13. Nellie
THIRTEEN
NELLIE
When Teddy said his mom couldn’t speak, I didn't know how to react. Obviously it wasn’t a problem for me, but it hit me just how new we still were. I barely know anything about his family, and he barely knows anything about mine. It isn’t that I need to be in the know this early on, but his mom’s situation seems like a big deal.
In the end, though, I had nothing to worry about. I had a wonderful time meeting his parents, and I looked forward to seeing them again. What was more, I loved the way his parents looked at Teddy throughout the game and when he walked up to us after it. His mom, who had looked happy all evening, practically levitated when he made his way over, clearly the light of her life.
Teddy’s friend manages a drive-in theater near the ballpark, and after a few texts, he gets us in for the second movie which is starting in half an hour. His car is a far better vehicle for a drive-in so I leave mine at the back of the theater lot and hop into his. After he finds a spot, he backs in and pops the trunk before getting out .
“Was all of this just in case?” I ask when I join him and see the blankets and pillows.
“Always be prepared, LG.” He smiles down at me, gesturing for me to climb in. “You get comfortable, and I’m going to go change and grab snacks.” And then as if he can’t keep himself away another second, he draws me in for a kiss that has me sliding rather than climbing into the back on account of my knees turning to Jell-O.
I do a bit of reorganizing so that we have some support yet be able to get good and close. I am trying to figure out what position to wait for him in when he appears around the corner with his arms bursting with stuff.
“Did you leave anything for anyone else?” I laugh, leaning forward to take things from him before he drops them.
“Well, I didn’t know what you liked, and Ed told the concession guy to give me whatever I wanted.”
“You could have asked.”
“Where's the fun in that?” he asks, climbing in next to me. “Besides, I may have been taking advantage of the situation.” He holds up a couple of bags of candy. “If you don’t like any of these things, they are now car snacks.”
“Clever.” I snag the bag of Swedish Berries out of his grasp. “I do happen to love these, though.”
His gaze drops to my lips, a sly grin appearing on his lips. “Excellent.”
“What’s that look for?” I ask, popping a candy into my mouth.
His smile grows and he leans into me, his hand going to the back of my neck as he draws me closer. “I also happen to love Swedish Berries.”
I only get out a small “oh” before his lips meet mine.
We spend most of the movie making out because both of us seem far more interested in each other’s lips and bodies than tornadoes full of sharks. We only come up for air when we need to hydrate or freshen up our Swedish Berry breath. By the time the credits roll, I feel high on sugar and Teddy.
“It’s late,” I say, holding his wrist up so I can check his watch.
“It is,” he replies, his hand pushing escaped pieces of hair behind my right ear.
“Don’t you have to work in the morning?”
“Nope.” He grins back at me. “I’ve got tomorrow and Sunday off. What time do you work?”
I shrug. I’m helping my dad with some pre-trip prep at the raptor center, but that’s it. “Probably eleven.”
“Hours and hours away,” he says quietly, pulling me back to him.
“Sleep is very overrated.”
An hour later, I manage to extract myself from his car and drive home, a stupid smile plastered on my face.
“Nellie?” I hear my name whispered from the living room when I walk into the house.
“Hey Mom,” I say, walking in to find her curled up in the big armchair with the lamp on and a book open on her lap. “You didn’t have to wait up for me.”
She tips her head and smiles at me. “I know, but I always will.” She stretches and closes her book, the page she was on folded over causing an involuntary shudder to run through me. “So when do we get to meet him?”
“Meet who?” I ask coyly.
Mom gives me that look she had mastered long before I came to be.
“Ooooh, Teddy. Well, maybe after your trip? He’s got a busy schedule.”
She walks over to me and puts her arm around my waist to pull me into her side. “Better yet, how about I stay home, and we can invite this Teddy for dinner? Your father doesn’t need me.”
I look down at her and smile sweetly. “I think that would be a terrible idea.”
She laughs, squeezing me tighter. “Your sister was far easier to convince than you are.”
