The reboot, p.11
The Reboot, page 11
I really have no reason to care what he thinks.
So when Will shows up with burgers, I am perfectly calm. I’m not going to let Patrick rattle me. My in-laws are nothing like his. They’re not even my in-laws, for heaven’s sake. I’m just dating Will. None of the things Patrick’s insinuating are even close to true. It’s probably all a big misunderstanding.
But Will has barely stepped through the door when I ask, “Why did your parents put an offer on my brother’s ranch without even asking me about it?”
Will’s eyes widen and he drops the bag he’s holding.
Fries spill out all over the floor, and the ketchup container spins round and round and round, finally stopping against my toe. Luckily, the lid stayed on. These are the details I’m focused on, because Will still hasn’t answered my very pointed, very clear question.
“Do you have bronchitis?” I ask. “Did you lose your voice?”
“No,” Will says. “It feels like we’re in the middle of a fight, but I’m just getting here.” He blinks. “I’m sorry, I’m trying really hard to catch up.”
He’s right, of course. I’m being monstrously unfair. It’s like I’ve convicted him without a judge, a jury, or a trial. My tone sounded totally nuts. “I thought I wasn’t upset, but I guess I am.”
“My parents?” He bends over and rights the bag. Then he starts to collect fries in his hands. “You’re saying they’re buying your family’s ranch?”
“Not likely,” I say. “Their offer was for asking price, and apparently my dad’s mismanaged ranch has bizarrely become some kind of hot commodity out here in nowheres-ville.”
Will’s brow furrows. “It’s a hot commodity? Why?”
“I had no idea either, but my boss wants it, as you know.”
“Right. His authentic tourist trap.”
“Apparently Kevin and Jeff do, but that’s not really a surprise. They’ve wanted their own place for years. But also, Abby’s sister inexplicably offered on it. . . and your parents. Patrick’s insufferably giddy.”
“I might have mentioned to my parents that your brother kind of tricked you into giving all the money from your dad’s estate to him, and how crappy it was that he’s now selling it and moving.” Will sighs as he stands up, his hands full of floor-fries. “I’m going to. . .” He gestures at the kitchen.
“Right.” I grab the bag and follow him. I set the bag on the counter and grab a paper towel, get it wet, and squeeze it out as he throws the fries out.
By the time I get back into the entryway to wipe the floor down, he’s done washing his hands and he joins me. The sight of Will, crouching down next to me on the floor, nothing to do, but hands all jittery with concern, realigns my brain.
“I’m sorry.” I stand up slowly. “I know you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But your brother called and told you all this, and he always gets you all twisted up in a pretzel.”
I snort. “Something like that, yes.”
“Right, well, here’s the thing. I certainly didn’t offer on the ranch, and no one ran the idea past me. My guess is that my sentimental dad is more upset than we knew about your brother stealing from you and then selling up. And he and my mother probably figured I could work it until Aiden’s old enough to take up the task himself.” He’s chuckling softly and shaking his head. “Dad’s like that—gets really weird and nostalgic about family land.”
“What if Aiden doesn’t want to be a rancher?”
“That would never even occur to my dad.” Will laughs. “He thinks that it’s everyone’s dream like it was his. You should hear him go off about how you can ranch and do whatever else you want to do. As if it’s a side gig. Did they even consider what might happen if you dumped me? And assuming we stay together, why couldn’t Aiden just take over my ranch?”
That’s when it hits me. It feels like an assault, almost. Like his parents are buying the ranch because Will’s ranch couldn’t possibly go to a child who isn’t Will’s.
Am I being totally nuts?
Yes.
Does that mean I’m wrong?
“Do you think your parents would be okay with Aiden taking over your ranch?”
Will blinks. “I don’t see why not.”
“He’s not your son.”
Will shrugs. “I mean, not technically, no, but if we get married one day, and I’m not trying to say you have to marry me, but if we do, he’d be as good as my son.”
“But not to your parents,” I say.
“I don’t think that’s a fair assumption to make.” Will frowns. “But even if they didn’t want him to take over my ranch one day, which is a big stretch, they’re the ones trying to buy him another one. Isn’t that kind of the same thing?”
“Not if they’re doing it to keep him away from yours.”
“You’re sounding. . . a little bit tin-foil hat right now,” Will says. “I say that out of a good place.”
I laugh. He’s totally right. “Okay, look, I told my brother to just take whatever offer he wants, and not to give your parents priority.”
“Thank goodness,” Will says. “The last thing I need is another ranch I don’t really want.”
“Wait, you don’t want your dad’s?”
He shrugs. “I mean, I guess I do? I don’t not want it, but I’d rather make money in other ways.”
“Like with cars?”
Will shrugs. “I’m good at it. It’s a side business, but I’ve been making the same profit Dad and I make on the ranch by fixing up and selling high end cars and resto-mods for the past five years. If I could do it full time. . .” He shrugs. “But the ranch is fine. I don’t hate it.”
But if he was suddenly running two ranches? “How do you even find time to work on cars when you’re running just the one ranch?”
He shrugs again, and this time, he tosses his head toward the kitchen. “Can you interrogate me about my hopes and dreams while we’re eating? Because I’m starving.”
