42

Teddy ended up having a wonderful afternoon at the zoo with Everett. They had the place to themselves, and it turned out that the reptile house was a surprisingly romantic spot for a make-out session (it was probably the dim lighting and the sense of contained danger created by all the snakes behind glass).

It was a relatively quick date, though, because Teddy had dinner plans with Josie that evening. Josie lived in a beautiful old house in German Village, one that was small but full of windows and surrounded by lush gardens, which of course were all dead in the fall. When Teddy let herself in, Josie’s three dogs bounded toward her. She’d stopped ringing the doorbell when Josie claimed it excited them, but Teddy didn’t really see the difference—either way they jumped all over her.

Not that she minded. “Oh, hi, Ralph,” she said, scratching the black-and-white mutt under his chin. Three tails thumped a comforting rhythm on the hardwood floor. “Maybe I need a dog.”

“Most people do,” Josie said, handing Teddy a glass of red wine. “But why stop at one when you can have three? That’s my motto.”

“Hear, hear,” Teddy said, clinking glasses with Josie before taking a sip. Josie’s wine was always fantastic, like everything in Josie’s life. Teddy walked to the dining room table, passing through the slightly cluttered but not messy living room. There were piles of books on every surface, an abundance of throw pillows, and a crackling fire in the fireplace. The local classical station, Classical 101, played quietly through the speakers like it did every time she came over. And as she sat down at the table, she saw the beautiful cloth napkins Josie always set out.

Teddy sighed with pleasure. “I hope someday I have a house exactly like this one,” she said wistfully as Josie sat down across from her.

Josie waved her off. “You mean a house covered in dog hair and full of book stacks that threaten to crush you at any moment? Here, have some wine-braised short ribs.”

Teddy gladly took some, adding some mashed sweet potatoes flecked with nutmeg and a green salad topped with pepitas and feta. “You’re such a good cook,” Teddy said as she took her first bite.

“That’s because I’ve had a whole lifetime to practice. Trust me, there were plenty of dud meals along the way. I once made a brisket that chipped John’s tooth.”

Teddy smiled as she chewed. “It’s nice to know you haven’t always been perfect.”

Josie laughed. “Please. My life has been nothing but a series of humiliations and failures that eventually led to accidental success. Speaking of success, how are things going with your cute new fella?”

Teddy swallowed. “The fella is good. We made out at the zoo today.”

Josie raised her eyebrows. “That’s it? Making out?”

Teddy frowned and took another bite. “I think they have rules about going further than that at the zoo. It’s a family establishment.”

Josie smiled. “We both know I didn’t mean at the zoo, but that’s fine. A lady never kisses and tells. And anyway, I didn’t ask you over here to grill you on your love life.”

Josie’s hands played with her napkin, and Teddy suddenly panicked. “Josie?” she asked, throat dry. “Is everything okay?”

Josie laughed. “Yes. I wanted to ask you something.”

Teddy took a nervous sip of wine.

“You know, although I obviously don’t look a day past thirty-five, I’m not quite as young as I used to be.”

“Rubbish,” Teddy said. “You have the spirit of a teenager.”

“And the bones of a seventy-year-old,” Josie said. “It’s becoming increasingly clear that I can’t run the shop forever, nor do I want to. I want time to finally read that ever-increasing book stack and to work more on my welding. And to work more on getting Herbert from welding class to pay attention to me.”

Teddy was now so uneasy, she couldn’t focus on Josie’s lustful welding comments. She felt dizzy and she didn’t think it was only because of the wine. “What are you saying? Are you closing the shop?”

Josie shook her head vigorously, her messy gray bun bouncing. “Absolutely not. But I wondered if you might like to take over.”

She said it so casually, as if she was inquiring whether Teddy might like to box up some of the leftover short ribs, that Teddy almost didn’t realize what she’d asked.

“But . . . you run the shop,” Teddy said slowly.

“Right.” Josie smiled gently. “But perhaps it’s time for me to retire now, while I still have my health. Maybe I could finally do all that traveling I’ve been talking about. You know, Eat Pray Love?”

“Why does everyone reference that book so often?” Teddy muttered.

“I prefer the movie,” Josie said with a wave of her hand. “I’ve always felt like I have a lot in common with that Julia Roberts. Great hair, great teeth.”

Teddy shook her head, eyes closed. “But, Josie . . . how could I take over the shop? I don’t know the first thing about running a business.”

“Well, neither did I when I started,” Josie said. “But I learned, and you could, too. You’re the perfect person to do it. You’re incredibly responsible, you never take a day off, and I happen to like you quite a bit.”

Teddy couldn’t stop herself from beaming. Praise from Josie, although it was generously and frequently doled out, still made her feel like a dog having its ears scratched.

But . . . being the one in charge? “What about Carlos?”

“I thought about Carlos,” Josie said, “but he’s so young. I can’t imagine he wants to saddle himself with a store.”

“I don’t know. This all sounds like too much.”

Josie looked at Teddy for a moment, then threw her napkin on the table. “Didn’t you say you wanted to do things that scared you? And haven’t you been taking chances, learning new things, meeting new people?”

Teddy nodded.

“Take some time to think about it. Whether you tell me yes or no, I won’t be hurt. But promise me that you won’t turn this down because you’re scared, okay?”

Teddy nodded again as she thought about it. Could she really own the business? If she ran Colossal Toys, no one could accuse her of wanting a small life or not having passion. You couldn’t run a business if you weren’t passionate about it, could you? And okay, so maybe she wouldn’t describe her feelings toward vintage toys as “passionate” at the moment, but she could start at “vague interest” and move up to “passion,” right?

But most important, if she had this job, then no one . . . not Richard, not her mom . . . could ever make her feel like she needed their help again. She’d be the one in charge.

Teddy bit her lip, thinking about the way she’d felt lately. Since she’d stood up there onstage at karaoke and looked out into the crowd, a little bit afraid but doing it, anyway. Since she’d gone out with Everett, even though she was terrified that he wouldn’t like the real her, the one who wasn’t sitting behind a computer screen and meticulously composing banter-y emails. She felt strong now, and bold, and . . . happy. She felt like a different person from the one she’d been with Richard, from the one she’d been for a very long time now.

“Okay,” Teddy promised, looking up to meet Josie’s gaze. “I’ll think about it.”