38. Nellie
THIRTY-EIGHT
NELLIE
I read a book once about a vampire that turned the woman he was in love with into one, with her consent of course. They became obsessed with one another to the point it was dangerous to be around anyone else. She could sense he was on his way home from fifty miles away and started getting all hot and bothered, then she’d be ripping the door off the hinges the second he pulled into the driveway. He’d be equally agitated and they’d collide with such a force that would have killed them if they were human. In short, they were addicted to one another, and that’s how I feel right now. When Teddy is gone, I become agitated. I have a hard time focusing on the kids who have questions or adults looking for a recommendation. All I want is for Teddy to pull in so I can jump him.
It took me a while to realize that our December reunion was essentially us colliding after too long apart. And then three nights ago in the garden, another collision after far too many months of teasing. It feels like I was only fighting the inevitable, and you know what they say about inevitabilities: it’s only a matter of time. I felt this way years ago, but it feels more intense now. This doesn’t feel like a honeymoon stage anymore, it feels like a triumph after reaching the summit.
“Al’s wife loved this book,” Midge says, holding up one of my mom’s more popular releases.
“Oh yeah?” I shake off my Teddy withdrawal and walk over to the display she’s standing by.
“ The Ghost of North Bakers Lane . She read it so many times the pages were practically falling out.”
“I’ll let my mom know,” I say nonchalantly.
Midge stares down at me as if I’ve just said something insane. “Why would you tell your mom?” she asks slowly.
“Because she wrote it.”
“Your mother is Jean Woodcroft?”
“She is indeed.”
“Oh, Natasha would have loved to meet you. She would have loved to meet you anyway since you brought more books. But her favorite author’s daughter. Oooeee.”
I wonder how close Midge was to George’s wife. “When did she pass?” I ask.
“Oh, let’s see. Stewart died six years ago, which means Natasha died eight years ago thereabouts.”
I gasp. “That’s not why you call George Grumpy Al is it? Because he was grieving?”
Midge looks taken aback. “What kind of heartless bitch do you take me for? I started calling him Grumpy Al the first time I met him, which was twelve years ago.”
Twelve years. She met George the same year I met Teddy. Wild.
“But why?” George is the farthest thing from grumpy.
“I walked into this little station to pay for gas, and when I walked in, he got all grumbly because I’d interrupted his penny counting. I smacked down a twenty and turned right back around but not before calling ‘Night, Grumpy Al,’ over my shoulder.”
“When did you find out his real name?”
“Natasha dragged him over the next afternoon to welcome us to the neighborhood. When he saw me, he got all aggravated, and after explaining who I was, Natasha told me we were going to be best friends. Al said, and I quote, ‘Over my dead body.’ Turns out he’s never been good at threats because not only is he still here, he encouraged the friendship.”
I’m momentarily distracted when a truck pulls in. Disappointment must show on my face when it’s not Teddy because Midge pats my arm. “It’s nice to see that you two have repaired whatever had been broken.”
“Hmm?” I glance down at her.
“You and Teddy. There was clearly some barrier between you two when you arrived, but it seems it’s been removed?”
There is absolutely no point in trying to lie to this woman; she’s a bloodhound. Whether it’s getting to the bottom of someone’s love life or detecting which grandkid tracked muddy footprints through the kitchen, she will find it out.
“I think so,” I say slowly. “Early days yet.”
“What are you worried about?” She takes me by the elbow and guides me to one of the chairs, sitting me down before sitting next to me. “Pretend they aren’t here.” She gestures to the three kids sprawled on the rug, one sitting on a big bean bag chair one of the residents had dropped off.
“We have pretty different lives. Well, not exactly different, we just don’t live near one another.”
“Distance is a terrible excuse. Why else?”
“No, it’s not so much the distance. It’s just that… well, he loves his job and I lo… like mine and it’s not like we can just relocate to do it.”
“In three years, is that job going to welcome you home from a long day? Is it going to hold you when you’ve had a bad day? Cook for you? Make your toes curl with its kisses?”
“No,” I say quietly.
“A job is just a job. It doesn’t give a shit about you.”
“Grandma!” one of her grandkids gasps. “Language.”
“Kelly, we have discussed this. I am tall enough to say whatever words I want without getting in trouble. When you are this tall, you may do the same.”
Kelly scoffs and goes back to her book. “Her mother is a bit of a prude,” Midge whispers to me. “Lovely woman, works admin at the mill, but…” She gives me a look that shows she has little patience for her. “Now.” She pats my knee heartily. “Back to this make-believe conundrum. I know it’s hard to find a job you lo… like and you went to school for and all that. I loved my job, sometimes more than the one I had at home, if I’m being honest. But at the end of the day, it was Stewart that made me happy, not the classroom.”
