Take Your Turn, Teddy Read online

  Teddy looked to his dad for some kind of explanation, but all he said was, “Wait in the hall, Teddy. Now.”

  Was he in trouble? Was he not supposed to go in? He obeyed his father and closed the door behind him. Teddy stood against the smooth paneled wall in the darkness of the hall.

  Teddy wasn’t sure what he had seen. He didn’t know what it meant or why he would be in trouble for it. He really was glad to see Amber. Maybe she did something wrong. But that didn’t make Teddy feel much better. He didn’t want her to be in trouble either. Before he started talking to Pete on the bus rides home, Amber had been Teddy’s first ever friend.

  Teddy heard faint voices coming from his parents’ room. “You said no one would be home before three.”

  “Jesus Christ, Amber. Do you think I thought my ten-year-old would walk in?”

  “You don’t get it. He knows me, Arthur. This is bad. Bad for us, bad for him. This is so bad.”

  “Stop. It’s okay. They must’ve let him out early. Teddy doesn’t know what we were doing. I’ll go talk to him. Wait here and get dressed.”

  Teddy could hear the nervousness in Amber’s voice as she said, “No. I think you should take me home first. What if Lila comes home?”

  The last part confused Teddy. Was his mom supposed to be surprised by Amber coming home? Maybe his dad was planning something special for his mom, and Amber was there to watch him. But then why would she want to leave?

  Teddy brought his hands to his face and slid to the floor. He was so confused, and his dad seemed upset with him. Now Amber was upset too. He wanted to cry.

  His dad sighed. “Uhh. Fine. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Arthur opened the bedroom door, and the light conjured Teddy’s shadow on the wall. He almost spoke to it, as if it was a friend—someone as young as he was but maybe less confused. Someone who could explain to him what he had seen. But Teddy’s father’s shadow appeared on the wall and merged with Teddy’s, creating a dark mass of grey.

  His father crouched down in front of Teddy. “Hey, Teddy, my little Bambino. I’m going to take Amber home. I thought you could tag along, and we could get some baseball cards. What do you think?”

  Teddy could hear sniffling coming from his parents’ room. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it in his stomach, and the lump in his throat told him he wanted to cry.

  All Teddy wanted now was his mother. Teddy shook his head. “I’m going to wait here for Mom.”

  His father’s eyebrows raised, and his eyes looked panicked. “No. No. No, Teddy.”

  Teddy’s father pushed his palm forward as if pumping the brakes on his intensity and took a deep breath. Teddy noticed his father wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. There was a small, pale line in place of the usual bright, gold band. That, too, turned Teddy’s stomach. His father had done this in the past, and it resulted in an evening of shouting from his parents’ bedroom. Teddy hated nights like those.

  As Amber had struggled to do with him, Teddy couldn’t meet his father’s eyes.

  His father spoke softly, “Teddy, let me explain something to you. Are you listening to me?”

  Teddy brought his knees to his chest and rested his head on them. He nodded.

  “Okay. Sometimes adults get overwhelmed. You know what I mean? They get stressed about money or their job, or something as simple as figuring out what to cook for dinner. Everyone deals with that stress in different ways. Amber helps me, so I don’t come home and yell anymore. Do you remember what that was like?”

  Teddy remembered hearing dishes hit the floor as he tossed and turned in his room. He remembered the muffled yet loud voices from the kitchen. It usually ended with his mother crying. Sometimes, after his father came home yelling like this, Teddy’s mother wouldn’t talk for a few days. She would just sit in front of the record player in the living room, drinking wine and working on her next article for work.

  But sometimes, if he’d sit with her as she flipped through the records to pick a new one, she’d hum the tune and then add some kind of commentary. Teddy tried hard to remember the ones she talked about, so when she got upset, he could put those songs on for her.

  Last time, it was “The Wind” by Cat Stevens. She’d hummed to the opening lyrics and said, “I’ve always found this one incredibly comforting.”

  Teddy enjoyed those moments with his mother, but the yelling that came before was awful.

  “Teddy, are you with me? Don’t you remember how bad things were when I came home stressed and yelling like that?”

