On the sidewalk outside the Imagination Network building, Astrid ran through what had just happened.
“That was a good meeting,” she said.
“Yeah,” Everett said, stunned.
“A really good meeting.”
“Yeah,” he repeated.
“Everett, this is . . . happening. The show. The Imagination Network.” She leaned in and stared at him. “Why don’t you look excited?”
Everett shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m excited. Really. I just . . .”
He thought about what Natalie had said, about how there had to be more to life than work, about how maybe he could give work 50 percent instead of 100 percent. He hadn’t really understood her at the time, but now . . .
He thought about Astrid and Jeremy, how he’d been working with them for so long and how he’d be working with all-new people when the show was in New York. He thought about Jeremy working on some other show if he wasn’t around. He thought about Gretel and the way he’d changed his life to stay home with her once before, the way she’d cried and hugged him when she said she didn’t want him to move. He thought about his parents and how, as the saying goes, they weren’t getting any younger.
He thought about all the kids he could reach with a national show. All of the families he could influence, the emails he could answer, the feelings he could explain.
And then he thought about Teddy. Her laugh and her smile and her. The way that if he really did this, if he really moved, he didn’t know if things between them could ever be fixed.
“Hey, Astrid,” he said, suddenly calm, “do you think we can go back up there? I have something I need to ask them.”
63
The next evening, Teddy was working at the store. Josie was at home and recovering, which mostly meant a lot of grumbling whenever Teddy or Carlos reminded her that she needed to rest. Cold rain poured down outside, plastering the dead leaves onto the sidewalk and making Colossal Toys seem that much cozier. Thanksgiving was in a couple of days, and the holiday break combined with the bad weather meant that the shop was empty as Carlos restocked shelves and Teddy stared out the front windows from her place behind the cash register.
Normally, with no one to help and Carlos preoccupied, she would pull up an episode of Everett’s Place, but obviously that wasn’t a comfort for her anymore. That might’ve been the worst part of this whole situation—that her ultimate security blanket was now gone forever.
Or maybe it was that Everett had become her human security blanket, and now he was gone, too.
A man who looked like Richard cupped his hands around his face and peered into the shop. Teddy smiled thinking about how strange it would have been if Richard ever showed up at Colossal Toys, then stood up straight when the man walked in and she realized he was Richard.
“I see a smile on your face!” he said. “That has to be a good sign!”
Teddy frowned. “What are you doing here?”
Richard looked flustered, as if he’d expected a different response. “I came to see you. What else would I be doing here?”
“But you’ve never come to the shop,” Teddy said, confused. “Not when we were together. Not even when I asked you to. You said there was nothing here an adult man should ever need to buy.”
Teddy heard Carlos drop a box and curse quietly, but she kept her eyes on Richard.
Richard sighed. “Well . . . I was wrong. What else do you want me to say? I came to see you because I didn’t want to leave things the way we left them after our phone call. And also my doorbell camera saw you toilet-papering the town house.”
Teddy paled. She’d forgotten about the doorbell camera.
“Don’t worry. I’m not mad,” Richard said, smiling magnanimously. “I paid the neighbor’s kid to clean it up. And I know it wasn’t your idea.”
“How do you know that?” Teddy asked.
“I should’ve asked your friends to come clean it up,” Richard muttered.
“It was my idea,” Teddy said so loudly that she was practically shouting.
“What?”
“I instigated the toilet-papering,” Teddy said. “And I’m not sorry. We all agreed it was an improvement. Why are you here, Richard? Are you hungry? Because this street is lined with restaurants and I’m happy to give you a recommendation. Go get some chicken fingers at Raising Cane’s. I know you like chicken fingers.”
“I didn’t come here to argue, Teddy,” Richard said. “I came here to tell you that I love you.”
Teddy stared at Richard, the silence between them growing into something so awkward that it was no longer even awkward anymore. And that was when the door burst open.
“I ran here,” Everett said, out of breath and dripping wet. “From the parking garage. Do you know how hard it is to find parking around here? I mean, of course you know. But I’m here and I wanted to tell you . . . Oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something?”
Teddy’s shock at seeing Everett was quickly overrun by her shock at seeing Richard and Everett standing directly beside each other, a situation she had never expected to happen. She realized that neither knew who the other was—Everett had never seen a picture of Richard, and Richard didn’t know she’d dated anyone since they’d broken up.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, but her voice didn’t sound anything like it had when she had asked Richard the same thing. Gone were the sharpness, the annoyance . . . Now, the words barely came out in a whisper. The moment she saw Everett, before his presence had fully registered, she’d already felt like she was floating, the same way she always did when she saw him.
“We’re kind of in the middle of something,” Richard cut in, looking Everett up and down with a scowl. “If you don’t mind.”
Everett narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Is this . . . ?” He looked at Teddy for confirmation.
“Richard, Everett. Everett, Richard,” Teddy said.
“Oh, bud,” Everett said, “you should really not be here right now. What, did you remember something shitty you forgot to say when you and Teddy were dating?”
“And who are you?” Richard asked.
“I’m Everett St. James and I’m in love with Teddy. And I came here to talk to her, not deal with some bro in . . . in . . . loafers,” Everett said in disgust.
Richard pushed his shoulders back and stared up at Everett, his mouth arranged in what Teddy thought was supposed to be a snarl. “Excuse me? I don’t really think you should be criticizing someone else’s clothing. You’re wearing a soaking-wet cardigan.”