“I thought you hated your husband.” Midge hasn’t had a kind thing to say about the man since we arrived.
“He wasn’t well in his last couple of years, and he changed. Sometimes it’s easier to remember that person… easier to remember the pain he caused me—never physically,” she quickly reassures me when she sees my eyes widen. “Emotionally. He was unstable, and life was hell, quite frankly. Out here in the middle of nowhere, I’d just lost my best friend, and the man I’d spent forty years head over heels in love with seemed to hate me. But when he took his final breath at the hospital holding my hand, he looked at me and I saw him there, the Stewart I’d married. The man who had never raised his voice to me or called me a terrible name. And I realized that I had grieved that man already.”
“That’s a pretty big realization,” I say, reaching out and squeezing her hand .
“And I lied about it.” She laughs. “Al was the one who made me see it. Still in the throes of his grief, two years after Natasha left us. He said he’d watched me go through the same stuff, heard me say the same things he was thinking even though Stewart was still here physically.”
“I’m sorry Midge.”
“Nellie, don’t be sorry. I got years of happiness with a man I was mad about. How lucky am I? Some people never get that. Now.” She slaps her thigh. “I came today because I have something to discuss with you.”
Teddy still isn’t back when it’s time to close up the library, so I pick up a copy of The Forest of Despair , curl up in the beanbag chair, flip to my favorite part, and start reading, Kevin dreaming by my side, chasing after a chipmunk perhaps.
Dusk is settling when George’s truck pulls in, and I slip my glasses onto my head and unabashedly watch Teddy unfold himself from the passenger seat. He and George exchange goodbyes, and he starts to make his way over. Kevin greets him halfway, and I feel my insides turn to mush when he picks the little dog up for a snuggle.
“Hey you,” he says, dropping to his knees beside me. “I should have known you’d be reading your favorite book.”
“How was your day?” I ask after I kiss him quickly. Something that feels new and somehow like the most natural thing in the world.
He eyes the top of my head, and a soft smile forms. “Ah, it was interesting,” he says slowly, reaching up and gently untangling the glasses from my hair and holding them out for me .
“Mine too,” I muse, slipping them into my bag, alongside my book.
“How was yours interesting?” he asks, leaning in for a quick kiss.
I shake my head and pull him back when he starts to retreat. “I want to hear about your day first,” I murmur against his lips.
He hums in response before sitting back, his hands resting on my knees. “Well, it started with this hot make-out session at the lake.” Teddy’s eyes rake down my body, and I feel my skin heat. “Then I think I was offered a job, or a temporary job anyway.” He seems confused by what he’s telling me.
“What kind of job?”
“Betty asked if I’d be interested in taking over the shelter for a bit. Joshua could use more treatments and more regular visits with his physiotherapist to help him get back on his feet. Their daughter suggested that they move in with her in Timmins so they could be closer to the hospital. Especially for the winter.”
“And what did you say?” I ask nervously.
His gaze holds mine and I feel like he’s going to wreck me again. “I said I’d think about it. I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Why? You don’t need my permission.”
“No,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want your opinion or your input in any way I can get it.” He takes the book out of my hand and sets it aside, then takes both my hands in his. “What are you thinking, LG?”
He looks nervous despite how steady his hands are. His eyes are giving him away. “What was your first instinct? Was it to say yes?”
He shakes his head slowly. “My first thought was of you. Just ‘Nellie.’ ” My breath catches at the way he says my name like a prayer .
“I can’t factor into your decisions, Teddy. You need to do what is going to be best for you. Not me, or Bennett, you.”
Rising on his knees so he’s above me, he gently takes my face in his hands. “You’re what’s best for me, Nellie.” When I close my eyes, he pleads with me to look at him, and I do. His nervous expression has given way to determination and something softer that I can’t quite name. “Does the idea of us scare you?”
“No,” I whisper. “It should, but it feels far more right than knowing you’re out there and not with me.”
“Since December, I’ve felt…” He pauses, thinking of the right word. “Settled. Like you showed up, and that was that. I was home, even if you weren’t with me. You existing nearby made me feel like I was home. I hadn’t felt like that in so long, Nell. I’ve questioned so many choices since I left. But when it comes to you, I’ve never questioned how I feel.” He sounds like Marley. Someone is saying this about me, and I’m nearly speechless.
“And how do you feel?” I ask quietly.
“Like I could conquer anything as long as you’re by my side. Like I’ve won some grand prize I didn’t even know I was entered for. Like this was inevitable. You…you’ve had my heart since the train. It just feels like I’ve been reunited with it after a very long absence. It has a reason to beat again. It’s—” I stop his words with a kiss. I don’t need him to carry on coming up with ways to tell me how he feels without saying the words everyone focuses on. I don’t even need them, just the fact he wants my input tells me where I stand.
I draw back slowly. “I think you should say yes.”