  Teddy nodded.

  “Now, with Amber, I can blow off all that steam. Your mom and I have never been better.”

  Teddy nodded, sort of understanding. At least as best as he could.

  “I need you to keep this between us, okay, my little Bambino? Just for a while.”

  Teddy nodded.

  His father rubbed his beard and took a deep inhale. His father put his hands up, maybe with a little frustration, and said, “Okay. You can stay here. I’ll see you when I get back. We can play catch until Mom gets home.”

  His father grabbed Teddy’s shoulder and gave it a consoling squeeze. Teddy wasn’t sure why, but in his confusion, he didn’t want it. He lifted his shoulders in discomfort, as if his dad was a creepy stranger.

  “Hey, Teddy. Everything will be alright. I’ll be right back.”

  His dad opened the door, and Amber nearly shoved past him. She pulled her sweatshirt down and began straightening her hair, walking through the hall with raised elbows as she tied it back.

  Teddy didn’t try to talk to her, and once again, she didn’t even look at him. He tucked his chin back into his folded arms on his knees.

  His dad looked back at Teddy and gave him a reassuring wave. The garage door rattled opened, and soon after, the Ranch Wagon hummed.

  Teddy pulled the Hammerin’ Hank card from his pocket and was left alone with the shadow on the wall.

  2

  To Teddy’s surprise and disappointment, his father didn’t come right back. And after witnessing his father with Amber, Teddy wasn’t even sure he would know how to act when he did. It didn’t make sense to him. He stumbled to his room and lay flat across his Jetsons bedding. He traced the cartoon images on the comforter and sang the show’s tune aloud, finding Elroy, daughter Judy, and Jane his wife. Teddy circled back, singing the names of the three characters. First, Elroy. Teddy found his blond hair, wave, and smile on the bedding. Then Judy with her futuristic white-moon-colored ponytail. And Jane. Jane had orange hair just like Teddy’s mom; only his mom’s hair wasn’t chopped above her shoulders. Instead, her hair draped down her back like a shiny cape. Sometimes, while she was cooking, his mom would pull all of that length into a puffy hair tie, and as she danced around the kitchen singing The Beatles or Led Zeppelin, her orange hair would bounce and swing in peaceful, subtle waves. Teddy rubbed his hand across Jane. He thought Jane was pretty, as he was sure Elroy and Judy did too. But to Teddy, his mom was the prettiest person in the world.

  Right next to Jane was George Jetson. Teddy couldn’t help but wonder if after Jane dropped from the spaceship and to the shopping mall, if Mr. Jetson sat behind his desk all day, or if he came home to an empty house with a friend he needed to feel better—like his father said Amber had done for him. He wasn’t sure why, but the uncertainty made him angry with Mr. Jetson. Was it anger? He didn’t know how to feel about any of it. What he wanted to know most was how his mother would feel.

  Teddy rose from the bed and turned the comforter over to its light blue underside. He didn’t want to look at Mr. Jetson anymore.

  He sat in his room and waited for his father to return. Teddy didn’t think he would show him the Hammerin’ Hank card. It didn’t seem to matter anymore.

  Instead, Teddy took the card and dragged himself into his father’s office. Along the back wall was an array of wide dark oak shelves. Against the ora
nge shag rugs, the bookcase always reminded him of the colors of autumn. He and his parents would walk to Benji’s for ice cream. Then they’d walk the town with their ice cream cones and admire the color of the leaves in the months where summer and winter were beginning to merge. All before the cryptic cold snuck in and turned everything to ice.

  The thought sent a chill through Teddy as he shook his shoulders and said, “Brrr.”

  He flipped the light next to the case that illuminated his father’s rare collection of the best baseball players known to man. Next to The Great Bambino himself, Teddy laid his World Series edition Hank Aaron card. He thought it belonged with the greats, even if he and his father didn’t put it up there together.

  Teddy heard a car door slam shut out front. He ran from the office, fearing his father would come in and want him to stay and talk about the card. Teddy waited for the rattling sound as the rusty garage door opened. But, the golden doorknob in the living room jiggled with movement from the key on the other side. The car was parked in front of the house and not the garage, which meant his mother was home.

