39. Teddy
WHEN TEDDY brOUGHT POPS HOME FROM THE HOSPITAL , she found a woman sitting in the rocker on his front porch. Several grocery bags and a suitcase circled her feet. Her grandfather hadn’t mentioned the woman, but nothing about him surprised her. Besides, in this part of Texas, single men were rare as vegans, especially men in their golden years. The woman on the porch greeted her—a 2020s version of the classic Golden Girls—crisp white tunic over a pair of trendy skinny blue jeans, and red and blue scarf tied jauntily around her neck. The woman had a flattering and most-likely expensive short haircut that probably shaved a few years off her total age. Teddy guessed her to be seventy-five—eighty tops—to her grandfather’s ninety.
Seeing this spunky, cute, well-dressed woman, she assessed her own appearance—saggy, wrinkled jeans, hair whirled into a sloppy bun—and she hadn’t showered in two days. Definitely not ready for prime time.
Teddy stalled the Jeep and turned to Pops. A broad grin covered his face.
“That would be?” Teddy tapped her grandfather on the shoulder.
“A church lady.”
“You don’t go to church.” She parked in front of the porch.
“I do now.”
“Since when?”
“I guess it’s been about five years now. When you’re my age, years go by like minutes, maybe seconds.”
“And, I’m just now hearing about her.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”
“Jack called me. Now don’t be mad at him. It’s all my fault. And you can’t be mad at me because I just had a heart attack. The doctor told me to avoid stress. Now, there’s no more to be said on the matter.” Pops opened the door of the Jeep, and then paused. “By the way, Jack’s coming for dinner tonight.”
Blood rushed to her head. Pops had no right to interfere, especially in his condition. “You can’t—”
Pops waved her away and climbed out of the truck into the arms of the mystery woman. She gave him a big kiss on the lips, leaving a smear of her lipstick on his mouth.
Teddy stomped over to them, a scowl on her face.
“Teddy, this is Margie.” He smiled as he motioned to Margie. “Teddy’s got a bee in her bonnet because we asked Jack for dinner.”
“I just think he’s the most handsome man I’ve seen in a long while, except for Pops here.” Margie stroked him on the cheek.
“Margie’s moving in for a while to take care of me. We decided to give the Llano folks something to talk about.” He gave Margie a little squeeze.
“But I wanted to help you.”
“No, you’re going back to Bird Isle first thing tomorrow morning. No need to keep the shop closed because of me.”
In a matter of minutes, these two senior citizens had corralled her. Even in the best of circumstances, she’d never been able to outwit her grandfather. Now that he was recovering from a heart attack, she didn’t have a chance. And, Jack. She hadn’t seen or talked to him in a week. Part of her wanted to see him, she had to admit. Without her friends in Bird Isle, without Jack, she’d been lonely. If she hadn’t had Pepper, she would have lost her mind completely. She’d put up a good show at her hospital visits, but she knew-he could see right through her. He always knew what she needed.
Margie escorted him into the house and then returned for her bags. Teddy grabbed a couple and followed Margie, hustling to keep up with her. Even though Margie wore a darling pair of red kitten-heels, she out-paced Teddy without losing a step. Her grandfather would be in good hands.
“We’re having chicken kebobs, fresh field peas, and salad. Your grandfather needs to scale back on the beef.” Margie loaded a package of chicken into the fridge. “I don’t need anything right now, dear. Feel free to go freshen up.” Margie winked. “Jack will be here in about an hour.”
Teddy assessed her stretched out jeans and wrinkled shirt—the dregs of living out of a suitcase. She hated the thought of getting all dolled-up for Jack. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach. She could leave right now. No reason to stay for dinner. But no way would Pops let her get away with that. He insisted she stay for dinner.
After a shower and an internal pep talk, she managed to make herself presentable. She’d rushed out of Bird Isle with just the basics. After rummaging through the closet of her old room, she found a simple cotton dress, a bit dated, but in a pinch, the dress might pass for retro. She slipped into her ankle boots. Maybe this outfit would meet Margie’s approval.
