magazine tucked under his arm. Several days a week, he came in to use the restroom, never speaking to Teddy. Technically, the restroom was for paying customers, and she should’ve demanded he at least buy a Ring Pop if he wanted to relieve himself on the premises.
But also . . . well, Teddy had a hard time turning people away when they had to perform a basic bodily function. There but for the grace of God go I and all that. And so, since he always kept the restroom clean, she let him stomp past her without saying a word. She didn’t know what happened on her mornings off—did he come in? Did Josie or Carlos, the shop’s other employee, turn him away? Teddy didn’t know, but she enjoyed the slight mystery it added to her predictable days.
Teddy watched most of the episode without a single customer walking in. She barely noticed time passing until the restroom door flew open and the Mysterious Bathroom Bandit stormed through the shop and out the door.
“Have a great day!” she called as the bell rang.
The episode was almost over, meaning it was time for Teddy’s favorite segment—“Letters to Everett.” This week’s letter, as Everett read to the llama, was from a little boy named Keegan. Everett cleared his throat before he started reading, and Teddy, she admitted, swooned a little bit. There was something about a man who looked like Everett taking a child’s feelings seriously. It did things to a lady.
Dear Everett,
All of my friends are good at something. Jayden is good at basketball. Sasha won the spelling bee. Marlon was on Chopped Junior. But I’m not good at anything. I’m okay at lots of things (soccer, math, drawing) but not great. How do I find my thing?
Very sincerely yours,
Keegan, age 9
Teddy smiled at the formal sign-off, even as her heart twisted at the child’s words.
“Well, Keegan,” Everett said, looking straight into the camera (and straight into Teddy’s soul), “I bet you’re good at lots of things. For starters, this was a pretty good letter. Right, Larry?”
The llama nodded, and Teddy found herself forgetting, as she did every week, that the llama was controlled by a puppeteer’s hand and wasn’t acting independently.
“I bet you’re a good friend, and a good son, and a good student. I can tell that you’re kind and generous and helpful. But I know that’s not what you’re asking. You want to find your thing. Well, you might have already found your thing. It might be one of those things that you told me you’re just okay at. Maybe once you spend lots of time practicing soccer, math, or drawing, you might find that you really are great at them.
“But maybe—and this is kinda cool to think about—your thing is out there waiting for you. Maybe your thing is fencing, or singing, or playing the flute. But you won’t know unless you try, right? So that’s my advice for you, Keegan. Try everything you can. Even—or maybe especially—the things that scare you. Keep your mind and your heart open and be on the lookout, and I know you’ll find your thing.”
Teddy swallowed hard. “How does he know?” she whispered to the case of original GI Joe figurines beside her.
Of course, Everett didn’t know anything about Teddy. It wasn’t like he knew she’d stumbled aimlessly through life until hitching her wagon to a man. He wasn’t tailoring his message toward an adult woman; he was talking to a child. Also known as his intended audience.
But, oh, how Teddy identified with Keegan. She thought of some of the last words Richard had spoken to her.
You’ve always had a smaller life.
She flinched now, stung by the memory. She looked around the empty store and imagined how she looked sitting here all by herself, hunched over her laptop. Her life did feel small, and she wasn’t sure that she liked it.
“Hello, hello!”
Teddy quickly closed her laptop as Josie approached from the back of the shop, carrying a large box. Not that Josie would necessarily care that Teddy was watching something, but she didn’t think it was respectful to openly watch television when her boss was around, even if her boss was like a second, gentler, much less pressuring mother.
No offense to her own mother or anything.
“Hi, Josie,” Teddy said, grabbing the box out of Josie’s hands. No matter how often Carlos and Teddy told her to leave the heavy lifting to them, she refused to listen. She was seventy but had the