Interpretive Hearts

by Amanda Meuwissen

  They wouldn’t be friends, they wouldn’t be anything worth cultivating, just neighbors who occasionally waved in passing at the supermarket.

  Teddy even went onto the beach, using the excuse of taking a walk to confirm that Finn wasn’t simply home and avoiding him, but all he saw was Nora, jumping and barking excitedly at him through the glass of the patio doors. Now he was just being pathetic and had riled up Finn’s dog for nothing.

  After waving limply at Nora, Teddy turned back the other way, annoyed enough by the sand getting into his sandals that he stepped into the surf to let the water wash it away.

  He’d forgotten how that made things worse walking back through the sand to get to the house, because now that he was wet, the sand clung to him in heavy clumps. He’d have to hose his sandals off later, but for now, he left them on the patio.

  He really hated the beach.

  Teddy’s phone was ringing when he got inside, and he rushed to grab it from where he’d left it on the kitchen island. He knew it wouldn’t be Finn, but it wasn’t Rick or Erina for once either.

  “Hello, Mother,” he answered.

  “Hello, sweetheart. Is now a good time?”

  “Always for you.”

  “You’re not upset I waited so long to check in, are you? I know how you like your space, and the surgery was a tough blow, don’t try to act otherwise.”

  “It was, and I appreciated the space, but it’s good to hear your voice.”

  “You sound sad. Still adjusting or is it something else?”

  Someone else, she didn’t say, but Teddy guessed Erina had informed her about Finn.

  “Tell me about it, dear. Let me help if I can.”

  Laverne Scofield was a force of nature. She’d been a working single mother ever since kicking Teddy’s father to the curb over twenty years ago. She’d also been the biggest proponent of Teddy’s dance career.

  Even though his perfectionism may have come from his father’s berating and belittlement throughout childhood, his devotion to dance had been one big middle finger when Edmund Senior’s last words to him were: “Should have known you’d be a queer.”

  Settling onto one of the stools, Teddy told his mother everything. About how he and Finn met, the physical therapy, Smudge and Nora, all the ways their lives crossed in that small beach town, even down to them having the same taste in movies.

  He didn’t mention specifics about Finn’s drunken confession; what happened to his parents was personal, something for Finn to share with people he trusted, not for Teddy to broadcast, but he explained the pain Finn had revealed to him that had driven them apart.

  “So, that’s it?” Laverne said when he was finished. “You’re giving up?”

  “He broke things off. He canceled today’s appointment. He doesn’t want to see me.”

  “Sounds more like he’s hurting, even self-destructive. Like someone else I know when they’re too hard on themselves.”

  Teddy smiled. For how opposite he and Finn could be, they did have a striking amount in common.

  “Teddy Bear,” she said, bringing out a rarely used nickname—at least since Teddy had grown beyond single-digits, “I’ve never heard you speak of a boy you liked with so much passion. I know how difficult it’s been for you to find a good man, to trust the right ones, to trust anyone. You’re at a crossroads, and that can be a good thing, the chance to do some things differently than you’ve ever allowed before. Finn sounds like someone worth taking a chance on.”

  “But what if—”

  “If he rejects you again, that’s his choice, but it doesn’t sound like he’s pulling away because of you. Give him another chance. Don’t you owe that to yourself? I’ll answer for you: you do. Don’t hold back now just because things got difficult.”

  Once, that would have been an exact phrase he’d use on his students. Teddy Scofield was not a coward, not any more than his mother had ever been.

  “You’re right.”

  “Of course I am. Now, you head right next door and—”

  “Mother, I need to think this through. But I’m not giving up.”

  “That’s my boy.”

  Storming next door was not the way. Teddy had to be calculating, careful, tackle this problem like a difficult dance move, with patience and precision. He just had no idea how yet.

  Later, he was so up in his head, thinking of his options, that he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to what he was doing—while chopping vegetables for dinner.

  “Fuck,” he hissed when he took out a chunk of his thumb. “Shit, shit….”