The familiar roar of Jack’s truck sounded outside. She hid behind a curtain and peeked out the window. Jack stepped out of his truck wearing his royal blue shirt—that cheater—he knew she loved the shirt. The shade set off the chocolate color of his eyes and made him irresistible. He decided to play dirty. A sinking sensation struck her legs, like a tackle, and she reached for the windowsill.
Margie had already reached his truck. She held Jack’s hands and stepped back as if admiring him. Teddy bristled as they disappeared into the house, and then she flopped onto her bed. Two seconds later, she moved to the vanity table, then back to the window. Ridiculous. Pops, Jack, and Margie had trapped her.
Now back at the vanity, she examined her face. Maybe she should put a bit more effort into her face—a smear of lipstick, perhaps. She didn’t want to appear as if she cared. But as much as she hated to admit it, she did care. Without Jack, the last few days had been miserable.
She settled on a pale lip gloss with just enough color to make her presentable. Then, remembering Jack’s shirt, she put a touch of blush on her cheeks and switched to a rosy lipstick.
Dinner emitted delicious smells of onions, peppers, and field peas into the house. Teddy followed the scents into the kitchen, trusting Jack would be on the porch with Pops. A cloud of steam rose from a pot of peas and buried Margie’s face.
Margie pulled off her fogged glasses and wiped them on her apron. “Now you just go out on the porch and have some lemonade, unless you’d rather have beer or wine. You know Pops can’t have alcohol just yet.”
“I’ll just stay in here and help out, if you don’t mind.”
“Now, Teddy, I don’t need a thing. You go enjoy your grandfather and that handsome Jack.” Margie lifted her apron and made a “shooing” motion.
“I’ll make the salad.”
Margie shook her head. “Already done and crisping in the fridge.” Margie took her by the hand and seated her at the kitchen table. “I’ve been a busy-body all my life, and I don’t intend to stop now.”
“That’s honest.”
“Your grandfather told me all about you and Jack. Jack didn’t know he’d fall in love with you.”
Her eyes widened.
“That’s right, dear, he’s in love.”
“Jack did him a favor, and in the meantime, Jack got free advertising for Angie’s Place Pit Barbecue.” She regretted the sarcasm in her voice. “I didn’t ask for this. I know it’s not a good idea to get involved with a widower.”
“Now where did you get an idea like that? If it weren’t for a widower, I wouldn’t have two adoring stepchildren. I prefer widowers.” Margie gave her a smug smile. “I know you’re dying to know—pun intended—I’ve had five husbands. I loved every one of them. Pops and I decided there’s no reason to make my total six. Nothing scandalous about a couple old folks shacking up. By the time you get to be eighty, you’ve lived several lifetimes.” Margie patted her hand. “If you’re lucky. And, I’ve been very lucky.”
Margie popped up from her chair and searched a kitchen cabinet. She pulled out a Mason jar, poured balsamic vinegar in it, added olive oil, and spices, and starting shaking. “I like a good vinaigrette, don’t you?” Margie examined the contents, then placed the jar in the refrigerator. “Girl, you’re stubborn as your grandfather said you were. Go get the men and let’s eat.”
Taking a firm grip of her arm, Margie pulled her from the chair and practically kicked her out of the kitchen. In the living room, her grandfather had a Tootsie Pop in his mouth and appeared deep in conversation with Jack, making her entrance even more awkward. She had that awful feeling that they were talking about her, just as she and Margie had been talking about Jack. She smiled, while inside she wanted to die. Let’s just get this dinner over with. “Dinner is ready.” Teddy waved them into the dining room.
Jack pulled the chair out for Margie when she entered the room. Always the gentleman, Teddy fumed.
“I’m thankful for something other than hospital food.” Pops admired the plate Margie dished out and set before him. “Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, whoever eats fastest gets the most.” He took a spoonful of peas from his plate.
Margie handed the plate of kebobs to Jack, who immediately passed the entrée to Teddy without taking one. Again, always Mr. Polite. Without raising her gaze to Jack, she slid a kebob off the plate.
“Are you thinking of moving to Bird Isle?”
Margie asked the question in her gracious, Southern way. Not many women could get away with asking such a bold question. But from Margie’s mouth, the question sounded totally innocent.
