a little mean, I think we’re gonna start you off on Snowball today, how’s that sound Penny?” Mary murmurs as she leads them into the barn and over towards a whiteboard on the wall.
“Is he white like a snowball?”
Penny leans in close to Mary as she looks over the names of horses and children on the board.
“You bet,” Mary laughs.
Mel feels herself grinning as she watches Penny nearly shake out of her boots with excitement.
“Oh, does your mommy ride too?” Mary asks as her eyes land on Mel’s own boots. They were a nice brand—Mel had looked them up after buying them—and looked pleasantly broken in.
“My mommy hates horses,” Penny says matter of factly, and Frank makes a strangled sound in his throat that Mel knows is him trying to stifle a laugh.
“Oh, I just thought…because of your boots,” Mary says as she looks up at Mel.
“Oh, I—I’m the stepmom,” She starts a little thrown off kilter, “And, no, no, I just got these second hand.” She kicks the ground a little, the rounded toes scuffing across the concreted floor of the barn.
“Have you ever ridden?” Mary asks.
“No, I always wanted to as a kid, but…I’m probably too old to start,” She sighs as Frank puts his hand on her back and steps a little closer.
“Who told you that?” Mary asks incredulously.
Mel wracks her mind, she doesn’t think anyone ever told her that, she just thought it. She’d always assumed it was like riding a bike, something you had to learn when you were young so that it stuck…
“We have plenty of girls and women who started riding later in life here, if you ever wanted to give it a go,” Mary explains as she straightens and reaches for a leather halter that is hung on the wall beside the whiteboard.
“Oh—“ Mel sighs, surprised and she glances back at Frank to find him already smiling at her encouragingly. “I—I don’t know if I have time,” she mutters, thinking about her already overwhelming schedule. Between Frank’s new attending hours in the Emergency Department, her new schedule in Family Medicine, Becca, and the kid’s custody schedules, it seems like a lot of time to set aside for something that’s just for her own enjoyment.
“Once you get started you can take lessons with Penny, so you dont have to make multiple trips out here every week,” Mary says as she starts walking towards the stalls. “No pressure, obviously, but it’s an option.”
Frank squeezes her arm softly, and looks at her with an excited smile.
“Um, yeah, that sounds like something to think about,” Mel sighs, shaking her head at Frank, trying to curb his enthusiasm. He just shrugs at her as they all follow Mary down the aisle to the far end of the barn.
She introduces Penny to Snowball, the roundest, shortest white pony Mel has ever seen, and the way her little cheeks inflate as she smiles makes Mel’s chest tight.
They’re walked through the process of grooming, and putting the tack on the pony, and Mary says that she’ll be there to help, but she expects Penny to be able to do this by herself eventually. Until then, Frank or Mel should learn so they can help her too. Mel takes her time when Mary hands her a brush and combs it through Snowball's soft coat all the while she watches Mary demonstrate how to put the saddle and bridle on.
“Alright, are we ready to go Penny?” Mary asks as she pulls the reins into her hands and passes them to the very excited seven-year-old.
Mary makes a point of looking between Penny and Mel every step of the way as she tells her how to lead the pony. Always stand to the side, always keep your hands below the head, and never wrap the reins around your fingers.
Mel makes a mental note of it all.
The small group walks to the ring, it’s nice enough to ride outside, Mary says, but they have an indoor arena for when it gets colder, and Mel pictures her and Penny bundled up in December making the trek out of the city to the barn.
Mary shows Penny that you mount the horse from the left side, how to swing her leg over the saddle and how to hold the reins all while Frank takes fifty thousand pictures on his phone—and throughout the full thirty minutes of private instruction Mel turns over what Mary had said to her in her mind.
There are lots of women who started riding later in life.
Mel’s done a lot of work to accept that she deserves the things she wants.
It started with Frank, if she’s honest.
It started when he’d told her about his divorce and looked at her like she held some kind of answer that she didn’t yet know herself.
But still Becca needs her, even though she’s so much more independent now with Adam, and his amazing family stepping in to help.
And the never ending roster of patients and appointments at the clinic still fills her weekdays to the point that she can hardly think about anything else until she’s home with Frank, watching TV in bed or playing soccer with Tanner in the backyard.
She loves her life more than she ever thought possible but some things still feel like too much. Like she doesn’t quite know what she's done to deserve them—and while she watches Penny, her amazing little butterfly girl, ride around in circles, she tries to imagine letting herself have one exorbitant thing that is just for fun—that exists for no reason other than the fact that she wants it.
Because while Frank is in many ways, hers entirely, he’s also Penny’s and Tanner’s. And while she loves everything about what her life has become, she still hasn’t let herself accept that there are things that can just be hers—
“Mel look!” Penny says as she strides past on Snowball. Mary has let the lead line go and she’s walking all by herself around the outside of the ring.
Her eyes brim with tears and she’s so, so incredibly proud of Penny for asking for what she wants, and of herself and Frank for being able to give it to her.
Penny makes it down to the far end of the arena and Frank pockets his phone quietly before reaching for her.
“You okay?” He asks softly, like always.
“Yes,” Mel murmurs, wiping at her eyes in a way that she hopes is subtle.
“I knew you liked horses. When you first suggested riding lessons for Penny, I thought you were just trying to make her happy,” he says as he tucks his arm around her hip and pulls her into his side.
Mel chuckles, “I know, you said something about brain injuries and Christopher Reeve when I brought it up.”
“Yeah.” Frank huffs out a small laugh and looks back across the arena at Penny and Snowball.
“But I didn’t know how much it meant to you, too.”
Mel sits with what he’s said and she realizes maybe just as belatedly as he has that it does mean something to her. It’s one of those things that she always wrote off as silly or frivolous after her parents told her they could never afford it. But the pages and pages of crayon horses in her notebooks as a girl, and the way she always wanted to play horse show, while Becca wanted to play house, swim to the front of her mind.
“Mel?”
“Frank…do you think—”she starts to say just as he looks back at her, his thick brows lowered in anticipation and Mel hesitates. Her long-held belief that she can’t just ask for the things she wants creeping into the back of her mind.
“Do I think you should take lessons with Penny?” He murmurs, finishing her thought for her.
She nods just as Mary calls Penny back to the center of the ring.
They both look up as the instructor calls them over too.
“Penny did great, she’s fearless!” Mary says as they track through the sand towards their daughter, whose face is lit with a kind of joy Mel’s only seen on very rare occasions, like Christmas morning or when Tanner falls down the stairs.
“Good job, baby!” Frank says, looking over at her.
“You did so good Pen,” Mel says as she rounds the other side of the pony and lays her hand on his neck. Snowball snorts and turns his head into her, knocking her back a little and she lets out a happy giggle.
“Hey, mama, can you hold Snowball while I help Penny down?” Mary asks, coming to stand beside her.
“Uh, yeah.”
Mel takes the reins under the pony’s chin and holds him steady with one hand, and rubs his soft nose with the other.
His skin twitches and his lips wiggle for more attention, or more likely, in search of a treat, and Mel wishes she’d thought to bring a bag of apple slices along.
Penny hits the soft ground with a small thud, and quickly hurries to Mel’s side.
“Thank you Mel,” she whispers, as she throws her arms around Mel’s waist and crowds close into her, and sandwiched between the softest pony in the world, and her favorite seven year old, Mel feels her heart clench.
“So,” Frank says from somewhere on the other side of the pony. “What days of the week do you teach the adult classes? Mel’s free on Wednesdays and Fridays.”
—