32. Nellie
THIRTY-TWO
NELLIE
There is something different about Teddy when he gets back. I can’t quite figure out if he wants to be left alone or needs a hug.
“How’d it go?” I ask from the Airstream doorway.
“Good,” he says but doesn’t elaborate.
“Well, that’s good.” I hate how uncomfortable I feel at this moment. This morning at the lake, I swear I could feel things click back into place. It was as if we’d been stretching for days and had finally warmed up.
“Yeah.” He smiles at me but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m going to head back to the bunkie to make a call. I have better service in there.”
“Do you want to take the truck? I can walk back when I’m done.”
“Nah, I need to stretch my legs a bit. Let this guy do the same.” He points to Kevin who is sprawled out under a chair.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you for dinner.”
Teddy nods, gives me one more half smile, then heads down to the trail to Midge’s. His shoulders are slightly hunched, and I could swear by the movement of his head he’s muttering to himself. Or maybe he’s talking to the dog.
“Hey George,” I call out when I see the man heading toward the air pump on the side of the station with a hammer in hand.
He stops and turns towards me. “Yeah?”
“Did anything happen while you were gone?”
George thinks for a minute then shakes his head. “Nope, although that boy was a tad quieter on the way back than he was on the way there.”
“But nothing happened?”
“Not that I can think of. Mind you, I was with Joshua most of the time while he was in the house with Betty.”
“Joshua?”
“Betty’s husband. Had a stroke a couple of months ago so I get up there when I can. People in that situation can feel pretty isolated, and I figure we’re isolated enough as it is way out here.”
“That’s nice of you,” I murmur, my gaze going to the place I’d last seen Teddy, his mood becoming a bit clearer. “Well, I’ll let you get back to…you’re not going to hit someone with a hammer are you?”
“Just the compressor. It acts up now and again. One good smack with this, and it’ll spring back to life for another four months.”
“Well, good luck with that.” I back away before turning just in time to see a car pull in next to the truck. A family of five jumps out, and the kids immediately run to where the books are.
“Jasper, Dustin, and Tabitha, what did we say in the car?” a man I presume is their father shouts.
When none of them answer, the woman who got out of the passenger side raises her voice. “Kidlets, answer your father, or you are getting back into this car and we will drive the three hours back home.” She sounds stern, yet the term kidlets makes her seem less so.
I watch in astonishment as the kids halt, turn, and all say, “Be careful with the books.”
Their mother nods, and they resume their hustle towards the library.
“That was impressive,” I say when I reach them.
“I’m the oldest of six, so three kids is nothing.” The woman laughs. “I’m Donna, and this is my husband Frank.”
“Nellie.” I give a lame wave.
“When we heard that the university picked Marmot Point for their pilot project, I got so excited.”
“She did,” Frank confirms.
“That’s so good to hear.”
“I was worried you’d be farther west. Three hours is about as far as I want to be traveling to get to a library,” Donna says.
“I heard you say three hours, but I assumed you were exaggerating.” I may have driven for sixteen hours to get here, but I can’t imagine traveling three just to go to a library.
“No exaggeration. I applied for the pilot program but lost out to Marmot here.”
“Oh.” I’m suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry. I had no say in where this was happening. I just volunteered to bring the books.”
“Are you a librarian?”
“I am, although here I’m just a book fairy with an advanced degree.”
“Well, whatever you are”—Donna rests her hand on my shoulder—“you have made my whole summer.”
Something warm blooms in my chest. This is the feeling I have been missing while working at the university.
“I’m so glad.” I smile back .
“I better get over there, or they’ll toss the place.” She rolls her eyes, straightens her shoulders, and marches off towards her very well-behaved children.
With the family of five, a handful of Midge’s grandchildren coming by again, and a few middle-aged couples stopping by, the library has been considerably busier today than yesterday. By the time I get everything shut away and back to Midge’s, everyone has already started eating. Except there’s no sign of Teddy. When I don’t find him in the bunkie, I push down the urge to go in search of him and opt instead to join the others for dinner.
