Thanks to Eustace

By Neenah Davis-Wilson

Anna Lynn's family is in West Virginia thanks to the death of her husband's cousin Eustace.

 

Shaine has accepted the duties of executor of Eustace's estate which is a nightmare of tiny rooms, no closets, drafty hallways, is set down in a hole . . . . with a fifty foot drop off in the backyard.

 

Sure—every mom wants to bring her kids to such a place, right?

 

Shaine and Anna Lynn have been married eleven years. For some time now, though, Shaine's been acting indifferent toward her. Seems the only time Shaine needs Anna Lynn is when he wants her to play the hostess for him and his buddies.

 

And now, while Shaine takes care of Eustace's business and meets up with his old friends, Anna Lynn is left to deal with their bored and restless offspring.

She's had enough of it. Time to give him a taste of his own medicine!

 

Today!

 

But today will test her sanity and her relationship with Shaine with a heart wrenching revelation.

 

Will it bring them together . . . or rip them apart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: DreamWynd Publishing
• Release date: May 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533701275

Neenah Davis-Wilson

Neenah began writing fantasy and mysteries in the fifth grade, fan fiction and westerns in her teens, and romances after her mother introduced her to Harlequin Romances in her twenties. She’s had the pleasure of speaking in classrooms and at workshops about writing in general, ePublishing, and writing as a career. Because Neenah is herself a lefty, many of her characters are also left-handed. She has never held the opinion that it’s been a curse or a disability to be left-handed. Nor is it something to be ashamed of. It’s simply another variety adding to the spice of life. She has many relatives and friends who are also left handed, including both of her sisters. Currently, she’s working on the third in her romance series entitled A Storm In My Heart.The fourth book is in the planning and outlining stages. Originally from Connecticut, Upper New York State is now home to Neenah and family, including her ten-year-old Rat terrier. Some of her interests besides writing are reading, biking, hiking, DDR, and bowling, her faith, time with family and friends, and of course, horseback riding.

Book preview

Dedication

Dedicated to all my family and friends, and to all those going through a tough time in Life . . .

Contents

Dedication

Thanks to Eustace

Neenah Davis-Wilson

A Note To The Reader

Other Stories by Neenah Davis-Wilson

Thanks to Eustace

Whispers from the vicinity of the back door of the kitchen alerted me to an illegal venture. I heard the door furtively open. Shh! Quiet, now! Can’t let Momma hear us! She’ll make us stay inside!

Okay, we be quiet, Jack! I gonna play in the dirt!

Me, too, I wanna make mud pies! You wanna make mud pies, Anthony?

Yeah, ‘Wyna! And I gonna make a mud castle!

Quiet, you two! Sylvana, is Mom in the hallway?

Silence. Then, Nope. Trista, stop hitting me!

Okay, let’s go . . .! 

Ah, those little sneaks!

Clever of them to take advantage of my vacuuming the living room to make their escape. Had I not shut the thing off when I did, I might not have known of their scheme for who knows how long. I probably would’ve thought them still playing upstairs. Quietly, for their father still slept in the room next to Jack and Anthony’s. No one wanted to wake him before he was ready to wake up on his own!

I could scream at them to stop right where they were; I could dash across the hall to the kitchen, dodging table, chairs, and toys to collar them at the back door. Or wait—it might be quicker to sprint down the hallway, through the stairwell, and into the kitchen that way—which would put me right at the back door.

Screaming would be quicker, but that would undoubtedly rouse Shaine. Shoving the upright vacuum aside, I snuck around to the back door by way of the hallway and stairwell route as fast as an irritated mother could run on tiptoes.

They were already out the door. Which Jack, my ten-year-old, was about to pull softly shut. I jerked it from his hand. He gasped, stepped backwards into the twins, pushing them further out onto the porch. My outraged glare swept from Jack to his equally guilty younger brother and sisters.

"Where do you think you’re going? You were told, more than once, you cannot play out here! It’s too dangerous! What about that don’t you understand?"

Sylvana, eight, commanded Baby Trista to stop yanking at her arm. Then, her blue eyes big and wide, she wheedled, We’ll stay away from the edge, Ma. Honest!

Ha . . . right!

This business of settling Eustace’s estate had gone on forever, and the kids were handling it horribly. I said with impatience, "Look, how many times have I told you? Eustace fell over that cliff over there, trying to put that fence up. Nobody’s finished the job! It’s a fifty foot fall onto those railroad tracks! No way are you playing out there! I swear your father must’ve been crazy wanting to stay in this place! Me, too, for agreeing to come! Get in here! Right now!"

They complied—grumbling.

Redheaded, five-year-old Allyna scowled. You no fun, Mom!

Yeah! declared her lisping twin, Anthony, Sanks to Eustath, I’m bored!

Yeah! Jack echoed, "Thanks to Eustace, we got nothing to do!" 

As if Eustace had deliberately planned it this way. Pretty sure he would’ve