9

As an adult, Teddy wasn’t delusional. She knew, logically, that her parents had faced down years of discord and animosity and made the correct decision to separate. She knew that her dad simply wasn’t a good parent and that his move to California was no big loss. California could have him.

But years and years of avoiding making her own decisions had worn a groove into her brain, like the way sitting on one couch cushion leaves behind a butt imprint that you roll into whenever you watch television. After a while, Teddy forgot how to decide things for herself or who “herself” even was. She made friends after Vicki, but she kept everything on the surface level—there were people she had lunch with, people she studied with, and people she occasionally went shopping with, but no one was ever allowed to get too deep. The last thing she needed was full-scale ostracizing again.

When she got to college (OSU, of course, because that was where her mother thought she should go), with its sprawling campus, tens of thousands of students, and classes on virtually anything she could ever want to learn, she panicked. She stared at everyone else striding purposefully across campus and wondered how they knew. How did they have so much confidence in what they wanted? Teddy would think back to that little girl, hell on wheels, and wonder what she would’ve done. But at this point, Teddy didn’t know anymore. Thinking about herself as a child was like thinking about a stranger.

Of course, things fell into place when she met Richard. Suddenly, she had a purpose—Richard’s purpose. And as long as she did what he wanted, she’d never have to make another decision again.

Today, she winced as she cradled an apple crisp and walked up her mother’s porch stairs, the same ones she’d walked up with her broken arm all those years ago. But this time, her wince wasn’t because of the physical pain; it was because she was here for dinner (an extremely early dinner, because Sophia and Craig liked to start their children’s bedtime routines no later than six thirty p.m.) and knew she’d have to tell her mom and sister about her breakup, and probably hear them lament what a great guy Richard was and how Teddy was a fool to let him go.

She gave a courtesy knock and walked in to find Sophia standing in the foyer, staring blankly into space.

“Hi,” Sophia said in a whisper. “We’re still potty training Liam and I needed a moment of peace and quiet by myself and— Oh, your hair.”

Sophia stepped toward her sister with sympathy in her eyes and wrapped her in a hug.

“Does it look that bad?” Teddy asked, her voice muffled in Sophia’s shoulder. It had been so long since her sister had hugged her that it should’ve felt awkward, but it didn’t; she relaxed into the hug, feeling like they were little girls sharing a bed again.

“No, you look hot,” Sophia said, pulling back to study Teddy’s face. “You know who you look like? What’s that French movie with the cute girl who runs around Paris helping people? And there’s, like, accordion music?”

“Are you trying to say I look like Amélie?” Teddy asked. “Because I don’t.”

“You kind of do.”

“My bangs are way longer,” Teddy protested, but Sophia cut in.

“Okay, fine. Listen, I haven’t seen a movie in like . . . five years. All I’m saying is, your haircut is cute, but if it means what I think it means, I’m sorry.”

“Mommy?”

Liam was now standing in the foyer, wearing a T-shirt but no pants or underwear.

“I have to potty,” he said.

“Where’s my husband,” Sophia muttered, then screamed, “CRAIG? WHERE ARE YOU?” so loud that Teddy jumped.

Sophia waited a second, then sighed and grabbed Liam’s hand. “Okay, let’s get you to the potty.”

“I’ll be . . . in the kitchen,” Teddy said to Sophia’s retreating back, but her sister was already focusing on Liam. It wasn’t like Teddy thought that here, in her mother’s foyer next to her pantsless nephew, was where she and Sophia were finally going to reconnect and have a real conversation, but she felt disappointed all the same.

Teddy wandered into the kitchen, where her mom was plating a huge salad. “Hey, honey, could you grab me a—” her mom started.

And then she turned around and stopped midsentence. “Your hair!”

“Okay, why does everyone keep saying it like that?” Teddy asked. “It’s not like I showed up with a face tattoo of a curse word. It’s not that shocking.”

“No. Of course not.” Her mom smiled thinly. She didn’t ask where Richard was, Teddy realized, because Richard rarely came with her to family dinners. He was always, of course, too busy.

“Grab me the salad tongs, will you?” her mother asked. “Oh, did you bring a dessert? So nice, Teddy. Everything’s ready. Let’s go sit down.”

“Sure.” Teddy put the apple crisp on the kitchen counter. She wasn’t fazed by her mother’s rapid-fire, scattershot way of speaking—as usual, her mother had about one million things on her mind and felt the need to say them all at once. Teddy found the tongs in the same drawer they’d been in since she could remember and followed her mother into the dining room, where Sophia, Craig, and the kids were seated. Liam was, by this point, wearing pants.

“Your hair is short,” Emma said bluntly.

“Sure is,” said Teddy.

“Okay, let’s eat!” her mother said, clapping her hands.

Everyone passed around the dishes, and for a moment, things were quiet. And then Teddy broke the silence with “Richard and I broke up.”

For a moment, no one said anything. And then Craig, with his fork halfway to his mouth, asked, “But we didn’t like that guy, right?”

“Craig!” Sophia barked.

Craig looked to Teddy’s mom for support. “Right? I mean, he never came over here. He made fun of my job—”

“He made fun of your job?” Teddy asked. Craig had owned his own auto-repair shop since before he and Sophia met.