  Smudge squeaked at him plaintively, since it was his dinnertime, too, but Teddy had to ignore him, hurrying to the sink to rinse his stinging wound and wrap it as best he could. The chunk was still attached but not by much.

  “Sorry, buddy, I think dinner requires a detour.” And talking to Finn in any capacity would have to wait.

  He dumped the vegetables in the trash, put away everything else, and gave Smudge dry food to tide him over. He could have his wet food later. Teddy had to drive himself to the hospital.

  At least there he wouldn’t have to worry about running into Finn or any of his friends before he was ready—he thought foolishly until a familiar voice called his name.

  “I was about to clock out for the day, but for you, Teddy, I figured I could make an exception.”

  Rose—the nurse—in scrubs a deep burgundy instead of the seafoam green from the health center. Teddy should have known.

  “Before you ask,” he said once they were back in the exam room, “it was sheer distraction and stupidity while making dinner.”

  “No judgment here. Let’s take a look.”

  Teddy needed stitches, only four, but that would still make everyday chores a pain for a while, which was difficult enough with his hip. At least it was his left hand.

  “No knife work or operating heavy machinery while distracted and stupid,” Rose chided good-naturedly as she wrapped his thumb. “Would the cause of either of those things have anything to do with what had Finn moping all weekend?”

  “He was moping?”

  “Vegging around the house pathetic. I expect that this time of year, but with you, I hoped he might get out of his funk a little sooner. Did he get the chance to tell you about any of it?”

  “More like word-vomited all over me. Thankfully, despite how trashed he was running around on the beach that night, no actual vomit followed.”

  “Oh God, seriously? Is that why you didn’t go on your date? He wouldn’t give me a straight answer. I should have known he’d get weird like this given the time of year, but that’s all it is—bad timing. You know what”—she stood abruptly after securing his gauze—“you’re coming home with me.”

  “Uh… little old to be adopted, don’t you think?”

  “Finn is coming over for dinner.” She grabbed Teddy’s wrist to tug him off the exam table. “And so are you.”

  “Oh, I’m not sure ambushing him—”

  “It’s not an ambush, it’s… group therapy.”

  Teddy snorted.

  “Unless you’re really not interested and would rather end things here.” Rose let his wrist go but hovered near the door expectantly.

  It wasn’t a careful, calculated plan, but it sounded better than going home to ruined dinner alone with Smudge.

  “Why not?” Teddy said, feeling braver after his mother’s pep talk and yet another chance encounter. “But we’re stopping at the pharmacy to refill my pain meds before this numbness wears off.” He waved his bandaged hand at her.

  “Just give me ten minutes to change and hand in your file, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

  ROSE and Blaise had a lovely home, near the beach but not directly on it like Teddy and Finn.

  Finn, who was about to be ambushed, because that’s what this was no matter what Rose said.

  There was nothing quite as nerve-wracking as showing up to a party uninvited, even if Teddy had been invited by so
meone and it wasn’t a party. Still, Finn’s face when Teddy entered the kitchen behind Rose was not encouraging.

  “Teddy,” he said like the air had rushed out of his lungs. It had certainly rushed out of Teddy’s.

  Finn looked incredible in a long-sleeved black shirt. Why had Teddy never considered how good he would look in black? Why was Finn allowed to look that good despite being startled and wary and clearly upset with his sister’s audacity?

  “Hi!” Blaise cried with exaggerated exuberance, also quite handsome considering the last time Teddy had seen him he’d been in an apron. “It’s good to see you again. Are you joining us for dinner?”

  “Rose insisted after I ruined my own dinner plans.” Teddy raised his bandaged thumb.

  “Oh my God.” Finn’s disapproval vanished in lieu of concern. “What happened to your hand? Did you need stitches?” He flew to Teddy’s side to take his wrist and inspect his thumb like he’d been compelled by a force entirely outside his control.

