Teddy
MARCH
Indie’s leg bounces next to me as we wait outside the conference room, unable to sit still. Her fingers tangle together in front of her in her lap, and she’s been chewing at her lip anxiously in a way that makes me want to reach over and pull it free. So I do, which makes her look at me.
I place my hand over her knee, gently squeezing, and her leg calms beneath my palm.
She glances at me, her eyes lingering on the cuts along my cheek and temple.
Her brow pinches together unhappily the same way it has every time she looks at them, even though I’ve assured her a thousand times by now that I’m fine.
Because I am.
After this morning with Indie, and a quick call to Dr. Meyer, I am fine.
Dunk is inside the room being interviewed now. He walked in this morning with a box of paperwork and a fresh-pressed suit and tie. He looked ready for war, and when I mentioned that to him, he smiled ferally. That smile gentled, though, when he looked at Indie and shook her hand.
“Lovely to finally meet you in person, Dr. Miller,” he said, holding her hand between both of his. “You are as radiant as Theodore here described.”
Indie looked at me, and I winked, which made her smile. Good. I want to keep that expression on her face.
Last night, when I got back to the hotel, she was still asleep. I wasn’t too surprised. Yesterday took a lot out of her, between flying in the night before, barely sleeping, and sitting through a questioning that stripped her down to her bones.
I slid into bed behind her, careful not to wake her, but she flipped over almost immediately, searching for me even in sleep. She tucked herself into my chest with a small sigh, her cheek pressed over my heart, and the peace I felt after leaving my mother only multiplied with Indie in my arms.
Then I woke to Indie’s sharp gasp.
My eyes snapped open, already reaching for her, worried she was hurt or having a nightmare, only to find her staring at my face in horror. Her hands hovered over my cheek before she gently traced the cuts along my skin.
That worry lasted about three seconds before her eyes blazed with murderous rage.
“Do no harm, baby!” I yelled, grabbing her around the waist before she could unlock the hotel door. “Do no harm!”
“I’ll make an exception for your mother!” Indie snarled viciously, and fuck if the furious look on her face didn’t make my cock twitch. “What did she do? Did she hit you? I’ll fucking—”
Sex was a good distraction. A very good distraction. Letting Indie ride me hard to get her anger out was a morning well spent, in my opinion, because for a little while she forgot about everything but us.
“Everything is going to be fine, baby,” I whisper to Indie, soothing her worries. Her brow softens, slightly.
“You sound sure.”
“I’m positive.”
“How can you be so sure?”
I wink, and it makes her smile.
Good.
The door opens, and Dunk exits the conference room. Indie and I stand immediately, walking toward him as he adjusts his suit jacket. The box he carried in is gone, and I assume the committee is looking through it now.
My sisters texted earlier that they called in and gave their statements. Phoebe called Indie to let her know that she, “Let them hear it. Especially Dinkus.”
Indie almost smiled at that.
“They don’t have shit,” Dunk mutters as I shake his hand. Indie lets out a shaky breath, and he gives her a small smile. He then taps his watch and gives me a pointed look, “Tick-tock.”
I nod in understanding, and as if on cue, we hear the click of heels on linoleum.
All of us turn to see Dawn walking down the hallway, looking very different from the woman I left last night.
Sober, firstly. Or at least sober enough to perform.
Her makeup is done, covering the dark circles beneath her eyes and smoothing the lines of rage my words brought out last night.
Her hair is perfectly coiffed, not one strand out of place, and she’s wearing one of her yellow floral dresses.
The one she always saved for special occasions because of how expensive it was.
She used to brag about that dress to her friends, showing it off as if it were a token of her husband’s love.
It feels like a message.
It’s a mistake.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
Her nose is firmly in the air as she walks toward us.
Indie tenses beside me, and I feel her eyes on my face, bracing to see how I’ll react.
I wonder if she’s scared, even now, that I’ll become the Teddy I used to be when my mother walked into a room.
The thought makes my chest ache. I don’t blame her.
I set a precedent, it’s my job now to fix it.
So I lift my Indie’s hand to my mouth and press a kiss there. I see her body relax, her shoulders dropping, her jaw unclenching, and she smiles at me.
Dawn’s eyes track that movement and narrow in irritation.
Then, with perfection made through repetition, her face transforms into concern.
“Theodore,” she coos, tutting in concern and taking a step toward me. “Oh, what happened to your face?”
I step back, pulling Indie a little more behind me. My eyes track up to the security camera in the corner, and satisfaction blooms in my mind.
From behind her, Dunk shakes his head once, firmly—do not speak to her. Not yet.
Turning away from her, I pull Indie back to our seats. “Theodore, why are you ignoring me? I’m your mother.”
I act like I didn’t even hear her as Indie and I sit. Leaning forward, I press a long kiss to her forehead.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you too, honey,” I whisper, leaning closer to press my forehead against hers. “Just a little longer.”
She nods in understanding.
“Dunk,” Dawn says, as though noticing him for the first time. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, Dawn,” Dunk chuckles. “You know what my favorite thing about my job is, Dawn?”
“Oh, I think you’re going to tell me,” Dawn says, her voice tight and shrill.
“Checks and balances,” he says pleasantly. “I love making sure everything is fair and square. Especially when people try to tip the scales because of greed.”
Dawn hums, letting the words roll right off her.