Craig waved her off and took another bite. “Something about how it must be fun and how he wished he could have a job where he didn’t have to think so hard,” he said with his mouth full. “Let me tell you, there is nothing less fun than trying to repair a family’s minivan when they have to leave for Myrtle Beach at six a.m. tomorrow. Which is what I did today. Do you know how many panicked phone calls we had to deal with?”

Sophia put a hand on his arm. “Not the point right now, babe. Teddy, how are you?”

The simple question made Teddy’s eyes fill with tears. “I’m okay, I guess. I’m staying with Eleanor and Kirsten.”

“He was grumpy,” Emma said before taking a sip of chocolate milk. “I don’t like him.” And then her eyes brightened. “Your new boyfriend should be Cookie Monster! I like him.”

“Cookie Monster is very . . . enthusiastic,” Teddy agreed. “I’m not really looking for a new boyfriend, but thank you, Emma.”

“Okay,” Teddy’s mom said, wiping her hands on a napkin and chewing. “Obviously, it’s time for you to go back to school.”

“Obviously?” Teddy asked.

“You go to night school or take classes online, and you don’t have to make any changes with your job. Haven’t you always wanted a business degree?”

“Have I?” Teddy asked, genuinely curious. She didn’t remember ever saying anything about wanting an MBA, but maybe this was some sort of childhood dream she’d forgotten. Maybe all small children talked about how they wanted business degrees.

“I think your main focus should be finding a place of your own,” Sophia said, shaking her head. “Everyone should live on their own at least once in their life. You know, to really understand yourself, and know what it’s like to be alone, and . . . Emma. Do not eat those peas with your hands. That’s what forks are for.”

“Well, I don’t plan on living with Kirsten and Eleanor forever . . . ,” Teddy started.

“Great. Now there are peas all over the floor.” Sophia sighed.

“All I’m saying is, you’ll feel better with a business degree. I’ll send you some links to apply, okay?” her mom said.

“I have to poop!” Liam wailed. “Moooom!”

From under the table, Sophia asked, “Craig? Can you take him to the potty?”

“Honey, I’m eating dinner,” Craig said, looking at his plate forlornly.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Sophia asked as her hand popped up to deposit more peas from the floor. “Playing tennis?”

Teddy hoped that Craig and Liam’s exit would naturally change the subject, but she wasn’t so lucky. Her mother had seized onto this topic and wouldn’t let it go until she had Teddy’s entire life planned out, including what type of burial she’d like.

As both Sophia and her mother stared at her, Teddy realized she’d spaced out while they were talking. Sometimes it was easy for her to do that—let them figure out what was happening and then go along with it.

“What?” she asked innocently, taking another bite. “Great salad, by the way.”

“Thank you,” her mother said. “The beets are from the farmers market, and you know you can’t work at the toy store forever.”

The food in Teddy’s mouth suddenly tasted less like farmers market beets and more like cardboard. She heard Richard’s voice in her head. You’ve always had a smaller life.

“What’s wrong with Colossal Toys?” Teddy asked, even though she knew what her mom would say.

She made a noise that was half cough, half secondhand embarrassment. “You can barely live on that money. It’s important to be able to take care of yourself. Trust me.”

She didn’t have to mention the second job she’d taken after Teddy’s dad left or the fact that she probably hadn’t slept a full night since then. “I take care of myself,” Teddy said.

“Yeah, but you’re staying with your friends right now,” Sophia said. “Trust me. A place of your own. It matters.”

“I pooped!” Liam said, walking back into the room, Craig trailing behind him. “And Dad wiped my butt.”

“Did you wash your hands?” Sophia asked.

“Yep,” Craig said.

“Not you,” Sophia said slowly. “Liam.”

“I washed my hands!” Liam yelled.

“You know I’m only saying this because I care,” her mom said, patting Teddy’s hand. “I want the best possible life for you, and that means being able to support yourself. Maybe you could be a lawyer, like Sophia!”

Teddy wrinkled her nose.

Sophia shook her head. “Don’t go to law school. Don’t do it.”

“I have to potty again!” Liam yelled.

“You just went!” Sophia said.

“Don’t you want what Sophia has?” Teddy’s mother asked. “A house of her own, enough money to send Liam and Emma to fancy music lessons? I wish I could’ve sent you two to music lessons. Maybe you would’ve become talented musicians.”

“But that time I pooped. Now I have to pee again!” Liam said, sliding off his chair.

“I knew he shouldn’t have had so much juice,” Sophia muttered.

“Mom, I was very bad at the recorder in music class,” Teddy reminded her. “That thing sounded like a goose honking when I played it. I don’t think a lack of formal music education is why I don’t have a career as a musician.”

“All recorders sound like geese honking, and we’re not going to be able to come up with a plan for your future at this moment,” her mother said, gesturing vaguely at the family to encompass all the bathroom talk. “But check your email later. I’ll figure it out.”

Teddy took another bite of food and stifled a sigh. Her mother would figure it out; she always did. But this time, Teddy knew she needed to figure it out herself.