The Bequest

We arrive in plenty of time to buy tickets and find decent seats, only halfway up in the stands. The whole thing's much closer than I realized it would be. Horses and steers are all over the place. Saddled, haltered, going, coming. It's a lot busier and a lot more...legitimate looking than I expected.

"Abby!" Steve's sitting on a beautiful buckskin, wearing dark jeans and a blue button-down shirt that just matches his eyes. "Whitney, Izzy, Ethan, Gabe, welcome." He looks around. "Emery and Maren aren't coming?" "They're supposed to be," I say. "They'd already left when I did I wonder if they're lost."

"I'll look for them." Steve wheels around and urges his horse forward. It takes off like a shot, leaving dust behind him.

"So that's the date?" Robert's lips tremble with suppressed laughter.

"The Horse Doc," Gabe says. "That's what people call him."

"He's...younger than I imagined." He leans closer and whispers. "And he looks mostly sober."

I forgot that I never corrected my earlier assumption. "Oh, that was a misunderstanding. The beer was for one of his horses."

"Sure it was." Robert winks at me.

I haven't told Robert he's a doctor, either, but I know it will turn into a thing. Better to get it out of the way now, probably. "And it turns out he was sleeping-"

"Aunt Abby!" Emery's carrying an enormous paper dish full of nachos that I'm surprised her mother bought her as she walks up the stadium steps. "We were on the other side. Steve told us you were over here." "Oh good," Robert says. "You found us."

"Can I have some nachos?" Gabe's eyes practically light up.

"Sure."

"Don't eat them all," I say.

"I can go get him some," Robert says.

"No, you don't have to "

"I'd love to." He stands up. "Anyone else want anything?"

Ethan, always hungry, wants hot dogs, plural. Whitney wants popcorn, and Izzy, of course, wants cotton candy. "I veto that," I say. "But popcorn or nachos or something super salty that will likely cause an immediate heart attack is fine. I draw the line at starting the day with sticky balls of sugar that inevitably get stuck in my hair."

"No cotton candy consumption before noon," Robert says. "Duly noted."

He's been gone for three seconds when Steve rides around and stops in front of us. "You found them," he says.

"Thanks,” Amanda says. "Appreciate the tip."

"Do you need anything?" Steve glances around. "I have a few more minutes before we get started."

"You're riding a horse as a judge?" Ethan asks.

Steve smiles. "I'm judging saddle broncs, but I'm assisting with the calf roping and bull riding. I'll need to be mounted for that. This is just a little warm-up for Moses, here." "He's a beautiful horse," I say. "Almost as stunning as Farrah."

"I thought you liked my palomino best," he says.

"I do." I smile. "But he's a close second, if he's as sweet as Leo."

"All of mine are good," Steve says, "but Leo's special for sure. Moses is awfully close."

"Maybe I'll have to test them both and see. He could give Leo a run for his money." "I'd like that." Steve smiles.

Robert shows up a moment later, his arms full of snacks, and starts making his way to our row. Whitney and Izzy jog down the stairs, taking their popcorn and hot dogs. "Thanks."

"I'd better go," Steve says. "I'll come check in later."

The rodeo itself is fascinating. I've never been to one, so it all seems new. The saddle bronc riding looks absolutely horrifying-I'm relieved Steve's only judging. Three out of eight men competing are thrown before the minimum time, and one of them fails to mark up, which means his spurs weren't above the horse's shoulder when his front feet first hit the ground. The broncos are big and shaggy-footed, most of them. I certainly wouldn't get on them for anything.

"You don't have an interest in this, right?" I glare at Ethan, as if I can somehow ensure he doesn't.

"Steve did it," he says. "I bet he could teach me."

"Not if he values his life."

"I'm kidding, Mom. I don't need my brain scrambled. It's hard enough to focus as it is."

Thank goodness.

But when the barrel racing starts, all four of the girls shift to the front of their seats. It's pretty cool to watch the girls fly around the barrels, their reins flipping back and forth, clods of dirt flying up behind their horses' hooves. "Wow." Emery sits back. "I want to do that."