Jack raised a finger to indicate he was chewing.
“But I suppose you have your house up by Fort Worth. You lived there with your wife?”
Teddy’s stomach dropped. She had wanted to ask the question many times but never found the nerve. When you’re Margie’s age, she supposed you could get away with it.
Jack took his sweet time swallowing his food.
“Yes, same house.” The color had drained from his face.
“They always say don’t make any rash decisions after a death,” Margie said with a little shrug. “It’s perfectly understandable.”
Sweat pooled under Teddy’s arms. Between his businesses and his house, Jack’s connection with Angela was unbreakable. If Pops hadn’t pressured Jack into helping Teddy, they wouldn’t be here today.
“I’ve bought some fine cows at that Fort Worth stock show,” Pops said.
“You’re right about that.” Jack’s voice boomed loud and enthusiastic. “No place beats it.”
“How did we get on the subject of cows?” Teddy wrinkled her brow.
“That’s right, gentlemen.” Margie put a hand on Pops’s arm. “We were talking about where Jack lives. And Bird Isle, how fun that Teddy lives there. I mean, except for the hurricane. There is something so restorative about the beach, don’t you think?” Margie leaned toward Jack.
“I used to fish there with—well, I used to fish there.”
Teddy’s heart pounded in her ears. Jack and Angela fished together. Just one more thing she hadn’t heard about.
“I’ve always wanted a place in Bird Isle.” Jack glanced at Teddy. “Now more than ever.”
“I think that would be a fine idea.” Pops slapped Teddy on the knee.
“It depends on the weather.” Jack made a shivering motion. “It seems a little chilly there right now, if you get my drift.”
“Summer will be here before you know it,” Pops said.
“That’s enough innuendo.” Teddy raised her voice slightly. They were ganging up on her. “If you’ll excuse me, this is delicious, but I can’t eat right now. It’s been a long day.” Teddy scooted from the table and gave Pops a kiss on the forehead. “Leave the dishes for me, please, Margie.”
Pops reached for Teddy’s arm. “If you must. But come visit me after dinner, in about a half hour. I want to talk to you before I go to bed.”
Great, just great. Teddy’s temple pounded. “Yes, Pops, I will.”
“Goodnight, Teddy,” Jack said.
She mumbled him a good night.
After dropping onto her bed for a pity party, Teddy went to Pops’s room as commanded. She found him sitting in his pajamas and seated in his overstuffed chair.
“I’m not sure you made Jack feel very welcome tonight,” Pops said. “He’s not to blame.”
She cringed. “Let’s not talk about it. Anyhow, you’re doing fantastic. But you still need rest.”
“Nice try.” Pops glared at her. “Your mother would have liked Jack. She wasn’t that fond of Daniel, you know.”
She nodded. “Neither was I.”
“When your mother died, I knew I had to do everything I could to keep you from blaming yourself. Your mother wouldn’t want that.”
“Are we talking about Jack or my mother.” Teddy blurted out the words. Why did he have to talk about Mother?
“She wanted you to be happy in life.”
“I’m happy enough.”
“You act miserable to me. So miserable, you can’t recognize that Jack loves you.”
“You don’t know that.” She stared into Pops’s eyes, wishing she believed him.
“And you love him.”
Teddy winced. “I don’t need Jack in my life right now.”
“I think the timing is perfect. He’s your . . . whatdaya call it? . . . soul mate.”
She’d never heard her grandfather use that expression before. “You know, there’s no such thing.”
“No? Okay, then, there is such a thing as a good teammate, someone to pass the ball to when you’re about to be tackled.”
Jack had helped her after Pickles ruined the toffee. Jack found Pickles’s owners. Jack helped her rescue Pepper. Jack worked on her store—and then the magical evening at the Mexican restaurant, the concert, and the barbecue wagon with no name on it. The guy’s good-guy qualities could fill the bed of his truck.
“Your mother would want you to move on, just as Angela would want Jack to move on.”
Teddy shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t punish yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m not punishing myself.”
“You had no control over your mother’s death.”
“I shouldn’t have insisted that she come to Houston.”