“Maybe I’ve just learned what not to do from Sylvia. Besides, Caleb worked for Dad. We all knew him long before they fell into each other. Actually, I’m not entirely sure Dad didn’t push her into him.” My mom is looking at me skeptically. “No, really, you weren’t there. I don’t see how she tripped. He pushed her.”
“‘Pushed’ seems awfully aggressive. Maybe he nudged her.”
“Oh my god, he did!” I gasp.
She shrugs. “Remember, I wasn’t there. I just can’t see your dad pushing anyone, let alone his firstborn.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on this.”
“I’m okay with that. Now go to bed, young lady. There’s lots to do tomorrow before we leave.” She lets go of me and heads for the stairs. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about meeting Teddy. Within the next month, you’re going to invite the guy who keeps you out until the wee hours over for dinner.”
“Deal,” I say before she disappears from view.
In the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of water and pull my phone out to text Teddy, only to find one waiting for me.
Enviro Guy
I think Swedish Berries are forever ruined for me.
Oh no! Did you overdo it tonight?
Possibly…
Just thinking about them turns me on now .
I cough as water enters my windpipe and stare down at his words. I begin to answer, then stop only to repeat those steps.
I made things weird, didn’t I? Is it too late to unsend? Can you pretend you never read that?
Depends, is it the berries that do it or the thought of me?
I can see him typing and then stopping, clearly struggling with finding the right words.
It’s always you.
It’s always you. Never have three words caused all the oxygen to leave my body before now.
Too forward?
No, just the right amount. Night, EG xx
Night, LG
Teddy and I follow the same kind of schedule for the next month. We both get even busier with work but always find a way to see one another no fewer than four times a week, which never feels like enough.
“Six weeks,” he says, after kissing me hello outside the raptor center one evening.
I quickly do some mental calculations. “You’re right, although it feels like longer.” I can tell he isn’t sure if I mean that in a good or bad way. “In a good way,” I add, kissing him for a bit longer this time.
We’re still taking things slowly. I’d slept with my ex by six weeks, multiple times. But there is just something about Teddy that makes me want to savor the build-up to that moment. I don’t want to rush a thing. At least my heart and mind are on the same page. It turns out that my body is very impatient.
“You must be Teddy.” My mom’s voice has me jumping back and stepping in front of him defensively. I have no idea why this is my reaction, she’s harmless. “Or at least I hope you are.”
My mom ignores my stance, passing right by me and pulling Teddy in for a hug. He’s about a foot taller than her and smiles brightly at me over her head. At least one of us is chill.
“What are you doing here, Mom?” I stammer.
“Your father left his reading glasses on his desk.” She rolls her eyes.
I narrow mine. “Dad has like thirteen pairs of reading glasses. And at least two in his car.” I know this because every time he loses a pair he buys another at the drugstore and inevitably finds his old pair within fifteen minutes of making the purchase.
As if on cue, I hear my dad yell. “I found them, ducky,” he calls from beside the car where he’s standing, waving a pair of glasses above his head.
“Oh, well, would you look at that?” Mom says innocently. “Although, now that we’re all together, how would you like to go get some dinner with us? That way we can get to know Teddy here.”
I immediately try to think of an excuse why we can’t do that while Teddy says, “That would be great.”
She clasps her hands and beams. “Wonderful. Why don’t you two finish up whatever it is you were doing, and we’ll head to Norm’s. Do you like gastropub food, Teddy?” Mom asks, looking concerned.
“I love all food, Mrs. Woodcroft.”
“Oh no, please call me Jean,” she insists .
Teddy nods. “We’ll see you in a bit, Jean.”
I watch as my mom practically skips back to the car. Both my parents wave as they drive away, and I release the groan I’ve been holding in since I heard her voice.
“I’m so sorry about that,” I say, taking Teddy’s hand and leading him into the center. “My dad said he was leaving early today, and I guess I was a bit too enthusiastic about it. He’s usually not that perceptive.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’ve wanted to meet your parents.”
“Why?” I laugh, looking back at him.
He pulls me back to him and wraps his arms around me. “Why wouldn’t I want to meet your parents? They made you.”
I stare up at him, waiting for a punchline that doesn’t come. “Can I see your ID?”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t believe you’re only twenty-two. What twenty-two-year-old says things like that?”
