Page 29 of Holiday Star
Later, when his grief over Dad started to fade and he went to high school, we still played ball. Playing basketball was when he told me about his first crush, Julie, when he was a sophomore. And it was how I learned she had left him and broken his heart when he was a junior.
Teddy wasn’t the only one who benefited from those long hours together. I was more than happy to bask in the attention he gave me on the court. Since Dad was gone and Mom was working, I was always looking for something or someone to distract me from my loneliness.
This year, once he left for college, all that changed. Now it’s like he’s pushing me away. Trying to keep his distance.
It hurts.
“What’s up Teddy?” I attempt to sound casual. Worried if I put too much pressure on him, he’ll shut me out completely.
“Not a lot,” he replies evenly.
I wait, because clearly something is going on. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have called.
After a long pause, he admits, “I don’t think I like it here, in Michigan.”
“What? Why?” I’m surprised. He’s sounded depressed the past few times we’ve talked, but I assumed it was from the stress of his final exams.
“It’s cold and lonely.”
I remember back to how dreary New York had been when I left. How the snow had swirled in through the ER doors during that last shift.
“This is your first non-California winter, Teddy. That’s all. You’ll get used to it, eventually. Probably, it’s extra hard because you’re missing Christmas at home.”
A beat of silence. “It’s not that simple. I hate college. The classes are boring. Engineering isn’t what I thought it would be. I want to solve complicated problems, build cool things. Instead, it’s calculations and abstract concepts. That’s all I’m learning about.”
I hear voices in the background of wherever he’s at. There’s the sound of him moving around and of a door closing. Those outside noises fade. I’m guessing he’s in the tiny dorm room he gets free as part of his payment for being an RA.
“Don’t make fun of me, okay?” He coughs and then rasps out, “I miss home. I thought I could go far away, that it would be cool to experience someplace different, but walking to school through the snow every single day sucks. The sky is always gray. I mean seriously, I haven’t seen the sun in weeks. Over Thanksgiving break, I was so happy to be in California. I didn’t want to come back here.”
Wow.This is a bigger deal than I realized. I get it, what he’s talking about. I miss my family and Jenny too. Sometimes, when I first got to New York, homesickness had been like a ravenous animal, eating me up from the inside until I was left hollow, totally empty. It’s better now that some time has passed, but maybe Teddy can’t move past it, that feeling.
“What do Mom and Seth say? Do they think you should quit?” I’m surprised I didn’t find out about this sooner.
“That’s the thing.” He sighs. “I haven’t told anyone else yet.”
“What?” I ask, incredulous. “Mom’s gonna freak. You know how hard it was for her when you left.”
Mom had taken it badly, watching her baby go off to college. She cried, said she wasn’t ready to have an empty nest. It occurs to me now that might be part of why she was so eager to move to Japan. It’s possible she needed a change of pace, something new, to help redefine herself.
I should do that, too. Redefine myself. Become someone more than just boring, predictable, sensible Gwen. Daughter of a dead man.
Teddy says, “That’s why I haven’t said anything. I feel guilty for putting Mom through all that. She was so upset.” He pauses and I wait, sensing he needs to say something big. “Do you ever think our family is a little strange? Like how Mom babies us... and how sometimes we like that she does.”
I’m quiet for a minute, astonished that Teddy is bringing this up. It’s something we never talk about. “I mean, yeah, but after everything with Dad I think it’s understandable that we’re a bit dysfunctional. We had to cling to each other to get through that. Right?”
“Except for Brandon. He went the opposite direction, away from us.” There’s an undertone of resentment from Teddy. He had looked up to his big brother. It’s crazy for me to realize it now, after so much time has passed, but in a way we lost our father, mother,andbrother all at once. Who wouldn’t be messed up after that?
“Brandon was pissed,” I remind him. “Angry about what happened. I think being around us back then was too painful. He’s better now. Liv and the twins helped.”
There’s a long silence between us, not uncomfortable but full of unexpressed emotions. Mostly sadness. Grief is a rock thrown into a lake. Its ripples keep reaching the shore long after the stone has sunk below the surface.
“Anyway, about college,” I say, bringing the conversation back to our original topic. “You need to talk to Mom. Delaying telling her won’t help.”
“I know. I’m waiting for the right time.” A long, gloomy sigh. “Please tell me that you’ve done something worse, Gwen. Something that Mom was super-mad at you about, but she eventually got over.”
I shouldn’t tell him, but I’m so happy that he reached out to me with his problems. That after months of barely talking, he finally calledmeof all the many people in our family to talk to. I want to reward him, to reinforce this connection between us.
The words come spilling out. “Not sure if this counts, since Mom doesn’t officially know about it, but Ihavedone something she wouldn’t approve of.”