  Teddy’s heart trip-hammered at the contact, which was ridiculous when Finn touched him all the time, had touched him just last Friday at their appointment, but that had been necessity, not compulsion.

  “Who would have guessed your sister would be the one to sew me up? Actually, I should have. This town is incessantly small.”

  Finn laughed, then seemed to realize he was holding Teddy’s hand and shrank away. “I, uh… heard about your car too. Why didn’t you mention it?”

  “Didn’t seem important.”

  “I guess there were worse things.” Finn glanced away.

  “Finn….”

  “Why don’t you two set the table?” Rose came forward when Teddy trailed off. “I’m starved. Thanks for making dinner, sweetie.” She turned to Blaise to kiss his cheek.

  Blaise grinned like they were still in their courting days. “Finn helped too.”

  Unfortunately, Rose’s ploy to get them alone while setting the table only amounted to small talk.

  “How’s your car?”

  “How did you get that cut?”

  “Did Erina make it back to the city okay?”

  With the last one, Teddy had to remind Finn that they’d already discussed that on Friday—during another round of stilted small talk when the silence had stretched too long. This was Teddy’s chance, likely his last chance before things between them became irreparably damaged. If Teddy wanted to get Finn to drop the walls he’d erected, he needed to push harder.

  “Was today the same emergency patient as Friday?” Teddy asked once they were seated at the table. It sat four but could accommodate more with an extended leaf. As it was, Teddy and Finn sat kitty-corner as a delicious-smelling chicken piccata was served.

  “Yes,” Finn said with a groan, twisting his pasta around his fork. At least Teddy could tell it hadn’t been a made-up excuse. “She’s recovering from back surgery, and I am totally sympathetic, but she is getting chronic now with the tiny little things she comes in for. I’m trying to ease her mind and ease her off thinking she needs a checkup every time she feels a twinge, but she’s this super sweet old lady without any family and—”

  “And Finn is a pushover,” Rose said.

  “She’s seventy-five!”

  They all laughed, and Teddy had to comment, “Ignoring HIPAA again, are we?”

  “Technically not a violation unless I give identifying information about the patient,” Finn said with practiced ease. “Did I say she? Coz I meant them.”

  They laughed again. Finn was so charming without trying, especially when he was relaxed. That part of him wasn’t fabricated; he just had sorrow in him that crept up from time to time. Teddy liked knowing that, because it rounded Finn out as someone real and within his grasp, if only he could convince him to give this another try.

  “I hope you shared those cupcakes,” he said. “Or did you hoard them all to yourself?”

  Finn waved frantically beside his plate as if trying to get Teddy to backtrack.

  “Um….”

  “Cupcakes? From where?” Blaise zeroed in on Teddy.

  “We don’t talk about outside baked goods in this house,” Finn said in an over-the-top whisper.

  “I’m not jealous.” Blaise balked in a way that betrayed his lie. “I’m curious.”

  “A friend from the city sent them to me,” Teddy explained. “He has celiac disease, so everything he makes is gluten free.”

  “Those were gluten free? Wow.” Finn jumped when Blaise’s attention snapped to him. “I mean, they were fine. You never make gluten free anyway. You always say it’s impossible to get things moist enough.”

  “It is! Or it’s supposed to be….” Blaise trailed off with a grumble.

  “You and Dan will have to meet sometime,” Teddy said. “Should be entertaining. You’ll either claw each other’s eyes out or get along like gangbusters.”

  That teased out a smile again—from Blaise and Finn.

  “When theater season calms down for his husband, I’m sure they’ll be out to visit. Tell me, Blaise, only sensitive about outside baked goods around your loved ones? You don’t mind Finn cooking for your wife on their sibling nights?”

  “Oh, Finn doesn’t count.”

  “Thanks?” Finn shot him a funny look.

  “You know what I mean. The way to anyone’s heart is through their stomach, but you’re not exactly a threat. She’s your sister!”