He shrugs, dropping his arms and taking my hand again. “What can I say, I’m an old soul. Now I want to go meet Mr. Fitzgibbons, the man I’m in competition with.” Teddy begins pulling me in the wrong direction, and I stand my ground, halting his progress.
When he looks back at me I point towards the opposite side of the room. “The feathered love of my life is that way.”
At nine weeks, Teddy’s parents have shown up at five more games, and I swear he plays better than ever when they’re there. His smiles were as much for me as they were for his parents, particularly his mom.
During the few hours I’d spent with Teddy’s mom and dad, I’d seen bits of Teddy in each of them. He has his mom’s eyes and wavy dark hair while his laugh and height are all his dad’s. At the third game, his mom took my hand and held it for most of the game, squeezing when she needed to cheer so I’d cheer a bit harder for both of us. That night, she’d touched my cheek when they said goodbye, and Teddy blushed from his nose to his ears. When I asked what it meant later, he had just kissed me followed by a murmured thank-you. I didn’t understand what he was thanking me for, but I didn’t want to stop kissing him to ask.
I’m still riding the high of his post-game kisses the next morning while helping my dad prepare for another quick work trip when I start to feel a bit off. My mom asks quietly if I’m pregnant. Unless you can be impregnated by aggressive over-the-clothes action, there is no possible way that I could be. Still, she insists that she is more than happy to stay home with me, the perfect excuse for not going on another bird-related trip. I know she’ll have a good time, though. She’s never been good with the buildup of things, so I push her out the door, insisting I will be fine.
By nine a.m. Saturday morning, I’m curled up next to the toilet after texting my boss to let her know I won’t be making it in today. I feel bad as it’s pouring, which means the library will likely be busy with parents trying to occupy their kids. Just thinking of the energy it takes to deal with children all day has me retching.
Around noon, I get myself down to the couch with the designated puke bowl from my childhood, a sleeve of saltines, and a bottle of some electrolyte drink my mom keeps on hand for heavy workout days.
Enviro Guy
Game is canceled tonight, want to do an early dinner?
I look at Teddy’s message and immediately feel my stomach flip. Something it always does when I see a text from him, but this was definitely more to do with the thought of dinner than the guy I was falling for.
Can’t. I’m sick.
Oh no! Want me to come over?
No! I’m probably contagious. I’m just going to slowly die on the couch while watching a British period drama.
An hour later, there is still no reply from Teddy. Thirty minutes after that, there’s a knock at the door. I lay there glaring through the house, willing the person to go away. There’s another knock before I hear it open. If I had any energy at all I would be running to the kitchen and grabbing a knife, but instead, I lay there, accepting that I was about to be killed, robbed, or both. And then Teddy walks around the corner.
“What are you doing here?” I screech, horrified that he is seeing me decked out in sick girl couture.
“You’re sick.” He shrugs, walking towards me holding a large canvas bag.
“I know, that’s why I told you not to come over,” I mumble.
“Why? Because you didn’t want me to see you sick? You still look hot, for the record.”
I roll my eyes and sit up a bit. “No, doofus, because I don’t want to get you sick!”
He shrugs again. “I have the immune system of a bat. ”
I stare at him. “I don’t know what that means. Do bats have good immune systems?”
“One of the best,” he says, plopping down next to me. “I brought you sustenance.” He puts the bag down and begins pulling things out. A heating pad, Gravol, ginger ale, tissues, crackers, a loaf of bread, the book he’d bought with me, a container of some kind of liquid, and a box of tea bags.
“You didn’t even know what was wrong with me. What if I just had a headache?”
“You said you were contagious.”
“Right, I did say that.” I give him a small smile. “What’s that?” I point at the container with the mystery liquid.
“Soup.”
“Did you make it?”
“Not this one. This is one of Zoe’s creations.” He picks it up and tips it back and forth. “Don’t tell her I told you, but she is the better soup maker between the two of us.”
“Do you cook a lot?” I ask, sitting up more before thinking better of it.
