Chapter 15 #2
Yes. This was exactly what I needed. I powered through the rest of my workday, fuelled by the thought of a romcom and a takeaway.
Except, when I walked up to Fatima’s a few hours later, a bursting bag full of Thai takeaway in my arms, I found myself looking at Teddy’s Subaru in the drive.
I mean, I guessed it was Teddy’s? Maybe it was Patricia’s, and Amy was borrowing it? They looked vaguely the same, right?
But when I walked through the front door, my eyes landed immediately on Teddy nestled in a spot at the end of the sofa. My spot. Willow ran past me at full speed, chased by Morgan’s dog, Pablo, who was less than half Willow’s size but clearly a threat in this game of chase.
Teddy raised her hand and opened her mouth as if to say something, but Amy launched herself at me to hug me, and I watched over Amy’s shoulder as Teddy deflated and turned back to Fatima.
Fatima, who sat in the chair looking back and forth between Teddy and me, a smug expression on her face.
“Hey,” Teddy said softly as I placed the takeaway on the coffee table in front of her.
“Hey,” I said back. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Teddy frowned and looked over at Fatima. “Sorry, I thought you were okay with it. I wouldn’t have come otherwise.”
Fatima’s eyes went wide, but she smiled, too, loving what was happening.
I could tell that I’d stressed Teddy out, though, so without thinking about what I was doing, I brought a hand to her bare knee like I would have with any of my friends in an attempt at reassurance.
But the moment my skin touched hers, it was like an electrical current passed between us, and I pulled my hand back again.
When Teddy and the others got distracted by Willow’s noisy attempt to steal Pablo’s ball, I pulled Fatima into the kitchen and turned on her.
“You didn’t mention Teddy was coming,” I said quietly.
“Didn’t I? Must have slipped my mind.” Fatima’s expression was the picture of innocence. “Is that a problem?”
“It’s just … weird, having someone who’s basically my boss at girls’ night.”
“Is she your boss, though? I thought Jen was your boss.”
“Technically, but—”
“So, whats the real problem?” Fatima’s eyes were bright with mischief. “You like her.” She didn’t phrase it as a question.
“No. It’s not like that.”
“If you say so,” Fatima said, clearly not believing me for a second. “Come on, let’s get some food. You carried it all the way here, after all.”
She left me standing in the kitchen, feeling like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
On the one hand, I’d been desperate for a girls’ night so I could stop thinking about Teddy and wouldn’t be tempted to go out with Lauren and her assorted exes.
On the other hand, I was actually, surprisingly – masochistically, even – glad to see her.
The evening settled into easy conversation. We spread blankets on the floor, demolished the food I’d collected, and started what turned into a heated debate about whether The Princess Bride qualified as a “terrible film” for our movie night purposes.
“It hasn’t aged well,” Fatima insisted. “Visually, at least.”
“It’s a classic,” Morgan argued. “By definition, classics can’t be terrible.”
“That’s circular logic,” Amy countered. “Plenty of things become classics despite being objectively terrible.”
“Are you calling The Princess Bride objectively terrible?” Teddy asked, and there was real incredulity in her voice.
“I’m calling the logic flawed,” Amy said. “That particular film is obviously perfect.”
“Thank you,” Morgan said triumphantly.
I found myself relaxing as the conversation continued, the drinks and familiar company working their magic. Teddy seemed different here, too – less guarded, quicker to laugh, more willing to engage in the kinds of silly debates that made up the backbone of our group dynamic.
Amy was right – The Princess Bride was objectively perfect.
We all, Fatima included, recited our favourite lines as they came up, Teddy and Amy having a very fun exchange as Westley and Buttercup when he told her, “Life is pain, Highness.” I could perfectly picture Teddy in the all-black get-up Carey Elwes wore; it wasn’t far off what she’d worn at the Ren Faire where we’d first met.
You could be my Dread Pirate Roberts any day, I found myself thinking.
I tried to banish the thought, but I found it wouldn’t quite dislodge from my brain from that point on, even when she danced around like an idiot acting out Billy Crystal’s part.
Even that was attractive, somehow, seeing her so relaxed around my friends. Our friends, I supposed.
After the film ended, Amy disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a deck of tarot cards and several candles.
“Reading time,” she announced, settling cross-legged on the floor. “Who’s first?”
“I’ll go,” Teddy said unexpectedly. “I’ve never had my cards read before.”
Amy’s face lit up as she lit the candles one by one. “Brilliant. What kind of reading do you want? Love life? Career? General guidance?”
Teddy caught my gaze for a split second, leaving me wondering which part of that question she’d thought was relevant to me.
“Let’s do a situation-obstacle-advice spread,” Amy suggested when Teddy hesitated long enough. “Something broad enough that you can keep the specifics to yourself. Just think of any situation in your life that you want insight into.”
Teddy nodded, and Amy started shuffling, instructing Teddy to tell her when to stop. She laid out three cards in a neat row, the candlelight flickering across the colourful design on the backs. She flipped them one at a time as she talked through them.
“Your situation card is the Five of Swords,” she said, pointing to a card showing figures in what looked like the aftermath of conflict. “This represents hostility, defeat, or unnecessary conflict. You might be caught up in a situation where everyone feels like they’re losing.”
Teddy’s expression was carefully neutral, but I saw her fingers tighten slightly around her glass of water.
“Your obstacle is The Emperor reversed,” Amy continued. “This suggests that your own need for control, your hubris perhaps, might be getting in your way. You might be so focused on being right or maintaining authority that you’re missing opportunities for connection.”
