Page 53 of Years in the Making

“Nah, I think it was subtle enough to fly under the radar,” she says as another fit of giggles racks her body.

“He hasn’t looked at Tom or me since we arrived, by the way. That clumsy man only has eyes for your clumsy ass. So when he offers you his hand again, you better suck it up and take it,” she hisses as the guys get back sans dogs.

While Tom bends to help Izzy with the rest of the mess, Teddy once again holds out his hand, and this time I take it, although I do so reluctantly. His hands, once soft, are now rough with permanent calluses. Something I’d briefly noted as they glided across my skin a few months ago. Shivers spread through my body at the memory, and the minute I’m standing, I drop his hand.

An involuntary hiss leaves me as I take the first step. Teddy looks down at my jean-clad knee. “Sure you’re okay?”

“It’s just bruised.” I shrug as we make our way to the house. I bruise like a rotten peach if there’s a stiff breeze. I’m sure my knee is going to look like an eyeshadow palette exploded on it within the hour.

“I guess now we’re even,” he says when he opens the door and gestures for me to go first.

“How?” I ask, slipping my shoes off in the entry and heading straight to the sink to wash my hands.

“That day in the woods when I slipped and fell.” He holdsa towel out for me to dry my hands. “That remains the most mortifying moment of my life, but less so today.”

That day in the woods, out for an innocent hike that led to a first kiss that still lives in my head rent-free. Who has their first kiss in front of a waterfall, serenaded by birds and witnessed by no one else? Come the fuck on.

“Did you hit your head and forget the part where you also fell today?”

He shrugs and offers me a grin that shouldn’t make my knees as wobbly as they suddenly feel. “I can claim I was falling to make you feel better.” He used to make me feel better just by being there. Everything used to feel pretty great when Teddy was there. I miss him being there.

I was going to wait and figure out how to bring up the vibes we are giving off, but the words leave my mouth before I even think. “I want to be friends,” I blurt out.

“What?” Teddy asks, towel held out between us as I stand there staring at it, not at him.

“Or I want to pretend to be friends, or friendly at least.”

I take the towel, look up at him, and watch as he registers what I’m saying. “Okay,” He draws out the word, his right hand returning to his pocket while his left begins to fidget with the ring on his forefinger. It is an action that will always make me think of the train. “Why, exactly? I mean, why exactly do we have to pretend? Why can’t we just be friends?”

“Because I’m not ready for that yet.”We need to go slow, I think to myself. Where have I heard that before?

“And we are pretending to be friends for their benefit?” He points to the door.

“Comments have been made about our not-so-subtle avoidance of one another. And I don’t want to tell them why because I don’t want them to hate you the way I did for so long.”

“Do you still hate me?” He has stopped spinning the ring and has both hands in his pockets now.

I look up into those pale blue eyes, the same ones that captivated me so long ago. The only difference being the fine lines that have appeared at the corners. “No,” I admit quietly. “Hate is an exhausting emotion. I don’t know how I feel about you now, but I don’t hate you, Teddy.” Right now I feel a bit like I did all those years ago. I want to kiss him, but I also want to push him away and never see him again. I don’t feel equipped to deal with these emotions. Him leaving wasn’t like any other breakup. I didn’t know it was coming, there was no warning, and until a few of months ago, there was no reason. Twelve years is a long time to sit with heartache coated in questions.

“I’m sure she’ll make the salad again this summer, babe,” Izzy drawls as they come through the door. “Oh, sorry if we’re interrupting, I’ve just really gotta use the toilet.”

I drag my eyes from Teddy’s and watch as Izzy hustles to the hall bathroom and then looks back at Tom, who stands sheepishly in the entry staring at us while holding what remains of my bowl and salad.

“I’m not sure what to do with this,” he says, nodding down at his hands.

“Here.” Teddy pulls a garbage bag out of a cupboard and holds it open for Tom. “I’ll go through it later and separate the food from the bowl.”

“How green of you.” Tom grins, tipping everything into the bag.

“Have to balance with the number of balloons Cass is inflating in the barn. Speaking of balloons, I thought the kids were coming.”

“Izzy’s grandmother is over from Korea, so her parents thought it would be nice for them to spend some more time with her. Apparently they will be doing a lot of cooking.”

“That’ll be nice for them,” I say, bending to wipe up the drops of water that fell from my fingers while I stood awkwardly in front of Teddy. “Izzy has some great stories of cooking with her. Come to think of it, she’s got some good ones of cooking with her Polish grandmother too.”

“The woman can fold any kind of dumpling like a pro,” Tom tells us. “Anyway, I was thinking as we were cleaning this up, it’s a good thing you weren’t carrying the cake, eh?” His eyes widen comically at the thought.

“I’m not sure Izzy would have been laughing so hard about that,” I agree.

---