The Bequest

In the week after my husband died, I said I was fine more than one hundred times. I didn't even start counting until the second day.

I was lying every single time, of course.

When Nate was first diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, I was not fine. During the next few weeks, while he underwent surgery and then every treatment they could throw at it, I was not fine. And even though I drew up every document that we might need and spent every possible moment with him before the end, after he died, I was not fine.

But now it's been a year, and with careful planning and a lot of hard work, I can actually tell the truth when someone asks how I'm doing.

"How's it going?" Robert Marwell's standing in my doorway, a half smile on his face. He's not a managing partner with Chase, Holden, and Park, but he probably will be in the next few years.

"I'm fine," I say. And I mean it.

He takes a few steps into my office and sits in one of the wingback chairs. One of the things I like best about Robert is that even though I'm an associate and he's a partner, he doesn't summon me. He walks all the way down the hall to my office when he has something to discuss. "They're voting in early September," he says. "I know that feels like a long way off, but I think it's good timing."

In just four and a half months, they'll be voting on whether to add any new partners. "Why is it good?" It's not that I think it's bad, but I'd like to know his reasoning.

He glances back at the open doorway and drops his voice. "You've been at the firm for just as long as Nate and I, but other than your first two years, you've always been part time. If you were wanting to be Of Counsel or something, it would be a lock. But as it is..." He looks over his shoulder again.

Who's he worried might overhear?

His voice is barely a whisper now. "Lance isn't keen on adding you. Since you own Nate's share in a limited capacity, if we make you partner-"

"I'll be entitled to buy my own share when I'm voted in, and then I'd have double the ownership of anyone other than the named partners-which would give me twice the voting rights."

"I told them that didn't matter. How often do we disagree? When would your double share actually matter?" Robert shrugs. "You know Lance. It's less about what will really happen and more about his ego."

"But why is September good?" I press. "It's not like he gets happier and more easygoing over the summer." If anything, all the people taking vacation drives his blood pressure up.

Robert laughs. "No, but my other piece of news will help you understand."

I raise my eyebrows. "And?"

"The BenchMark case goes to trial in August." He leans forward. "I made sure you're on it, but when it comes time to try the case, I'll step back and let you take first chair."

A big win on something like that would go a long way toward reassuring the partners that I can perform when the stakes are high.

He crosses his arms. "If you win something like this, no one could justify voting against you, not even Lance."

I'm not even sure what to say. It's such a generous offer, and it's exactly the opportunity for which I've been hoping. With Robert in my corner, if this all goes as planned, my family will be back on track by the end of this year. "Thank you, so much."

He stands up and shakes his head. "Please. Nate would have done the same for me if our roles were reversed."

"Maybe not." I scrunch my nose. "I can't even imagine him handing a case to Maisie."

"You know what I mean," Robert says. "If I still had a wife and she needed his help, he would have given it." When he laughs, his eyes brighten and his perfect, white teeth flash. Even with a tiny streak of grey at his temples, Robert's a good- looking guy. "Nate certainly chose more wisely than I did. I'm just sorry that " He swallows. "You know what I mean."

I do. Robert was nearly as upset as our family when Nate passed away. They'd been best friends since college. And I didn't meet the two of them until law school. I still remember the summer when the three of us had our first clerkship, together, at this very firm.

He pivots on his heel and walks to the doorway, pausing just before he leaves. "Do you have plans for lunch?"

I haven't gone out for lunch since Nate died. He must know that he's certainly never asked me before. A warning bell goes off in the back of my brain. Is Robert asking me out? Surely not. First of all, he's one of my oldest friends-and Nate's. That alone would make it strange, but secondly, Nate's only been gone a year. Surely no one could expect me to date again so soon.

"It would be nice to have a little time away from the office to discuss the plans for the case. I obviously can't mention my full plans too loudly here." He looks surreptitiously up and down the hall one last time, like we're spies or something. "I have a deposition this afternoon, so if you want to hammer out some rough plans, lunch is probably our best bet." He tilts his head sideways. "I promise not to bite."

The case, duh. I'm such an idiot sometimes. Hopefully he didn't notice my hesitation. "Oh, sure."

My cell phone rings. Only my kids or their school call me on it, as Robert knows. "Take your call. I'll circle back around in half an hour."

Tension I didn't realize I was holding in my back releases the second he's gone, and I swipe to answer. "Hello?" "Hey, Mom, it's me."

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! "Gosh, I'm so glad you clarified, Ethan. One of these days I might even figure out how this phone thing works, and when I see your name, I'll know who's calling." "I'm not holding my breath, boomer," he says.

"That's rude. I'm Gen Y, okay?"

"Barely."

"Everything okay?" He rarely calls me when I'm at work. Text messages are so much easier.

"Yeah, I'm fine. But look, Mom-I know you're busy, and I know your gut instinct is going to be to shut me down, but can you just listen?"

I suppress the giant sigh that's trying to claw its way out. "Is this about Dave's speakers again? Because we "

"Mom, no, it's not about the speakers."

"What, then?"

"Just listen, right? Before you freak out or say no, you'll just hear me out?"

"I am listening," I say. "And I never freak out."

"You do say no a lot."

"What do you want?"

"Look, Riley's dad's competing in the Baja 1000 and they need some extra cash, so he's selling his brand new RZR XP turbo." "Didn't Riley wreck it last week?"

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!

"I mean, it got a little banged up, but it's nothing I can't fix. Seriously, Mom. Once it's repaired, it'll be worth thirty grand, easy, but Riley said he'd sell it to me for nineteen!"

I don't laugh. Or at least, I try not to laugh. "You don't want me to say no, and yet, you don't have the money to buy that. Please help me out. What am I supposed to say right now?" "Mom!"

"Ethan!" I know he's struggling with his dad being gone. Spending time with Riley and his dad has been helpful, I think. But I don't have the time, and we don't have the money with only my (currently much lower) income, to buy huge things like fancy side-by-sides.

"How can you say I don't have the money? I have like eighty grand!"

"Are you talking about your college fund?" He's got to be kidding. All my sympathy for his cause just disappeared if he's really trying to convince me to sacrifice his future on some fun weekend plans. "I know you're not talking about spending your college fund on something this frivolous. And may I remind you, we would then need a trailer and a truck in order to even use that thing." "Mom-"

"Ethan, I don't have time-"

"You didn't even listen to me," he says. "With the money I'd save getting this one "

"The money you would save?" I can't help laughing this time. "You sound like a spoiled housewife. You aren't saving a single dollar-you're buying something that costs, what? Twenty-five times the amount you have personally saved?" "I have a job now, Mom. And-"

My office phone rings.

Even Ethan knows what that means. "I know, I know. You have to answer that. But don't hang up. Hear me out at least. I'll wait."

I often wonder what God was thinking when he planned out the teenage years. They're emotionally miswired, they rage against the people who are helping them (who have nothing to gain, incidentally), and they're never satisfied with anything. Maybe it's not about the kids. Maybe these years were created to expand parents' patience. "Fine."