Page 67 of True Blue

My patience snaps once more.

“She should talk to someone if she’s still feeling like this. She needs to process her grief, not use you as a crutch.”

Teddy frowns immediately. “She is processing it. She’s just grieving, Indie. She was the same way when Pop died.”

"I know," I say, teeth clenched. "But so are you."

Teddy looks lost. “What does that mean?”

“It means I think you’re focusing so much on your mother’s grief that you’re not leaving enough room to process yours.”

“I don’t believe that,” Teddy says stubbornly.

“She calls, and you go running. You’ve barely been sleeping—look at your eyes, for fuck’s sake.”

Teddy looks caught and immediately averts his gaze, like he can hide the exhaustion written in every line of his face.

“You’re running yourself ragged waiting on her hand and foot, and you get nothing in return.”

“That’s not true,” Teddy shakes his head, stubborn.

“No?” I challenge him. “You can’t even tell them that you want to be an artist. It’s always all about your mother—what about you, Teddy?”

“What about me?” Teddy fires back. “I’m leaving to go to Cape May with you, Indie. I’m moving nine hundred miles away from my home. I’ll only be seeing my family a couple of times a year now. I’m moving for you.”

I flinch.

It’s an explanation, but it also feels like a jab.

"I know," I murmur, cheeks hot.

Teddy takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment, like he regrets how it came out.

“I want to spend some time with my family.”

My frustration dissolves.

Right.

That makes sense.

That is actually a really good reason.

I scrub my hand down my face. “I know, Teddy, I just⁠—”

“My Nana just died, and my mom is a wreck,” he says, voice rough. “I’m all she has, Indie.”

I frown. “What about your father?”

Teddy looks uncomfortable.

“He’s not good with feelings. You know that.”

“He could learn to be the man your mother needs.”

“He’s set in his ways. He’s from a different generation. They’re not good with feelings.”

“God, do you even hear yourself, Teddy?” I ask, staring at him. “You sound just like her. Excusing away anything that could be fixed.”