The Bequest
Chapter 62—Amanda

After practically yelling at me, I do not expect her to scoot her chair closer and hug me. Suddenly I'm bawling against her shoulder. "I really like Eddy. He's the first guy I've liked this much...maybe ever." She stiffens a bit at that, but I forge on. "But he has a past that makes him unsuitable. I know you think I don't really do anything-"

"I was misinformed," she says. "I think what you do is bold and difficult, and I couldn't manage it half as gracefully as you do."

That stops me short for a moment. "Really?"

"Absolutely," she says. "I've always envied your style and your easy grace. I've always admired how you make being a mother look effortless. I, on the other hand, was always lugging around a huge bag of stuff. I could never find what I needed, and I always look sweaty, lost, and scattered."

She's just described a person I've never seen. "You're the most competent mother-no, person that I know. You are never sweaty, scattered, or lost."

Abby laughs. "Maybe we need magical mirrors in here that show us what other people see in us, not what we do."

"If I could market something like that, I could make a killing," I say.

"I'm sorry about Eddy," she says. "Really sorry." She scrunches her nose. "Are you absolutely positive that his past-"

"My boss just told me to move back to New York immediately, and that I cannot continue to pursue a relationship with him in any way."

"I'm not sure that's legal," Abby says. "But even if your contract would allow them to terminate_"

"I need that revenue," I say. "The last three years have been anxiety-inducing, hope and pray sort of months-where more often than not, I'm crossing my fingers and wishing my posts will be interesting enough to scrape together new sponsors." I shake my head. "Lololime's contract gives me consistent income. Sure, they tell me what they want, but we discuss how to achieve it together. There are no engagement minimums, no specified clicks, nothing like that." "But they tell you who you can and can't date." Her lips are compressed, signaling her clear disapproval.

"I think it's a fair trade-off," I insist, even though it makes me uneasy too.

"You're the only one who can decide what that deal is worth to you," she says. "And I'll support anything you decide."

For the first time, I'm actually sad at the thought that I won't see Abby anymore. We'll probably end up reverting to how we were before never talking. The thought should be a relief; living here has been exhausting. But I find that I'm more upset than relieved at the thought of returning home and getting my normal life back.

"This helps," I say. "I felt this bizarre rush of emotion, which makes no sense. In my entire life, I've never been anything but let down by men. There's no reason for me to think that Eddy would be any different, and based on what I've discovered about him, there's every reason for me to believe my rotten luck will hold." I mean, he's admitted that he's an addict and a murderer.

But it was so long ago. And the way I feel around him...

"I'd be livid if work told me I couldn't date someone." She shrugs. "Human nature." She lowers her voice. "And I'm so sorry to hear that you've had terrible luck with men. I'm sorry Paul wasn't a good husband. I will say, you only need to find one really good one-so having terrible past luck doesn't really make Eddy less likely to be great." Her eyes widen, and she sucks in a breath.

"What?"

Her eyes well with tears. "I suppose sometimes you need to have good luck more than once." She swipes at her face, wiping away the errant tear that escaped.

I wonder if it's worse to lose an amazing husband, or to never have had a good husband at all. Then it hits me, what Abby was saying. Why do I have to decide which scenario is worse? Can't they both suck? Why do I make everything into some kind of sick competition? I reach out and place one hand over hers. "I'm so sorry that Nate got sick."

She bobs her head. "I know."

"Thanks for talking to me."

Abby blinks and straightens. "Three plus years out, does it still hit you sometimes, like a Mack truck?"

"I'm not sure what a Mack truck is?" I sigh. "But the grief and the loneliness still hit me, yes."

"I was hoping for a magic solution."

I laugh. "Sorry, no magic here."

"For what it's worth, I'd think long and hard about whether the security of the Lololime contract is worth giving up the right to make my own life decisions."

"It's not "

"Maybe that's not fair," she says. "But it's how it feels to me. I'm also not saying that it's the wrong thing to do, to let them guide things a bit. I mean, I've met plenty of people who shouldn't be making their own decisions." She tilts her head. "But you, Amanda Brooks? You are not one of them."

Abigail thinks I'm competent and capable? Something swells inside of me, and it's so unfamiliar that it takes a moment to recognize the emotion: pride. "Thanks."

"I'll miss you if you're leaving."

"Maybe we should try talking on the phone now and then," I say.

"Novel idea, yes." She smiles. "But it won't be the same."

"I'm actually kind of glad we got stuffed into this house. And I'm sorry I was such a brat and insisted we get three rooms."

Abby shrugs. "My kids share just fine, and I think it helps them, honestly. When you're in forced proximity, you learn things about the other person." Her knowing smile would have annoyed me a month ago. Now I know she's making a joke about herself and me.