“Cold plates tonight,” Midge says when I reach the patio door.
I have no idea what that means so I just nod like I understand. The kitchen island has a spread I’d describe as dorm charcuterie. Or maybe, in this case, kids’ charcuterie. There are lots of vegetables but also recognizable lunch meat rolled up alongside cubes of cheese and pickles. Leftover macaroni and potato salad complete the spread.
“Has Teddy eaten?” I ask before popping a pickled onion in my mouth.
“I haven’t seen him,” Midge says with her head inside the fridge.
“At all?” I put my plate down and walk over to the window above the sink as if he’ll be right outside.
“No, honey, not since he got coffee this morning. Why?”
“He said he was going to walk back and make a call in the bunkie, but he’s not here.”
“I’m sure he’s fine. It’s easy to get lost in these woods, but easy enough to find your way back.” She tugs my arm gently and hands me back my plate. “Sometimes we’ve gotta let people lose themselves for a bit.”
I spend the rest of dinner and my evening with Midge and the kids looking over my shoulder, always expecting to see Teddy approaching with a guilty wave. By the time I crawl into bed, the feelings I’d experienced twelve years earlier are bubbling to the surface. I don’t want to believe he’d disappear again, but I know he’s capable of it. Not just that, he’s good at it. Long after all the noise of the world dies away and the night soundtrack has reached its climax, the bunkie door opens with a slight squeak. I know it’s Teddy just from the sound of his footsteps, but I don’t turn to him or give any indication that I’m awake. I’m too angry. Angry at him for disappearing, even for a short time, and angrier at myself for caring.
“Sit,” I hear him whisper to Kevin followed by the sound of Kevin’s tiny teeth crunching something. Then the unmistakable sounds of clothes coming off and a body sliding between the sheets.
I want to roll over and demand to know where he was so badly, but I hold myself in place, desperately trying to keep my breathing even.
I don’t sleep at all, and at the first sign of morning, I slip out of bed. In the bathroom, which doubles as a change room and is not nearly as scary as I had been warned, I put on my bathing suit and cover back up in my sweatpants and sweatshirt. Then I grab Kevin’s lifejacket and a towel from the truck before grabbing the very sleepy pup from the foot of Teddy’s bed. I’m exhausted, but the minute I hear the loons I can feel the anger I’ve been holding onto start to evaporate.
This lake is warmer than the last one, and it doesn’t take me long to acclimate. Floating on my back while Kevin paddles like mad beside me, I close my eyes and try to just be.
“Hey buddy.” Teddy’s rich voice breaks the silence. My eyes fly open just in time to see Kevin’s front legs trying to cling to Teddy’s bare shoulder. “How long have you been out here?” It takes me a minute to realize he’s asking me and not the dog .
“Ugh, I don’t know. I may have fallen asleep.”
“Real safe, Nellie,” he scolds.
“Says the guy who disappeared yesterday. I see you haven’t lost your touch. Really dealing with things head-on still, I see. Thanks for not waiting over a decade to come back,” I spit, shocking myself with how unfiltered I let myself be.
I’m angry again, on the verge of a tantrum. I slip beneath the water and swim as fast as I can to the shore. Not looking back, I grab my towel, wrap it around myself, and head towards the trail.
“I didn’t disappear,” I hear him shout. “Nellie, I didn’t disappear. I’m here.” I can hear him swimming, but I keep walking. “Nellie, where are you going?” He’s behind me now, his feet pounding on the packed earth.
Where am I going? I whirl around just as he reaches me and nearly smack into his chest. His hands grab my arms to keep me from falling backward. Water drips from his hands down my arms, causing me to shiver, so I step out of his hold.
His hands drop to his side. “Don’t run away from me, Nell. Stay and talk, let me explain.”
