12. Teddy #3
The gentle observation from her youngest sister reverberated loudest in the dusk.
Her youngest sister had noted that Teddy demanded to be included while constantly pushing people away.
Sitting on the porch swing, Teddy acknowledged the undeniable truth of that claim.
She'd navigated her youthful years establishing unstated rules and invisible expectations for the people around her.
When they failed to read her mind or hesitated to cross the rigid boundaries she'd built, she interpreted their politeness as dismissal, using their perceived failure as proof that she'd stood destined to remain outside the circle.
She'd done the exact same thing with Kent.
When he offered his steady assistance, she'd treated his help with suspicion.
When he maintained his boundaries after she rejected him, she'd viewed his professional distance as abandonment.
She'd watched him interact with Cecilia, convincing herself that he'd sought company elsewhere, when in truth, he'd simply honored the exact boundary she'd insisted on.
He hadn't replaced her or turned away out of malice; he'd merely refused to break down a door she kept deadbolted from within. He'd shown her unwavering patience and steady respect. Teddy was a fool. A fool who still didn’t know how she was going to repair that relationship. It seemed a bit ironic that the sister who was so good at repairing things, couldn’t even repair a relationship.
Teddy rested her chin against her knees, watching the evening star emerge above the western tree line.
Portland had never been a true destination or a dream of professional ambition.
It'd acted as an escape hatch from the disaster of her marriage. Maine was close enough to her family’s farm, but still far enough away to be a convenient crutch.
Whenever a conversation became difficult or a relationship required vulnerability, she'd reminded everyone that she'd be departing at the end of November. Dahlia was right. If she kept one foot out the door, it wouldn’t matter if she felt like an outsider because she was leaving anyway.
She'd used Maine as part of her armor, shielding herself from the terrifying prospect of building a life that could be broken.
A soft creak of the screen door signaled her oldest sister's approach.
Dahlia came onto the porch deck holding two heavy stoneware mugs, the steam rising in delicate curls against the autumn night air.
Her sister offered no dramatic speech or heated explanation.
She simply sat next to Teddy on the porch swing, handing her one of the warm mugs.
"The cider is fresh from the final press," her sister remarked, while she surveyed the darkened pumpkin fields.
“Thanks,” Teddy said, accepting the mug. The heat seeped into her skin, a welcome comfort. “Don’t you need to be getting back home?”
“No, I told Beckett, I’d be home later. I wanted to spend some time with my sisters. This time of year is always so busy. It feels like there’s not enough time to properly connect.”
Teddy held the stoneware against her chest, drawing a slow, steady respiration to ease her throat. "I'm not leaving at the end of November."
Dahlia grinned. “So you went from wanting to leave right this minute, to not leaving at all?” Her expression turned serious in the dim light spilling from the kitchen window.
“You're not under any obligation to stay if you don’t want to, Teddy. We want you here. But if Maine is really where you feel you belong, we won’t stop you.
We love you. We just want you to be happy. "
"I’m not staying out of obligation," Teddy answered, her tone holding a serene conviction that surprised her own heart.
"I've spent most of the autumn season pretending that my place on this farm was just a temporary assignment, before I could resume my real life.
But my real life is right here. I want to remain through Thanksgiving.
I want to finish the harvest season beside all three of you. "
Her sister turned her head sideways, her dark eyes reflecting the starlight as a genuine, unhurried smile touched her lips. She reached out, resting her hand over the knuckles where Teddy gripped the mug. "We've wanted you here the entire time."
The simple statement settled into her chest with a profound, soothing warmth.
The suffocating tightness that'd constricted her ribs since the harvest dance began to dissolve, superseded by a serene sense of calm.
She didn't need to secure her place on this farm through relentless physical labor.
She already belonged home, rooted in the soil she'd tried so hard to leave behind.
After her sister said goodnight and started walking in the direction of the house she now shared with her husband, Beckett, Teddy remained on the porch for a long while.
She turned toward the narrow unpaved lane that led toward Hannah’s cottage, and Kent’s property beyond that.
The distance separating her from the veterinarian no longer felt like a canyon built of secrets; it was merely a path that required her to make the initial move.
She understood that required risk, and that staying meant allowing herself to be seen without her armor.
And if this autumn season had taught her anything, it was that Kent was worth the risk.