Page 160 of Pucking Strong

This admonishment from this five-year-old stings worse than any questions about me leaving ever could. Deep down, I know it’s the same reason my family is still so upset with me. They’re worried about my choices, sure. And they’re right to be worried. I was emotional, irrational, and rash—all my worst traits—multiplied by, like, a thousand.

But I’m also their Teddy. They fed me, raised me, helped me with my homework, got me to swim meets and track practice. They went to every graduation, every award ceremony. Then I go and get married, and I don’t even send them a picture. I don’thavea picture. I just had a spouse they’d never met and a faxed copy of a marriage certificate in Swedish.

I denied them all something critical. I denied them the chance to support me, cheer for me, love me out loud. And I’m not alone. Henrik did the same thing. His parents understand. They wished us well in their way. But Karro? The girl who loves princesses, and dresses, and happily-ever-afters? The girl who picked flowers with her mom and still believes the world is bright and perfect? She had a dream too, a dream of being the flower girl at Henrik’s wedding.

We took that from her.

“Let me talk to Morbror,” I whisper, not sure what else to say. “We’ll fix it, okay?”

She doesn’t answer. She’s already fading, her eyelids fluttering, heavy with sleep.

Clicking off her twinkle lights, I slip from her room. But I don’t go in search of Henrik. Instead, I take my phone from my pocket and head out to the balcony. I dial Shae’s number and wait as it rings. I would understand if she didn’t take my call.

She finally picks up on the fourth ring. The line is quiet as weconnect. Then comes a voice I know as well as my own. “You got something to say to me?”

Sinking down onto the deck chair, I hold the phone to my ear. “Shae, I’msosorry.”

“For what?”

I frown down at the ground. “For … god, everything.”

She sighs. “That’s not how this works. You can’t just go passing out sorrys like they’re candy and expect us to tell you they taste sweet.”

“I know.”

“Well, so try again.” She waits, not hanging up on me, not yelling.

Folding myself forward, my elbows on my knees, I groan. “Okay, well, can I at least tell you what happened at my wedding?”

She’s quiet for a moment. Finally, she extends the olive branch I know I don’t deserve. “What happened?”

I take a deep breath let it out, and start talking a mile a minute, spilling out all the truth I’ve kept bottled up for weeks. “Oh god, Shae, it was a disaster. First of all, I was wearing a T-shirt and athletic pants. At my wedding.”

She gasps. “No.”

“Yes! Shae, I had zippers at my ankles. And I needed my something old, new, borrowed, and blue, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Yeah, so I tried to steal a blue ink pen from this secretary, but then he caught me. He was super nice and actually let me borrow his dad’s old watch too. And did I mention the whole thing was in Swedish?”

Her side of the line crinkles and I’m sure she’s opening a bag of chips. She likes to snack while she’s on the phone. “Swedish, huh? So, you might have signed away all your organs or something.”

“That’s exactly what I said! Right after I freaked out and called the officiant a Swedish C-3PO.”

She laughs. “A C-what? Ted, start from the beginning.”

This time, I do. I start over, and I start from the beginning. Therealbeginning. I start from the moment I was walking down the sidewalk six years ago, checking our group text on my phone. I start from the moment I first met Henrik. And I leave nothing out.

Teddy’s been outside on the phone for the last two hours. He started sitting on the chair. Then he took to pacing. I can’t hear him through the glass. He’s equal parts animated and reserved, sometimes gesturing wildly with his free hand, sometimes sitting quietly, nodding as the other person speaks.

Who is he talking to? Someone from his family? I hope he can mend those fences. It’s clear how much they care for him. Even clearer that they care not at all for me. In fact, it’s safe to say they hate me. Perhaps I have some grace left with the husbands. But his sisters? His mother? I imagine they’d all like to see me cast into the fiery pit.

I try to keep myself busy while he’s outside, checking Karro’s progress reports from Mr. Torres and answering the pile of emails from Laura and Elin. Laura has new endorsement deals for me to consider, and Elin did some research on elderly care facilities.

Even after his fall from the ladder, Dad is still being resistant to any change. He doesn’t want more help, and he definitely doesn’t want to move. He’s afraid moving Mom will mean he loses her faster. She has so many memories rooted to that house and the land. Some days, the familiarity of her kitchen and her garden is all that keeps her grounded.

The instability of their situation eats at me night and day. I’m afraid the decision will fall to me and I’ll have to enforce it with aniron hand. I want to be ready. I’m scrolling the website of an assisted living facility when Teddy comes back in. “All good?” I call.

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