Interpretive Hearts

by Amanda Meuwissen

  “So? Who is? Who needs to be? Stop being such a hypocrite.”

  “I am being a hypocrite, aren’t I?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t when I moved here.”

  “Yep.”

  Teddy grinned at the clipped way Rose answered and understood why she and Erina had gotten along so well.

  “It was easier chasing Teddy when he kept playing hard to get. Stupid, I know, but now he’s chasing me, even after seeing me like that, and I… I am freaking myself out. I am so lame.”

  “No.” Rose giggled. “Well, yes. But all that matters is do you like him?”

  Teddy’s heart fluttered like when Finn had grasped his hand in the kitchen.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Hey, Teddy. Ready for dessert?” Blaise appeared, making Teddy’s heart flutter for a different reason, but he hadn’t been so loud as to draw attention from the kitchen.

  It was only moments later when they went back to sit at the table that Finn came in with a decadent-looking chocolate cake from Blaise’s bakery, and Rose asked, “How do you take your coffee, Teddy?”

  He couldn’t resist. “Got any ice cream?”

  “GUESS I’m a bad influence,” Finn said, following Teddy out to the porch after they’d finished dessert and their affogato, Blaise had informed them. Finn’s concoction had a name, though he’d seemed as surprised as Teddy to learn that.

  “Terrible. But it made for a better dessert. I’d offer you a ride home, only….” Teddy indicated both their vehicles in the driveway.

  “I promise I won’t race you,” Finn joked. He’d seemed more at ease ever since his conversation with Rose in the kitchen, but he was nervous now; Teddy could see it in the tension of his shoulders.

  He leaned against the railing of the porch beside Teddy, the evening calm and cool and lovely, though Teddy still preferred seeing Finn highlighted in moonlight glinting off water in the distance.

  “Listen, I swear I didn’t cancel our appointment today to avoid you. I really did have a patient emergency.”

  “I believe you. How about next time? Do you want to avoid me then?”

  Finn looked down, ashamed.

  “That is what you said, you know, drunk as you may have been.”

  “Huh?” Finn glanced up again.

  “You told me you weren’t going to avoid taking chances anymore, not when you really want something. Also”—Teddy leaned against the railing too, tilting his head close enough to see the freckles in Finn’s eyes from the light of the porch—“I never do anything just to be nice.”

  “Y-you heard all that?” Finn was so smooth usually that Teddy forgot how often he tripped over himself and showed insecurities, something Teddy had seen long before he’d known about Finn’s past.

  “I heard, and I agree with Rose,” Teddy said, “but only if you want me. If the baggage between us feels too heavy, then I get it. Funny thing about that, though, is I’ve heard it’s easier to carry baggage with help. Of course, I already have Smudge to fill that role, so—”

  Finn’s lips were on him so quickly, Teddy sucked in a breath, breathing in the aftertaste of chocolate and coffee, sweet and addictive enough that he opened his mouth for more—

  Just as Finn pulled away. “Shit, sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I—”

  “Finn,” Teddy said in a growl, though he let his actions show the gentleness of what he wanted, that he wasn’t angry, just eager.

  When Finn met his eyes, still ashamed and unsure, Teddy reached for his face, cupping his jaw and teasing fingers along the hairs at Finn’s neck. He felt Finn shiver, and that was enough to encourage him forward, stepping into Finn’s space and kissing him this time—bold, hungry. The taste of chocolate was stronger when their tongues met, exploring without holding back. Teddy had nothing to lose but what he’d already been denied, though he hoped Finn wouldn’t pull away again.

  After what seemed like minutes uninterrupted, just the slow motion of their mouths and Teddy’s thumb smoothing along Finn’s cheekbone, it was only when Finn clutched at Teddy’s shirt and whimpered that they parted for breath.

  “So,” Teddy said through an exhale, “about that date.”

  Finn’s giggle was answer enough, but Teddy only felt relief when he heard the words, “Okay. Wednesday after your appointment to make up for last week?”

