I shook my head as memories of me in my little jodhpurs and helmet came back to mind.
My mother came from money. I had known that all of my life. It was why we were well off as a family, but my mother still worked. She had built her own business down in New Orleans, where she had met my father, and then had moved up to Colorado Springs with him when my dad had wanted to be with his family again. Dad and his sister and a few friends had started up Montgomery Ink Too, a franchise of the original Montgomery Ink that my uncles and aunt had started in downtown Denver.
Now there were multiple tattoo studios around the state with our name on it, and my mother had been the one to make sure that everything business-wise was set. But before she had found her calling, and now being a half-marathoner, and making sure the businesses didn’t crumble, she had been the ice princess.
At least according to my father.
I didn’t know the whole story other than I had never met my grandmother. I knew she was still alive because every once in a while my mother would get a letter in the mail and look sad for a few days. And then my father would make my mother smile and things would get back to normal. In the end we didn’t really need my mother’s family. We had my father’s family, all one hundred of them. I had far too many cousins to count, and they were each and every one part of Livvy’s life.
So while we didn’t need my mother’s family, she still had a trust fund. And that trust fund had led to extracurriculars I had been afforded while some of my friends and family hadn’t. Hence being a horse girl when I was a little kid. I had never owned my own horse, but it had been a dream.
“I have not been on a horse in so long, and I don’t really think it’s like riding a bike.”
“You never know. Count it as research.” My mom’s eyes sparkled as she reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Research would be nice. Though I don’t think I am editing a Western anytime soon.”
“Maybe one of the heroes of those books will be a cowboy.”
“Maybe. Right now I’m in the middle of editing a sci-fi though.”
“No space horses?” Mom asked.
“Not yet.”
“Get a hobby,” my mom put in quickly.
“What?”
“Do something for yourself. Whether it’s swimming or riding or baking. Do something that is not editing and reading or Amelia-related. You need that.”
“I’m really busy, Mom. I have a life. I love my life.”
“I know you do, but you need things for you that are Livvy, not being a mom.”
The fact my mother had echoed my earlier thoughts might have worried me, but I knew she had probably gone through the same things. Didn’t all mothers at one point have an identity crisis?
It didn’t help that I still had nightmares one day Brick would come back and fight for custody.
I hadn’t spoken to him since Amelia had been born, but he used to send letters, just to threaten me. We kept every one of them, but he always said that he would come back, and wanted to make sure his legacy was taken care of.
It was a disgusting mess, and I hadn’t heard from him in nearly a year now.
And while I knew the courts had to be on my side, I wasn’t certain. So I had my cousin’s security company searching for Brick. If Noah couldn’t find him, then nobody could.
I just wanted Brick to finally sign over parental rights, and I would be in the clear. I didn’t need child support. I just wanted freedom.
As my father crested over the hill at the other end of the park, I pushed all thoughts of Brick and my worries from my mind.
Dad was tall, bearded, and tattooed, and might’ve looked a little scary to some people. But he was just my dad. Most of my family members were tattooed and pierced. Considering they were in the business, it just made sense. I had a few tattoos as well, and they were far more commonplace these days.
Our family sometimes felt as if we were completely nuclear and normal. And other times, we looked like the heathens people thought we were.
“Grandpa!” Amelia called as she ran toward my dad without looking at her surroundings.
“Amelia Montgomery. What did I say about running off?” I snapped, fear in my throat.
Fear, because we were in a public park surrounded by busy roads. Yes, the Rocky Mountains were over to the west in a glorious backdrop, but there were still strangers and cars everywhere.
