Chapter 30
Teddy
It felt like I’d been punched in the gut.
After weeks of careful distance, I’d finally allowed myself to go there with Chloe.
To stop worrying about the future, or about how little time I had left at Gwenynen this year, or what us getting together might mean.
I’d decided to just let it burn, as Amy had said.
I’d let myself believe that what was happening between us meant something more than just a drunken mistake.
Apparently, I’d been wrong.
I drove back to the farm in a haze of hurt and confusion, Chloe’s words echoing in my head.
“We both want something that can only belong to one of us.” She was right, of course.
I’d known that from the beginning; since the moment Jen had admitted she’d hired someone.
And yet somehow, along the way, I’d convinced myself that what was building between us was separate to all that.
Clearly, I was the only one who’d felt that way.
Back at the farmhouse, I checked my emails and found a message from Chloe to both Jen and me, saying she’d be working from home all week, despite how close we were to the festival.
My first instinct was anger. Classic Chloe – flighty and inconsiderate, running away when things got tough. Making me deal with the awkwardness of our situation while she hid behind her laptop screen.
But even as the thought formed, I knew it wasn’t fair.
I knew Chloe now, and I’d seen who she really was beneath the bravado.
She was considerate and funny, and stronger than she gave herself credit for.
She’d thrown herself into learning about the farm, had genuinely cared about doing good work, and had proven me wrong more times than I cared to admit.
The same quick thinking that made her seem flighty at first was also what helped her save the day.
And that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? Who could know her and not admire her?
My phone buzzed with messages throughout the day – Fatima asking how the wedding had gone, Jack wondering if I wanted to try a new hiking trail he’d discovered, my dad texting just to say hi – but I ignored them all, even when Jack texted again to let me know when he was free.
I wondered if somehow he knew what had happened.
Everything felt tangled up with Chloe in my mind now, and I wasn’t ready to pretend everything was normal; especially not with her best friend.
Though I did appreciate that people were checking in on me.
It was strange, having friends who noticed when I went quiet.
Even if they were really Chloe’s friends.
What would those friendships look like now?
Would I still have them when I came back next year, even now that I’d fucked things up with Chloe?
I’d always imagined my life at Gwenynen to be a small one: just Jen, Willow, Maggie, and me.
But now that I had widened my circle – now that I knew there were other people who cared about me, and whom I cared for in return – I wasn’t sure that an isolated life was what I actually wanted.
Which was unfortunate, since I had six isolated months coming up before I could return. Those new friendships would be put on hold, whether I liked it or not.
* * *
A much-needed bright spot came the next day in the post, in the form of our official approval to sell the soaps. I was thrilled; months of work and experimentation had finally paid off. I couldn’t wait to tell Jen.
I found her in the warehouse, where she was checking on the spring mead batch that we’d been planning to transfer for oak ageing. The acidity levels had been higher than usual this year, and we were hoping the oak would help mellow the flavour profile.
But she wasn’t alone. Maggie was there, too, and they were laughing. Maggie had her head dipped low next to Jen’s ear, and was I imagining things, or was Maggie’s hand on Jen’s hip?
I cleared my throat, and they jumped apart as if I’d shouted, looking around guiltily for the source of the intrusion. They both plastered on their best poker faces when they saw me, and Maggie hurried past me out the door, muttering something about chopping wood.
“Good news,” I said, choosing to ignore whatever that had been, waving the paper in the air. “The soap got approved!”
Jen’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful! All that work paid off. Really well done, Ted.”
I explained the details of what we’d need to do to keep the certification as we set up the transfer equipment, the familiar routine of working together soothing some of my frayed nerves. It felt good to focus on something concrete; something I understood completely.
“So,” Jen said as we started moving the first batch, “how are things going with Chloe?”
Aaaaaand there it was. I really couldn’t escape her, could I? I kept my eyes on the mead flowing through the transfer tube. “Fine.”
“Teddy.”
Something in her tone made me look up. Jen was studying me with the perceptive gaze that had seen through my defences my whole life.
“It’s fine,” I repeated. “We work well together. She’s good at her job.”
