33. Teddy
THIRTY-THREE
TEDDY
Every morning starts with a trip to the lake and a visit with the loons before Nellie heads to the library and I drive out to Betty’s. Some days we talk, and others we just swim quietly. I don’t know if we’ve slipped back to the summer we spent together or if I just wish we had, but it feels a bit more like that than the frosty distance we’ve had since.
Getting out of the lake on day twenty-three of our residence at Midge’s, Nellie slices her foot open on a rock. I’d finally convinced her to lose the water shoes, and within an hour there’s a puddle of blood pooling on the rock where we sit and have our coffee every morning.
“Shit,” Nellie curses, reaching for her towel and immediately pressing it to the wound. I watch in horror as the blood seeps through the towel. Nellie, on the other hand, calmly folds the material again and presses it back against the cut.
“Nellie, Jesus, you’re bleeding like a hemophiliac.” I grab my towel and kneel beside her at the ready, tiny pebbles pressing into my skin. Then I remember what she’d said about getting over her fear of blood. “Wait, are you? ”
“Am I what?” she asks without looking up at me.
“A hemophiliac?” That would explain being afraid of blood and getting over it right? Constant exposure tends to ease fears.
“No, it’s—well, it’s a disease, but it’s not hemophilia.” When she looks up at me, she quickly continues, “It’s like hemophilia light. It won’t kill me. I just have a hard time clotting, but I will, eventually.”
I barely hear what she says next because she’s in my arms and I’m off back through the woods towards Midge’s. She’s still talking and I can hear Kevin yapping, but the blood pounding in my ears muffles everything.
Midge is sitting in a Muskoka chair sipping her coffee when I burst out of the forest.
“She’s bleeding. She won’t stop,” I manage to get out.
“Bring her inside,” Midge says far too calmly, standing to lead us through the door.
I’m panicking, I know I am, but much like the bleeding, I can’t stop. I set Nellie down on the old patchwork sofa and kneel next to her foot, unwrapping the soiled towel and calling out for a first aid kit. At least I think I do, I think I may be hyperventilating. Midge is next to me in seconds and gently shoves me to the side so she’s closer to Nellie’s foot and I’m closer to her head.
I can feel hands on my face, but I feel a bit like I’m floating. Movement around me, cold on my neck, my name far away, slowly moving closer.
“Teddy, Teddy, it’s okay, I’m fine.” It feels like my heart is trying to escape through my neck. The hands slip from my face as I scramble backward. I don’t know how I get on my feet or back outside, but I suddenly find myself bent with my hands on my knees, staring at the coffee and maple cookies I’d had before swimming as silver stars dance through the air.
Run , a tiny voice whispers, and I feel the urge to give in. But I stay put. Running wasn’t the answer last time I did it, and it most certainly isn’t the way to handle this.
A hand lands on my back. “The bleeding has slowed down,” George says from beside me. “I think she may need medical attention, though. The cut is deep, and who knows what got in there from the lake.”
“I’ll get the truck—”
“No,” George states firmly. “You will not be getting behind the wheel in this state, young man. You’re not even wearing shoes. I’ll bring mine around. You can come with us as long as you pull yourself together. Nellie is fine, but if you aren’t, that’s not going to help her.”
“Right.” I take a deep breath and finally look over at the old man. “Wait, when did you get here?”
He laughs, his hands slipping into his pockets as he tips back on his heels. “I’ve been here the whole time, kid. Was sitting beside Magpie when you came running out of the woods like there was a grizzly on your heels.”
“I, I didn’t notice you,” I stammer.
“No shit!” He laughs harder. “You looked like you had the love of your life’s life in your hands.”
I did , I think.
“The blood, it, it wouldn’t stop. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Well, you did the right thing, albeit maybe a tad more dramatically than it needed to be done. Maybe bring the panic down a bit.” George pats my arm before gently leading me back towards the house. “Now, deep breath. You good?” he asks, sliding the patio door open when I nod.
Nellie’s eyes meet mine over the rim of the orange juice she’s drinking, the minute I’m through the door I feel myself deflate. She’s fine, but she looks worried, probably about me. I hate that she’s the one who’s hurt and she’s sitting there concerned about my lame ass.
“You okay?” she asks, her head tilting a little to the left.
I breathe out heavily and nod. “I’m fine. I don’t know what that was.”
“That was a bloody panic attack,” George inserts unhelpfully.
Midge sighs, handing me a glass of juice. “I don’t know if that was a clever turn of phrase or inappropriate. Drink that, then we’ll get this one to the clinic.”
Taking a sip, I stand there awkwardly, not sure how to conduct myself now that I’ve calmed down. I feel like the biggest fool. Then I remember that we’re not exactly close to any hospitals. “Where is the clinic?”
“Dr. Arnaud lives about forty minutes away. He has a small practice, but he’ll be able to treat the cut quickly and either glue or stitch it up.”
