Page 100 of True Blue

18

TEDDY

JULY

"Are you okay, Theo?"

Danielle asks over the line, and it feels nice that my sisters stayed with me anyway they could. Heath and Luke both let go of me, but not before making sure I'm steady. I nod once, and they step back, Heath standing up to refill his mug of coffee. Luke stays on the couch next to me, but gives me some space.

"Yes," I croak, before clearing my throat and repeating. "Yes."

"Good," Stephanie says. "Because now we're going to talk, and you're going to listen. We wanted to do this in person when you were in Jersey, as far away from Mom as possible, but it looks like we need to do it now."

"Okay," I say, nodding even though they can't see me.

Luke pats my shoulder in support, and Heath comes back with coffee, handing me a mug that I accept and drain instantly. The crashes between exhaustion and adrenaline are chewing me up and spitting me out.

"Theo," Danielle says, gentler now, "what used to happen when we got home from school as kids?"

I frown. "We'd... go outside and play⁠—"

"No," she cuts in softly. "You mean you would go outside and play while Steph and I went to Mom to get our orders."

"Orders..." I repeat dumbly. Memories bubble up from childhood, from middle school, when we would get off the bus and run through the front door.

Cringing, I remember how Mom would be in the foyer, greeting me first—always first—with a hug, a kiss, and asking how my day was. I would ramble on about whatever nonsense I did that day, and then she would coo and fawn over me, asking if I wanted a snack, a nap, or to go out and play.

Then she'd turn to Stephanie and Danielle and tell them to go upstairs, do their homework, then come down and help with dinner or start cleaning. Sometimes they complained—Mom called it whining—that they wanted to watch TV first, or go to a friend's house, or just sit down for five minutes. Mom would say no.

Then I'd ask if I could go outside with Lily or the neighborhood kids. She'd kiss my cheek and tell me to be careful.

That was normal, but now I can see it for what it was—unfair.

"I didn't..." I shake my head, words caught in my throat.

How many times can I use the same excuse? How many ways can I excuse my blindness and ignorance? How many people can I apologize to for not seeing this fucked up family dynamic?

"Didn't realize it? Yeah, we know," Danielle sighs. "That's why we didn't totally hold it against you."

"Still sucked, though," Stephanie mutters.

"Mom clearly favored you over us. We learned that early."

"Why?" I ask, honestly bewildered.

Stephanie and Danielle always got amazing grades, excelled in their sports or activities, and would cook, clean, and help Mom out whenever they could. I was mediocre at school, didn't want to play sports, and didn't even clean my own room.

Why was I treated like a prize?

Stephanie laughs dryly. "That question has many answers, but it can pretty much be summed up by this—because this is a man's world, Theo."

"You were blessed to be born a boy, where you're championed just because."

"Danielle and I had to work twice as hard just to get a fifth of the praise you got from Mom. Even then, she always had a snide comment—if I got an A, she said it should have been an A+."

"When I got runner-up in the science fair, she said there was no point in coming to see second place."

"Not that she ever really cared about our academics," Danielle adds. "She wanted the two of us to meet nice men, settle down, and keep our mouths shut."