“You didn’t kill your mother, a drunk driver did.”
Teddy’s breath drained from her chest. She sat at Pops’s feet and placed her head on his lap. He stroked her hair with his bony hand. “Remember what you said about Kim Son Restaurant. Mama La lost everything. But she didn’t give up. And now, they have everything.”
Pops always knew the right thing to say. The La family had recovered, even thrived, like Job in the Bible.
“You should have told me about you and Jack.”
“You know you wouldn’t have let me help you.”
“I didn’t want to take anything from you because I’ve already taken everything from you.”
“You didn’t take your mother from me.” Pops narrowed his eyes. “For the last time, a drunk driver took her from us.” He raised his voice. “You’ve been telling yourself a lie for a year now. You’re not responsible for your mother’s death. Don’t let her death be the death of you.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand more than you think.” His jaw clenched. “Now go.”
She knew better than to protest. She kissed him on the forehead. “You better get to bed.”
“You might want to see what your mother thinks about all this.” Pops waved her away. “You’ve got some time before dark”
Outside, the ranch dogs and Pepper were chasing each other in the side yard. A cold wind whipped across the porch and then created a dust devil on the drive. The dust twirled and twirled and twirled until finally the thing disappeared. In the porch light, the dervish looked like a ghost. A shudder passed through her.
Margie stood. “Pops will be wanting his kiss goodnight.” She touched Teddy on the shoulder. “Jack said to tell you he wanted the two of you to build a chain of businesses just like Kim Son.”
“That’s all he said?”
“Do you know what he’s talking about?”
Teddy nodded.
Margie opened the screen door. “He said he could take a hint. You were a bit icy at dinner, dear. I believe Jack’s exact words were ‘cold as a beer at the bottom of the ice chest.’”
Jack and his sayings, he had one for everything. “I guess I was.” She gave Margie a tight smile. “I’m low on gas. I’m gonna take the truck to the cemetery.”
Margie waved as she closed the door.
Teddy climbed in the truck and found the keys in the ignition as usual. Pepper jumped in beside her. She steered onto the ranch road toward the creek. She’d been such a bitch of a daughter. The last day in Houston replayed over and over in her mind. Teddy even told her mother that Sweet Somethings was just a stupid candy store barely making a profit. And she spouted off more words, like how much more money she would earn in Houston, how her mother never had big enough aspirations. Teddy wanted to be different, to make something of herself. A sour taste filled Teddy’s mouth. Why did her mother have to die before Teddy could make things right between them?
At the creek, she stopped the truck on a rise overlooking an ancient cypress tree. The headlights illuminated the Wainsworth family cemetery. Lichens and moss covered all the gravestones except her mother’s. Fragments of memories passed through her mind, merely tidbits but jarringly vivid—her mother rescuing her from an oncoming wave, a bucket of shells in one hand, her mother haggling with a carny about the price of a cotton candy maker, her mother experimenting with vials of vanilla and orange extracts, like a Madame Curie, until she finally created the perfect Dreamsicle fudge. Teddy knelt beside the grave and stroked the smooth granite wishing for the warm touch of her mother, and when tears flooded her eyes, she welcomed them even though they stung like iodine.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” she said to the stone, the cypress tree, and the night sky now crowded with a velvety pincushion of stars. A heaviness lifted from her heart. Pepper settled next to her and let out a sigh. The creek rattled over its rocky bottom. A breeze swooshed through the boughs of the cypress.
She imagined her mother singing to the melody of the brook, “A good man is like a candy store,” she sang over and over.
Red leaves from a nearby oak showered her. They collected in her lap, and on her head, and surrounded her, rustling as they settled, as if a bagful of letters from all the ancestors buried in the cemetery. She rubbed her fingers over a leaf, its blade like crisp tissue paper. What message hid inside its veins?
Each time Teddy tried blaming herself, she came away with the sense her mother rested at peace. Leaves fall. Trees bud in the spring and bear fruit in the summer. No amount of blaming herself would bring her mother back. The emptiness Teddy felt without her would never go away, but as long as Teddy had breath in her body, her mother lived.
She texted Pops: I’m going to find Jack.