  “Honey,” Rose said with a judging head tilt, “a married gay man who lives in the city and sent Finn’s neighbor cupcakes isn’t going to steal me away either.”

  “I know, I just like being everyone’s main sugar supplier,” he said like it was something illicit—and considering how addictive sugar was, it really should be.

  “Blaise”—Teddy stole his attention again—“I vow to you now, you will be my main supplier from now on whenever I need a fix. But when Dan visits, I will disavow all knowledge of your existence.”

  The table erupted into laughter again.

  “In all seriousness, you don’t mind missing movie night?” Teddy asked.

  “Not for those movies. I mean, I like action and cheesy ridiculousness fine, but I can also live without it.”

  “His one flaw,” Rose said dreamily. “Thankfully, I still love him.” She leaned over the corner of the table to kiss him soundly on the mouth.

  They were very cute, natural, the kind of easy couple everyone not in a relationship hated—just like Rick and Dan. Teddy knew he probably looked at their interaction with more longing than he should have, but then he soon felt eyes on him, and there was only one person they could belong to.

  Finn dropped his gaze to his food when Teddy glanced over. His smile was gone now, replaced with more of that sadness. Teddy wasn’t sure if pushing further was worth it if Finn was intent on ending things. He had to accept Finn’s wishes, whatever they may be; he’d just hoped Finn would change his mind like Frankie and Rose had hoped too.

  Once they’d finished eating, Teddy tried to help clear the table, but Rose told him to stay put. They’d have coffee and dessert soon, and as the guest, he was meant to be served.

  Blaise got a phone call, a supplier for his bakery, so he took it upstairs, while Rose and Finn went into the kitchen to put everything away. It wasn’t long before Teddy got antsy, afraid he’d run for the door if left to his thoughts for too long, so he wandered out of the dining area into the living room.

  It was homey, warm, all plush furniture and photographs, not bare and artsy the way Teddy kept things. As he moved past the mantelpiece, he noticed it was filled with photographs from Rose and Blaise’s wedding from about five or so years ago, he’d guess, mostly just the two of them, their wedding party, and close friends and family.

  Which included Finn, very handsome in a tux. In several photos, there was another man with him, usually touching him, or Finn was hanging on to his arm. That had to be his boyfriend—now ex.

  Oliver.

  Teddy could admit the man was
attractive. Built. Blond. Steely. Like an underwear model. But then, Finn was equally as attractive in Teddy’s mind, if more lean than obvious muscle. Oliver had a look to him like he wasn’t comfortable smiling, like his natural state was surly, next to Finn’s blinding jubilance, preferring anonymity to goofing off in front of the camera.

  Maybe Finn had a type.

  Teddy couldn’t help but notice that Finn seemed happier in photos with just Rose and Blaise, though, or with other friends, always more strained when he was next to Oliver, like he’d already known back then that it wasn’t a relationship he wanted to last forever.

  A returning ex wasn’t what Teddy had to worry about, but he had plenty of other things standing in his way.

  “Maybe I am mad!” Finn’s voice carried from the kitchen.

  Through the dining room, the door kept out any sound, but now Teddy stood around the other side at the end of the living room and paused to listen.

  “You didn’t even warn me.”

  “You left me little choice with how you were brooding the past few days,” Rose said. “Why ruin things with Teddy before they’ve even started? You were so happy—”

  “I can’t, Rose. Not now. I shouldn’t have gone after him at all. I don’t even know him that well.”

  “Finn Archer, you said you had more chemistry with Teddy the first day you met than you ever felt with Oliver. Is that feeling gone?”

  “No,” Finn said quietly.

  “Then stop being an idiot.”

  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Why? Because he saw the real you?”

  “What if he’s just being nice?” Finn echoed what Teddy had been worried about far too many times lately.

  “He didn’t come to dinner just to be nice, Finn.”

  The pause that followed allowed Teddy to relax against the wall, a smile tugging at his lips with the rekindling of hope.

  “I’m not always a ray of sunshine,” Finn grumbled.