Page 42 of Ted's Temerity
My lips pull into a grin and, before I can stop myself, I’m typing again.
Ted: Brains over brawn, Charlie.
Charlie sends back a line of middle finger emojis and I crack up, more of the tension in my shoulders and chest easing. It looks like things don’t have to change after all, and I feel a little ashamed that I underestimated my friends so badly.
As I said before, my own reaction to having my past exposed surprised and embarrassed me. I’m the oldest of our group, and I suppose I had always thought of myself as the most stable. But panicking over the idea that they’d treat me differently says otherwise, doesn’t it?
My therapist, Sandra, suggested that it’s likely I haven’t worked through my hang-ups about being a grieving father who turned to Daddy play as a means of escapism. That I’m still stuck on my fears that the guys might think it weird or perverted or God only knows what.
And she’s probably right.
The fact that it took my boy spanking some sense into me to clear my head enough to seek help is another giveaway. On some level, I’m still feeling guilty and still feel like I’m doing something wrong, something deserving of punishment and scorn.
Sandra also suspects that I’m also more likely to be feeling raw, given that what would have been Aiden’s thirtieth birthday is looming only a couple of months away now.
“There are words for spouses who lose their husbands or wives, and for children who lose their parents, but no word to describe a parent whose child has died,” she said in our first session and those words come back to me now. “Because it’s unthinkable, Ted. And it’s understandable to continue to grieve and feel that pain, even twenty-eight years after the fact. Letting others see that you’re struggling with it, especially around milestone dates, doesn’t have to be a bad thing. You don’t have to be strong and rational all the time. You’re human.”
The thing is, I know these things. I know that if my position was reversed and it was one of the other guys struggling, I’d tell him all the same stuff Sandra has said to me. But my main issue is pride and I know it. And I’m slowly working through it. The fact that the guys are letting me slip back into the chat without a fuss makes it easier.
Speaking of…
My phone’s ringing brings me out of my thoughts and I’m not surprised to see Charlie’s name (accompanied by a photo of him goofing around as he dressed for his wedding) flash on my screen.
What does surprise me is my lack of any inner-turmoil as I answer.
“Hi Charlie.”
“Hey,” he greets me, then pauses a little awkwardly. I hate that my issues have played such a large role in putting this distance between us. He clears his throat. “Brains over brawn, huh?”
I chuckle at his attempt to break the ice and lean back in my office chair, refraining from propping my feet up on my desk, though the urge to stretch out is there. “You always take the bait so well.”
“Heh,” he offers his own little huff of amusement and I can imagine him blushing a little, “I guess I do.” There’s another pause before he says, “I, uh, I wanted to apologize properly, Ted.”
“I appreciate that,” I respond easily, having anticipated something like this from him. I’ve even spoken to Sandra about it. “But you don’t really have anything to apologize for. Not really.”
“I was kind of a dick, man. I mean, before everything went down. I…” he clears his throat, “I told myself I was giving you the space you asked for but, honestly? I was being selfish because I had no idea what to say to you. And that was wrong of me. And then I wouldn’t let it go, and everything went to hell, and-”
“Charlie, it’s fine. Really.”
This time it genuinely is. I admit that I was annoyed with him at first. Irritated that he had made such a big deal out of his sister’s throwaway words, to the point where I’d felt backed into a corner. But distance, therapy, and time to think have helped me work through those frustrations, too. And, honestly, I can’t hold it against my best friend that he was being hypersensitive on my behalf, can I? Not when I miss his company as badly as I do. He meant well. He cared. That means something to me, even if the way he showed it was frustrating.
“I’m still-”
“I swear, if you apologize again, I’m going to put you in a corner for ten minutes the next time I see you.”
As expected, my threat earns me a laugh. “I’d like to see you try, old man,” he taunts. “I’m not the Walker who responds to those sorts of consequences.”
“Like your bratty brother really does, either.” Not that I can say I’ve tried to school Josh. A Little though he might be, he’s also not my type. He’s also beyond the age limit I’m comfortable pursuing…but that’s irrelevant because I’m a taken man anyway. Well, I am now. And I wouldn’t trade Zephyr for anything.
“You’d still have more luck disciplining him than a fellow Daddy and you know it.” Charlie’s response cuts off the strange path my thoughts just went down. “But I was actually talking about Ash.”
“Either way,” I acknowledge, “I’m happy to leave Josh to another unsuspecting Daddy.”
Charlie chuckles and, after a few more lighthearted exchanges, reluctantly says, “Alright, I’d better run, but…Ted?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s good to hear your voice. I’ve missed you.”
