Sid and Teddy

by H. D. Knightley

  “You want me to be exclusive? We never even talked about it before. Will you be?”

  He pulled his head up, “Are you seeing someone else?”

  I sat up and swung my feet off the bed. “No, of course not. I’m here whenever you want.” I turned to look at him and smiled trying to cut the tension.

  Gavin grabbed my hand. “Sid, I need you. I’m sorry I’m going to London, I wish I didn’t have to go, but please, I’ll come back. Wait for me.”

  I watched my toes wiggling on the carpet. “You won’t become a big rockstar over there and forget to come back?”

  “No way, forget my Sid? When I have the most beautiful California Girl looking up at me from the front row of my concert? There’s no way.”

  I nodded, though six months would be a long time for someone who needed Sid time after a grueling day of meetings. And it sounded like there would be a lot of meetings in London. “When do you leave?”

  “Three days, but the good news is that my father leaves right,” he looked at his watch. “Already left. That’s why I feel better. I can spend them all with you. I just have to get someone to watch over the apartment while I’m gone. Do you want to?”

  “Nah, I ought to stay with Dad. He needs me. Plus it’s closer to my class.”

  Seventy-Six

  Teddy

  I had a new reality. The campus, walking to class, waking up in my apartment, it was like I was doing it all for the first time, instead of two months after the start of the year. For two months I had been living in a haze, pining, longing, missing Sid, and now I was either clear-eyed, or just heartbroken. I couldn’t decide. Either way I was without Sid for the first time in my life. Truly without, and I couldn’t figure out how to make sense of it or how to carry on. Everything was changed.

  So I went surfing. I surfed for hours in the morning and then ate lunch and then surfed in the afternoon and fell asleep for a late afternoon nap and then watched tv until way past midnight.

  I had forgotten to attend my classes, and when I remembered that I ought to go, assumed I was far gone, anyway. No sense walking into the building this far behind.

  The Thursday after I returned from the concert, my friends invited me to go out. I didn’t worry about what might happen if I let one of the girls sit beside me and fling her hair and accidentally brush my hand. I just didn’t want to go to sleep alone. So I didn’t.

  Then I didn’t again and again. For two weeks I peeled girls off me in the middle of the night and woke them up and told them my roommate was weird about guests sleeping over. He wasn’t, but I asked him to be, and he agreed to pretend to care.

  I sent the girls home with a lie and acted indifferent the next day, either ignoring them or giving them the That Was Fun But I’ll See You If I See You speech. I managed to keep from getting entangled by anyone.

  You might think this was the ultimate dick way to behave, and you’d be right, but here’s the thing. I wasn’t being nice to begin with. I didn’t act charming or give them any special attention at all, and still they would come home with me if I asked. All I had to do was ask.

  Contrast that with the love of my life. I had worked up the nerve for years and all I got to do was kiss her on the stomach. Once.

  So excuse me for taking advantage, I was dealing with a lot of not dealing well with things. Until about a week and a half before Thanksgiving when Samantha appeared.

  Samantha was beautiful in all different ways from Sid. Small and petite. Brown hair, perfect makeup, jewelry, everything just so. She dressed like a surfer girl, but never surfed because she had other stuff to do. And she didn’t bounce excitedly like Sid, so that was good.

  She sized me up and chose me at Trader Joes. I was wearing baggies and flip-flops though it was 11:30 a.m. I was skipping my Marine Biology class. I was staring down at the salad selection picking out lunch. She said, “You’re dripping.”

  I looked down. There was a puddle and enough sand to amount to a tiny dune by my flops. I joked, “Clean up on aisle seven.”

  She laughed. “The best salad is the broccoli kale chicken one.” She grabbed one for herself and then we stood for a second before she said, “What’s your name, surfer boy?”

  “Teddy.”

  She giggled, “Teddy, well you do look like someone fun to cuddle up to.”

