Disclaimer: Please see previous chapters.

A/N: I noticed only 3 people reviewed the last chapter! A special thanks to those who did. I'm really glad you liked it. If you didn't see or get my message about chapter 12, please let me know what you think when you do read it. If you read it and didn't leave a review because it was awful, please tell me what to change in this chapter's review. This is just sort of a developmental chapter, but a lot happens. Hope you enjoy the length! We start off just where last chapter's cliff-hanger left off.

Babygirl

"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person."

Chapter 13: Good Enough

The moment seemed suspended in a mix of awkward tension and surreal realization. Here was the man that owned the city. Here was the man whose words could decide people's fate. Here, right before me, stood the kindly looking man whose very presence seemed to vindicate those oaths of respect the governors, senators, lawyers, and judges held for him. So, this was Mr. Massey.

"N-Nice to meet you Mr. Massey, sir." I heard myself answer half a second too late. He nodded politely in return, ignoring the stumble.

I tried not to stare during dinner. I thought little of interrupting, as I usually did. I knew, almost without effort, that the short fork was for salad; which I ate, although I don't like it. I planted my napkin neatly in my lap and held my fork and glass gingerly, with pinky raised. I chewed quietly, as if trying hard not wake someone with ultra sensitive hearing, like Darry. Meanwhile, when I dared, I watched Massey closely for- well, I'm not exactly sure what I was hoping to see to prove this was the great man I had heard about; whatever I was searching for, I didn't come across it.

After salad, we had to wait about twenty minutes for Marie to bring out the second course. Milly looked like her seat was pricking her in the butt. I sort of understood her dilemma. If she stood up, it looked badly organized, but if she sat there much longer, then everyone would starve. When Marie finally did come out, I thought Milly would have a heart attack. Marie had swagged in carrying too many plates in way that could be considered nothing other than ungraceful, and, to top it off, from her mouth rudely protruded- horror of horrors- a cigarette! Milly's eyes were wide and furious as a rodeo bull. I half expected her to snort flames at any moment. John's, on the other hand, were closed as if he either had a headache, was praying carefully, or expected someone to swat him any minute.

For a second I thought she was going to lose it right then and there, but she quickly regained her composure and sent a look Marie's way when no one was looking. I would not want it directed at me. I was surprised to see that by dessert, I hadn't spoken hardly a word. Actually, the only time I said anything was when someone asked me how school was. That's what people ask kids when they don't know what else to say to them. I said "Fine, thank you." and grinned like a Cheshire cat, or a Two-Bit (depending on how you want to look at it). John nearly snorted into his wine. I almost panicked, thinking I looked stupid, but from the look on Milly's lady friend's face I must have done something cute. I even perfectly hid my disgust.

Waiting for the meal to end, I reflected on my performance. I hadn't dropped food in my lap and hadn't made a mistake yet. Silently cheering for myself, I celebrated with my cheesecake.

Everything was smooth sailing until the conversation turned to me.

"I am simply in awe at you're the metamorphosis this young lady has undergone in your care." Milly's friend mused.

I thought, huh?

"She looks so naturally dignified."

"She's making excellent grades and they bring her to Mass every Sunday." the priest put in.

"Thank you. I'm afraid I can't take all the credit, however."

Credit for what?

"I'm sure much of it has to do with it being your Mass, father Brendon. She's been taking etiquette classes the school offered too. I would suggest them to every mother of a little girl."

Wait! I made good grades before I came here. Etiquette classes were my idea!

"She takes piano and ballet as well, does she not?" asked some lady.

"She only takes piano now."

"We heard her play. She's gifted. Imagine that talent going to waste." a gentleman shook his head.

"Thank you. Yes, she doesn't have time to accomplish both now, so we try to limit the schedule. You know how it can get." they laughed and nodded as if they knew exactly what she meant and hadn't meant.

"Of course some things are just in the genes." Milly raised a harsh eyebrow.

"Ah. The battle of psychology: inherent or environmental?" John faithfully changed the subject.

I didn't speak. Maybe I was just too shocked. Maybe I did not understand or was not able to articulate just how seriously they had degraded my achievements and directly insulted my family and upbringing. I may have been to young to understand what exactly had happened, but I felt the anger and pain from it as much as was possible. What's worse, I was confused.