"I should probably have made my girls share for precisely that reason."

"Sounds like you've made up your mind to head back early." She stands up. "That's my cue to move along and let you be."

I don't feel like I ever really had any other choice.

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"Mom!" Ethan walks in the door. "You're not working right now." He glances around the room and catches my eye. "Aunt Mandy! You're here too. That's great. You're just the ladies I wanted to see." "Both of us?" I ask.

"Absolutely. Do you both have ten minutes?"

I shrug.

Abby nods.

"Perfect. I'll be right back. Wait here."

Abby sits down again.

"What do you think this is about?" I ask.

She frowns. "I'm virtually certain he's prepared his big pitch."

"Pitch?"

"We came here to give him a chance to convince me that ranch life was the way to go for him."

"Oh." I can't imagine Maren or Emery putting together any kind of presentation about what they wanted. They simply demand things and argue or cry alternately until I either freak out or they get what they want. "Should I duck into my room?" "No, please stay," Ethan steps back into the family room.

"Why do you want me around?" I ask.

"To keep Mom honest." Ethan's turned the charm to maximum plus one. His smile's obnoxiously cute, with those double dimples and beautiful teeth.

"Alright," I say. "I'm ready. I'm even thinking honest thoughts."

He chuckles. "It's not that you need to do anything, but having you here means she has to really listen and consider."

"Just go ahead already," Abby says.

"Alright, so you know why I'm here." He pulls a stapled stack of paper out of a box and hands one to each of us.

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! Abby frowns, but peruses the front page.

"This starts with a list of not only the things Uncle Jed specified that needed to be done, but a comprehensive list of tasks from January through December, with a time estimate next to each. I've taken the liberty of going through and assigning each task to either me, or Kevin, or Jeff. Jeff may be attempting to secure financing on his own ranch in the next few years, but he says we have at least one more year with him first. Hopefully by then I'll know enough to hire a replacement or take over his tasks myself. Some times delineated are a very rough ballpark, since I won't really know how much time it will take to mend fences until I see how many are damaged, for instance."

"This is thorough," I say. "And it's easy to read."

"The next page is a spreadsheet that shows the numbers I expect to see. Total expenses and cash flow, and then total income. You'll notice that I factored in waste and injury, as well as replacement inventory for the mother cows that are unable to safely have more calves."

"What's this?" Abby points. "Bull rotation? Why's that an expense?"

"We can't keep breeding the same bulls once we've rolled their daughters into the breeding population." He pulls a face. "So we need to trade or sell a certain number of bulls-tagging and paperwork helps with that-and procure new replacement bulls for the newer herds."

Abby asks a dozen questions, and then a dozen more. I've never seen her in action as a lawyer in court, but she's more terrifying even than I expected her to be.

Ethan fields each question as if he'd prepared his answers over and over.

Finally, Abby nods. "I appreciate the presentation," she says. "And as I promised you I would, I'll consider it. I expect you to consider this as well. I heard from Gus yesterday and you've been moved from the waitlist to approved status at Rice."

His face falls in much the same way I imagine mine did when Victoria told me I couldn't post more photos of the cowboy if I can't reveal his identity. I actually feel bad for Ethan, because as even-handed as Abby is clearly trying to be, I doubt she's going to let him stay here and manage a ranch alone. He's just too young.

"Aunt Mandy," Ethan says. "If I do manage to convince Mom, are you guys going to insist on being half owners?"

"Isn't that how it works?"

"The terms of the will are a little confusing," Abby says. "It's not clear whether all of the named beneficiaries take if one of them fulfills the terms, or whether only the beneficiaries who work the ranch would receive the full title." "You and your girls haven't really done anything," he says. "Except for, you know, offering moral support, which I appreciate."

We haven't done anything? I've been here for all the meals. I've helped clean and cook for all the kids. My girls have helped feed animals.

"I'm not trying to say that you're not welcome here," Ethan says. "But I'm the only one who's done watering and Mom and I have done all the rides out to make sure the cattle are okay and to take more salt and supplements. We've set up the pens and treated the calves and cows that were injured."

Instead of getting upset, I breathe in and out a few times. "I'll have to call Mr. Swift," I say.

"Alright,” Ethan says. "Thanks for listening." He ducks back outside, presumably to do more work that none of my family has helped with in the slightest.

"Don't stress about any of that," Abby says. "It's a moot point. We aren't going to stay here Ethan will be going to school."

I can't help wondering, as she grabs her laptop and starts to work on some kind of legal thing, whether Abby realizes that she's a bit inconsistent. She can't really tell me that I should be able to manage my own life...while simultaneously micromanaging her own, very capable child.