“I’m not running, Teddy. I’m walking away from you. Don’t you recognize the gesture? Or did I not do it right?” I seethe. “I’m walking away from you before you can do it to me again. Because I have stupidly let you seep back into here.” I rest my hand over my heart. “Because the thought of you being here and gone again is too fucking much. And I cannot even begin to tell you how much that pisses me off. Also, I was enjoying my morning and then you had to show up, so thanks for that.”
“So tell me,” he pleads as I take another step away.
I spin back. “What?”
He takes a step towards me. “Tell me what pisses you off. Lay it on me. Every single thing you wanted to say to me but didn’t get a chance because I fucked off. Tell me what a coward I was. Tell me I don’t deserve a second chance at any kind of relationship with you. Unleash every single feeling you’ve hidden away because you didn’t want to make a single situation awkward for anyone else.” He takes another step, and he’s so close I can feel the heat radiating off him. It would be so easy to lean in and soak it up. “Break my heart as thoroughly as I broke yours and don’t leave a single piece of it mendable.”
My gaze is fused to the tattoo that I refuse to acknowledge. “You really want to know?” I ask and finally look up to see him nod. “I convinced myself that this”—I gesture between us, cursing when my hand brushes his skin—“was supposed to happen. It was all fate or some shit, and now it feels like a giant reminder that I’m maybe too trusting, too forgiving. Too Nellie from twelve years ago. I could be married right now, did you know that? I could be Nellie Holmes, but I’m not because despite being comfortable in my relationship, he didn’t do a thing for me in here.” I smack my chest. “You broke me, Teddy. You took my heart and cut it off from feeling more for anyone else, and I didn’t even realize it until you came back. You’re fucking selfish.”
I’m watching him the entire time I speak, and I see his heart break as clear as day. The way his forehead crinkles and the lines at the side of his mouth deepen. I watch him swallow as his shoulders begin to curl in ever so slightly. I watch the fight fade from his whole body, and it’s in that moment I have the shocking realization that I don’t want it to. I want to be fought for. Specifically by Teddy.
“Then you come back. Completely out of the blue, poof, there you are, and you had this brilliant, horrible, heartbreaking excuse for leaving. And I hate you so fucking much for that. Because it’s the only reason you could have given me that made any kind of sense for the guy I fell for. You left, and for years I was convinced that I had done something to push you away. Imagine how that would feel, Teddy. If I had done this to you, and then you find out you had absolutely no role in it. You were just a goddamn casualty.”
I stop to catch my breath because if I keep going I’m going to have to grab onto something to keep upright and the closest something happens to be Teddy. His eyes are burning into me, unasked questions fading in and out of focus. I can’t look at him anymore so I turn my gaze toward the trees that seem to stretch into oblivion.
“And the worst part,” I say, calmer now, “the worst part of this entire thing is underneath all this pain is a woman who is so happy you’re here. And I don’t understand it.”
We stand there silently together, my breathing jagged and his calm.
When my breathing returns to normal, and the silence is overwhelming, I finally look back up at him. “Is something wrong with your phone?” He shakes his head again. “You could have sent a text last night. Called. Yelled.”
“I could have, and I should have. I’m s…not going anywhere, Nellie. I was still here.” He spreads his arms indicating he was still in the vicinity. “I had planned to talk to you about it when I got back, I just got back later than I thought I would. It wasn’t intentional.” Not like before , I think.
He tips his head towards the shore, a stupid hopeful little smile appearing on his face. “I brought coffee.”
There is no harm in listening to this, at least I’ll get an explanation right away. “Did you—”
“Bring the maple cookies? Yes,” he confirms.
“Fine.” I grunt and lead the way back to the rocks where I now see a thermos and a little baggy of cookies.
When half my coffee is gone, I ask the question I should have asked yesterday before he had a chance to walk by me. “So what happened? ”
Teddy, to his credit, doesn’t look away from me. He sets his coffee down and looks me straight in the eye. “Betty’s husband—”
“Had a stroke,” I finish for him and watch as his eyes widen. “I asked George about your trip, and he mentioned it.”