“Well, there are some things that need to be rebalanced because of certain greedy interlopers,” she says, saccharine sweet. “Shame that in your old age, you allowed my mother to give away my children’s rightful inheritance.”
“It was what your mother wanted, Dawn,” Dunk says, his voice sharp as a whip.
“I know it’s uncomfortable for you to think of anyone but yourself, but it is my job to honor her wishes.
Your mother was adamant that you were secure with your husband.
That he would always take care of you. That was why you stayed home to take care of the children, wasn’t it? ”
Dawn’s face looks like cracked porcelain as she smiles at Dunk, but her eyes can’t lie. She’s enraged.
And distracted.
Because she doesn’t see the two uniformed officers walking up behind her. Indie inhales sharply when they pass us. Officer Sherry Dash, the officer I spoke to last night, gives me a small nod as she and her partner move down the hallway.
“My mother was a demented fool,” Dawn hisses, but not quietly enough. “Easily tricked by the people she trusted to care for her, and you—”
“Dawn Williams?”
“What?” she snaps, turning to face the officers.
Officer Dash keeps her expression level. “Dawn Williams, you are under arrest for battery related to the incident involving Theodore Williams last night. Please turn around and place your hands behind your back.”
Dawn blinks, looking around as if this is one big joke, before she starts laughing.
“This… is absurd.”
“Based on documented injuries and an official complaint filed, it is not,” Officer Dash says.
Dawn’s laughter dies off, as she looks back and forth between the officers. Then she looks right at me, beseeching.
“Theodore, tell them!”
Last night, on the ride back to the hotel, I called Dunk and told him what happened.
Nana used to say that things just work out sometimes. That if it’s meant to be, it will be. And while last night didn’t go as planned, it was probably the best thing that could have happened.
“Do not go to the hotel,” Dunk said when I finished explaining. His voice was severe enough to cut right through my shock. “Go directly to the police station, Theodore. You have visible injuries. You need to report this.”
“But it’s just a couple of scratches,” I said, and even to my own ears, the protest sounded weak.
Old habits die hard, I guess. Not defending my mother, there’s no defense left in her for my body, but minimizing my own pain because I’ve been conditioned to. Dr. Meyer would be proud of me for recognizing it, at least.
My mother never put her hands on me; she never had to, but this was the first time she ever directly harmed me physically.
“And if that bottle had been a few inches closer, it could have hit your head,” Dunk growled, then softened. “Theodore, your mother assaulted you. You need to report her.”
I glanced at the rideshare driver and cleared my throat.
“Can you take me to the nearest police station instead?”
“Yeah,” the man said, flipping on his turn signal. “I was hoping you’d ask. There are napkins in the console. Try not to bleed all over my seats, cool?”
“I did tell them,” I say to my mother. “After you threw a wine bottle at me and cut my face open. I told them everything.”
Dawn blanches and she tries to wiggle out of the officer’s grip.
She realizes that there isn’t a lie she can spew to get her out of this. She can’t charm her way out. She can’t cry her way out. She can’t smile, buy, or scheme her way out. She’s in over her head, and I see the exact moment she realizes it.
Her eyes dart from me, to Indie, to Dunk, to the officers, to the conference room doors where Dr. Vale, Dr. Halloran, and Dr. Minkus watch the scene with varying shades of shock.
“This is her fault!” Dawn snarls, twisting toward Indie. “That whore took my son away from me!”
Indie flinches, and I place my body between them even more, shielding Indie from my mother completely.
“You don’t ever speak to Indie ever again,” I snarl quietly. “And you’re less than dead to me—you don’t exist anymore.”
Dawn’s face twists into something ugly. Officer Dash reaches for her arm.
“Turn around, Mrs. Williams.”
She jerks away and in the struggle, ends up elbowing Officer Jones in his face.
Everything changes in that instant. Officer Dash grabs her other arm—hard enough to make my mother shriek.
“You just assaulted an officer,” Officer Dash says sharply. “Stop resisting.”
“You little cunt! You did this!” she screams, her voice echoing down the hallway. “She took him from me! How could you do this to me, Theo? How could you let her take you from me?”
I wrap my arm around Indie, and she burrows into my chest, shaking. Not an act, she’s shaking, and I know why. Because this is the first time she’s seen my mother as she is—cruel and ugly and monstrous.
I guess I always suspected that she was a monster buried beneath the polished veneer and it was that fear that kept me obedient all this time.
And now I see her, and realize she’s not scary.
She’s nothing.
I watch as Officer Dash cuffs my mother and begins leading her down the hallway. Hospital workers pause to stare. Some peek out of offices. Others slow their steps as they pass, drawn in by the racket.
Dawn Williams spent her entire life caring about getting attention.
Well, she has it now.
That, in itself, feels like justice.
Lorraine walks back down the hallway with Phoebe at her side. Both women look between Dawn, the officers, the board members, Dunk, Indie, and me.
Phoebe raises a brow. “What’d we miss?”
Dr. Halloran just shakes her head, exasperated. Dr. Minkus looks positively horrified. Dr. Vale blinks once, then gathers herself together in a flash.
“Mr. Williams,” Dr. Vale says. “If you’re prepared, we’re ready for your statement.”
When I glance down at Indie, her eyes are a little wet, and her smile shakes, but it’s there. My brave Indie. Her hand tightens in mine and I press a kiss to her cheek.
Then I stand tall and smile at the doctors.
“I’m ready.”