Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
We get situated along the parade route on blankets provided by a friendly staffer. Wine, beer, and champagne are distributed, along with little baskets filled with crackers, cheese, and fruit. As we drink and nibble, I chat away with the Walters on the next blanket while Max chats with his boss on the blanket to our other side. In fact, besides Max and me clinking our glasses after Mrs. Walters says a sweet toast to “a great week and new friends,” Max and I don’t even look at each other, let alone speak. There’s an elephant sitting on this blanket with Max and me. A pink, huge one that’s plopped itself down between us and is now making me question everything.
After a while, Dad and Gigi join Max and me on our blanket, at which point we flag down a roaming server and get them drinks and a basket of goodies, too. They tell the group how excited Ripley was as her riding instructor for the week loaded her onto her designated pony—a sweet, gentle animal named Tootsie who’s been carrying Ripley around all week.
After a few minutes, a man with a cowboy hat and microphone gleefully announces the pony parade will now begin.
We stand in anticipation of the kids being led past us in their sparkling helmets and scarves—accessories they decorated themselves in arts and crafts sessions all week. And a moment later, there she is. Our Ripley, looking as happy as I’ve ever seen her on Tootsie’s back. Clearly, my sweet daughter has died and gone to heaven, and I couldn’t be happier for her. At the sight of her beaming smile, tears of pride and joy flood me until I can barely see my grinning cowgirl through them.
On and on, my tears continue to flow, as Ripley slowly makes her way along the parade route with her designated staffer who’s leading her pony carefully. I wish so badly this week didn’t have to end. I wish it could go on forever. If only this fake engagement and love that feels so damned real for me could feel real for Max, too.
A high-pitched shriek of terror yanks me from my thoughts—and, suddenly, my brain realizes what I’m seeing. Ripley is going down. For reasons I can’t fathom, she tried to twist on top of her pony, and wound up falling to the ground, as if in slow motion.
When Ripley’s body reaches the grass, she bounces and crumples . . . and then doesn’t move. It’s an unnatural thing to behold her lying crumpled and still like that—and it instantly stops my heart. Did she break her neck? Is she still breathing? Oh, God, please let my baby be okay!
I scramble to leap off the blanket as fast as I can, but even before I’m fully vertical, Max is gone. Sprinting toward Ripley at full speed. I trail behind him, feeling nearly hysterical about what we’re going to find when we get there, and then watch with wide, frantic eyes as Max dives in front of a staffer onto his knees in front of Ripley’s motionless body.
“Don’t move her, Max!” I shout. “Don’t move her!”
By the time I reach Max, Ripley is moving, thank God, and Max is frantically patting down her tiny body down and inspecting every limb. As Ripley sits up, a woman arrives, shouting that she’s a doctor. As a small crowd forms around us, Ripley says, “Mommy?”
“I’m here, baby. I’m right here.” I dive down next to Max and burst into tears as the doctor examines my baby and quickly determines she’s perfectly healthy and intact.
“Looks like she got the wind knocked out of her,” the doctor declares. “That’s all.”
“I’m okay,” Ripley says, standing up and dusting off her jeans. “Can I get back on Tootsie now?” The parade stopped when Ripley fell, and now everyone is looking at us for a sign of what to do next.
Still kneeling, I hug Ripley to me and cry with relief. “What on earth were you trying to do? You scared me to death.”
“I saw you and Max crying, so I wanted to hug you, so you wouldn’t be sad anymore,” Ripley replies into my hair. “But den, it was a long way down and I went boom.”
I laugh through my tears. “I was crying tears of joy because I’m so proud of you, peanut, not because I’m sad.”
“Was Maxy crying tears of joy, too?” She looks expectantly at Max next to me.
Max looks at me, at a loss for words. When he returns to Ripley, he says, “I wasn’t crying, honey. I think maybe I got some dust in my eye.” His eyes meet mine again, but he quickly looks down.
“I’m so relieved she’s okay,” Mrs. Walters says on an exhale. She’s crouching down next to me, looking pale. “I’m so sorry, Marnie.”