“Flo and I will manage the library,” Midge says. “Al will drive you. No arguments.” She holds her hand up, stopping the words about to come out of my mouth immediately.
George’s truck is significantly older than Bennett’s, but it has a back bench seat. Nellie sits behind George with her legs across the seat, her injured foot resting on my thigh so it’s slightly elevated. She and George discuss how things have been going with the library and another run-in with Morticia a couple of afternoons ago, and I sit there silently, replaying how I handled the morning.
Nellie and I have grown closer over the last two weeks, and this morning had felt like we were about to push through a barrier. She’d reached for my hand as we floated beside each other, Kevin paddling around our heads biting at the water bugs as they zipped across the surface .
“Remember that day in the pool?” she’d asked, eyes glued to the sky.
“The day you nearly undid my resolve.”
“I did not.” She laughs.
“Nellie, by that day my resolve was being held together by a frayed piece of twine.” I looked over at her to see if she would look back at me. Her attention remained on the sky, but her small smile gave away that she knew exactly what I was talking about. I continued to look at her. At how her tattoos became a little distorted by the water. She has so many new ones, and I’m desperate to explore them. “How many tattoos do you have now?”
“A few,” she said coyly.
“A few more than that day in the pool.”
She turned to look at me, her dark blue eyes traveling down my face to where my chest sat just above the water. “You have at least one more than you had that day.”
My hand automatically covered the small artwork that sits over my heart. “I was wondering if you were ever going to say anything.”
“I wasn’t sure I wanted to acknowledge what it may mean,” she said quietly.
I tightened my grip and pulled her closer, letting my lower half sink and encouraging her to do the same until we were facing each other, treading water.
“What do you think it means, Nellie?”
Nellie’s hand reached out, and I shivered as her fingers danced across the blue jay in flight across my chest. “I think it means you really like blue jays,” she whispered. Then she’d put both her hands on my shoulders and dunked me before racing off towards the shore.
“What do you think?”
I blink away visions of this morning and see Nellie looking at me, one eyebrow raised. Forest passes by out the window behind her, and I take a split second to reorientate myself with where I am.
“Sorry?”
She tilts her head, eyebrows knitting in concern. “I was wondering how many dogs you think Bennett will take?”
“Oh, we only have room for two comfortably. Cass said they already have applications filled out for them, and Marley and Betty have approved a couple of candidates. So as long as their meet-and-greets go well, they’ll have homes within hours of us getting back.”
“Does Bennett know?”
I can picture Bennett trying to make his case to keep the dogs there for longer and then inevitably forever. “I’m pretty sure Marley put her foot down. He has no reason to keep them. It’s a good trial run, using tried-and-true methods from Betty.” We pass a maintenance truck on the side of the road with a wood chipper attached, and my attention is momentarily captured.
“Do you miss it?”
“Hmm?” I turn back to Nellie.
“The tree stuff?”
My shoulders rise and fall before I can even vocalize an opinion. “Sometimes I miss the rush of it. I think my body misses it most of all.” Nellie’s eyes slowly sweep down my side, and I feel my body heat.
“You still do some stuff at Bennett’s though, right?”
Nodding, I force myself to keep looking at her, despite the heat of her stare. “Here and there. I can’t complain, though. The job is pretty great.”
“What was your favorite part of working in the trees?”
The quiet, I think, although it’s not exactly a quiet profession. “There is this moment, right when you get up high. The noise of the ground is muted, and for a time all you hear is the tree. Gentle creaks or leaves rustling. I remember the moment I went from being afraid to craving it. There was this mountain ash in New Zealand we had been doing some work on for a couple of days. It was early in the day, and I hadn’t slept well the night before so I had been dreading work.”
“Climbing trees on little sleep seems ill-advised.” Nellie laughs softly.
“Yes, although I was kind of in a trance-like state so I wasn’t thinking about my underlying fear of heights. I get up to the top to start pruning and—” I pause because how do I describe the moment things started to change? “This is going to sound woo-woo or something, but I felt my mom with me.”
Nellie doesn’t say anything, just offers a small smile.
“It was an incredibly weird sensation for someone who doesn’t believe in anything.” I laugh nervously, my thumb immediately making contact with my ring, drawing Nellie’s attention. “I just let myself feel it, no questions or judgments. I’ve never even told anyone before.”
“I’m honored to be the first you’ve told,” Nellie says, followed immediately by George clearing his throat. “George is honored too.”
“What you experienced there, Teddy, is the sensation of your soul healing after great grief,” George affirms quietly, his eyes meeting mine briefly in the rearview mirror.
Nellie leans forward and gently takes my hand. “That’s a beautiful thought,” she says, squeezing my fingers in hers.
The rest of the drive is quiet. Nellie’s hand wrapped around my own, resting on her knee. My attention remains on the passing scenery, but I can feel hers on me.