Amanda's mouth drops open.

"I mean, I'd like to one day. I know I probably won't."

"They don't even have rodeos in New York City," Amanda says.

"Actually, I looked it up," Maren says. "They have them in Madison Square Gardens."

Maren looked it up? I don't laugh, but it's kind of hard. She's changed quite a lot in a very short time.

The bull riding's almost too much for me. One guy nearly gets trampled, but Steve rides past and yanks him out of the way just in time.

"That was awesome," Gabe says. "Good job, Mr. Steve!" He claps and cheers as loudly as he can at his size. It's pretty cute to watch.

But eventually, it's time to head back. The kids all whine and complain, but that's how I know they had fun. It took me a while as a parent to discover that truth: if your kids are having a good time, assume there will be a lot of whining later on. Now, as a seasoned parent, I'm immune.

"Guys, we have chores to do, and I have to make a potato salad for the barbecue."

"Fine, fine." Whitney grumbles, but she stops whining. It's something.

Once we reach the house, Robert says, "I can help with the potato salad. My mom taught me how to make the best kind. If you have apples."

"Apples?"

He smiles. "Trust me."

I welcome any and all help in the kitchen, and his mother doesn't let me down. Adding apples to a fairly traditional potato salad really makes it stand out. "Thanks."

"I'm happy to watch the kiddos so you can focus on your date," he says.

The kids are watching 'Gravity Falls', which is a show I do not understand at all. But they're entertained, which means I can actually talk for a moment. I lean against the table. "Is that why you came, Robert? Be honest, because Ethan and Izzy can keep an eye on the other two. It's not like I'm a negligent parent."

"I didn't mean to imply that you were at all." He sighs. "And yes. It makes me sound like an idiot, but you know how I feel, and I'm afraid when I heard you had a date, I don't know." He drops his eyes to his shoes. "Maybe I went a little crazy." "It's hard for me," I say. "I miss Nate every single day. Most days I miss him every minute. I hate being all alone it's not even about needing to take the trashcans to the curb and do all the laundry alone. The kids have really pitched in, but it's not the same as having someone to talk to about everything, and someone who cares about the little details as much as I do." I laugh. "Or at least someone who pretends to care." Nate never paid much attention to the kids' school stuff or the horseback lessons or the gymnastics lessons. But he did care if one of them was hurting or lonely or upset.

"You can talk to me," Robert says. "Anytime. About anything."

"You're my boss." I sigh. "It's not that simple."

"Fine." He shakes his head. "I didn't want to do this, but I have no choice. You're fired."

"Hilarious." I sink into a chair. "I love working for you, actually. You're an amazing boss. You're brilliant and fair, and you always have my back. It's just that I can't really talk to you about how far my paycheck is stretching or the pair of shoes I want, right? It would sound like I'm asking for money." I shrug. "I don't know, I can't explain it."

"And you can talk to this guy about that stuff?" Robert sits next to me, his eyes almost too earnest.

"Oh please. I barely know him, truly. He's nice, and he's attractive, and he's funny." I sigh. "I want to have someone I can talk to about those things again. I think I realized that out here, in part because I'm in an unfamiliar place so things feel more stressful. In part maybe it's because I feel more isolated. But also, Robert, I won't be here much longer. So if I want to go on a date and not worry that I might break down and start bawling over a plate of ribs and potato salad, well, it's low risk."

He nods. "I get that, actually. But the last time I figured you'd be done dating someone pretty quickly, you married him."

"That's true."

"I know I said I wouldn't bring it up again, but it turns out that was a lie. If you're going to date, I'm going to be throwing my hat into the ring over and over, because Abby?"

"Yeah?"

His intense eyes lock on mine. "You're worth all the effort and then some, and I don't want you to be alone either."

This time, I don't feel uncomfortable. I don't feel uneasy. Maybe talking to Steve helped me somehow. I just feel... like I'm waking up after a too-long nap. A little groggy and disoriented, but also ready to stretch and do something active.