I couldn’t help but continue to watch Teddy, wondering what was going on in her mind. Was this hitting home, or was it making her bristle? I couldn’t quite read her sudden stiffness.
“And your advice card is The Empress,” Amy finished. “She’s about nurturing, abundance, and natural wisdom. The advice here seems to be about changing your approach – you’ll do better with honey than vinegar, as they say.”
Amy seemed pleased with her little joke, smiling to herself, but the silence that followed was heavy with unspoken implications. I could see Teddy processing the reading; could almost watch her connecting the dots to her own situation. Our situation.
“Interesting,” she said finally; flatly. “Thank you.”
“Chloe’s turn,” Fatima said, Amy already shuffling the cards again.
I glared at Fatima for the umpteenth time that evening before settling into position across from Amy, trying to ignore the way Teddy was watching me with newfound intensity. Willow came to nestle in my lap, and I tried to focus on stroking her instead.
Amy shuffled and laid out my three cards in turn when I nodded, flipping them before studying them in the candlelight.
When she looked up, her expression was cautious.
Amy knew me – if she was nervous about interpreting this spread, I was nervous, too.
I could feel my heart speeding up in my chest, and it felt like everyone around me was holding their breath.
“Your situation is the Two of Pentacles reversed,” she said. “This suggests a lack of passion or direction in your life. You might be going through the motions without really feeling connected to what you’re doing.”
That stung, partly because it felt unfair – I’d been more passionate about my work at the farm than anything I’d done in years – and partly because there might be some truth to it.
Wasn’t that how I’d ended up in my current position to begin with?
Maybe this was a lingering energy from before; from why I’d started at Gwenynen to begin with.
“Your obstacle is the Seven of Swords,” Amy continued. “This represents overthinking, self-deception, or getting in your own way through excessive analysis. You might be so busy thinking about what you should feel or do that you’re missing what you actually feel or want.”
I felt heat creep up my neck.
“And your advice…” Amy paused dramatically. “The Tower. This is about sudden change, breakthrough, liberation. The advice here is to stop overthinking and let it burn. Sometimes you have to let the old structures fall down to build something new.”
“Let it burn,” I repeated quietly, the words feeling significant in a way I couldn’t quite name yet.
I looked up and caught Teddy’s eye across the candlelit circle. The light played across her features, highlighting the sharp line of her jaw, the curve of her lips, the intensity in her gaze that made my breath catch.
“I need another drink,” I said abruptly, standing up so quickly that I startled Willow and nearly knocked over one of the candles.
I escaped to the kitchen, where Teddy had left a bottle of the mead as her contribution to the evening.
I poured myself a generous glass and took a large gulp, trying to calm the sudden racing of my heart.
Let it burn. What was that supposed to mean? And why had looking at Teddy in the candlelight made every nerve ending in my body suddenly come alive?
“You okay?”
I spun around to find Teddy herself standing in the doorway, concern written across her features.
“Fine,” I said quickly. “Just needed some air.”
“In the kitchen?”
“Needed some … different air.”
Teddy stepped further into the room, and I found myself backing up until I hit the worktop behind me. She was close enough that I could smell her, the scent of wildflowers on her like always; could see the way the kitchen light caught the gold threads in her hair.
“The reading seemed to hit a nerve,” she said quietly.
“Did it?” I tried to sound casual, but my voice came out slightly breathless.
“The overthinking part, anyway.” There was something almost teasing in her voice, but her eyes were serious. “You may be chaotic, but it’s because you’ve got too much going on up there, not too little.”
She’d noticed that? I shouldn’t have been surprised; I’d noticed a lot, too.
“I’m working on it,” I said, and then, somehow, we were even closer; close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
We reached for the mead bottle at the same moment, and our fingers brushed. The contact sent sparks shooting up my arm, but instead of pulling away this time, our hands lingered, fingers intertwining almost without conscious thought.
I was frozen in place, unable to move, unable to think about anything except the way Teddy was looking at me. Her eyes had gone dark, and I saw her swallow hard, her throat tensing and contracting. The space between us felt charged, like the air before a thunderstorm.
Heat flooded through my entire body. Was I really ready to let it burn…?
“Sorry, just need to—”
Amy’s voice preceded her through the kitchen door, and Teddy and I sprang apart like we’d been electrocuted. I grabbed my glass and held it like a shield, and Teddy suddenly became very interested in examining the labels on Fatima’s spice rack.
“Everything alright in here?” Amy asked, glancing between us with obvious curiosity.
“Perfect,” I said, my voice pitched slightly too high. “Just getting some mead. Teddy was telling me more about this particular batch.”
“Right,” Amy said slowly; disbelievingly. “Well, we’re about to start an episode of Schitt’s Creek, if you want to join us.”
I nodded, then practically fled back to the living room, darting past Teddy, to the sofa, where I curled up on the far end like I was shielding myself, trying to process what had just happened.
Or what had almost happened, anyway, because I was pretty sure I knew what had been about to occur back there.
The places where Teddy’s fingers had touched mine still felt warm, and I couldn’t shake the image of her eyes in the dim light, dark with something that looked a lot like want.
By the time the first episode ended and the next began, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was going to crawl out of my skin.
“I have a headache,” I announced to the room. “Amy, could we head out?”
Amy looked surprised but nodded, already getting up. She’d agreed to drive me back so I didn’t have to walk home alone in the dark. “Of course. Feeling okay?”
“Just tired, I think,” I lied, already reaching for my jacket.
As we said our goodbyes, perhaps a little hastily, I caught Teddy’s eye one last time. For just a moment, her carefully neutral expression slipped, and I could swear I saw disappointment flicker across her features.
But that had to be a trick of the candlelight. Didn’t it?