I laugh. “Yes.” I follow him into the kitchen and he pulls what’s left of the fries out of the bag. Two hamburgers follow. “Nothing for Beth, huh?”
“I messaged her,” he says. “She told me she was eating dinner at her friend Kate’s house.”
“Look at you, being all polite to my sponger niece.”
“She’s family.”
My family never paid much attention to whether I had dinner, at least, not anyone other than Mom. And once she died. . .
He takes a giant bite of his burger and then chews a few times before he swallows. With as fast as men wolf down their food, it’s a wonder there aren’t more people in the ER for choking. “To answer your question, ranch work’s pretty intense during some seasons. Spring, for instance. Early fall. Winter has a lot of hay spreading, and so on, but there’s a lot of down time, too. I spend that downtime working on cars, because it’s a hobby that I love. I’ve been lucky that it also makes me money, most of the time.”
“Kind of the best of both worlds.”
“I guess.” Will’s phone rings.
When I glance at the screen, it says Dad. I grit my teeth.
He ignores the call.
“Just pick up,” I say. “I want to hear what they say when you ask about the ranch.”
Will purses his lips, but he listens to my request, swiping the bottom of his phone to answer the call. “Hello?”
“Hey.” His dad’s voice is tinny and small, but I can hear it. “How are all the cows doing?”
“Fine,” Will says. “I refilled the salt. They’re gaining weight on schedule. I accounted for all the calves.”
“Great,” he says. “That’s great.”
“I’m in the middle of dinner, though,” Will says.
“Oh, I’ll let you go, then. Sorry to interrupt.”
I clear my throat.
“Wait, Dad.” Will frowns.
“Yeah?”
“So, Donna’s brother called her today.” Will winces a little, which makes me even more nervous. “She said you guys put an offer on his ranch?” He’s full-on grimacing, now. My sweet boyfriend has always been conflict averse in his personal life, unless it’s to protect me from someone like Charlie or Patrick, and this looks painful.
“Oh, well, that.”
“That?” Will looks like he’s being waterboarded.
His dad coughs. “We thought it might be a nice wedding present, you know. Later on. It was your mom’s idea.”
“Dad, we aren’t even engaged, and—”
“This ain’t the kind of thing you can wait on, son. Once it’s sold, it’s gone. Do you know how often ranches are up for sale around here? Almost never. Plus we know how much you love Donna.”
Now I’m the one cringing. Will hasn’t said I love you yet, but I’ve had the distinct impression it’s because he doesn’t want to pressure me.
“Dad, you didn’t even ask me about it.”
“That’s not how surprises work, you know. And if we do buy it and you don’t want it, we’d clearly have no trouble selling it.”
“We can barely handle the ranch we have,” Will says.
“Look, you may end up with more than one son,” his dad says. “And if you do, there won’t be nothing wrong with having one ranch that’s underutilized or run by some ranch hands until you need the second one.”
“Alright, Dad. It’s fine. I get it.”
“So you ain’t mad, right?”
“Why would I be mad that you’re trying to do something nice?” Will chuckles. “But maybe the next time you want to spend millions of my inheritance, check with me first.”
“I’ll make a note of it.” His dad hangs up.
“See?” Will says. “No big deal.”
I wonder if we listened to the same conversation. “Your parents think we need a wedding gift?”
“No,” Will says.
“No?”
“I mean, he said that, but he didn’t mean it.”
“What if you have more than one son?” My voice is getting shrill.
“There’s nothing for you to be angry about,” Will says. “Calm down.”
I hate when people tell me to calm down. They don’t get to tell me that my feelings aren’t valid. Charlie used to do that all the time—insisting that any reaction on my part was irrational and all my fault. I stand up, my hands flying to my hips. “If I’m not calm, I have a reason for it.”
Will sets the last two bites of his hamburger down, which for him is a pretty significant move. “What’s going on with you?”
“What’s going on with me?” Fury rises up inside of me. “Your parents put an offer down on my family’s ranch, and when they confirm they did it for me, without even asking whether I want it, you’re just like, ‘oh, that’s fine. Carry on’?”
Will blinks.
“You know what? If you really can’t see why I’m upset, I think you should leave.”
Will’s brow furrows. He opens his mouth and then closes it again.
His parents are trying to mold us into little clones of themselves, from buying the ranch to badgering me to work for his mother, and they want to preserve their land for Will’s real children, but they’re disguising it as some kind of charitable act—how can he not even see any of that?
Will’s shoulders droop, and he sucks air through his teeth.
“Get out.” Somehow, having him sit there, pretending none of them have done anything wrong, only infuriates me more. He’s letting me spin out; all the while, he’s acting like he’s baffled.
“Are you serious?” His eyes are wide when they meet mine.
“As a barn fire,” I say. “Now get out.”
He doesn’t even pick up his hamburger. He just stands up, slides his phone into his pocket and walks to the front door. No less than three times, he pauses, looks over his shoulder at me with stupidly forlorn puppy dog eyes, and then finally ducks out the front door.
