12. Teddy #2
"The busiest stretch of the autumn harvest is finished," Teddy replied, as she rested her weight against the kitchen cabinetry.
"The inventory is cataloged, the structural repairs inside the cider barn and equipment shed are complete, and the financial ledgers are balanced.
You don't need my assistance for the remaining weeks. "
Dahlia set her pen down on the oak table, the pen clicking softly against the grain. "This isn't about farm logistics and you know it. You're packing your bag because staying requires you to be vulnerable, and leaving is the single defense you've ever trusted."
Teddy’s jaw was set firm as she met her sister's steady gaze. "I came back to help with the autumn season, as required by the provisions of the estate. I've fulfilled my responsibilities, according to the will. There’s no obligation for me to stay."
“But I’ve hardly even seen you,” Prue said. “I was only here for part of the season and we’ve been so busy we haven’t even been able to spend time together.”
Teddy didn’t get a chance to respond before Dahlia spoke again.
"You’re your own worst enemy, Teddy, you know that?
You say you want to be included, but then you repeatedly leave before anyone can prove they want you to stay," Dahlia countered, her tone brooking no argument.
"You keep one foot outside the threshold, so that if things become too difficult or painful, you can claim you weren't truly here to stay anyway. "
Teddy tilted her head slightly, staring toward the glass pane where the orchard trees stood bathed in copper light. She opened her mouth to offer an analytical rebuttal, but before she could speak, Junie leaned forward across the oak table.
Junie’s dark eyes shone soft, holding an earnestness that caused Teddy’s chest to constrict.
"That observation isn't wrong. For years, we relied on your independence.
You were the strongest one out of all of us.
But we made a mistake by assuming you didn't require comfort or support because you never asked for it. I’m so sorry, Teddy.
You deserved better than that. Especially when we were kids. "
The words landed against her ribs with the gravity of an absolute truth. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. Teddy was determined to keep the tears at bay. She'd always felt like an outsider, even in her own family. But maybe that was also a wall of her own making.
Teddy sat down at the table with a sigh, trying to steady the riot of emotions going on inside of her. Prue reached across the table, her palm positioned upward on the polished oak surface. An invitation. Teddy reached across the table and took her sister’s hand.
"The truth is we don’t always know how to get through to you," Prue expressed softly, her gaze anchored steadily on Teddy as she squeezed her hand gently.
"You want to be on the inside, but you’re the one keeping everybody at a distance.
You expect people to break through your thick walls without ever giving them permission to enter.
You stand at a distance, watching every gesture, testing everyone around you to see if they'll push past your defenses, and when they respect the boundaries you built, you interpret their courtesy as rejection. "
A sharp silence descended over the kitchen, broken only by the steady hum of the refrigerator and the faint rustle of drying leaves against the windowpane.
Teddy’s throat tightened, her lungs struggling to draw a deep, steady breath. She observed the three sisters gathered around the table where they'd shared meals, arguments, and grief throughout their formative years.
Every word they'd spoken exposed the hidden architecture of her soul.
She'd reasoned that the veterinarian's firm boundaries and her sisters' insistence that they take care of the farm stand while she repaired the barn because that’s what she was so good at, were proof that she belonged elsewhere. That she still didn’t quite fit in.
But in truth, she'd written the rules of an impossible test. She'd demanded that the people who cared about her guess her unspoken desires while she actively pushed them away, treating their respect for her distance as evidence that she wasn't wanted.
"I didn't believe space existed for me here, outside of the physical labor," Teddy murmured. “Since Dad died, that’s all I’ve really been valued for. Terrific Teddy who can chop the wood, and mend fences, and repair the roof.”
"Oh, Teddy,” Prue said. “I’m so sorry we ever made you feel that way.”
“There has always been space for you," Dahlia added, as she reached across the table, laying her hand on top of her two sisters’ hands.
"We love you. And even if you never repaired another thing on the farm, we’d still love having you here with us.
Running isn't the answer to every uncomfortable emotion. "
Teddy glanced down toward her canvas duffel bag resting near the door. The bag represented her escape hatch, the safety net she'd held onto since she’d arrived here.
She took a deep, steady breath, letting the warm aroma of baked apples and cinnamon fill her lungs.
Reaching down, she picked up the duffel bag and carried it back toward the stairs.
She didn't return it to her bedroom to unpack immediately, but she set it aside near the hall closet, symbolic of a choice she stood ready to make.
Turning back toward the kitchen, she met the eyes of her sisters. For the first moment since returning to Harvest Hollow, she felt truly unburdened.
The twilight atmosphere carried the fragrant aroma of fallen oak leaves and late-season apples as Teddy sat alone on the porch.
The afternoon sun had dipped below the western ridge twenty minutes earlier, leaving a long band of copper and soft lavender stretched across the autumn horizon.
Below the railing, the pumpkin patch rested in shadow, dark vines winding across the damp earth while the farm stand stood silent.
Behind her, the kitchen windows glowed with a warm, amber radiance where her three sisters remained gathered around the large oak table.
The soft clatter of tea cups and conversation drifted through the screen door, but out on the porch, the evening remained serene.
Teddy drew her knees toward her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around her shins while her gaze swept toward the black silhouette of the apple orchard.
The cool dusk breeze rustled through the drying canopy, dropping a scatter of crimson foliage onto the damp grass below.
The observations offered by her sisters continued to reverberate through her thoughts.
Each honest statement had struck her defensive wall with distinct force, dismantling the narrative she'd carefully constructed since arriving back in Harvest Hollow. They were right. For so long, she’d done whatever was expected of her, while keeping her heart safe from the threat of emotional attachment.
She'd viewed her emotional distance as a necessary sacrifice, believing that remaining aloof provided the only path to shield herself from any rejection or heartbreak.