"I think so." I felt like I had it by the tail. Barely.
The lesson was over. I knew he would leave me alone now to practice. I gathered my reins and my focus. This was going to be more difficult than it sounded. I would have to catch my habit of waiting and watching, correct it each time it happened, and replace it with the elusive oneness that comes from complete trust in one's partner. It would require me to show more confidence. It was an evolution of our relationship and I knew I would try and fail at it many times before I succeeded. I began. I wanted this, and I would work until I achieved it.
When our ride was over and I'd given Blackie the thorough grooming he needed, I put him out in the pasture with Duke. They still had some quality grazing time left before Uncle Henry called them in for dinner. After unloading the remaining supplies from my car, I tidied the barn and dropped a bale of hay from the loft through the hatch in the feed room ceiling so Uncle Henry wouldn't have to do it later. On my drive home I contemplated my ride. I believed I had moments where I started to achieve the greater harmony Uncle Henry talked about, but it was a constant struggle to remind myself to be aware of the present while planning ahead, and not fall back into old habits.
I parked my car at the curb and strolled up the walk to my house. The place looked outrageously cheerful. Banks of tulips from pale peach to salmon were punctuated with white and peach narcissus. It seemed as if the plants all conspired to be rid of the winter blahs in the few short hours I'd been gone. As I climbed the steps to my porch the perfume of the purple hyacinths arrested my progress through the door, and I inhaled a lungful of the strong, sweet scent.
Inside, sun streamed through the windows of my living room, lending a warmth electric lights could never match. I walked from room to room gazing out the windows on the gardens. Thanks to the combined efforts of my sister, Aunt Vi and me last fall, I had more spring flowers in bloom than anyone else on my street.
Juliet was responsible for the thick wash of pinks and purples in the back. Last October she stood in front of the flower beds and threw handfuls of bulbs at the dirt. At the time I was horrified. Aunt Vi hustled me to the front yard and helped me plant my straight organized tows while Juliet buried her random casts. Now I was glad I left Juliet alone. The back yard was stunning. However, I prefer my organized method in the front yard.
It was dinner time, and I was ravenous. Taking a container of leftover lasagna from the freezer, I put a sizable square in the microwave to reheat, tossed a salad, then set my kitchen table. The moment I sat down to eat, the dead bolt on my front door clicked and the door creaked on its hinges. I jumped to my feet, pulse pounding.
"Yoo hoo, it's me!" Juliet called.
"You scared the living daylights out of me," I bellowed. "Is it beyond your intelligence to knock first? You know perfectly well what kind of bad news has been walking through that door lately. I was on the verge of hyperventilating myself into a coma. Have you no brains?"
"Oh, sorry, but I did holler when I came in." She breezed into the kitchen and looked out the window. "Hey, the flowers look great. I'll have to cut some for my apartment. I love fresh flowers. Hurry up and finish eating. Eric's got a soccer game tonight down at Pilchuck Park and we're going to go and cheer them on."
"No."
"Come on, what else have you got to do?"
"Well, I have yet to hear about your talk with Detective Thurman."
For half a second Juliet was speechless. "Oh yeah. I forgot about that."
"I'll bet." I crossed my arms and glared at her. She chewed her lip. "So?"
"It went fine."
"Is that right?"
"Yeah, it is. Now let's go. I'm going to be late. I don't want Eric to worry." She started toward the living room. I stepped in front of her.
"It's okay for me to worry, but not Eric?"
"Come down to the game. We can talk there."
"No."
"Oh, come on, it'll be fun," she said. "You need some fun in your life."
"I'd like to eat my dinner without getting indigestion. That would be fun."
"Then don't rush and come over after you eat. It's down the street."
"I know where the park is."
"Good. I'll see you in half an hour." She pushed past me and left.
Apparently, if I was going to get any information out of my sister, I'd have to do it at the soccer game. Nevertheless, I took my sweet time eating dinner, did the dishes, and cleaned the kitchen before I left. The park was a quarter mile from my house and I chose to walk. Despite my stalling, the game was still in full swing when I got there.
I had no trouble finding Juliet. She was the loudest of the assembled fans, shouting instructions to the players and whistling shrilly. The others watching the game appeared to be friends and family of the players, and seemed to be using the game as an excuse to visit. This was more a party than a sports event. Juliet couldn't have been more at home. An opportunity for a private conversation didn't look too promising. I could've stayed home, had a glass of wine to calm my nerves, and admired my garden. Well, she wasn't going to slip by me that easily. I'd get her later. I turned around and stared home.
"Thea! Theeeeaaa!"
I stopped, winced, and glanced over my shoulder. Juliet waved both arms like she was flagging down a search plane.
"Over here, I'm over here!"
I gave up.
I knew nothing about soccer. My acquaintance with spectator sports was limited to high school football and a little of the same of the college variety. I could tell there were two teams on the field because they wore different colored jerseys. Great.
"Is that all they do?" I asked Juliet. "Run relentlessly up and down the field trying to kick that ball into a net?"
"Pretty much. Except – see that guy with the big mitt on his hand at the end of the field? No, that's the ref. Jeez, Thea, he doesn't have anything on his hands. The other guy in front of the net who's just standing around? Yeah, him. He tries to keep the ball out of the net."
"Oh. He doesn't get much exercise." About that time he launched himself through the air and the soccer ball slammed into his chest. I flinched. "I take that back. It all looks awfully intense."
It also looked exhausting. Adult males deliver a frightening amount of focused energy into their game – more so than their younger counterparts. All the running, shouting, and grunting when bodies collide bears an unsettling resemblance to a battlefield. Occasionally, a referee blew his whistle and activity ebbed, then geared up again.
"Oh! Goal! Somebody made a goal!" I cheered and Juliet punched my shoulder.
"Wrong team. Jeez, Thea, pay attention."
"Oh, sorry."
"See number thirty-eight in the green jersey? That's Eric. Look at him run. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" She sighed and watched, her mouth partly opened. I stuck my elbow in her side nudging her back into speech. "Yeah… see his shirt? 'Fuentes' is on the back, too, but it's kind of covered with dirt."
I tried to pay closer attention. A few players looked familiar, but they milled around too much for me to be sure. Besides, they all looked the same in their jerseys and shorts. I tried to follow Eric's progress throughout the remainder of the game. He seemed to be the team captain – at least he was the one on his team yelling a stream of incomprehensible orders as he ran. He looked angry. That alarmed me. Eric was generally so laid back.