  I laughed, startled by her directness. “I’ve been known to cuddle.”

  “I have class until four, but if you wanted to prove it you could pick me up for dinner at six. I’m a picky eater, so you need to get creative, but I bet you can impress me. Then we could see what happens.”

  I patted my pocket for my phone, which I had left charging in the car.

  She pulled her phone out of her purse and punched in the number I gave her. “I’m texting you my address. I look forward to our date.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you tonight.”

  Seventy-Seven

  Sid

  The day before Gavin planned to leave he asked me out to dinner.

  We hadn’t ‘dated’ in any traditional way, I had just started spending the night, and we bought groceries together at the corner store or just grabbed something to eat out.

  But this was an official date. There was an Indian restaurant a few doors down and Gavin wanted to take me. I dressed up, Gavin looked handsome. We walked hand in hand from his house and it was November, dark and cool and romantic.

  Gavin did that thing again, where he bows down, leans across the table with his hand out and then concentrates on holding and caressing my hand.

  He said, “So I’m leaving you Sid, across the big pond.”

  “You are.”

  He sat up in his chair and opened a menu. He got something out of his pocket, placed it inside and passed it.

  There were two papers inside. I studied one for a minute. “Gavin, is this a plane ticket to London?” I dropped the menu to the table.

  “Yes.”

  “For me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You got me a plane ticket for London?” I tried to read the papers, but my mind was racing ahead of the letters.

  He explained, “I got the ticket for the 1st of January. You’re supposed to give the passport agency six weeks to process. And since Sid of the Southbay is the only Millennial without a passport, I had to research the process.”

  “You researched for me and bought me a plane ticket?”

  He opened his eyes wide. “Yes, Brainiac, I bought you a plane ticket so you can come visit me in London.”

  I squealed and ran around the table and slung my arms around his neck.

  He laughed. “If you expedite the passport somehow, I’ll move your ticket up. You could come for Christmas.”

  I returned to my chair. “No, I think January will be perfect. This is our first Christmas without my mom, and so I need to be here with Dad. But then I’ll come.” I flipped the pages. “It’s one way?”

  “We need to talk about how long you can stay. I’ll buy the return ticket, we just have to figure it out.”

  “Okay, yeah, that makes sense. Gavin, this is so great, thank you. I’ve always wanted to go to London.”

  “You’ll love it, but you’ll need some winter gear.”

  “We have winter in LA.”

  He shook his head, “Ah, Sid of the Southbay, there is nothing sadder than a California Girl insisting that her weather is the same as everywhere else.”

  “We have weather, it’s just subtle.” I looked at the tickets again, unable to believe it.

  “Okay, so that’s one thing to look forward to. The rest of the time will be drudgery. Just my father bossing me around endlessly.”

  “What if you talked to him, explained that you want to be a musician, but you want to do it on your own terms.”

  Gavin looked incredulous. “What nonsense is this? You want me to talk to him? The man that sent me to hospital with a broken cheekbone because I told him I was tired of taking violin lessons. I was five, by the way.”
<
br />   “Oh shit, Gavin, I didn’t know.”

  “Of course you didn’t know, you Californians with your blue-sky thinking. If everyone will just communicate, hold hands, wish on a star, you think it will all be all right. Well, it won’t be. London is covered with grey clouds all the time. Magical wishes don’t work there.”

  “I don’t know why you have to be so mean.”

  “Because you’re being ridiculous Sid, you grew up with a loving family. Your parents want to spend time with you. Did anyone ever make you do anything you didn’t want to do?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just kept on talking. “No, never. So I’m thinking you might not know what you’re talking about when it comes to dealing with the former heroin addict who can make or break my career and who also happens to be my father.”

  “I might not know what it’s like to deal with parents like that, but I know about sadness, and I know you, and I care about you.” My voice wavered and tears welled up in my eyes.

