No Time for Horses by Shannon Kennedy Page A

training barn, I’m hiring a cleaning service for
the house, and I won’t even load the dishwasher.”
    “Are you serious?” Another huge frown from
the counselor. “Or is this all teen angst? Denial? The child calls
you ‘Mama Vicky’ or ‘Momma’ most of the time.”
    “I started that as a joke a couple years ago
with the older ones,” Rick intervened. “I’d get home from work and
Vicky would have everything under control. She’d have picked up the
kids from daycare on her way home from school, cooked dinner, and
be supervising homework. So, I’d walk in the door and say something
like, ‘Hey, Mama Vicky. How are things going? Need any help?’”
    “And the baby isn’t yours, Vicky?” Dr. O’Hara
asked again.
    “What are you, freaking senile? I’ve said it
and said it and said it.” I turned my anger on my mother, grateful
I wasn’t crying yet. “Why don’t you admit that she’s yours instead
of making me out to be some kind of slut?”
    Mom heaved a huge sigh and shook her head.
“Could you just stop overreacting, Victoria? Save the drama for
somebody else. It’s a reasonable mistake. I understand why Dr.
O’Hara made it.”
    “So do I.” Ingrid began making notes. “You
lied to me. Perhaps not by commission but by omission. You led me
to believe that your eldest daughter gave birth to your youngest.
Your parenting plan has serious flaws. You don’t have any idea of
who will be taking care of your children. Forcing the oldest one to
drop out of school to take care of the younger ones may have worked
a hundred years ago. Not today, not now, and not in my office.”
    Tears started to slide down my cheeks. I
slumped back into my chair. I buried my face in my hands. I
couldn’t believe I’d actually yelled at my mother here, but I also
didn’t have a clue she’d really trashed me to this headshrinker.
Robin had been right about me going to the alternative school, and
I’d figured she was just messing with me.
    “Okay, I admit we need to make some
adjustments.” Rick sounded like the voice of male reason, trying to
deal with hysterical females. “But, we need to move ahead on the
divorce. This holding pattern has lasted six months. It’s time to
progress.”
    “I couldn’t agree more. From what you’ve
said, the pattern of dumping your responsibilities on a
sixteen-year-old didn’t start six months ago. It began years ago.”
The counselor pushed a box of tissues at me. “It ends now. Next
week, I want a written schedule from each of you, and I don’t mean
Vicky. I mean you, Rick. And Gretchen too. You are the
parents, and you will divide the responsibilities
fifty-fifty.”
    The two of them immediately started blaming
each other for the confusion but stopped when Ingrid held up her
hand like a cop or kindergarten teacher. She turned to me. “I’m so
sorry, Vicky, for the part I inadvertently played in this. I
suggested a different school because I thought the baby was
actually yours. I hope you can forgive me.”
    I nodded and blew my nose. “I honestly love
my little sisters and brothers. I know that I’m not supposed to
anymore because we’re not really related.”
    “And I think I know who told you that.”
Ingrid leaned across the table toward me, shooting a glare at my
mother. “Honey, if they didn’t have you, the five of them would be
in a world of hurt. Please continue loving them and don’t blame
them for your parents’ immaturity.”
    I nodded. “I don’t mind taking care of them sometimes , but I want a life too.”
    “As long as it’s only babysitting sometimes.”
Ingrid stood and came around to pat my shoulder. “You have two
healthy parents, sweetheart. That’s more than many of my clients,
and yours will each step up to do their share.”
    “It’s never happened before,” I said, wiping
my eyes. “They’ll join forces and get rid of you. Thanks for
believing me.”
    “I’m not going anywhere, and if they try any
hijinks, my case file