Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
Teddy
We take turns in the bathroom, cleaning ourselves up and getting dressed, before working together to strip the bed.
Without speaking, Helen tosses me a pillow and grabs her own.
We pull off the pillowcases in unison, then tackle the sheets and comforter.
If there were an Olympic category for synchronized sheet-changing, we’d take the gold.
I gather the linens into my arms, the pile stacked so high I can barely see over it, and follow her into the laundry room.
She rises on her toes, swaying as she searches through the cabinets above the washing machine. The motion pulls up her shirt, just enough to reveal a strip of bare skin, warm and smooth, and my fingers twitch with the urge to touch her there. To touch her everywhere.
“Darn,” Helen says after a moment, still peering into the cabinet. “No detergent. My mom keeps extras upstairs.” She glances over her shoulder. “Hang tight, okay?”
I nod, still not looking her in the eye. I can’t believe we did that. Can’t believe she wanted to. I should’ve said no, but once I heard that pleading in her voice, how it dropped low and husky with desire, I was gone.
Making her feel good? That, at least, I know how to do.
Now that my mind is clearer, worry creeps in.
This is last year all over again, but worse because now I really know her.
I’ve watched her water her plants, murmuring to each one like it’s a dear friend.
I’ve seen her tasseled bookmarks scattered across the couch, her ballet shoes waiting by the front door, her purple toothbrush beside the sink.
I’ve memorized how she sounds when she laughs at something I said or reads medical articles out loud to herself without noticing.
She’s not just a memory anymore.
She’s Helen.
But I’ve read this story before. I know how it ends.
My stomach ties itself in knots as I sigh unhappily. My arms are getting tired, clutching this bundle of sweat-soaked, sex-scented linens. I nearly drop the whole thing when someone clears their throat with a loud ahem directly behind me.
I whip around to find Helen’s dad standing there, in the doorway. He looks at me, then at the sheets I hold, his expression tightening.
“What’re you doing?”
“Wh-what?” I echo, panicking. My pulse thumps in my ears, so loud I can barely hear.
He takes a step into the room and repeats louder, like I’m deaf or maybe just dumb. “What. Are. You. Doing?”
I blink, pulse surging. “Oh. Uh…laundry?”
His eyebrows lift like he’s offended by my stupidity. “I can see that. I meant why?”
Because your daughter is a firecracker at hand jobs, and she just gave me the most earth-shattering orgasm, and we left evidence all over your sheets.
Shit, even my internal monologue is babbling. I swallow hard, heat crawling up the back of my neck.
“Uh…we, umm…spilled something. Just trying to clean it up before it sets in and stains.”
Jesus Christ, Teddy.
Could I sound any more suspicious?
Phillip’s lip twitches, not with humor. “A stain?”
I open my mouth and find it completely empty of words.
Where the hell is Helen?
I’m one second away from blacking out when I hear footsteps pounding down the stairs. Helen comes rushing into the room, moving so fast her hair flies out behind her.
“Dad! What’re you doing here?”
He practically rolls his eyes. “I live here, remember?”
“Oh! Of course.” Helen meets my worried gaze and lets out a lighthearted laugh, but the quick dart of her eyes, the sudden tension in her shoulders, tells me she’s equally freaked out.
Phillip turns and trudges back up the stairs, calling out, “Your mom wanted me to tell you breakfast is ready.”
“Perfect,” Helen chirps. “We’ll be up in a minute.”
She grabs the sheets and comforter out of my hands. With quiet efficiency she loads them into the washing machine. A tiny blue and green detergent pod follows, then she slams the door closed and sets the dial. The washer makes a beep and starts to spin, sudsy water splashing inside.
Helen’s hands are on her hips when she turns back to me. “Are you ready to go upstairs?”
“Yes.” I nod once, like she’s the general and I’m the foot soldier reporting for duty.
“You’re not going to act weird, right, Teddy? No acting weird in front of my parents. No letting them know what happened.”
“No.” I resist the urge to salute her.
She narrows her eyes at me, then exhales hard and walks away.
I stay there, stuck in place for a beat longer, watching the clothes spin. Then I gather myself and follow, repeating:
Don’t tell Helen’s parents about her suspension.
Don’t tell Helen’s parents we’re not dating.
Don’t tell Helen’s parents I came all over their sheets.
The list keeps growing.
I’m not sure how much longer I can keep it all straight, how many lies I can juggle without messing up, and when that happens, it won’t be her parents I let down.
It’ll be Helen.
***
Helen
Teddy was so weird all through breakfast. He nodded too much, talked too loud, and flinched when my dad asked him to pass the salt.
Only ate three of my mom’s specialty cinnamon rolls, which is borderline criminal because those things are basically sugar-laced perfection.
It was bad enough that Mom pulled me aside afterward, as we washed the dishes, and asked if everything was okay.
I let out a nervous laugh and assured her it was fine.
“He’s just scared of Dad,” I told her.
She let out a soft sigh. “I know your dad can be hard-headed, but that’s how he shows love.
With everything going on, with me, with work, he’s overwhelmed.
Now you’ve got your first serious boyfriend…
” She trails off, then adds gently, “Your dad doesn’t always know how to handle new variables.
He’s a fixer, a protector. If he’s cold to Teddy, it’s not to be cruel.
It’s fear. He’s scared of losing me. Scared of losing you.
Scared you’ll get hurt. We’ve never been good at letting you make your own mistakes, and that’s on us, sweetheart. Not you.”
