5. Teddy #2
Teddy stared at her sisters, her chest tightening as the familiar feeling of isolation settled over her.
They were praising her competence, celebrating her professional mastery, but their words carried a convenient dismissal.
In their minds, her capability was a license to leave her completely alone.
They'd set her up in her own little restoration corner, assuming that because she was strong and self-sufficient, she didn't require any assistance or company. She didn’t want to be managed, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want any help.
"I can't lift twelve-foot white oak timbers on my own," Teddy countered. "Restoring a timber frame isn't a one-person job. It requires a crew to raise the posts and secure the joints."
"We understand that," Dahlia replied, her focus already drifting back toward the tablet on the table.
"And maybe we can get some help for you after the rush.
But the opening weekend is only days away, and the digital systems still need to be synchronized with our new cash registers.
Prue only comes back tomorrow. We have to coordinate the traffic, manage the inventory, and train the temporary staff.
We simply don't have the hours to assist in the barn at the moment. "
"And the farm stand accounts require a full audit before the first crate is sold," Junie noted, her hand returning to the wooden spoon.
"I have to ensure the inventory matches the digital manifests. But we know you'll manage the repairs beautifully. You're the strongest one out of the three of us. There’s nothing you can’t do. You’re our Terrific Teddy. "
The sweet praise left a dry, chalky taste in Teddy's mouth, carrying the familiar sting of the pattern she had accommodated since she'd been small.
She'd spent her youth acting as the anchor who just got on with chores without being asked. Somebody had to do the physical labor after their dad passed away. Teddy had only been thirteen when he’d died, but ever since then, she had been the one chopping firewood and stacking the split birch, mending fences, clearing fallen branches in the orchard, shoveling snow. And all without prompting.
After her tearful phone call with her sisters, she had worried that they would see her as broken.
Now, witnessing the gentle exclusion in their eyes, she understood that they didn't see her failed marriage, her secret divorce, or the crippling despair she'd carried in Portland at all.
It was back to business as usual. They still only saw the unyielding column, the self-sufficient, adaptable daughter who could handle any storm without asking for a hand. Terrific Teddy.
"I don't want a perfect division of labor," Teddy said, her tone cooling as she rolled the grid paper back into a tight cylinder. "I don't want to be tucked away repairing the barn while you manage the real work of this farm."
"Wait, I’m confused. Nobody's trying to exclude you," Dahlia countered, her eyebrows rising with a sudden defensiveness. "We're trying to give you the space to work in your own way, just as you insisted yesterday in this kitchen. I thought this was what you wanted."
"There's a difference between giving someone space and leaving them completely alone to carry the heaviest beams," Teddy replied, unable to hide the frustration in her voice. "I told you I didn’t want to be managed, but that doesn’t mean I want to be left on my own to get things fixed, as usual. Capable Teddy will manage just fine on her own,” she mimicked, before shaking her head.
“It's just a way to keep your hands clean while I do the heavy lifting. "
She turned from the table, refusing to look at the sudden hurt on Junie's face or the rigid stillness of Dahlia's shoulders.
Teddy knew she was being unfair, especially considering how hard Junie had worked for years with their mother to keep the farm running when the rest of them left, but she was hurt.
"I'll be in the barn," Teddy added, as she headed out before she said anything more that she’d end up regretting. "Don't worry about the logistics. I guess I’ll manage the rot on my own."
She exited the kitchen, the outer screen latch closing with a muted click, leaving her speechless sisters in the stillness.
The dry dust of the barn rafters filtered down through the shafts of morning light, hanging like golden mist in the quiet spaces of the cider barn.
Teddy stood alone beside the eastern wall, her fingers gently tracing the grain of the heavy cedar support timber.
Her shoulders ached under the weight of her denim shirt, and the muscles of her arms burned from her stubborn labor.
The timber lay dead and heavy across a pair of pine sawhorses, its rough surface scarred by exposure.
She'd refused to let her sisters' easy dismissal stop her from fixing the cider barn; instead, she'd resolved to clear the decaying timber plate before the afternoon sun could slide behind the orchard trees.
She braced her shoulder beneath the end of the twelve-foot beam, her jaw tensing as she gathered her remaining strength.
She tensed her legs, her chest tightening under a sudden pressure as she tried to lift the massive column.
The cedar didn't budge, its dead weight resting against her shoulder with an unyielding indifference that made her lungs burn.
She tensed her muscles again, her knuckles turning white as she strained against the stubborn timber.
She'd spent her entire life proving she'd been the one who could carry the heavy trusses and stabilize the sagging foundations without ever uttering a single complaint.
Physically, Teddy had always been strong.
But standing in the dusty dimness of the barn, she felt the cold reality of her absolute limits pressing down like a physical weight.