Seth: Sorry.
Teddy: He promised to visit me once she’s able to fly.
Seth: I didn’t know babies had wings and could fly.
Teddy: You’re not funny.
Seth: Fine, truthfully I had no idea there were any restrictions about flying or being around crowds when they’re that young.
Teddy: Me neither. But I can see Burke being an overprotective father too. He’ll wrap her in bubble wrap until she’s eighteen.
Seth: That wouldn’t surprise me. We’ll have to spoil our goddaughter.
Teddy: Do you want to have a family?
Seth: That’s a strange question.
Teddy: Why? We’re discussing a baby, it’s normal to ask if you plan on having some of your own.
Seth: Up until now I never thought about it.
Teddy: Do you?
Seth: Do you?
Teddy: You can’t copy my question.
Seth: I just did.
Teddy: I’d like an answer.
Seth: As I said, I never thought about it.
Teddy: But you have a big family with lots of cousins.
Seth: My parents only have three children. My aunts and uncles are the ones who popped out kids like bunnies.
Seth: At least, that’s what my father says.
Teddy: I shouldn’t complain. There are seven of us.
Seth: Would you want to have children?
Teddy: I always thought I would have at least a couple.
Seth: Not anymore?
Teddy: I might need to rethink my future.
Seth: Just remember everything is possible.
Teddy: I doubt it.
Seth: I’m right, and if I had time I would stay here chatting and trying to convince you otherwise. Unfortunately, I have to get ready.
Teddy: Stay safe and text me or email me when you can.
Seth: Email me even if I’m not around.
Teddy: I’ll try.
Seth: Love you.
Teddy: TTYS
Chapter Thirteen
Teddy
Throughout the day, I have different therapy sessions and therapists.
Once the cast comes off in two weeks, I’ll have a physical therapist too. When I signed up and looked at what the center had to offer, I never thought they’d cram almost all those activities into a day.
At six in the morning, I can choose between yoga, tai chi, or jogging. I don’t believe in running. Erase that. I hate it—unless I’m running for my life. Not that it worked the last time I had to do it.
Most days I choose tai chi since I’ve never practiced it before. It’s different from anything I’ve done, and not many residents attend it. Also, I can move without worrying about my broken arm. I doubt I can do a downward facing dog with one hand.
I call it a win-win.
After breakfast, I have my first therapy session, followed by support groups. Immediately after that, we head to crafts. There are several options. Every day I choose the same, knitting and crocheting. I’m learning to make crochet animals I can send to Matilda or her twin brothers. Zach and Autumn might not be happy when their house is filled with them, but I find the activity soothing.
Lunch is between eleven and one, followed by quiet time. Then I have a therapy session, another choice of crafts at three, followed by group exercise. After dinner, we have to visit yet another counselor.
Art therapy is my favorite. I get to create something while talking about my night, my day, or the days I spent in a cell: Cold, naked, and waiting to die. During the other sessions, there’s always silence. Maybe it’s because I can’t have a conversation, and I don’t have anything to distract me from our discussions.
So far, I haven’t made any friends.
Me, Theodora St. James, who can chat with everyone, is unable to say hello to any of the residents. The problem wasn’t only with those around me. When my family calls, I let them do all the talking. I exclaim at the right time and ask the right questions when needed.
My favorite calls are from Burke and Zach. They talk about their children. I adore my niece and nephew. And I should start counting Burke’s daughter as a little person. She should be arriving in a little less than three months.
Thankfully, none of them notice that I pretend everything is okay and I’m soaring in this environment. It’s all lies. I don’t know what I’m doing, the nightmares don’t stop, and I feel lonely. Too fucking lonely.
Seth hasn’t messaged me. He’s still off the grid or… I can’t even think of a good reason why he would ignore me. When my phone rings I answer immediately hoping it’s him.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hi, Teddy,” I sigh with relief when I hear Piper’s voice. It’s unexpected but welcomed.
The logical thing to say is how are you, but the first thing I say is, “Where are you?”
“Home,” she answers as if she’s been there since I left. “I heard what happened to you.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Her mom calls me often.
I need more details about her disappearance and what is a surprising reappearance. “What do you mean you’re home? Where have you been?”
“If I tell you I don’t know, would you believe me?”
“No.”
She scoffs. “I thought so. No one does.”
“Unless you were abducted by aliens, I wouldn’t believe it.”
“Aliens would’ve been better than what happened to me—imagine living in outer space for several weeks.” She tries to sound excited but fails to convince me that she’s okay.
“So you don’t know what happened to you.”
“That’s not what I said. I don’t know where I was taken after we were attacked at the bookstore.”
“What happened to you after you arrived in this unknown place? How did you escape? I saw you on the floor, calm, almost happy because you claimed he was coming for you. Later I thought you were dying.” I close my eyes, breathing with relief. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“This call is to check on you, not to discuss me.” She uses an uncharacteristically sharp tone. The one Archer used when the conversation was over.
“I’m fine. It’s your turn.” If she thinks I’m going to let this go, she’s wrong. I’ve been having nightmares about her. At the time, I thought we had lost her like we lost Archer.
“You’re not okay,” she insists.
“I don’t know what they told you, but they were all lies.”
“My cousin Gabe was there when you arrived at the hospital,” she argues.
I growl. She’s related to all of freaking Seattle, and its surrounding areas. Everyone knows something and the rumors among them spread worse than they do in a small town. “Well, then, you know what happened. Broken arm, shattered body, internal bleeding… did he say something else?”
No one knows everything. I’m not ready to tell them, not even Piper.
“What else did you expect him to say?”
“They told me—” I pause, take a deep breath, and I let the words out with my next exhale, “I might not be able to have children.”
“Oh, Teddy. I wish I had been there for you.”
There’s a long silence. That’s when it hits me what the renowned Dr. Decker did. “I can’t believe your cousin told you. He broke several laws. I could sue him.”