I sensedTeddy’sglare beforeIturned my head to actually see it.
“Sorry,”Isaid, opting for humour, just this once. “Ishouldn’t presume.Boyfriend?”
Teddy tipped her head back and barked out a laugh, andIsmiled.Itfelt nice to earn that from her, at least, even ifIcouldn’t have her approval.
“No, no friends or otherwise, really,” she said, though she didn’t sound all that sad about it. “Notall of us are so lucky to have such a tight-knit group like yours.”
I smiled to myself asIturned back to the sweetcorn.Myfriends really were amazing– whenIthought about them, it put all of the crises of vocation and identity to the back of my mind.Theywere everything to me.
“I’m only there for half the year,”Teddycontinued, “and even then,I’vealways been biding my time untilIcan move here permanently.”
I paused; that was interesting, but after whatTeddyhad said on my first day about the job being hers,Ididn’t want to pry into that, soIpivoted back to safer territory.
“IsJenfrom here?”Iasked. “Shedoesn’t sound like it.”
“No, she’s fromCalifornia, too, but she married aWelshman.Shedidn’t know she was gay until they’d been married for a few years.Or, if she did, she kept herself locked in the closet long enough to get permanent residency.”
I laughed. “Resourceful,Isuppose.”
Teddy grimaced. “Yeah, but he was awful.Itell myself she must not have known until the end, because otherwiseIcan’t imagine she would have been able to stay with him.”
I turned in place and sat down in the path, my back to the bedI’dbeen working in.IexpectedTeddyto tell me off for taking a break so soon, but she didn’t.Infact, she surprised me by doing the same, facing me.Shelooked down at the spade in her hand as she spoke.
“When they split,” she said, “Jencouch surfed for about a year before she had enough money to buy the house here.Thenshe, my mom, andIspent the next decade making it what it is now.”
“That’s amazing,”Isaid, imagining all the work that had gone into that. “Doesyour mum not come anymore?WillIget to meet her?”
Teddy’s face fell, andIimmediately wanted to take it back– to pick the words up out of the pea gravel between us and shove them into my big mouth.
“She died,”Teddysaid, as matter-of-factly asIwould have expected, butIcould hear a slight croak in her voice that hadn’t been there before. “Aboutnine years ago.”
“I’m so sorry,”Isaid in a quick exhale.
Teddy shook her head. “Itwas a long time ago.”Butshe also turned back to the beetroot, soIturned away, too, and got back to work, mentally kicking myself for blowing it.
“Do you have another parent?”Iasked. “Arethey … still around?”
Teddy laughed again, but this time it was cold.Weak. “Situationally?Yes,” she said. “Mydad still lives in the houseIgrew up in.Existentially?Notso much.He’sgot a really bad drinking problem now.Isee him as much asIcan whenI’mthere, butI’mmostly nomadic, so we’re not really close anymore.”
There was a twinge of guilt in her words thatIonly recognised because of my own semi-estrangement from my parents.
“I’m sorry,”Isaid again, andImeant it. “Werehe and your mum together?”
“Yeah, they were,” she said. “Theywere always super independent– he worked as a raft guide and climbing instructor inYosemiteduring the summers while we were here– but they loved each other.Deeply.”
“So, he took it hard,”Isaid, filling in the gaps. “Whenshe died.”
Teddy didn’t brush me off, but she didn’t elaborate, either.Shejust kept working, andIdid, too.WhenI’dfinished with the sweetcorn, she pointed me towards some courgettes and explained what to do with them whilst she moved on to some tomato seedlings going in further down in the same bed.
“What about you?” she asked eventually. “Youclose with your family?”
“Not really,”Iadmitted, feeling my shoulders tense asItwisted a pot off a seedling and pressed it into a holeI’ddug.
“Even though you live so close?”
There was no judgment in her voice, but it was hard not to place it there myself.HerewasTeddy, whose mum was gone, and whose dad was a shell of a person, andIhad two perfectly healthy parents just a few miles down the road from me.Yet,Iwas avoiding them.
“We don’t get on very well,”Isaid. “I’msorry.Iknow that’s shitty.”