  Her hands opened and closed around crinkling paper bags. Teddy could see the yellow packaging of Nestle Toll House cookie dough peeking out the top of one. She and Teddy, on select nights, made cookies together while cleaning up dinner.

  “Hey, my Teddy Bear. Wild rice soup tonight?”

  It was Teddy’s favorite dinner. His mother was in a good mood, which meant her boss at the Oakhaven Chronicle was happy with her latest column. Teddy nodded with a forced smile and took a few of the bags from his mother. She set hers on the counter and, with a single pull of a pin, let down her long red hair. It fell onto her shoulders in long waves.

  She stepped into the laundry room and shut the door. With a slam of the dryer door, Teddy waited for her to change out of her bright, corduroy bell-bottoms.

  His mom came back wearing a British Invasion t-shirt and black athletic shorts. Her hair was back on top of her head but in a more relaxed ponytail.

  “Okay, Teddy Bear. Let’s get dinner going. I bet Dad’s had a long day at the office.”

  Teddy was sure he hadn’t. He tried to smile, though, to cover any expression on his face that would suggest otherwise.

  “You can pick the tunes tonight. Go on. Whatever you’d like.”

  She waved Teddy to the living room to the cream Crosley record player. He opened the dark wood entertainment center and flipped through the extensive vinyl records collection, trying to pick something that would pick up his spirits and hold his mother’s high.

  Teddy took out one he had seen a hundred times—one his mother had sung him all his life. It had too many people to count on it, some he recognized like Marilyn Monroe and Edgar Allan Poe. Four men were standing behind a drum with lettering as colorful as their yellow, pink, blue, and orange suits. At the bottom, the band’s name was spelled in bright red flowers, The Beatles.

  “Come on, Teddy. Hurry up,” his mother called from the kitchen.

  Teddy pulled the record from its sleeve, careful to hold it between his fingers and not let any smudges get on it, just as his mother had taught him. He dropped the needle and turned the volume knob to the right, letting the rock-infused hit dance its way across the room to his mother. And as if teasing him of his efforts to make her happy, Paul McCartney sang of a band that was guaranteed to raise a smile. And his mother did.

  Teddy was happy to see his mother in such a good mood. Things were getting better as his father had said. His mother was standing at the yellow Formica countertop, swaying her hips off-beat, as if McCartney was singing a slower tune. Maybe she was dancing to the rhythm of her own, peaceful energy. The orange color of her hair, along with the yellow counter and pastels of the floral wallpaper, reminded him of the poppy field Dorothy and her loyal band of misfits skipped through on their way to Oz. Teddy’s smile faded. That field was poisonous. Teddy started to wonder if, like the field, his home was beautiful but truly carried a plan of deceit.

  The kitchen knife made thick thuds as it split the carrots and sank to the cutting board. His mother continued to sway as she cut the vegetables at a steady pace. Teddy could see the natural smile on her face. His dad was right. Without all the yelling, things were better. His mother was happier, which meant his father had to be too. And if they were happy, so was he. Maybe there was such a thing as a simply beautiful poppy field. All treats and no tricks.

  “Shit!”

  A carrot hopped from the cutting board and onto the far side of the counter.

  Teddy saw a steady spot of blood growing on his mother’s finger. She ran it under cold water and yelled behind her and over Teddy, “Honey? Honey, are you working? I need you to finish cutting these carrots for me!”

  Teddy froze in uncertainty.

  She grabbed a kitchen towel and wrapped it around her finger. “Sorry for cursing, sweetie. But man, that hurt like he—” She bit her bottom rose-colored lip and giggled aloud. “It just really hurt. I don’t want to touch all this food with a bloody finger. Your dad can help. It’ll be kind of nice to all cook dinner together. You can DJ for us. How ’bout that?”