There’s a lot to unpack in all of that. First, Teddy isn’t really my boyfriend, even if I can still feel the ghost of his hands on me from this morning.
Second, my mom is gently, almost casually, alluding to a time when she won’t be here.
A time when my dad will be the only one left to watch over me, but I’m not ready to think about that.
None of us are.
Now, Teddy and I are in the car, driving back to Santa Monica.
He’s quiet, staring out the window at the ocean with a pensive expression that feels unfamiliar on his usually open face.
It’s throwing me off, not knowing what he’s thinking.
He’s the kind of person who says everything out loud, no filter, no calculation.
It’s one of the things I like about him.
He carries the weight of the conversation so easily that, around him, I talk more than I ever have.
I’m not sure what to do with this withdrawn version of him.
Finally, I can’t take the silence anymore.
“What are you thinking? And why did you get so quiet after what happened this morning?” I can feel myself flushing at the memory, his mouth on my neck, his hands between my legs, but I power through.
“Also, are you serious about the Coast Guard? I wasn’t trying to talk you into anything last night.
I shouldn’t have pushed so hard. Oh, and thank you for going to my parents’ house.
Sorry my dad was mean. Are you mad at me?
” I grip the wheel tighter, out of breath, every word tumbling out in one long, nervous stream.
Teddy turns to me, his eyebrows raised and eyes wide. “Wow, Helen. How long have you had all that bottled up?”
I stare straight ahead. “Umm, a while now, I guess?” A quick glance shows him chuckling, shaking his head with something that looks suspiciously like fondness.
“You know what I can’t figure out about you?”
“What?” I stiffen, bracing for something awful.
“How you’re a total boss in the ER, how you blurt out every wild thought in your head at the weirdest times,” he says, grinning at me, “and yet you still can’t manage a conversation with Lindsey that goes beyond what the weather will be like tomorrow.”
I shrug, a quick lift and drop of my shoulders. “That’s easy. When I’m in doctor mode, I know exactly what to say. It’s medicine. Lots of things are black and white. Most diseases follow patterns. Symptom A leads to Diagnosis B, which gives you Treatment C. Linear. Predictable. Safe.”
I draw in a breath. “You...well, that’s harder to explain.
It’s just that you’re easy to talk to. You listen and never seem impatient or annoyed, even if it takes me forever to get to my point.
You give me room to figure out what I’m trying to say.
Most people rush to fill silences, and that makes it even harder to find the words.
I don’t know.” I rub my forehead, wishing I could explain better. “Does that make any sense?”
He nods. “It totally does. And to answer your questions, I’m definitely not mad at you. I never have been. I agreed to this whole fake-boyfriend charade, and I’m not backing out now.”
“Really?” I ask, the worry that’s been tugging at the edges of my mind finally breaking loose. “So you’ll do the boat parade and come for Christmas?”
I don’t want to disappoint my mom. I don’t want her to be sad during her favorite holiday.
My dad might not have been thrilled about Teddy, but my mom lit up with joy.
She loved having someone new to fuss over, to feed, to include.
As much as I need the hospital to feel fulfilled, she needs to be a mom.
All those years I was in New York were hard for her.
Now I’m back, with a boyfriend in tow, and it’s like her personal version of heaven.
Not just one kid to dote on, to spoil, but two.
“Wild reindeer couldn’t keep me away,” Teddy says with a grin.
I feel my shoulders drop as the tension drains out of me. I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been holding on to that fear.
He goes on, “Let’s see, what else were you asking? Oh, right. Your dad. It’s fine. If I ever have a daughter, I’m sure I’ll be the same way.”
Something warm rushes through me at that thought. Teddy as a dad. He’d be a great one. So patient and kind.
He scratches his chin, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “I was serious about the Coast Guard. If you’re serious about helping me. I’m not sure I can do it otherwise.”
“I mean it. I’ll tutor you.” I jump in too quick, too eager, but I don’t care.
The idea excites me. Being a doctor isn’t just what I do.
It’s who I am and lately, without patients to help and problems to solve, I’ve felt unmoored.
Like I’m floating through my days. If Teddy hadn’t been around, I would’ve lost my mind by now.
Teaching him might be exactly what I need.
A way to feel useful. More like my old self.
Besides, it’s Teddy.
I’d do anything for him.
Teddy stops talking, but there’s one question he hasn’t answered, and I don’t think it’s because he forgot. I think he’s avoiding it, but it lingers between us, heavy in the air.
“About this morning?” I ask quietly. “How you freaked out after…”
He lets out a breath and drops his head. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“You didn’t like it? You regret it?” The words scrape their way out of my throat as my stomach sinks.
He barks out a sharp laugh. “I definitely liked it. Like...a lot.”
His gaze flicks to mine, lingering just long enough to make my pulse catch. “That’s the problem. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Oh.
That hits like a slap to the face. I’m not always great at reading between the lines, but even I can understand what he’s saying. He’s not as into me as I am into him, and now he’s trying to protect me. To shield my feelings, which is confusing because it makes me like him even more.
Stupid, I know.
“Okay,” I murmur, swallowing around the lump in my throat. “I get it. We probably shouldn’t do that again. We’ll stick to the plan. Friends.”
A long silence has me glancing over to take in his drawn mouth. The tightness at the corner of his eyes, which confuses me. I’m trying to give him what he wants, so why does he look like that?
“Cool.” He turns away, cutting off my attempt to read him. “Friends is fine. Friends is great. Fan-friend-tastic.”
“Yeah,” I repeat after him, “fantastic.”
The word is the exact opposite of how I feel.