  Gavin said, “Fuck.” And threw his napkin on the table. “I made you cry? You’re crying? I’m so sorry Sid, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He reached out for both my hands and held them in the middle of the table. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Why I do those things.” Our food came and he stared at the plates as if he was confused at their appearance. Then he dropped his head to his hands. “I don’t know why I said that Sid, please, please tell me it will be okay. That you forgive me.”

  He looked up with so much anguish that I said yes.

  And you know what echoed in my brain through dinner? What he had texted the first night we met: You’re beautiful when you say yes.

  Seventy-Eight

  Sid

  Teddy’s mom texted, inviting me to lunch. This was a new thing. I assumed she wanted to discuss my relationship with Teddy, which would be awkward, or she wanted to check in, make sure I was okay. Possibly she was looking around to be sure my dad was treating me well enough. No matter the reason I took it as meddling and was uncomfortable with the idea. We had never spent much time just the two of us, and I didn’t want to begin now, but she was insistent.

  So I was bracing myself for the possibility I would cry the entire lunch date. Either because she disapproved of my life or because of guilt about Teddy, but I relented anyway. As Dad had said, I needed to do things for other people. Plus if I showed her I was fine, maybe this would be the last time.

  But that thought made me uncomfortable too.

  She picked me up and said brightly, “Wahoo’s? I’m guessing you haven’t been there in a while?”

  “Last time I went was with Dad, when mom was still in the hospital.”

  “Will it bother you?”

  “No, I miss it.”

  We lucked out with a parking spot right out front, went in, ordered, and picked a table. Televisions in the corner blared surf contests. The music was too loud. Teddy’s mom fit in perfectly; she had grown up at the beach, a surf chick, long curly blonde hair. She still looked good in a bathing suit though she was an ancient forty-eight years old. Whether she was going to the beach or not, she always wore beach-style dresses with bathing suit straps showing. Sunglasses on her head.

  “So, Sid, first, I’m so sorry this is the first time we’ve done this. The other day I realized that it’s been well over three months since Alicia died and . . . I’m just so sorry.”

  Great, a lump rose in my throat. I knew it. Once the crying started the whole lunch would be a wet-cheeked disaster. I looked down. “It’s okay, I’ve been busy.”

  She took her sunglasses off her head. “I heard you have a boyfriend.”

  “Did Teddy tell you?”

  “Oh, no, your dad. Does Teddy know?”

  “Teddy met him at the concert last week.”

  She stared vaguely out the window. “That would explain why he didn’t come home after, why he went straight to school.” She fiddled with her soda cup. “Can I ask you what happened between you and Teddy? He won’t tell me anything.”

  “I . . .”

  “Here’s what I need to know—did Teddy do something to you? Is there something I should be concerned about?”

  “Oh no, not at all. Never. No, it was me, I . . .”

  I struggled to find the right words. I finished, “I felt like such a disaster, so sad. Teddy deserves someone happier.” I faltered and looked away.

  “Well, I’m relieved, but also I wish Alicia was here to advise you, but . . .” She rubbed her brow and down her face. A waitress delivered our food. We both picked up our forks and ate. Then Lori said, “I was hoping you could help me, with Teddy. He’s . . .” She finished chewing a bite. “He’s not going to classes, he’ll fail the semester—”

  “Teddy’s failing?”

  She nodded and a tear slid down her cheek. “Alicia and I made so many mistakes. We thought we were giving you guys a long-term friendship, but now you’re not even speaking. You were supposed to be there for each other, but now he has nobody. I feel like we failed you both.”

  “Oh,” I put down my fork. “But he wanted it so badly, he’s been planning to study Marine Biology since he was seven.”

  Lori wiped her eyes. “He won’t talk. He won’t tell me anything. It’s like he’s lost. And if you have any influence . . .”

  “I don’t think I do anymore. The last time we saw each other it wasn’t good.”

