Daybreak in New Orleans - Part 5

Original article written by The Steward posted 14 years 2 weeks ago

Angela Dee Cochran stood in awe on the circle drive outside the impressive Galvez Restaurant in New Orleans. The fountain in front sparkled luminously, lit up by mood lighting which showed a red carpet leading inside the main entrance. Inside, a man in a tuxedo took her coat and directed her to a spectacular ball room.

A sweeping dance floor led to a raised platform at one end, where a live band was currently playing. Floor to ceiling windows lined the right side of the wall, overlooking the water. Ancient-looking pillars dotted the room, holding up a curved ceiling.

“Ma’am?” a waiter asked, and Angela turned in surprise. “You forgot your beads at the door!” He placed a string of green beads over Angela’s head, and then left. She realized that everyone at the party was wearing them already.

“Hey, Angela!” Brian Leavitt called, waving as he shuffled past. He held a drink in his right hand – Angela turned and saw that the bar was behind her against the back wall. To the left was the buffet; she suddenly felt extremely hungry.

Michelle Calderoni was the lone person out on the dance floor so far. She grooved to the upbeat jazz playing from the small stage, whirling about in black high heels and a tight turquoise. Several of the other girls already seated looked at her longingly.

Lucas Davenport stood near the bar, discussing horse racing politics with John Slotman, who had dressed a tad more casually and leaned against one of the pillars, striking a debonair, model-like pose.

Already impaired by a few drinks, Brandon McClellan joined Michelle on the dance floor, and they wiggled and danced, oblivious to the crowd watching. Skyla Tate sat comfortably at her table nearest the dance floor and itched to get out there, but she opted to wait for the DJ coming in after dinner.

A slim woman with pretty eyes took to the platform after the band finished the next song. She looked out over the crowd of about 200 and waited for them to quiet down. “I’m Laura Smith,” she said, “and I’m here to welcome you to this year’s Steward’s Cup party!”

A roar went up from the crowd, the room reverberating with shrieks and shouts.

“This is my good friend Leo,” Laura pointed to a sharply-dressed, jovial looking man a few feet away. “I think you all know him?”

The cheers were, if possible, even louder this time. Many people stamped their feet and pounded their tables, including Ronnie Dee from the table closest to the stage. Silverware clattered and Leonard Beagle took a small, abashed bow.

“Leo is going to emcee this party, so let’s get it started right now!” Laura stepped away from the mic to the loudest, most riotous celebration yet.

The DJ immediately picked up the beat, and Leo grabbed the mic off the stand and started to work the crowd. Almost immediately, more people spilled out onto the dance floor, including a usually reserved Jon Xett who wore a clean-cut business suit. Brittney Ellison began wolfing down her dinner, exclaiming, “I love this song!” in between bites.

In the back corner, Ladonna King sat quietly, her face cast down at her plate.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Jamie Newton asked, coming up beside her. “Don’t you want to dance?”

“No,” Ladonna said, pushing the plate away. “I can’t.”

Jamie dropped down in the chair beside his longtime love. “Well, something is obviously bothering you. What is it?” He left out the part of his thoughts, which was recalling the irrational moodiness of women. He felt that to be a safer move.

“This is just a really big year for me,” Ladonna explained. “I’ve been trying to get back to the top for generations of horses now, and this year might be my year. I don’t feel like I can sit and party when I should be getting ready for tomorrow!”

Jamie considered what to say before speaking. “At this point, it’s kind of all in their hooves,” he said cleverly. “There isn’t much you can do at this point. It’s only three days until the race, and one altered gallop or jog isn’t going to change anything. You’ve worked hard all year, so relax and enjoy!”

With that he bounced out of the chair and joined the mob on the dance floor. Josh Dutzy stood in the middle of the crowd, jumping up and down to the beat, crashing into Emily Klein who dared to join the fray. By the bar, Doug Kidwell was talking to Karen Shields. Karen seemed amused as Doug tried to convince her of something.

The center of attention, of course, was Ara Davies. The rich trainer was showing off a forest green dress with gold belt, gold pumps, and a feathered headband. The ensemble showed off her slim hips and shoulders. Ara was delighting the crowd, discussing Trafalgar, Knot, and Bold – essentially, any horse that wasn’t her Classic contender Caldron.

The night progressed and things got rowdier, as was to be expected at a New Orleans party. Even the normally reserved but secretly fun loving Carolyn Eaton was seen dancing, and although Teri Lawrence remained seated, she nodded her head in time to the music. Meagan D’amoure sang a round of karaoke, and just before the evening came to a close, Bob Probert leapt on stage, clutching a tiny stuffed jaguar, and proclaimed, “I LOVE EVERYONE HERE!” before being hustled away by Leonard.

Peter Gleason stole a digital camera from Matthew McMahon, and was busy recording the night’s events. He kept popping up in people’s faces, blinding them with the flash. Steve Martinelli looked extremely irritated at the interruption of his conversation with Jack Heissenbuttel, but Peihe Sun posed happily alongside Tim Matthews, Jr. and Tammy Stawicki. “Cheese!” they chorused, grinning sloppily, happily.

Around 1 in the morning, Jonathan Bolt and Tanitha Starlet sat on the edge of the now-quiet fountain, discussing their horses’ chances in the Steward’s Cup. “Just running in the big races makes me happy,” Jonathan explained. “I have two good chances, and I’d love to win one, but I just want a good showing.”

Tanitha sighed and looked dejected. “I feel like so much pressure is riding on this race, though,” she said dismally.

“Why?” Jonathan asked, concerned. “Your colt will love being an older horse. You have a couple more years left with him!”

“Because,” Tanitha said, looking up into her friend’s face, “right now, he’s what is keeping me around.”

**

On Wednesday morning, Kevin Hern woke up with a start, face down on his computer keyboard. He blinked hard and rubbed his face, catching his bearings. He glanced around, hoping that his shedrow-mate, Chuck Whittingham, hadn’t noticed.

With effort, Kevin struggled to recall how he’d ended up at the track. After a few moments of sluggish clarity, he remembered arriving here after the party and spending the night at his desk.

Kevin got up, stretched (and then regretted it), and walked out into the aisle, hoping the 6 am air would revitalize his morning. His small dark bay filly, Innocence, peered at him from out of the first stall, her ears flicked forward expectantly. Kevin took her muzzle in his hands, and pressed himself against the webbing for Chuck and his horse Coal to pass.

“I hope I didn’t do anything crazy last night,” Kevin told the pretty filly. She stared back sweetly. In fact, Kevin didn’t really remember drinking, he just remembered dinner, and lots of it. The restaurant had been excellent…

“Let’s get you out to the track,” he said, patting the filly on the neck. “I want to get back to the hotel and really sleep!”

---

Back to Steward's Cup articles