The Bequest
Chapter 28—Abigail

After alternating between good cop and bad cop, I then freaked out on about five different people from Union Wireless. The last lady I spoke to told me she understood my urgency, and even though the crews weren't set to be here until July, she would get them out early for me.

So when I see Union Wireless as a sender in my inbox, my adrenaline spikes.

I click on the email. Abigail:

As promised, we're going to come out to your location early! Congrats. The install typically takes 1-3 business days, depending on your location and the difficulty for the crews in running the line to your desired location. Your install is scheduled for June 26, between the hours of 8 am and 4 pm.

Thanks for your patience, Rebecca Johnson.

June 26th? A measly four days early!? I groan. I've spent every morning this week over at Steve's and as far as I can tell, he's been asleep every single time. He has been reliable for our lessons, but I can't say I'm impressed by how little he seems to work. Sleeping all day, one horseback lesson, then up all night... doing what?

Not that what Steve Archer does is any of my business.

Luckily, he said we should take the weekend off from lessons. It's a good thing, because instead of getting used to riding, my legs only seem to get progressively more sore. And my roping skills are laughably bad. Jeff says that's fine-I hope he's right.

Apparently the cattle drive doesn't really require much roping. That's mostly for dealing with injured ones. It's a relief to me that Kevin and Jeff will be there with us the entire time. If we weren't here, they could handle things themselves, but they'd break the cows into two groups. With an extra few people, they can manage the whole bunch of cows at once.

Or so Kevin insists.

I hope he's right. Ethan's a better rider than I expected-mostly because he's pretty athletic and can manage most things. My riding has improved, but I've always been somewhat competent. I'm still worried that Ethan and I are going to be worse than useless when we're actually out for a ride, trying to force cows to move where we want.

Izzy's English skills have transferred to Western remarkably well, so that's something.

The most improved, by far, is clearly Whitney, but the verdict is still out on whether she'll be good enough to be safely surrounded by cows in unfamiliar terrain.

A text from Robert comes in right after breakfast.

-I PROMISED THE REVISED CONTRACTS TO NEWTON MONDAY. ARE THEY DONE? I DON'T SEE THEM, BUT MAYBE YOU SAVED THEM SOMEWHERE ELSE?

I forgot about the stupid Newton contracts. If I'd been at work, I'd have remembered. I put files in order of when they were promised to the clients and work my way methodically through them. If I was running late, I'd take a file home and work on it after Gabriel went to bed.

Here, my miniscule closet is full of Parcheesi, Backgammon, Clue, and Monopoly. The dresser in this room is clear full of tablecloths, linen napkins, and sheets with prints so loud they'd make the 1970s blush. My few actual documents are stacked up on top of the nightstand, which is already cluttered with a lamp and an old clock that never shows the right time.

Between trying to feed kids and bathe kids and wash clothes and make nice with another family and do my work on a rocking porch bench... I feel close to a complete breakdown. I do not have the time for a breakdown, and too many people rely on me. Besides, Abby doesn't break down. Abby doesn't cry. Abby doesn't fall apart. She makes a plan, and she gets things done. And when problems arise or I miss something, I do whatever it takes to get back on track. So that's what I'm going to do right now.

Steve Archer told me I could come over to use his internet any time. He isn't doing lessons today, which tells me he may be busy, but I'm not sure what else to do. At least I'll be quick. In and out fast. Maybe he won't even notice I'm there. Ethan's already gone when I leave, moving water. I really should go with him at some point and find out what exactly it means to shovel sod in order to block one ditch and then open another, but that day will not be today. Whitney and Izzy and Emery are playing their favorite game Uno. Because it's best with four players, they let Gabe play too.

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Maren's still sleeping, but all she does when she's awake is read, anyway. I wonder what she's going to do when the supply of books she brought runs out. Probably start burning ants with a magnifying glass. Or pulling legs off beetles to show her mom that being here really is making her slowly go insane.

"I'm going to run over to "

"Do some work," Whitney says.

"We know," Izzy says.

I didn't think I could feel any worse. I was wrong.

"Mom," Gabe says.

I'm breathing in and out as deeply as I can, trying not to cry. It feels like, sometimes, in the middle of making plans and executing them, and then changing things to account for errors and miscalculations, that I'm drowning. I'm missing things that matter in my desperate attempt to do things we need. "Yeah, baby? What?"

"Thank you for working." His grin fills his entire face. "I miss when you hardly worked, but I know that now you gotta do all Dad's work and all yours."

"I'm sorry about it too," Whitney says.

"Yeah, thanks," Izzy says. "I know it sucks."

I'm extremely blessed to have the children I have. "I never regret working for you guys, but sometimes I wish I was around more. I think your dad probably felt the same way." Way to make them all sad, Abby. I am such a downer. "Don't worry about me today. I just have a few contracts to review and then I'll be back to join the fun."

If you're loving the book, nel5s.com is where the adventure continues. Join us for the complete experience all for free. The next chapter is eagerly waiting for you! "Promise?" Gabe says.

"I do."

"Okay, because you have to watch Charlotte's Web."

I don't tell him that I've already seen it. "When I get back, we'll do it."

"Deal," he says. Seven is a fun age.

I feel like I could drive to Steve Archer's place with a blindfold on at this point. The road curves right, then left, then right again. I hang a left, and then make a quick right and I'm there. Less than five minutes. I'm lucky that I found someone with WiFi and a house small enough that I can boost it from his porch. And I'm lucky that we're in Utah, not Texas, where I'd be baking outside every day. So far, the high has been 75 degrees. With a breeze and the shade from the porch, it's been a much more beautiful place to work than I'm used to, with far fewer distractions.

Only this time, when I park, there's someone sitting on my swing.

Or rather, his swing. Steve Archer's holding a mug of coffee and looking at me in confusion.

I probably look almost as shocked. I've never seen him awake before noon. Most days, he hasn't woken by the time I leave at two or three in the afternoon. Since when do functioning alcoholics change their behavior patterns for weekends?