Chapter 7
seven
“Teddy!” Dan’s cheerful voice was the first thing Teddy heard as be came down the escalators into baggage claim.
The airport was busy most weekends but seemed especially flooded today. Not that it deterred Dan, all six feet two inches of him, incorrigible child in an Adonis’s body that he was.
He tackled Teddy with a hug, whereas Rick went with a briefer one-armed half hug that Teddy thought more appropriate when in public surrounded by strangers.
Rick was large, too, nearly as tall as Dan but even more broad, the both of them like hired muscle or construction workers instead of a nerdy engineer and a writer.
“Why’d you even check a bag?” Rick grumbled as they waited at the carousel for Teddy’s suitcase. “You’re only staying the weekend.”
“I didn’t want to wrinkle my tux. Besides, I have cupcakes I couldn’t bring through security.“ Teddy grinned.
“Cupcakes?” Dan pouted. “You didn’t finish them?”
“Not yours. My new baker friend wanted me to give you some of his so you can tell him what he’s doing wrong. They’re gluten free, and they need work.”
Dan beamed all the way to the hotel, knowing a professional baker wanted tips from him. He’d always said that while baking would only ever be a hobby for him, it was very influential in his engineering and vice versa, because both endeavors required careful planning, precision, and experimentation.
Sitting stationary on the plane had admittedly left Teddy’s hip a bit sore, but it had been a short flight, and once he was out of the car and walking up to his hotel room, he already felt better.
Rick and Dan had offered to let him stay with them—Erina and their mother had offered the same—but Teddy wanted his own space. It was a nice room, too, complete with wet bar that Rick was taking advantage of while Teddy settled in.
“How’s the new play coming along?” he asked.
“Eh.” Rick shrugged as he mixed himself a drink. “Not feeling it yet. Can’t figure out what’s not clicking. Thought I’d wait to visit you at that beach house until after I finish, but I might need earlier inspiration. Or I just suck at romance.” He tossed in an ice cube a touch too harshly.
“Impossible.” Dan moved to his side to kiss him.
For once, Teddy didn’t mind their constant displays of affection and sat sprawled comfortably on the sofa. “Writer’s block?”
“He’s been out of sorts ever since this one bad review came in for Heatwaves,” Dan said as he sat in the other corner.
“The current show? You’ve had dozens of great reviews.”
“Yeah, well, the one bad one pissed me off.” Rick threw in another ice cube.
“I’m surprised he hasn’t hunted the man down.” Dan giggled.
“What did he say?”
“That the dialogue was choppy and unnatural, and the romance completely absent from the page.”
“That’s ridiculous, the exact opposite of what everyone else is saying. Can’t you just chalk it up to bad taste and forget him?”
“Coz you were so good at ignoring bad reviews?”
“That’s different. All my detractors were clearly morons.”
They laughed, but Teddy would stand by his statement.
“Who was it anyway?”
“Who can remember?” Rick grunted, proving he likely had the man’s name and home address memorized but was trying to avoid an assault charge. “You too, babe?” he asked Dan with a swirl of his drink.
“Sure. Teddy? Or can you not have anything?”
“In moderation. Tonight, I may need to push that.” Teddy kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, thinking of all the people from his professional life he was bound to run into later.
Like Hartley.
Scooting across the sofa to get closer, Dan put on his most potent puppy expression. “How are you doing, Teddy? Really?”
Normally, Teddy hated when Dan got invasive like that, just like he’d been wary of Finn’s oozing sympathy, but it didn’t feel as strained anymore to be open. “Better than I thought I’d be. Some days more than others, though.”
“Hot young piece of tail helps, I bet.” Rick chuckled.
“Rick!”
“It does,” Teddy admitted with a grin.
“Well, in that case.” Dan scooted closer.
“In that case, what?” Teddy leaned away from him.
“Tell us about him!”
“What are we, schoolgirls?” Rick snorted.
“Daniel was a Girl Scout,” Teddy couldn’t resist teasing, and both he and Rick snickered.
“Funny,” Dan said, crossing his arms petulantly. “And it was Eagle Scout.”
They laughed harder, and before long, Dan was unable to resist twitching with a smile of his own.
After the first few sips of the drinks Rick made them, Teddy loosened up enough to tell them things about Finn he hadn’t shared over the phone.
When the hour grew late, however, between their drinks and catching up, it was time to get ready. They wouldn’t see Erina until after the ballet, entrenched as she was in preshow responsibilities, but Laverne had insisted on dinner and would be joining them for the show as well.