“A couple times a week. After Mom’s aneurysm, we all picked up the things she did the most. Dad and Will did most of the cooking until Zoe and I could be fully trusted alone in the kitchen. Although to be honest, we are rarely alone. Mom loved… loves cooking so she’s often in there with us, overseeing things.”
“I hate what you’ve all been through, especially your mom, but it’s pretty great how you all stepped in.”
“That’s what family does. You face an issue head-on, you don’t run from it.”
“Is this you facing an issue head-on?” I gesture at the pile of stuff on the coffee table.
“It is.”
It still feels like my insides were thrown into a blender and then poured back into my body, but the way he looks at me, even when I’m several shades too green, does make things a bit better.
“So.” He gestures at the things he’s unpacked. “Can I get you anything right now?”
I survey the items again and feel the bile rise the minute my eyes land on the soup. “Maybe just the Gravol for now. I don’t think I could keep anything else down.” He nods and pops a couple out of the package, handing them to me.
“These will probably knock you out, but at least you won’t be throwing up.”
“One of those things is definitely better,” I murmur after I swallow the pills and snuggle back into my pillow.
“This that British drama you were talking about?” Teddy asks, sitting back and nodding towards the TV.
“Yes, but we can watch something else.”
He throws his hands up, “I would never dream of inviting myself over and then making you watch something else. Just give me the Coles Notes of what’s going on so I’m not totally lost.”
“Okay, so it basically all takes place at this estate in the English countryside, and there are usually two main storylines. One with the owners and one with the staff. Very upstairs-downstairs stuff. The family is the parents, their three daughters, and the dad’s mother. But his heir died, and so they had to find someone else in the line.”
“Wait, the heir died? But he has three other kids.”
“Apparently in the early 1900s, women couldn’t be the heir.”
“Typical.” Teddy rolls his eyes. “Sorry, continue.”
“They end up finding this guy who is a lawyer, and so he and his mom show up and it’s all snobby upper-class vs self- righteous middle-class people being dramatic. This is the first season. I think you’ll catch on pretty quickly.”
“Oh, you’ve already seen it?” I hold up three fingers. “You’ve seen it three times?” he asks, eyes wide.
“It’s my comfort show. I watch when I’m sick, which isn’t often, or I’m homesick or just want something familiar.”
“Huh, I don’t think I have a show like that. I don’t think I have anything like that, actually.”
“Well, I will happily share this one,” I assure him before restarting the episode.
“You don’t need to restart it,” Teddy says as if I’ve offered to donate a kidney.
“I was only fifteen minutes in. Trust me, EG, rewatching any part of this show is not a hardship for me.”
Teddy manages to get right into it, and halfway through our second episode he’s formed opinions about every character.
“I do not like the direction this relationship is going with the valet and that maid.” “I feel so bad for the blonde sister; she’s basically an outcast in every way. Do you think they cast her because she looks nothing like the others?” “Grandma is hands down the best character on this show. She dies in the next episode, doesn’t she? Wait, don’t tell me.” “I would not mind cooking in that kitchen. Imagine having that much counter space.”
I’ve never watched with someone else, and I am enjoying the commentary, especially on things that play out over several seasons. I’m asleep by the third episode and wake to the sound of heavy rain. Teddy is sitting at the end of the couch, ankle crossed over his knee, with a book in hand. I don’t say anything for a couple of minutes, soaking up the view of a hot guy reading.
“How are you feeling?” he asks without looking away from his page .
“Marginally better than I did earlier.”
“Better enough to try some soup?”
I think for a moment, and when the idea of eating soup doesn't make me gag, I nod. “Would you mind putting it in a mug? They’re in the narrow cabinet next to the fridge.”
He comes back with two mugs, spoons sticking out of both. “You could have used a bowl for yourself,” I say when he hands a mug to me.
“Careful, it’s hot. I happen to prefer soup in a mug. Well, broth-based soups anyway. There is something about cream soup in a mug that just doesn’t work for me.”
“No, I get that. Something about the viscosity of it.” We both make a face and laugh. “Thank you for coming. I just really hope you don’t end up in the same situation.”
“Me too, but of all the people who could get me sick, I’d be least upset if it was you.” He would say the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard when I have a fever and may actually be hallucinating.