  She nodded again. “He’ll be home next week for Thanksgiving. Maybe you could come to Thanksgiving at my house, you and your dad, like old times. I was hoping maybe you and Teddy could talk. If you don’t have plans with your boyfriend?”

  “No, I don’t have plans. He had to go to London. Have you talked to Dad about it?”

  “He said he would like to, if you would be okay with it. We’re all a little confused about how to navigate a world where Teddy and Sid don’t talk to each other.”

  I nodded. Teddy was failing? He had been so motivated, so driven. It hurt in my chest to think about him floundering, being a failure.

  “Dad and I will come, thank you for inviting us.”

  She clapped her hands together. “I’m so glad. Though without Alicia’s expertise, my skills are such that I can’t promise much dinner-wise. Do you have her recipe for her special potatoes?”

  “Dad and I can make them if you want.”

  “That would be great Sid.” She took a big bite of her beans and rice. “So tell me about your boyfriend, is he hot?”

  “Boiling.”

  “Would your mom like him?”

  I sized her up, what had Dad told her about Gavin? Was she getting information for Teddy? It felt weird to talk about Gavin to Teddy’s mom. I couldn’t tell if she was my friend or the coach for the other team.

  “On my birthday he gave me an Oasis poster from 1994. Signed.”

  Her eyes grew big. “Seriously? Alicia would have loved that!”

  “I know. It felt like a sign.”

  Lori said, “Maybe she sent him for you. He’s British, Alicia adored a British accent. And a musician? He sounds awesome. Your dad liked him too. Do you have any photos?”

  “Online.” I pulled out my phone and googled Gavin’s band. I handed it to her.

  “He’s gorgeous Sid, wow!”

  “Yeah, he’s cool. Is Teddy seeing someone?”

  “He doesn’t tell me anything. Ask him yourself at Thanksgiving, maybe in front of us so we can hear what he says.”

  Seventy-Nine

  Teddy

  Samantha spent the night. She spent the next three nights, then begged off for classes, but returned the following weekend. It was thanksgiving break. We were in bed and she was laying in the crook of my shoulder and then she raised up on an elbow. “Are you going to invite me to Thanksgiving or not? My family is wondering if I can come home to San Diego, but it’s all so boring, no one cooks, they watch sports the whole time. I’d love to try a real Thanksgiving kind of meal.”

  “My mom does real Thanksgiv
ing—about as real it comes. She’s not a great cook though, but yeah.” My mind reeled for a moment, did inviting a girl you’ve been sleeping with for a week to Thanksgiving constitute a Big Step?

  I decided not to worry about it. That was the best part about Samantha, spending time with her, sleeping with her, required very little thinking on my part. None at all. I was just doing what Samantha told me to do, mostly. Not deciding for myself at all.

  It was comfortable, like being allowed to go on vacation from my life, but with lots of sex. Plus she didn’t mind if I surfed all the time, and best of all she didn’t want to come with me. I could keep that part of my life to myself. “Yeah, I’ll tell Mom you’re coming.”

  Eighty

  Teddy

  I walked in with Samantha and apparently had forgotten to mention to Mom that she was coming.

  Mom stood at the door with a blank smile and a confused stutter. “Um, Hello Samantha, welcome. I’m Lori. I’ll put your sweater here. Um, come to the family room, and Teddy can you come to the kitchen real quick?”

  “Mom?”

  “I invited Sid and Mike to eat with us! They’re coming in thirty minutes. You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone. Who is that even?”

  “You invited Sid? Who told you to invite Sid? We have nothing more to say to each other.”

  “God, you sound so callous, this is Sid, your best friend. My best friend’s daughter. Her mother died, and I want her to spend Thanksgiving with us. Like every year.”

  “This year is different, she wants nothing to do with me. Are you sure she’s even coming? I can’t imagine her agreeing.”

  “She’s coming, and now it’s—Who is this Samantha?”

  “She’s the girl I’m seeing.”

  “How long? You never mentioned her.”