Page 14 of Plunge

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Thistle

ARCHER CRAWFORD IS actually really fun to work with. He’s pleasant and easygoing, always cracking jokes about tax codes. His office was an absolute mess, but I get that he worked alone for a really long time before asking me to help out.

I convinced him to rearrange the furniture so visitors weren’t looking at our computer monitors as they walked in, and told him it was ok to shred some things from ten years ago. After that, we got down to business pretty quickly. Turns out, Archer takes breaks by blurting out everything he’s thinking every half hour or so.

By the end of my first day, I’ve learned all about his love interest, Opal, who is apparently not as into him as he is into her. “You brought her home for Thanksgiving and she’s living with you, but you don’t think she likes you?”

I arch a brow at him, glad for the break from working out the nuances of my first “sins and vice” project: Diana’s taxes. Diana owns and operates a medical marijuana growing facility and the tax angle of this is fascinating. Possibly as interesting as international mergers.

Since the industry is legal on a state-by-state basis, but accountants are licensed nationally, there is debate about whether CPAs can even accept businesses like hers as clients. My head is swimming with the details, so I’m grateful for the distraction about Archer’s lady troubles.

He chews a sandwich while he talks to me about her. “Like I said, she’s always kicking me out of bed or disappearing for a month at a time. She’s skittish.”

“Maybe it’s because you talk with your mouth full,” I tease.

I feel sheepish that sometimes, I think his family health drama is a bit of a relief. The town chatter has transitioned away from my family for a bit as they all collectively fret about Abigail Crawford, who is on bedrest at the nearby hospital.

It makes me feel like a shitty person to think these things. Especially about a woman whose baby is in trouble. A woman who presumably wants to be pregnant…

It’s better if I can dive into some complicated work and keep my shitty thoughts and my terrible feelings down deep inside. I’m grateful for the work with Archer.

When I’m not in his office, I’m driving to and from all my mother’s appointments. The entire life I didn’t want for myself, with color-coded calendars and schedules and no time for my own grooming, let alone any fun…I’m neck deep in it.

I ordered a bunch of clothes online to wear to work with Archer even though it’s obviously a casual environment. Archer started wearing khakis to work, but his siblings keep telling me how he generally does his best work in sweatpants.

I can relate to that urge when I’m driving my mother around. I always dressed the part in New York. Here, I’ve been cramming myself into leggings and old hoodies and carrying a notebook about different speech exercises and Mom’s progress on heel strikes while she’s walking.

A big day for me is if we go out for pastries to celebrate Mom mastering saying a new phrase out loud and use it in the right context. She’s to the point where she can say my name, and I am secretly pleased that she calls both my dad and my brother “Branches.” I know it’s not nice to take any sort of joy in her speech challenges, but her fucking up their names on the reg makes me feel good.

Neither of them has been home much since this whole thing went down. I haven’t told either one of my parents that I lost my job. I worry it would make my mother feel guilty and my dad would just act smug and entitled to have me remain here as a caregiver forever.

I mutter “Branches” under my breath as I type in a flurry of numbers on Diana’s spreadsheet. I’m finally in a groove, Archer’s finally being quiet—also in a groove—when the door flies open and Indigo bursts into the office.

“What are you doing after work, Thiss?” She says by way of greeting. Gavin’s not with her, so I can tell she must be in a hurry. Indigo has been on edge since Abigail was admitted to the hospital, which is understandable.

“Um…helping my mom get dinner started, I guess.”

Indigo looks over at Archer, who is so deep in his work he doesn’t even seem to realize she has arrived. “Bring her along. We’re going to the Crawfords’ to set up the baby’s room.”

Indigo explains that Hunter and Abigail have been at the hospital since the baby shower and haven’t had a chance to set anything out. Abigail’s due date is creeping up closer and a bunch of people from town are meeting over there to wash baby clothes and set up the crib and such. “Your mom can sit with Gavin,” Indigo says, as if that fully settles it.

“Hmm well she can’t actually pick him up reliably or shout out to us if something is wrong,” I start to say, not even getting a chance to worry about all the steps in Abigail’s townhouse.

Indigo waves a hand. “I mean, there’s going to be like eight of us over there. She won’t really be in charge of the Gav-ster. I’m making pizzas and Diana is bringing her homemade beer. Archer!”

She waves her hand in front of his face. He looks up, startled to see her there. He pulls out his headphones. “Oh. What’s up, Indigo?”

“You’re coming to Hunter’s house tonight to help. Asa and Moorely will be there, too. Bring Thistle and her mom. No excuses!”

She bustles out of the office and into the law offices next door, presumably to shore up these plans with her wife.

“Who’s Moorely,” I ask, helping Archer detangle from the headphone cord.

“Computer guy who teaches at the college. He’s working with Opal on a project,” Archer’s face lights up when he mentions his girlfriend-who-isn’t-a-girlfriend. “She’ll probably be excited to come with us if she’s not at a birth.”

Archer’s lady is a midwife, and I remember that she’s been keeping a close watch on Abigail for the whole pregnancy. My mom texts a little while later to say she caught a ride to Hunter and Abigail’s house, which makes me smile. Suddenly I’m feeling very involved in the goings-on of the town.

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