Deborah Fletcher Mello

Stallion Magic


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like what I do and I’m good at it. I’m not sure I want to give that up.”

      Naomi nodded her understanding. “Did you talk to Nathaniel?”

      “Yeah.”

      “He told you about Nicholas?”

      “They were both here. They flew out this morning.”

      “Did you tell him that he needs to stop playing?”

      “No, I didn’t. I told him he needed to do whatever is in his heart.”

      “I’m sure that pissed Nathaniel off.”

      “Maybe, but it’s not his decision to make.”

      A moment of silence swept between him and Naomi.

      Naomi let out a soft sigh then changed the subject. “Are you ready for me to style you so that you can actually make it to the reunion? Because at the rate you’re going you might make it to one five years from now.”

      Noah grinned. “I’m not doing well, am I?”

      “You’re making a hot mess of things is what you’re doing.”

      Naomi rose from her seat on the bed and moved into his walk-in closet. Minutes later she exited with a pair of Diesel steel-gray denim jeans, a black-and-gray-striped knit sweater and his black leather blazer.

      “This says you’re accomplished but not boasting. It’s casual, comfortably stylish and gives you just enough of a bad boy flair to get some attention. Pair it with your black Timberlands.”

      Noah nodded. “How do you do that?”

      “You usually do it yourself when you’re not overthinking,” she said as she began to rehang the neckties he’d tossed onto the bed. “So are you going to tell me why you’re so squirrely about going to your reunion?”

      He shrugged, trying unsuccessfully to maintain a neutral expression on his face.

      Naomi laughed. “Enough said. For your sake I just hope she’s worth it!”

      Noah shook his head. “Get out of my room, please, I need to get dressed.”

      Naomi was still laughing as she moved toward the door. “I know her friend Crystal. Do you want me to put in a good word for you?”

      “Excuse me?”

      “With Catherine. Do you want me to put in a good word for you? The twins said you were asking about her.”

      Taking two good strides toward the entrance, Noah pushed his sister out and closed the door in her face. He could hear her laughing all the way back to the family room.

      He shook his head. Of all his siblings, he was closest to Naomi. The twins were two years younger than he was but always had a unique bond that naturally came with sharing the womb with someone. He’d been six, almost seven when their baby sister, Natalie, had been born, and even then Noah was already filling that paternal role that none of them had ever had. It had been different with Naomi, her maternal instincts putting them on equal footing. He’d been protective but hadn’t needed to shelter her. Naomi was fierce, having an indomitable spirit like no other. And from the moment she’d drawn breath Naomi had been able to read him like no one else. She sometimes knew what he was thinking before he could even form the thought in his own mind. That sixth sense of hers could sometimes drive him crazy.

      Minutes later he stood in front of his full-length mirror, staring at his reflection. Once again Naomi had gotten it right. Moving out of the room he found his sister in his family room with her feet up on the coffee table and a large bowl of popcorn in her lap. An episode of some reality show was playing on his big screen. He stood watching for a brief moment as two young women spat insults at each other.

      “Why do you watch this trash?” he questioned as he shifted his gaze back to his sister.

      “Mindless television helps me unwind.”

      “Well, you got the mindless part right,” he said, shaking his head as the two women on the screen began throwing punches.

      “That’s some rapper’s girlfriend and his other girlfriend. Neither one knows he has a wife,” Naomi said as she tossed a handful of kernels into her mouth.

      Noah rolled his eyes. “Are you staying here tonight or are you going back to Norris Jean’s house?” he said, referring to their late mother’s home. The twelve-hundred-square-foot manufactured home had been empty since her passing. Although it had almost been a full year, he and his family were taking their time to decide what they wanted to do with the property.

      Naomi shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet. I finished cleaning out the spare bedroom earlier. I need to start working on her bedroom but I might wait until Natalie comes back so we can do it together. Do you mind if I stay here?”

      Noah shook his head. “You know better than that. You know you’re welcome here anytime.”

      “I had to ask. I didn’t know if you were planning on bringing someone home from the reunion or not. You might have wanted to get your freak on in private.”

      Noah laughed as he grabbed his keys and wallet and headed for the door. “Good night, Naomi.”

      “Have fun, Noah. And you look good, by the way.”

      * * *

      An oversized banner welcomed the Bountiful High School class back for their high school reunion. Pulling his SUV into a parking spot near the gymnasium door Noah sat watching as his former classmates streamed inside.

      He recognized Brighton Laramie and August Thames, both former members of the football team who were both currently on probation. One had done time for a drug infraction, the other for domestic violence against his wife. Noah wasn’t much interested in catching up with either.

      Leslie Prentiss, the girl who’d graduated valedictorian, strolled hand in hand with a man he didn’t recognize, but he fathomed the stranger was probably her husband. Everyone entering the building looked happy to be there and excited at the prospect of reconnecting with old friends.

      As he was about to step out of his car, an oversized limo pulled up to the curb. Everyone around paused to watch the limo driver move around the front of the car to open the passenger side door. Noah smiled as he recognized the members of Bountiful’s former cheerleading team: Brittney, Margie, Patricia, Valerie and the Three Cs—Crystal, Camille, and Catherine.

      The years had been good to them, figures still tight, faces still pretty. Patricia’s added weight gave her curves like she’d never had before, and Camille’s very pregnant belly garnered much attention. The sight of them brought back a flood of memories, and Noah smiled.

      The cheerleaders had teased and tormented him in high school. He’d been painfully shy around girls, and they’d found amusement in making him squirm. Even then he’d known that no one meant him any malice or harm but their frequent antics had made for many awkward moments. He watched as they all moved inside the building before stepping out of his car and following them inside.

      The high school’s gymnasium had been decorated for the occasion, reminding him of the one or two school dances he’d actually attended. Black and red crepe paper streamers and miniature white lights floated along the ceiling. There were large round tables covered in white tablecloths and large, red pillar candles and carnation arrangements sat as centerpieces. A nice crowd had already gathered, many laughing, smiling faces around the room.

      Bridget Wilson sat at the reception table in the entrance collecting contact information and handing out name tags with people’s high school images. The senior portraits were a reminder of a very different time in all of their lives.

      Bridget waved excitedly in his direction. The two frequently crossed paths in their lines of work. Bridget was with the district attorney’s office and often referred him to young men and boys who seemed wanting and willing to work their way out of the judicial system. Noah had mentored many of