  “Deal. We’ll call it a do-over.”

  The smile on Finn’s face banished all his demons. They still lurked, but they didn’t have to take center stage, and neither did any of Teddy’s.

  When Teddy walked down the stoop to his car, he felt a lightness in his step he hadn’t known in a long time, sore hip or otherwise. It was tempting to wait for Finn to get in his car as well, follow each other home, end up at one destination instead of two, but rather than spoil how perfect that moment had been by rushing this, Teddy drove away with Finn still staring after him.

  Chapter Six

  TEDDY stared in the mirror. He never thought he could fuss so much over what workout clothes to wear, but that’s what he needed for physical therapy, and afterward, he and Finn would be embarking on their first date.

  Finally.

  Sweats were not conducive to seduction, though. Teddy reminded himself that Finn had been plenty seduced even when carrying Teddy inside his house and for several sessions already with him in sweats, but today Teddy needed confidence that he was definitely lacking after noticing the way these particular sweats looked unfortunate in places.

  His immediate thought was to throw away the spray cheese.

  And no more ice cream in his coffee.

  It was silly to fret, because of course he’d put on weight when he wasn’t keeping up his old rigorous exercise routine combined with hours of dance every day. His eating habits didn’t help, but at his age, he was never going to be his old pants size again with ease.

  Unlike Finn, who was in his prime and absolutely flawless.

  No, Teddy was not going to ruin this with low self-esteem when he’d been given a second chance. He might not know what he wanted to do with his life, but if his free time was monopolized by Finn Archer for the foreseeable future, that was enough for now.

  He changed his sweats to something less formfitting, just in time for his phone to buzz with a text from Erina. He assumed it would be a teasing “good luck” since he’d told her about the date.

  I wasn’t going to ask, but the show is going so well. Will you come see it this weekend?

  Teddy’s stomach sank. She used to hate when he went to see her perform. She’d spent most of her career in neighboring cities to keep away from him and any snarky critiques he might offer, but now she was asking for him to be there. She either worried she wasn’t doing as well as she thought, felt truly proud of what she’d accomplished, or both.

  But how could Teddy go back when it had been so short a time since his “retirement”? Before casting, when Don Quixote was still just a planned part of the Spring Season, he was slated to do the choreography, but when his hip started bothering him, he passed it to Hartley.

  Erina had joked initially that maybe she’d finally come home for a show if he was taking a break. It hadn’t stayed just a break, though.

  I’m not trying to be mean, Teddy. I really want you to see it, she added when he stood there staring for a solid minute without replying.

  I’d love to, Teddy texted back, but I may need a doctor’s note for a plane ride with how my hip’s been behaving. Let me get back to you.

  A lie, which he knew was despicable, but he needed time to think this over. His hip had been feeling better with careful attention to his stretches and medications. His stitched-up thumb ached more than his hip most days. His hip wasn’t exactly improving, though, more just maintenance. If he was careful and diligent, it didn’t hurt, but that didn’t make it easier to do the things he used to do. Even a few months or years from now wouldn’t change that he’d never….

  He was
doing it again, right before getting in the car to see Finn. He had to stop. When everything else was finally going his way, why did he have to dwell on things he couldn’t change?

  A dull ache settled in his stomach where his nerves had been as he left the house and headed for the health center. Forcing a smile, he told himself to relax, enjoy the moment, remember that today, he got to bring Finn home with him.

  Then he got another text. From Hartley. It was like he’d known Erina had just invited him to the show. Maybe he had. Maybe he’d read it over her shoulder like a rat.

  Performances are going even better than rehearsals. They’re saying it’s the best show in years! I always forget how talented your sister is.

  As if to say Teddy wasn’t. He had half a mind to block Hartley’s number, but that would only let him win.

  It wasn’t that Hartley hated or disrespected Teddy; it was just the way things were in the theater and dance world in the city, something Rick always complained about, but such was the price they paid for good culture—snooty one-upmanship abounded.

