Chapter 15
Chloe
Nearly a week post-cheese festival, I was still waking up with the ghost of Teddy’s hands in my hair.
It wasn’t just the braid, though that was the part I replayed most often: the tender way her fingers gripped it, just like she’d held that bee; the way she’d looked at me afterwards, flushed and focused, like we were the only people in the world, and like she was glad of it.
It was everything leading up to and radiating from that moment: the shared exhaustion, the sniping that had given way to teamwork, her easy laughter when she caught me staring.
And then, of course, the rejection. Not a major one, but a rejection nonetheless.
When we’d unloaded the van at the farm, she’d given me an awkward salute and vanished into the house without a word. The next morning, it had been like nothing had happened – like we were back to square one.
I might have been losing my mind a little.
“How does it feel to be the fifth wheel?” Morgan asked Amy as we towelled off.
We’d done our best since Teddy and Jack had set off to avoid getting in the water, but it was just too warm.
Morgan had led the plunge into the river, and we’d paddled around for a while, walking on our hands in the cool, shallow water until we were shivering instead of sweating.
Willow bounded from the water to the bank, rolling in the grass to dry herself off, only to jump straight back into the river.
“She’s not the fifth wheel,” I insisted as I used the corner of my towel to dry Willow’s ears. “This is not a double date. And besides, there are six of us if you include Willow.”
“If it were,” Amy said, stretching herself out over the blanket, taking up far more than her share, “Jack and Teddy would be the ones on a date right now. They’ve been gone for so long.”
“It’s fine,” Morgan said, lacing her fingers through mine as she sat down next to me. “We can be on a date if you’d like.”
“Guys,” I said, wrenching my hand free, “there is nothing happening between Teddy and me. Trust me.” Because, believe me, I didn’t say, I tried.
Not that I had tried that hard. But still, I hadn’t not put myself out there. There had been bait to take, and she hadn’t bitten.
“Sure, Jan,” Amy said in her best Marsha Brady voice, American accent and all.
“How pissed was Simone?” I asked Morgan, changing the subject so abruptly that she blinked at me for a good few seconds before registering what I’d asked.
Then she grimaced.
“That bad?”
“Before you finally sent back that form, she came all the way to the design department to ask if I knew anything. She was on the warpath.”
I sighed as I settled back onto my elbows, folding my ankles in front of me. “Yeah, well, we got there eventually. I do feel bad, though.”
“If you don’t want the job, why don’t you just quit?” Amy asked.
“Because I don’t know if the Gwenynen job will be permanent,” I explained, for what felt like the millionth time. “And if the autumn rolls around and there’s no job for me there, but I’ve burned my bridge with the rescue, I won’t have anything.”
“You can come and work for me,” Amy said, smirking. “I can get you a masonry apprenticeship.”
“Honestly,” I said, holding up one bicep and flexing it, “Teddy’s got me working hard enough that I probably could do it.”
“Of course you could,” Amy said unironically, squeezing my measly muscle affectionately. “You could do anything.”
“But seriously, I feel bad about how angry Simone was,” I said, relieved that I’d dealt with it, but still feeling the tinge of guilt I’d carried since our conversation. Since Teddy had called me out yet again. “I did leave her in the lurch a bit.”
“It’s okay,” Morgan said, nudging me with her shoulder. “We expect nothing less from our chaos queen.”
I felt myself tense, and Morgan felt it, too, turning suddenly to look at me.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean anything bad.”
“No, I know,” I said, and I did know. She meant it affectionately. But it still felt like a barb, probably because there was too much truth to it for my comfort. “But you’re not wrong. It was a chaotic move, and it was selfish.”
“Yeah, but work is work,” Amy said. “I mean, not for me; work is family, which makes it a lot more complicated. But unless you’ve got a job like mine, at the end of the day, it’s just a job. I don’t think you should lose sleep over it.”
As she said it, I realised she was right.
I wasn’t losing sleep over what I’d done to Simone, even if I did feel guilty, because as much as I respected her and appreciated that she’d stuck her neck out for me, it was, in fact, just a job.
A job I didn’t much care for. I cared about having let people down, and I wanted my friends to see that I wasn’t completely oblivious to the impact of my choices, but I didn’t actually feel bad about the job itself.
But Gwenynen wasn’t just a job to me. I cared about the farm, and what we were trying to do, and about the people. About Jen, and Maggie, and, yes, Teddy, too.