They spoke about me as if I weren't there. They didn't compliment me, they gave credit to Milly. They held tones that made it appear that they were talking about some Tarzan they had tried to civilize from the dark jungles of Africa. My hands were shaking. I felt sick. I reached for my glass and then it happened- it tipped slowly and helplessly and spilled all over the beautiful white-lace table cloth. I burst into tears. Milly and John leapt from their chairs.

"What were you doing?" Milly snarled in my ear, taking my napkin to clean it up and calling Maire.

"Excuse the little mess," She said pleasantly to our guests. I was glad that I couldn't see them staring at me through my tear filled eyes. Marie came in.

John leaned over: "It's only a spilled drink, Baby."

"Hush." Milly snapped. I did. It got quiet. I think they heard her, so I shut my trap and sat through the rest of the dinner with my lip trembling lip. Afterwards, trying not to slouch, I said good evening to all the guests, who seemed politely unfazed enough by my outburst. Mr. Massey stayed later for coffee. Apparently they were going to talk in the living room. John said to say goodnight, and I did.

Marie took me to the stairs as if taking me to my room, but I took off without her. I threw myself harshly down on the bed and cried and cried and cried. I hit my pillow with frustration. I threw it off the bed as hard as I could. I kicked the blankets wildly. I had a nice little tantrum. It had been a while since I had one of those. It felt good, but I still felt awful. Everyone was trying to change me. Everyone. Why wasn't I good enough?

On the Tuesday I woke up to find it was my birthday, I tried especially hard not to think about my brothers. I tried and failed. I thought about how they Soda came bounding into my room on my last birthday, jumped on my bed, and sang at the top of his lungs. He made me a birthday cake with blue icing letters on it. I remembered Darry letting me sleep in and saving up money for that new bat I wanted. I remember Pony taking my turn at the dishes and letting me hang out with him. I had dreaded my birthday because it was only a few weeks after mom and dad's deaths, but my brothers had made sure it was okay. Without my brothers here to do it for me, I would have to make the best of the day for myself.

I walked downstairs and went to breakfast to find we were having extravagant breakfast and leaving for a short outing. I felt a little uneasy excitement. Where the heck were we going?

That question was soon answered. We arrived at place just outside of town with large white fences and a long entrance drive. The drive was lined by large oak trees and willows up to a huge, white, plantation style house. The gravel curved to the right, and we followed it past the house to open fields dotted with the nicest stables I had ever laid eyes on.

Horses! The animals had always excited me. Rodeos had been my dream. Nothing could compare to the thrill watching the guys bull ride and the girls race by on horse back. As we stepped out fo the car, I felt as awake and alive as I had in days. I felt the anxious excitement that comes before a baseball game rising in me. I felt the fresh air in my lungs again.

John stepped from the car and I was at his heels instantly.

"So, would you like to go riding?"

"Yeah!" I yelled.

Moments later, I was stroking a black gelding as a stableman saddled him. I tried to remember the few times I had ridden and what I had read or be told. Okay, I told myself as he backed up. Step up to the left side of the horse. Place left foot all the way up into the stirrup with hand on saddle horn and mane. Bounce and pull yourself up. Swing right foot over and sit deep. Feet in the stirrups; heels down and toes pointing up. Hold the reins correctly. Sit straight and relax legs.

"Great posture." the stableman exclaimed. "Do you take lessons?"

I shook my head with my usual shyness. "You should. We offer them here, you know. You could come out and get proper instruction once or twice a week for a few dollars."

"Would you like that?" John asked me, petting the horse's neck.

"Yes." I answered, nearly breathless with hope.

"I think that can be arranged. Who do I see?"

"That'd be my manager after today's session. We also board horses and give lesson on your own animal."

We went into a riding rink and he led it around a while. Then he let me do it.

"Alright, Baby, give him a tap and try trotting. Move with him, though. One. Two. One. Two. Feel it? It's a tow beat gait. Can you post?" I got tired fast, but didn't want to quit. He let me walk him a while longer, but it was over all too soon.

"Thank you." I said to John, removing my helmet, walking back to the barn. "That was the best birthday present ever." for a moment, I felt I had hurt my family's feelings, but it was true. This is what Darry was talking about, wasn't it? And what was that Nelly and Emily had said they would do? Milk the money and enjoy it.

John smiled and laughed a little. "You're welcome, but, Baby, that wasn't your present."

