Page 9 of Rules in Love
“Hello, Teddy. Who are we complaining about tonight?”
“Shut up and listen. Guess who I’m with. Go on. Guess.”
“Ummm, Harry Styles?”
“Pfftt, I wish. If I was with Harry, do you think I’d be on the phone with you? Stop wasting my time and guess again.”
“Geez. Don’t get so pissy. Ugh, I don’t know. Asher, that waiter from M.I.X.?
“No! Again, I wouldn’t be calling you if it was Asher. Also, he’s the owner, not a waiter. It’s…Finn Austen. I am at an Aussie pub on Bleecker, drinking beer with Finn bloody Austen!”
“What the hell, Theodore?! I swear to God, if you say anything to embarrass me, I will kill you.”
Evil cackles rattled down the phone, but only briefly. He soon began whispering so quietly I could hardly hear him. “Oh, he’s coming back. I’ll stay on the phone but put you on my lap so you can hear, okay?”
“Teddy! No!” It was too late. I heard a muffled voice with an Australian accent approach, then a few bumps and thumps as he sat back at the table. Why on earth I didn’t hang up is anybody’s guess, but it may have had something to do with my earlier comment about my phone and its vibrations. Background chatter and music made some things inaudible, but Teddy swooning and flirting his ass off was clear. Then, just as I took a sip or several of my sweet fragrant rosé, I heard, “So, tell me again, Finn Austen, super hunk from Down Under. What do you think about—”
“Mummm!”
“Wait, Ben!” I screamed as panic filled me to my very core. Shit, did Teddy say my name? Did he? “What did you say, Ted? What did you say?”
In my panic, I dropped the phone. It took three fumbled attempts to get the damn thing back up against my ear. When I eventually did, I wished I hadn’t.
“To be honest, not much. Too pale and flat for me. I like a thicker, fuller body.”
What the actual fuck?
“Really? That’s disappointing. I really thought you’d be into—”
“Mummmmmm.”
“What? What? What?” Again, my phone tumbled from my grasp. I jumped to my feet to attend to my screaming child. My butter fingers retrieved the phone from the floor, but Teddy was gone. I could hardly go and ring back, so with my phone gripped tightly in my hand, I checked on Ben, assured him there were no flying monkeys in his room or in New York, and then sat on the edge of my bed for an hour, bordering on hurling and waiting for Teddy to call back.
I woke to my shrieking alarm at six am, face-down, sideways, with my head hanging over the edge of the mattress. It must have been the last position I was in when I fell asleep…or suffered a rosé-related collapse. Judging by the empty bottle at my feet and the pounding of my head, I gathered it was the latter.
Damn it. Teddy didn’t call me back.I yawned, and stretched, my muscles aching from my awkward sleeping arrangement. Yoga was what I needed, but not what I did. I fell back asleep and was woken an hour and a half later by Ben sticking a wet finger in my ear and screaming, “WET WILLY!”
“An American custom?” I asked as my face screwed up like I’d sucked a lemon.
“I dunno. It’s funny, though, isn’t it?” His annoyingly cute giggle made me smile when I didn’t want to. “Are we late, Mum? We might be because I saw Mrs. Horowitz walking her cats, and I only see her does that when we are late.”
Yes, my neighbor walked her cats. Not on leashes or anything. That would be weird. She did it in a pram. “Shit! Yes. If you saw Mrs. Horowitz, we are late. And Ben, we say ‘do that’. You saw her do that, not does that.”
“I saw her do what?” Ben asked, his head turning from side to side in confusion, much like Mrs. Horowitz’s hairless cat, Brutus, did when she talked to him like a person.
“Oh, forget it. Just go get dressed, and I’ll make us breakfast.”
Knowing my darling son could take ten minutes to put on a sock, I snuck in a thirty-second shower and dressed, then hit the kitchen.Okay, we have half a red pepper, some leftover Shepherd’s pie, a brown thing with a weird odor, and stale Captain Crunch. Cereal it is. Oh, but there’s no milk. Hmm. This is bad. I’m failing adulting.
As the mum guilt kicked in, the doorbell rang three times, and Teddy and his trademark patchouli, cedar, and bergamot scent burst through the door. “My darling, why do you insist on buzzing if you’re going to invite yourself in anyway? Also, please tell me you brought food.”
“You know I like to make an entrance, Scar. And yes, I did. I have coffee, bagels, salmon, cream cheese, some fruit, and a doughnut for Ben. I figured the banana would balance out the doughnut.”
“Ughhh, you could give him a bowl of sugar cubes in battery acid this morning, and I would be okay with it. Well, maybe not the acid.” It was then, after the food was in my possession, that I remembered I very much hated Theodore Digby. In the grouchiest voice I could muster, I lethargically slapped his arm repeatedly. “Why the hell didn’t you call me back? I waited for hours.”
“You did not! I did call you back. Several times. Check your phone, Sleeping Wino—Beauty.”
Confident I would find no missed calls, I swiped my screen, saw five, then told Teddy my phone was dead, and put it on the charger before he could see my lies.