  Teddy hated that he still missed it, even though he didn’t think it was possible to have the thrill he loved from that life and the relaxed sense of peace he felt living near the beach. He certainly couldn’t have it with his hip in its current state.

  “Everything okay?” Finn asked once they were headed into the back. “You’re not having second thoughts about tonight, are you?”

  “Not even a little, it’s….” Teddy sighed. No point in lying. “Erina.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “She invited me to see Don Quixote this weekend.”

  “Fun!” Finn spun about with his more common grin as they entered the exam room, and Teddy took up his spot on the table with another sigh. “Not fun?”

  “Difficult. More than it should be, going back for the first time as a spectator. I knew I would at some point, just not so soon.”

  The sympathetic smile that had gotten under Teddy’s skin a few times before reminded him now how much Finn cared. “At risk of sounding like a hypocrite again, you are allowed to not be okay. Especially this early in the healing process. Did you want a note to get out of going?” he said with a small smile, reading Teddy’s mind, but he couldn’t do that to Erina.

  “I’d be a coward and a terrible brother if I accepted that offer, tempted as I am. I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry. Like I said, you’re allowed.”

  Teddy smiled back at him, still feeling silly despite Finn’s understanding. “I suppose you’re used to sob stories.”

  “Well, yeah.” Finn settled in the chair at the desk, facing Teddy. “But it’s hard for me, too, when there’s someone I can’t help, or when how I can help isn’t what they think they need to be happy. Losing a limb or mobility, having chronic pain, so many of the things I deal with are a big part of a person’s identity, and people don’t handle losing control of their identity well.”

  “Like your father.” Teddy’s heart broke for Finn as soon as he said it, because that sorrow was bare and potent before Finn collected himself.

  “Yeah. I’m still sorry I—”

  “It’s fine. Really. I’m glad I was there when you needed someone to listen.”

  Teddy had read between the lines of what Finn said that night, and part of him wondered if his father had killed himself, if he’d even had help. Teddy couldn’t imagine what that must have been like for him after already losing his mother.

  He would have been angry and sad and confused, and now, as an adult looking back, he wanted to understand while still feeling all those same emotions.

  “Thank you,” Finn said earnestly. “You know, that might be the toughest part of my job, recognizing that sometimes I can’t save everyone. It’s hard knowing I can’t always make a difference no matter how much I try.”

  That was probably the most vulnerable thing Finn had yet shared with him, which made it easy to reply, “You make a difference with me.”

  There came the sunshine again with the creases of Finn’s dimples. “Come on. We have to get some work done if we’re going to earn our date. You sure you don’t mind waiting for me after? Frankie’s my last patient, but that’s still another hour—”

  “Actually, I have an idea about that.” An idea that had struck Teddy just that moment.

  “Oh?”

  “I’ll tell you when we’re done.”

  They kept the exam short to get to Teddy’s exercises, making good time once they were in the workout room, but even so, Frankie came in before Teddy was finished, obviously showing up early now to see him.

  Instead of saying hello, Teddy called out loud enough for both Finn and Frankie to hear, “How about I help Miss Nutcracker with her PT today?”

  “What?” Finn blinked in confusion.

  “I’m not ready to dance now,” Frankie sputtered in equal shock.

  “Ever hear the expression ‘sometimes you need to run before you can walk’?” Teddy rolled to his feet, abandoning his last set of exercises to approach her.

  She grabbed on to the bars of the walking station but seemed hesitant to let her crutches fall.

  “Is that why you keep talking about The Nutcracker?” Finn turned to Teddy with a creeping smile. “You’re going to teach Frankie to dance?”

  The poor kid looked caught between being terrified and elated.

  “We’ll start small,” Teddy said.

  There were two obvious first steps in any dancer’s repertoire that would be beneficial to someone still learning their balance. Teddy moved to be in front of the walking station, motioning for Frankie to come closer at his right.