He clears his throat and blinks rapidly a few times and I fight against the need to reach for him. “It wasn’t even the stroke or the fact he had similar paralysis as my mom. It was this moment between him and Betty. It was like I was back at the kitchen table with my parents. Despite the fact their reality was far from ideal, they just made it work, for them. They made the life they wanted fit. And…” I watch him swallow and finally look away from me.
“We don’t—”
“No,” he cuts me off. “No, I want to, I need to. I wasn’t running away yesterday, Nellie. I was trying to pull myself back into the present. When I was gone, I spent half of my time grieving my mom and what I had as a son and brother, and the other half grieving us, you.”
I understand the grieving us part, I did it myself and it was hard. I have no idea what I would have done if I’d lost my mom and then discovered what felt like a monumental betrayal.
He takes another deep breath, and I watch a tear escape and track down his cheek. “I know by now I should be over this. I know I should have moved on from this sadness that taints every single relationship I have. I will never be able to make up for what I did to you. There is no erasing the hurt my actions and inaction caused. I should have called you that first day. I should have written you a thousand letters. The shame that consumed me after the grief eased kept me from following through on a single thing when it came to you. You had twelve years stolen because of me. I know I shouldn’t look at you and hope you still see the good guy somewhere inside me. But I do. ”
“I do, even if it’s hard to admit it.” It comes almost as a question, as if I can’t quite believe I’m saying it myself. I may still hold some anger about being left, but I’ve been denying the fact that the guy I fell for is still very much who this man in front of me is. “I see the good guy. I also see a guy who’s struggling to come to terms with the life he left behind. I see a son who desperately misses his mom and his family.” I see the reality of how time doesn’t necessarily heal as fast as we hoped it would. It most certainly doesn’t erase moments we wish we could redo.
I move a little closer, but I still don’t touch him. “I see the boy I was falling for so long ago in the eyes of a man. I see you Teddy, the you from before and from today, and all the versions in between. I see it when you smile, even if you don’t smile as much as before. I hear it in your laugh and when you talk to the dog like he’s going to answer you. I see you, Teddy.” The last words are a whisper, and before I know it I’m rising on my knees and wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
Teddy’s arms encircle my waist, pulling me into him. Head on my chest, trying to control his own emotions. When I went to bed last night the last thing I would have imagined was this scenario. If anything I could have imagined an angry fuck at most, but this feels far more appropriate for friends.
“They’re hugging, Grandma,” a little voice yells from somewhere in the forest.
“Hugging?” Midge replies at the same volume.
“Yeah, but Teddy is shorter than Nellie.”
“Martin Vanderkraats, you march that butt back here right now and forget what you have seen.” Midge’s voice sounds panicked, and I feel Teddy shaking with laughter against me.
Looking down, I watch his gaze meet mine, tears of sadness turning to tears of laughter. “I bet she's going to have to move a certain health lesson up now,” I say before crumbling into him in a fit of giggles. “Feel better?” I ask, pulling back and out of his grasp.
“Much. You?”
“Yes.” I slide back to where I had been sitting before the need to hug him overwhelmed my ability to think straight.
I pick my mug back up and watch as he does the same, although neither of us drinks. His eyes are still on me, and I can’t help my gaze dropping to his lips. Heat pools in my core as I remember what they felt like. What harm would kissing him do? We’re adults; we can kiss and move on like, well, adults. We did that back in December and then carried on. But now we can have conversations, and it doesn’t have to mean anything.
“We should get back before Kevin shivers to death,” Teddy suggests, and the spell I was under breaks.
“Oh god.” I throw back what’s left of my coffee and reach for my bag. “If he dies, Bennett will never let me adopt a dog,” I groan, watching as Teddy stands and tucks Kevin into his zip-up hoodie.
“Relax,” he says, reaching down to pick up the thermos and mugs, “He’s a wiener. He shivers when a warm breeze touches him.”
If anyone saw us on the walk back, we’d look like two friends walking back from a swim at the local watering hole. They’d never guess that I was two seconds away from giving into every primal urge I’ve ever had.