Red
Epilogue
I spent my Thanksgiving break at Ty’s house. A couple of weeks later, he and I started dating. My parents stopped talking to me, and were outright hostile whenever Ty came over; apparently they blamed him for my outburst and my “delinquency.” It wasn’t hard for me to tolerate all this anymore—I had gotten over all their shit. At the end of the school year I moved in with Ty, and juggled community college, a job at the local Hollywood Video, and one-on-one riding lessons on Sharp Dressed Man.
Ty and I are now married with three children. Scooter’s getting pretty old at thirteen, but he seems to be coping pretty well with having to share attention with the kids. Sharp Dressed Man is still a bit too much horse to put the kids on, but they get along pretty well with Renegade, a laid-back bay quarter horse whom Ty named after his favorite Styx song.
My children have never met their maternal grandparents, I’m afraid—my parents have long ago erased my existence from their minds, and will not acknowledge any longer that I am their daughter and that I have their grandchildren. Well, I’m grateful for that.
None of the kids have asked me why I wear a big, red, velvet cloak every Thanksgiving. I bought it a couple of years after my original excursion with the one from my childhood. Ty still gets quiet every time I put it on, and though he will laugh in front of the children, he never stops giving me these deep looks throughout the day, especially while I read to them Little Red Riding Hood.
Ty and I are now married with three children. Scooter’s getting pretty old at thirteen, but he seems to be coping pretty well with having to share attention with the kids. Sharp Dressed Man is still a bit too much horse to put the kids on, but they get along pretty well with Renegade, a laid-back bay quarter horse whom Ty named after his favorite Styx song.
My children have never met their maternal grandparents, I’m afraid—my parents have long ago erased my existence from their minds, and will not acknowledge any longer that I am their daughter and that I have their grandchildren. Well, I’m grateful for that.
None of the kids have asked me why I wear a big, red, velvet cloak every Thanksgiving. I bought it a couple of years after my original excursion with the one from my childhood. Ty still gets quiet every time I put it on, and though he will laugh in front of the children, he never stops giving me these deep looks throughout the day, especially while I read to them Little Red Riding Hood.