  Teddy was nervous with uncertainty. He knew his dad wasn’t there, but he’d promised to keep what he had seen that afternoon between them. He didn’t know what to do, so he just stood there watching his mom scramble around the sunset-colored kitchen. Only when she removed the cloth from her hand again did he snap out of his anxious trance. The reminder of blood seemed to wake him from it, saying, This is urgent. Do something, man. Move.

  “Uh. That’s okay, Mom. I can finish cutting them.”

  “No, no, Teddy Bear. Those carrots are thick. You’ll just turn around and do what I did. Maybe if I yell loudly enough, I can get your father in here.”

  She gave Teddy a playful wink and grinned.

  “Oh, Arthur? Can you come help me, please?”

  Teddy could hardly stand the tension. Why wasn’t his father home yet? Teddy tried to be as sly as possible when he studied his mother’s face for any sign of suspicion. But she just held the cloth tightly around her finger, wincing from the pain. Teddy couldn’t help but notice her wedding ring on the hand she was using to apply pressure to the wound. It was a dark midnight-colored sapphire with a cluster of diamonds surrounding the center stone. Teddy remembered just a few months ago when his mother hadn’t worn the ring, but instead it lay on the corner of the bathroom counter—seemingly hissing at him to look at it, like the ring of Sauron in his Tolkien book.

  His mother began calling for his father again.

  “Sweetheart? Arthur? Come on, sweetie. You’ve worked all day. Come see us.”

  But the house sat empty as they waited for a response with nothing but the increasing sound of his mother’s impatient breathing.

  Her breath was getting heavier by the minute. The record player was still spinning and filled what little space the building tension would allow with “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.”

  “Arthur?”

  She exhaled hard and stomped her feet down the hall to the office. “Arthur, did you not hear me calling for you? I need your help w—”

  She must’ve seen no one was in the office.

  “Teddy, honey? Is Dad not home? I told him I wanted him home earlier tonight so we could all have dinner together.”

  She was still stomping back to the kitchen, coming for an answer. Teddy wondered how someone as small as she could create so much noise with their steps.

  Teddy backed away until his back hit the countertop. There was nowhere else to go. He wasn’t ready for the yelling. He took in a deep breath and suspended it inside him. He felt as though any sudden movements would undo everything—catastrophe.

  She shot her green eyes at him. Teddy thought they almost seemed to have an outer ridge of orange that matched her hair, or the fury of fire.

  Teddy’s face must’ve spelled out some form of anx
iousness because his mother studied him for a moment, saying nothing but shooting a suspicious glare.

  “Right. Well, can you get in the cabinet in the laundry room and grab me a Band-Aid? I’ll get the rest of these carrots cut.”

  She turned from Teddy and spread her arms out as she white-knuckled the edge of the counter. Her breath had yet to let up.

  Teddy obeyed his mother and rifled through the cabinet in the laundry room, finding their last Band-Aid. He grabbed the Neosporin for good measure too. He hoped that maybe if he could start the album over, perhaps they could restart their night together.

  But just as he closed the cabinet door beside the washing machine, he heard his mother say, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  Maybe she thought she said it low enough, but Teddy crept around the paneled wall to find her squatting at the bottom of the fridge.

  “There was a whole bottle of wine in here this morning. How is it all gone?”

  She hurried to the wine cabinet and flung its doors open. Teddy immediately knew what his mother wanted wouldn’t be there. The glasses clanged together as she investigated those too.

  She mumbled frustrations under her breath and slammed the dark oak doors. “I just wanted to come home and make dinner and drink my wine. I just wanted some time to relax.”

  Lila’s face fell to her shaking hands, and she began to cry. Teddy’s socks created soft shuffling sounds on the tiled floor as he went to his mother. “Mom?” He tried to use the softest voice he could. “Are you okay?”

  She looked up at Teddy with smeared mascara and swollen eyes. Teddy looked back with wide eyes, fearful of what she would read in them.

  “I’m sorry, Teddy. I’ve just been a little stressed. I am trying to find ways around it, but things just keep getting ruined.”

  Teddy slowly went to the floor and sat beside his mother. He grabbed her hands and ran his thumb and back forth across the top of them, a soothing method she had done for him his whole life.