“That’s the thing,” I said. “I think this job could be more than just a job for me. And I don’t want my chaos gremlin ways to get in the way.”
“It won’t,” Morgan assured me. “You’re a bit chaotic, sure, but you’re not a flake. When you care about something, you show up. You’re tenacious as hell.”
“Tell me about it,” Amy said. “Remember when Jack moved away all those years ago, and my mum thought I was depressed because I didn’t get into the uni she wanted me to go to?
You came over every single day when I got home until I admitted that I hadn’t actually applied there, and then you told her for me and harboured me at your house until we knew she wasn’t angry anymore. ”
Morgan laughed, clearly hearing this story for the first time. I laughed, too; I did remember. She’d been so scared of Patricia, and it was the least I could do for my surrogate baby sis.
“God,” Amy said, looking across Morgan and me and beyond, “she really is hot, isn’t she.”
I knew before looking that she was talking about Teddy, but when I turned my head and immediately caught Teddy’s gaze with mine, it actually took my breath away.
Her tanned skin was glistening with sweat and spray, her green swimsuit top riding up just enough to show a paler tan line below her breasts.
I couldn’t help but imagine inching the fabric up further, holding myself against her, our breaths syncing as we stood close to one another…
Was it just me, or did she actually bite her lip as she held my gaze? Was she picturing the same thing I was? Remembering what it felt like to touch one another in the heat? A chill ran up my spine, and my back arched involuntarily.
It wasn’t until I heard Morgan tittering next to me that I realised how zoned out I’d been.
I turned to shush her – I did not need Teddy thinking we’d been talking about her – but when I turned back, I saw Jack lever his paddle on the underside of Teddy’s kayak.
I gasped as she hit the water, as if the cold were hitting my skin instead of hers.
* * *
On the increasingly rare days when I got to work from home, I’d expected to be the kind of domestic goddess who made every meal from scratch and went on hot-girl walks in the morning, but in practice I just solidified my future as a prawn, the way I hunched over my computer constantly.
I was supposed to be updating the festival website one day, needing to add some new vendors, but instead I found myself scrolling back through the Gwenynen Hollow Instagram, reading the comments on our most recent posts.
“THIS is a FARMER?” one comment asked under a video of Teddy taking the viewer on a tour of the pollinator-friendly flower garden. “Girls’ night at mine tonight. No clothes required.”
Annoyance flared in my chest, though it was both unwarranted and unwelcome. I watched the video myself, pausing on a frame where Teddy’s tanned skin looked almost bronze in the sunshine. I didn’t blame the commenter, and that was the problem.
My phone pinged in my hand with a message, startling me so badly I nearly dropped it.
LAUREN
A bunch of us are going to the bar tonight. You in?
I stared down at the message and actually considered it for a minute.
The way I’d been thinking about Teddy, maybe I did just need to get laid.
Then we could go back to how things were before; mildly antagonistic, but ultimately productive.
I could go out with Lauren and her friends – by “A bunch of us”, she meant the only other queer people I’d ever met in this godforsaken town, half of whom I’d been on dates with in the past, and almost all of whom Lauren had dated.
And by “the bar”, she meant the only gay bar in the whole county.
Not a lesbian bar, because there wasn’t a big enough queer population to warrant that, apparently.
Then I could go home with Lauren, who, for all her faults, never failed to make me come as many times as I let her, and I could forget all about Teddy … right?
No, unfortunately there was only one queer woman on my mind, and that was the problem.
I did need a distraction, though. So I left Lauren on read, opened the group chat I had with the girls, and typed out a message there.
CHLOE
In desperate need of a girls’ night. These spreadsheets are making me go cross-eyed.
FATIMA
I can host tonight or tomorrow?
MORGAN
I live here, so I guess same? Though tonight works better for me.
AMY
I can make tonight work. Jack’s actually here with Phil tonight, I think for some sort of televised sports ball match?
FATIMA
Ew
AMY
Tell me about it. Though I feel bad ditching Ethel.
CHLOE
Bring her to girls’ night? Lol
AMY
Yes, let me bring my octogenarian grandmother-in-law to girls’ night. She’ll love it.
Actually, she probably would love that. But no, Phil and Anil will both be here, so they can manage, I’m sure.
FATIMA
I love it when a plan comes together