  “Lose the crutches. You can do what I’m about to teach you without them. If you start to fall—”

  “You’ll catch me?”

  “No”—Teddy scowled—“you can grab on to the bar behind you. Grab me and I’ll go down with you.”

  Frankie smirked.

  “You too, Finn. Come on.” Teddy waved Finn over to stand in line with him at his left, and Finn obeyed with a crook to his smile.

  After a moment Frankie threw her crutches aside and walked—gingerly—to stand by Teddy.

  “Slow, minimal movement, shifting your weight between your feet. Right”—he leaned onto his right foot, lifting his left slightly—“back”—he stepped back with his left behind the right, putting all of his weight there—“change”—he stepped back onto his right, bringing his left up where it had started and shifting to do the same movements on the other side.

  Left, back, left, shift, right, back, right, shift. A simple ball change using the balls of his feet.

  Finn likely would have picked it up quickly, but Teddy thought he might be feigning struggle to make Frankie less frustrated. The moves she could do, but whenever her weight was all on her prosthetic, she wobbled, panicked, and reached back for the bar or set her other foot down to keep from falling.

  “I have one more move to show you today, but only if you can do the first without second-guessing yourself.”

  “It’s hard,” Frankie protested. “Maybe this stupid thing doesn’t fit me right.”

  “It fits you fine. You’re just not trying hard enough.”

  “I am too!”

  “Think of how much more difficult this would be if you’d lost your leg above the knee.”

  “Urg,” Frankie growled, face red as she clung to the bar harder, “I have heard that so many times!”

  “Yet it’s still true,” Teddy persisted. “Now try harder.”

  Finn looked ready to intervene, but Teddy knew what he was doing, because he’d seen what Frankie was capable of. The only thing holding her back was her.

  Plus, she was stubborn like Erina. Like Teddy. He could see the fire in her that proved her anger was something she could harness.

  “I don’t teach whiners, and I don’t tolerate quitters. Again,” Teddy said.

  Frankie let go of the bar with a huff, focused, centered h
erself, so that even though she teetered doing the next ball change, she held it together.

  “Frankie, you—”

  “Shush.” Teddy cut Finn off, then turned to offer him a wink so he’d know he was only playing a part. “Keep your momentum going, Frankie. I expect rhythm, not sloppiness.”

  Finn smirked, since it was obvious this tactic was working on her. A few minutes more, and though Frankie had to go slowly, she could successfully ball change from real to prosthetic foot without trouble.

  “After that, a box step will be a breeze,” Teddy said.

  It was, since speed didn’t matter, only shifting weight and small movements.

  Another few minutes passed until they were all forming boxes in time, and Teddy said, “If you’re really advanced, you could try a grapevine next.”

  “What’s that?” Frankie asked.

  Teddy stepped away from them to demonstrate, moving across the room in a straight line with his feet crisscrossing each other in rapid succession. As it required minimal movement from his hip, he could still do so with ease.

  A glance back when he reached the wall told him that Frankie was even more determined. She followed suit, stepping out away from the walking station. It was commendable how fluidly she moved once she started, picking up momentum toward Teddy. He thought for sure she’d barrel right into him, but she slowed, caught herself with another wobble, grinned triumphantly, and headed back the other way.

  Her cockiness took its toll when she wasn’t quite as successful the opposite direction, tripping over her feet finally and toppling—

  —right into Finn’s arms, where she burst into a giggle until he started laughing too.

  “Not bad, Nutcracker,” Teddy called as he joined them.

  “Can we do this again Friday?” Frankie asked.

  “Better keep it to once a week. I’m in PT too, remember? Besides, I’m headed to the city on Friday.”

  “You are?” Finn said with a smile.

  “Seems like.”

  “What for?” Frankie asked.

  “My sister is also a dancer, and she’s performing in a ballet she’d like me to see. I wasn’t sure I was going to go.”