The Bequest
Chapter 54—Abigail

We pass Amanda and Robert, both holding full plates, as we reach the line. I wonder whether Steve delayed bringing us here to minimize the awkward interactions. If he did, mad props to him.

"Is your friend enjoying his trip?" Steve really likes baked beans, judging by the size of his spoonful.

"I think so," I say. "But you were right. He did confess that he came because he heard I had a date." "No shock there."

I take a generous helping of my own potato salad, and then another spoonful of coleslaw. By the time I add a roll, I only have room for a slice of Steve's brisket, and a little bowl of his chili. "Which one's yours?" He points.

I scoop. "You're acting like I'm some kind of hot prospect." I can't keep the incredulity from my tone. "I've known Robert for twenty years, and he's an old friend."

"You don't see yourself clearly."

Isn't that what I was just telling Amanda? How can I argue with him now in good faith? "Agree to disagree I'm pretty objective about most things."

"You okay to sit outside?" He points. "The view over the water is about perfect as the sun sets."

"Sure." As a bonus, Amanda's sitting with Robert inside and Eddy's watching them like a hawk eyeing chickens. Now that I've actually seen a hawk watching little spring chickens, that phrase has new meaning-like a hawk. Hawks are kind of jerks.

"That seems to be going well."

"What?" Steve asks. "Your friend and your sister-in-law?"

I nod.

"He's just trying to make you jealous."

I didn't intend to tell him, but now I'm kind of stuck. I explain that Amanda likes Eddy and that Robert just happened to be on hand.

"Ah." Steve grins. "Now that's a solid plan."

"Right?"

"I could have come up with that myself. Nice work."

"Hopefully it does work. Amanda's not having the best day-actually, make that the best week."

"But is Eddy really right for her?" Steve pulls a face. "I mean, it's Eddy."

"What does that mean?"

"He's...got a reputation."

Probably a womanizer. I'm not surprised, with a face and body like he has. "Is this what we're going to talk about all night?"

"No." Steve swivels to look straight at me. "It's not."

"What else did you have in mind?"

"Did you always want to be a lawyer?"

That's not what I expected. "No, not at all."

"What did you want to do?"

"Honestly?" I laugh. "I had those annoying parents who insisted I could do or be anything at all. I really thought I'd be a famous singer." "Can you sing?"

"I can carry a tune, but I'm no Celine Dion," I say. "I was taking voice lessons, and my singing coach actually said I should be a lawyer some day." "And just like that, you decided to do it?"

I shake my head. "Heck, no. He was the first, but about half the people I met said that at some point or another."

"What about you made them think that?"

"Beats me. I didn't lie, cheat, or steal, and I never clocked my time, so by my accounting, I did nothing lawyerly." "You probably just intimidated them with your poise," he says.

"Stop."

"Steve!" A woman with her hair in a bun, surrounded with a halo of greying frizz, rushes up. "Come quick. It's Ron. I think he's having a heart attack."

He leaps to his feet and follows her, pausing only to say, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

I watch as he drops to his knees in front of someone just outside the door. He talks to him, touches him, and asks the man to push on things. After a few moments, he turns back toward me and shakes his head, his lips pursed. His message is pretty clear: not a heart attack. But he can't really just stand up and leave. He's stuck there reassuring everyone and doing doctorly things.

"That was exciting." Robert's leaning against the light post at the edge of the dock a few feet away.

I didn't even see him walk over. "Yeah, never a dull moment, even in this sleepy town."

"Why did they call Steve over to help?" He narrows his eyes. "Is he a nurse or something?"

"Doctor," I say.

"Wait, is he really?"

"Emergency room doc," I say. "That's why they call him the Horse Doc. He doesn't ever talk about it, so I was surprised too when he treated Whitney."

"He put the cast on?"

"Yep. It comes off next week," I say.

"He may not talk about it much, but why didn't you tell me he was a doctor?" Robert's tone isn't recriminating. He just sounds sad.

I walk over to stand next to him. "I don't know. I thought it might upset you."

"Because he's actually a catch?" His smile is wry. "Whereas I'm all mixed up with memories of Nate?"

"It's not like that." But that's a lie, I realize. Almost all my memories with Robert involve Nate. No matter whom I date eventually, I'll deal with guilt, but the idea of dating someone whom we knew together? It feels worse, more disloyal, somehow.

Which isn't rational.

If he could choose, Nate might pick Robert. He's a known quantity, a good guy. He genuinely loves our kids.

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"You sure?" Robert's staring down at me, his face cast in shadows from the light above us.

Everyone else is gathered around Ron and Steve and the wife.

It's a strange feeling, being surrounded by people and yet alone. It's a feeling I've felt over and over on repeat ever since Nate died. Except, this time I'm not all alone. Robert's with me. He's always with me. "I have memories of you just you," I say. "Remember before Nate and I ever started dating? We did our research together for the moot court presentation."

"You ate an entire package of Red Vines," Robert says.

"And then I puked." I shouldn't replace that so funny, but for some reason I do. "I was such an idiot."

"If you were in a room, you were the only person I even saw."

I turn to look at him, really look at him. Not as an old friend. Not as Nate's buddy. As a man. He's tall. He's in great shape. He's smart and kind and successful. And he has always cared for me. As if he can sense my feelings shifting too, his head leans down toward mine.

For one moment, my heart flips over, and I wonder what it would be like to kiss Robert.

But then I remember when we did mock trial together, the three of us. I remember when Ethan was born, and Robert brought Nate cigars. I remember dancing with Nate on New Year's, while Robert danced with Maisie, and I just can't. His lips have nearly reached mine when I stumble backward, my feet saving me from what my heart's not ready to handle.

Except, I forgot I'm standing on a dock.

My foot falls backward, my arms pinwheeling wildly. Robert reaches for me, but he's as shocked as I am. I fall down, down, down, backslapping into the lake. The water is freezing-it hits me like a wall of ice. I'm plunging under, sinking deeper and deeper. It's so dark, I can't even tell which way is up.

Until strong arms wrap around me and drag me upward. When I finally recover enough to open my eyes and make sense of what I'm seeing, I realize it's Steve. He must have taken off at a dead run and dived head first to reach me that fast. "Th-th-thanks." My teeth chatter.

"I'm no expert, but we may need to get you home and dried off." He grabs a wooden ladder. "I'm afraid we may miss the dance."

"You're no expert?" I'm shaking head to toe. "If you're not an expert on stuff like this, who is?"

He leans a little closer, the heat from his body radiating toward me. "It's too bad you had to dive into the lake to avoid an unwanted kiss, because I'm pretty impressive on the dance floor. Maybe for our second date, don't bring your boss." "I'm not sure my heart can take another."

"Doctor says? It'll be fine."

Tonight certainly went off course, but when he mentioned a second date, I didn't want to escape. I'm going to call that progress.