Rick and Dan had brought their tuxes along to change at the hotel. Teddy’s felt snug once he got into it, but it still fit, thankfully.
“There’s my baby,” Laverne gushed when they arrived at the restaurant. She was a beautiful woman, all class, in a glittery black evening gown. “How are you, sweetheart?” She kissed Teddy’s cheek after embracing him.
“Old and weak but managing.”
“Oh,” she scoffed, lightly smacking his arm. “What does that make me if you call yourself such things?”
“Gorgeous,” Teddy said, “eternally and forever.”
With a wave of her hand, Laverne dismissed the compliment while also preening from it.
“You boys always look so handsome together.” She turned to Rick and Dan, hugging them and kissing each of their cheeks as well.
Once they were in their seats, she smirked at Teddy and said, “Why on earth are you having your admittedly ravishing mother at your side tonight instead of your dashing new man?”
“Because you insisted,” Teddy teased. “And because the other option is a plane ride away, but I’m sure Finn will adore meeting you someday, Mother.”
“Dear, what on earth did you do to your hand?” She noticed his bandaged thumb, prompting Teddy to retell a few stories he’d told Rick and Dan.
He also remembered a few stories he’d forgotten, but eventually, conversation moved away from Teddy, and he got to hear more about Rick’s writing woes, Dan’s recent contracts for engineering projects, and his mother’s volunteer work.
He could almost forget where they were headed after dinner, but not so much that he didn’t have a glass of wine.
And then another.
He almost had a third but knew better than to give in to the temptation, much as he was happy to be partially buzzed when they finally hit the city streets and walked from the restaurant to the theater.
Teddy loved this theater, the warm burgundies and brilliant golds of the moldings, the painted ceiling in the main theater that could have rivaled the Sistine Chapel, and especially the split staircases leading up to balcony level from the front, creating an opulent entryway where high society gathered to whisper gossip behind each other’s backs.
Teddy wanted to see the show, to support Erina. It was seeing everyone else from his old circles that he wanted to be drunk for.
“Teddy, how are you hanging in there?”
“Managing to keep busy, Mr. Scofield?”
“After all these years, what are you doing without dance?”
Like he’d said to his mother, he felt ancient, ten times as old as usual, washed up and useless. It was Wednesday all over again, the exponential decline in his mood like a widening sinkhole in the pit of his stomach, but without the pleasant date night to make up for it later.
At least he’d managed to avoid Hartley, mostly by keeping out of his eyeline.
“Are you all right, dear?”
Teddy had gravitated to the wall, as out of the way as possible without blatantly hiding. He longed for the lights to flicker and signal that the show would be starting soon as he nursed a water while deeply contemplating getting a bourbon.
“Sorry, Mother.”
She rested against the wall beside him, people watching in kind. “Tough being back here, I take it? But don’t you listen to them. You’ll find your place again. It’s just going to take time, like everything does.”
Teddy knew that, but he wished he had something stronger than a mild buzz or even his mother’s unwavering support to remind him of the good things.
“Ah, well, maybe this will help,” Laverne said with familiar mischief in her tone. “Erina mentioned she had a surprise for you, and I think he just walked in.”
Turning in surprise toward the doors, Teddy didn’t truly believe it could be who he desperately wanted to see right now, but there Finn stood in a perfectly fitted tux like he’d manifested out of a dream.
He looked like the temptress from a Bond film—the male version. If only Teddy was so lucky to be Bond.
Then he realized he was.
Teddy wore his tux well, too, though maybe not as well as Finn, with his scruff neatly trimmed to look just the right amount of unkempt. Even if Bond wouldn’t have been bothered to suffer a hip injury, Teddy still felt like 007, waiting for his homme fatale to strike.
“Believe it or not,” Finn said when he reached them, “I even have a ticket.”
“Erina.”
“Yeah. I got the feeling I couldn’t have said no if I’d wanted to. Not that I did.” His eyes crinkled with how genuine his smile was.
“You were going to look in on Smudge for me.”
“Don’t worry. Carlos has it covered.”
“You look….” Teddy couldn’t find the right words, certainly not a PG enough version for this venue.
“You too.”
Laverne delicately cleared her throat, waiting to be introduced as she reminded Teddy of her presence.
“This is my mother, Laverne.” He gestured to her with the grandness she deserved, though he still worried she might scare Finn off. If Erina hadn’t, though, maybe that was more difficult than Teddy would have guessed.
“A pleasure, ma’am.”
“All mine. You know, twenty years ago you would have been just Teddy’s type.”
“Mother,” Teddy sighed.