“I feel like you’ve been treating me more like a boss than an aunt lately,” Jen said quietly. “I miss our closeness.”
The observation stung, but I couldn’t deny it.
Part of me was still upset about how things had gone with hiring Chloe.
Why hadn’t she talked to me about it? I could admit that I was probably overly sensitive about my position at the farm, but I liked to think I wouldn’t have been angry with her if she’d told me what she was planning.
If anything, maybe I would have been excited.
Because, at the end of the day, I wasn’t an idiot – I knew that Chloe’s work was important, and I knew Jen wouldn’t have used the money if she’d thought there was any way for me to come on board this year.
I knew how important it was to grow the business.
And Chloe really was good at her job, so her doing well might mean good things for me, too, even if not right away.
But instead, she’d kept it from me. And from the moment I’d seen Chloe in that studio, it had felt like everything I’d pictured for myself – getting to wake up on the farm on Christmas morning, and harvest the parsnips I’d planted out this spring, and buy more clothing than could fit in a single suitcase – would belong to her instead.
And even though I was falling in love with her – goddamn it, I was falling in love with her, wasn’t I?
– I resented her, just as she’d said, for having the options I wanted for myself.
“It’s hard to feel close when I feel like you’re being opaque about the situation,” I admitted. “I know you say it’s complicated, but…”
“Don’t you think I’d bring you on if I could?” Jen said, her voice firmer and louder. “Don’t you think I’ve exhausted my options for that, Teddy? Don’t you think I want you here? From the moment your mom—”
Grief hit me like a freight train as Jen began to choke up.
It was funny; usually Gwenynen was full of Mom-shaped landmines, threatening to level me with sadness and longing at any moment.
But I’d been so distracted this summer that I’d barely grieved her at all.
What kind of daughter didn’t miss her own mother in the place they’d built together?
I put down the siphon so I could wrap my arms around Jen, letting her cry into me. It took us both a moment to compose ourselves – while my face stayed dry, I could feel my breathing growing shallow – and I rested my head on her shoulder until she stepped back and nodded.
“You okay?” I asked, my own voice thick with emotion.
She shook her head. “Of course not,” she said. “I hate that I can’t give you what you want. From the moment I knew your mom was sick, I looked into how to get you here. We even talked about her giving up her parental privileges so you could stay here.”
I frowned. “You did?”
Jen nodded. “But you were too old. You’d just gotten into North Dakota, and … well, it just didn’t work.”
“I can’t believe you would have done that for me,” I said, my mouth dry. Jen had always felt like a parent to me, but to know that she’d been willing to literally become one? It meant everything.
Jen turned and put her hands on my shoulders. “Teddy, I would do anything for you. I even considered letting Maggie go last year so you could stay, or just having her seasonally instead of all year, but she doesn’t make enough money off us anyway, so it didn’t close the gap.”
I shook my head. “I’m glad you didn’t do that.”
“Yeah,” Jen said softly, making it clear that there was a lot under the surface that she wasn’t saying. “Me, too.”
I made a mental note to ask about that sometime. If Jen had found happiness somewhere, I wanted to know about it. But for now, I wanted to put everything on the table.
“I have some ideas,” I said. “I’m not saying they’d make it possible, but I’ve been crunching the numbers.”
Jen laughed. “Of course you have.”
“If you pay yourself less—”
Jen shot me a look that told me that was a non-starter, though I suspected it was because she paid herself basically nothing rather than that she wouldn’t do it. I laughed.
“I know – but hear me out.”
Jen nodded and pulled up a pair of stools from a neighbouring table.
“Show me what you’ve got,” she said. “I’m listening. No promises, but I want this, too, so let’s have a look.”
I pulled out my phone and showed her my ever-evolving spreadsheet.
She was already paying me half the required salary for sponsorship, given that I was here six months out of the year, so we only needed to come up with the other half.
I’d figured out that if Jen paid herself a bit less every month, and then I paid that same amount back to her in rent, then we’d get most of the way to the number we needed.
We’d lose a good bit on taxes, but I figured that was the price of living somewhere with public healthcare.