But clearly Teddy needed to do something. Her family was right; her life was a mess. Her breathing grew shallow as she drove, the streetlamps lighting her way in the dark of the early-fall evening. Hadn’t it just been summer? Hadn’t it been light at nine p.m. yesterday? And here it was, six p.m. and the streetlamps were on. Time was moving too fast, moments were slipping away, Teddy was almost thirty, and she had no idea what she was doing with her life. . . .
Her car beeped to let her know she’d received a text message. She pressed the PLAY button and the robot voice read:
Kirsten says: Pajama-movie night starts in one hour. We made a bunch of chicken drumsticks and if you don’t get here soon I’m going to eat them all.
Teddy smiled. They were watching The Birds (Kirsten and Eleanor were working their way through the Alfred Hitchcock oeuvre) and apparently chicken legs passed for themed refreshments. They were birds, after all, although presumably the titular birds were more flight-worthy.
The car beeped again, and Teddy pressed PLAY, assuming it was Kirsten adding more snack details.
Richard says: Sitting here eating a protein bar. I miss your dinners. Crying emoji.
Teddy stopped breathing. Typically she thought it was charming that the car described emojis, but now she was too annoyed to be amused. Crying emoji? Her entire life had been a crying emoji since their breakup, and now Richard was using one in a text?
She pictured him sitting at his island—their island—protein bar wrapper crinkling as he ate in a lonely apartment where there was certainly no milk in the fridge. Was he eating protein bars for every meal? That wasn’t nutritionally sound.
This wasn’t about what Eleanor and Kirsten said, that she was taking care of someone to prove her worth. This was simple concern for his health—what was she supposed to do, let him starve? Only a truly cruel person would do that, and Teddy wasn’t cruel.
She put her blinker on and headed toward the store.
* * *
—
IT FELT STRANGE to ring the doorbell at what was her home—well, what had been her home until recently—but of course she’d given Richard her keys back.
He pulled open the door of the town house, looking confused at first, but then she held up the grocery bags in her hands.
“I come bearing dinner,” she said, and he smiled.
He sat on the couch, computer on his lap, as she bustled around the kitchen. She didn’t feel awkward at all as they fell into their accustomed roles. In fact, she felt comfortable for the first time in weeks, opening these familiar cabinets and using these familiar pans, everything exactly where she had left it. Even in the refrigerator, which held several now-moldy containers of berries she’d purchased before moving out.
“You really need to clean this thing,” she said lightly, tossing them into the garbage.
“I know, I know,” Richard said from the couch. “This is what’s happened to me since you left. I’m living a disgusting bachelor lifestyle.”
I didn’t leave, Teddy stopped herself from saying. You kicked me out.
She looked toward the mantelpiece to see what Richard had done with it since she’d removed the mini pumpkin tableau, but there was nothing at all on that mantel, and no throw pillows on the couch to replace the ones she’d taken. There wasn’t a single seasonal candle in sight. Teddy shuddered.
Dinner was quick but satisfying—steaks with a salad of kale, red onion, and pomegranate seeds, plus a loaf of crusty bread she’d picked up. Since she hadn’t been able to eat much at her mom’s, what with the constant conversation about her failure of a life, she found she was hungry again, and she snuck a piece of bread into her mouth.
She hummed to herself as she pulled down the plates and bowls she was used to eating from, the same ones she’d picked out years ago. Of course Richard didn’t pay attention to things like plates or anything that made a house a home. He would have used old sheets to cover the windows if she hadn’t been there to pick out curtains.
“Everything’s ready!” she said brightly, plating his steak and salad.
“Oh, thanks, Teddy,” he said, standing up off the couch and stretching, then crossing the room to the island. “This looks amazing. You’re amazing.”
Teddy beamed.
“What’s that?” he asked, poking at the kale.
“A salad,” Teddy said with a smile.
“Always trying to get me to eat vegetables,” Richard groaned, but he