"Oh."

"I just thought you'd enjoy it. I had a little help though."

"You did?"

"Yep."

"How?"

"I called your brother and told him you'd been kind of quiet. I asked him what he thought you want to do if you could do anything. He said buy you a pony and take you riding twice a week. Then, you'd be happy. Mr. Massey suggested this place. He breeds thuroughbreds here."

"Oh. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

I couldn't believe he had called my brother to find out what I wanted. That was, well, thoughtful. Looking around I learned something else: they weren't kidding; Massey was really loaded.

"You think Milly would be okay with me taking lessons?"

"I think I can convince her it's respectable. Lessons are classy enough and horses are a rather lofty status symbol, if that's what you're worried about. Now, for your present."

"Huh?"

We walked past the first stable and went to a smaller set of them in the back. It was surrounded by horse trailers. A nicely dressed man with a thick Italian accent was standing there waiting for someone. I surprised to find it was us he was awaiting with such a smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Densey. I think I have a few that will interest you."

He then proceeded to show us a few horses. There was a thoroughbred; a young one, very expensive, but fiery. He had a heritage that could be traced back to the great Man-of-War. He talked about that one for a long time, but John insisted it was not for amateur horse owners. There was an older stallion, Palomino. He came from Mexico, and his name was Diablo. John seemed to like him and I did too. There was a white Arabian who seemed too spirited and another thoroughbred. It was one they picked up from a moving family. This one on the end wasn't the prettiest. He wasn't the calmest, or the friendliest. He was mousy brown and had a mischievous character in his face. I recognized that horse.

"Mickey Mouse!"

"What?" John asked.

"I know that horse. That's Soda's-em, friend."

"Sir, this is one is fine, yes, but not of finest quality. He was just bargain. You need one of dignity."

"Mickey Mouse has dignity." I insisted. John cracked up.

"Yes. Yes he does," he chocked out. Then, turning to me, he said: "Do you want him?"

I scoffed. "Yeah. Of course I want him."

Then I heard the very last thing I'd ever expected to hear: "Alright."

We walked towards the office to sign papers and set up lesson schedules. I watched him pull out a wad of neatly folded tens and I thought I was literally going to faint. I was going to far with this taking advantage of this.

"You've got to go shopping with Milly later for your riding clothes and such."

I gaped at him. "Close your mouth, Baby you look like a fish."

"Are you serious?" I stammered out.

"Yes. Go look at your reflections in the pond over there." The pond was beautiful, especially such plush green fields, but that was far from the point.

"No, I mean-" I stopped. What did I mean. Then it just sort of fell out of my mouth. "That's a lot of money."

He stopped. "So?"

"I'm not trying to be rude about your gift, I mean I love it, but don't you think that's a lot for a ten year old birthday?"

He thought for a moment. "Yes."

"Then why?"

"Let me ask you something? Why do think you're here anyway?"

I paused. "Because you took me in to be nice and to help fix Milly."

"What?" he asked.

"To help Milly."

"Who told you that?" His tone was different now.

"No one," I answered.

"Who was it?" He asked, sounding dangerous and grabbing my shoulders. "Was Eugene? Was it?" He shook me.

"I don't know!" I chocked. "I don't know!"

He stopped remembering himself.

"Mr. Densey? Everything alright." a man asked.

"Fine."

"Okay." the man said and walked away.

"Look, Baby. I want you to be happy. I can afford this and I want to do it. You've been an awfully good girl, why shouldn't you get it then?"

"I don't know," I honestly answered. "It feels wrong. Does it have to be so much. I don't want to be spoiled and selfish."

He sighed. "Baby, you are not spoiled or selfish, so don't worry about it. Now, I am buying this horse for you."

"Why?"

He sounded exasperated. "I am so sick of you thinking you don't deserve it. I so sick of you looking at the life you have now and because you're used to living in less fortunate circumstances, thinking you're not good enough for it. You're good enough, Baby. You're good enough."

I practically jumped on him, hugging him tightly. I held on for dear life and heard my straggled voice croak out another thank you. He wrapped his arms around me to as I breathed in his smell and felt better. His hands laying gently on my hair, I heard him whisper: "Happy birthday."

A/N: Please review! For those counting: 3 chapter left (& epilogue). After that I will start my new story. Thanks for your support thus far!