Page 34 of Years in the Making

I made things weird, didn’t I? Is it too late to unsend? Can you pretend you never read that?

Depends, is it the berries that do it or the thought of me?

I can see him typing and then stopping, clearly struggling with finding the right words.

It’s always you.

It’s always you. Never have three words caused all the oxygen to leave my body before now.

Too forward?

No, just the right amount. Night, EG xx

Night, LG

Teddy and I follow the same kind of schedule for the next month. We both get even busier with work but always find a way to see one another no fewer than four times a week, which never feels like enough.

“Six weeks,” he says, after kissing me hello outside the raptor center one evening.

I quickly do some mental calculations. “You’re right, although it feels like longer.” I can tell he isn’t sure if I mean that in a good or bad way. “In a good way,” I add, kissing him for a bit longer this time.

We’re still taking things slowly. I’d slept with my ex by six weeks, multiple times. But there is just something about Teddythat makes me want to savor the build-up to that moment. I don’t want to rush a thing. At least my heart and mind are on the same page. It turns out that my body is very impatient.

“You must be Teddy.” My mom’s voice has me jumping back and stepping in front of him defensively. I have no idea why this is my reaction, she’s harmless. “Or at least I hope you are.”

My mom ignores my stance, passing right by me and pulling Teddy in for a hug. He’s about a foot taller than her and smiles brightly at me over her head. At least one of us is chill.

“What are you doing here, Mom?” I stammer.

“Your father left his reading glasses on his desk.” She rolls her eyes.

I narrow mine. “Dad has like thirteen pairs of reading glasses. And at least two in his car.” I know this because every time he loses a pair he buys another at the drugstore and inevitably finds his old pair within fifteen minutes of making the purchase.

As if on cue, I hear my dad yell. “I found them, ducky,” he calls from beside the car where he’s standing, waving a pair of glasses above his head.

“Oh, well, would you look at that?” Mom says innocently. “Although, now that we’re all together, how would you like to go get some dinner with us? That way we can get to know Teddy here.”

I immediately try to think of an excuse why we can’t do that while Teddy says, “That would be great.”

She clasps her hands and beams. “Wonderful. Why don’t you two finish up whatever it is you were doing, and we’ll head to Norm’s. Do you like gastropub food, Teddy?” Mom asks, looking concerned.

“I love all food, Mrs. Woodcroft.”

“Oh no, please call me Jean,” she insists.

Teddy nods. “We’ll see you in a bit, Jean.”

I watch as my mom practically skips back to the car. Both my parents wave as they drive away, and I release the groan I’ve been holding in since I heard her voice.

“I’m so sorry about that,” I say, taking Teddy’s hand and leading him into the center. “My dad said he was leaving early today, and I guess I was a bit too enthusiastic about it. He’s usually not that perceptive.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’ve wanted to meet your parents.”

“Why?” I laugh, looking back at him.

He pulls me back to him and wraps his arms around me. “Why wouldn’t I want to meet your parents? They made you.”

I stare up at him, waiting for a punchline that doesn’t come. “Can I see your ID?”

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