I’m so spitting mad when he leaves that for a moment, I just pace. But I need to tell someone what’s going on, so I pick up my phone. When I was going through this kind of crap with Charlie, I had no one to talk to. He wouldn’t let me talk to my friends about anything that was going on. If he ever found out, there would have been literal heck to pay. But now I have real friends who care.
I call Amanda first. With the way things are with Eddy, she’ll probably be the most understanding. Unfortunately, her phone just rings and rings and then goes to voicemail. I heave a heavy sigh into the phone. “It’s Donna. Call me when you get this.”
I’m apparently desperate enough to call God herself, so I dial Abigail.
“Hello?” Of course she answers on the second ring.
“Abby,” I say. “I need to talk.”
“You need to talk to Abigail the lawyer? Or Abby the friend?”
She differentiates between the two? What a strange person. “Um, I guess Abby.” Then I burst into tears.
It takes me a few moments to get coherent, but she’s patient and kind while I get the gist of the story out. And then I sit back, inhale deeply, and wait for her rage. She’s so articulate that whatever she says will surely rip Will and his parents to shreds.
“Let me make sure I understand everything,” Abby says. “You’re upset with Will.”
“Exactly,” I say.
“Because his parents put an offer on your family’s ranch that your brother’s selling.”
“Right.”
“But his parents did that, not him.”
She must not have heard this part. I’m probably too upset to be very clear. “But he talked to his dad on the phone, and he wasn’t even angry that they did it.”
“And. . .and what they did that’s so egregious,” Abby says, “is offer to purchase the Ellingson ranch as a wedding gift for you and Will, if things do work out, so that your future children would have more than one ranch, if any of them want to work one.”
“Right.” She’s finally getting it.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I must not understand.”
She’s so smart. How is this hard? “What doesn’t make sense?”
“At the risk of ticking you off at me too, I’m not sure why you’re mad at his parents, much less at Will. It sounds like they tried to do something really nice, and if Will got mad at them for that, even if their offer on the land was a little misguided, wouldn’t he be a terrible son?”
“Did you hear the part where they don’t want to leave their ranch to Aiden?”
“Did you hear that part?” Abby asks. “Because I’m not at all sure that’s what they are saying. But even if they are, buying him another ranch that’s of equal value feels pretty. . .equitable. Especially since you and Will aren’t even engaged.”
“Abigail.”
“Donna,” she says. “You listen for just a second. Sometimes it’s hard to see the forest for the trees, and I think that may be where you are. You spent so long with someone who was always out to get you that you’re seeing weapons and assassination plots where there are really proposals and flower bouquets.”
“Are you saying I’m the crazy one?”
Silence.
Oh shoot. That is what she’s saying.
Am I the crazy one?
“Your ex is a taker,” Abby says. “He took and took and took, and he’s taking still. His parents taught him to do that—to beg, borrow, steal, and manipulate anything he possibly could from every situation. But Will isn’t like that. Will and his parents are givers. Don’t project your stuff onto them when all they’re trying to do is love you.”
“Project?” I’m laughing now, and even to myself, I sound a little unhinged. “Abby, I kicked Will out.”
“Oh, no.” She starts laughing too.
I wipe away the tears my nervous laughter has created. “None of this is funny.” I hiccup once. “It’s sad.” My laughter evaporates as the reality sinks in. “You’re saying I’m the one who was wrong, and I think you might be right. I kicked my perfect, generous, calm, long-suffering boyfriend out of my house. What am I supposed to do now?” I’m practically supersonic by the end.
“Will knows you’re dealing with baggage from Charlie, because you always have been.”
“Are you saying I’ve always been crazy and he won’t be surprised?” My voice is far, far too shrill. I need to bring it back down to planet Calm.
“Donna, I think you need to watch an episode of your favorite TV show. Knit a hat. Go for a walk. Do something that usually makes you feel happy. And then, call Will and apologize. He loves you, and he’ll forgive you.”
There’s the love word again. It’s like everyone I know is pushing me toward telling Will I love him. And I should, I guess, but don’t I need to feel it in my bones? You don’t say you love someone because everyone says you should.
And how do I know whether I do or not? Even if I do love him, it means nothing. It’s no guarantee. I learned that the long, hard, depression way.
“Believe me,” Abby continues, as if my long silence was because I’m nervous about Will forgiving me. “If that boy was willing to wait for months while you turned him down over and over, he’ll be fine when you apologize.”
Was she right? Is that my fear?
I think about telling him I’m sorry. . .and I realize she’s right. How does she always know every stupid thing? “What if this is the last straw?” I can barely whisper. “What if he’s just done waiting on me to stop being nuts?”
“He’s not done,” Abby says. “You’re more amazing than you personally will believe, but he knows it.”
“On that note, you’re sure I’m totally wrong?” Is there some way I can get out of this without having to grovel? There must be some way.
“I mean, I wasn’t there, but if you told me the worst of what he said and did, then yeah. You owe him a big ‘I’m sorry.’”
After I hang up, I mull it over. Just the facts of what happened—trying to extricate my feelings about my family and my ex.
Will’s family saw my ranch was for sale. I told them I felt betrayed by my brother, and they know that I gave up my inheritance that he tried to steal. They probably feel pretty incensed on my behalf.
