Something inside Teddy seems to break at that. “You barely raised me at all,” he says. “You threw away our savings, our home, ourfamilyfor a few rounds of poker. You promised to get help and you didn’t. You promised you wouldn’t disappear again and you did. You promised you’d never touch Mom’s bank account and you wiped it out in one weekend. And instead of sticking around to fix it, you took off.” His voice is rising, his eyes wet with tears. “It isn’t enough to send a bunch of stupid presents when you win. Stuff we don’t even need. We neededyou,and you weren’t there, and now it’s too late. You know how many times you emailed me last year? Four. It takes likethreeseconds, and you couldn’t be bothered. Not even on my birthday. So you can’t just show up now and expect things to go back to normal. There is no normal. You made sure of that.”
Charlie’s head is bowed, and his tie is crooked, and he suddenly looks much older. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
Teddy’s face softens, just slightly. “I know.”
“I swear it’ll be different next time.”
“Sure,” Teddy says, nodding without much conviction.
“But maybe…,” Charlie begins, wincing even as he does, “maybe you could still give me at least some of the money. Just enough to cover this bet, you know?”
For a second Teddy doesn’t move. Then he pulls out his wallet. “This is all I have,” he says, handing over a stack of twenties.
“Come on,” Charlie says, his eyes pleading. “There’s got to be more somewhere. I know you’re holding out on me.”
Teddy only shakes his head, his shoulders sagging as Charlie’s face twists again.
“When did you get to be so heartless?” he mutters as he heads for the door, stepping out into the hallway and slamming it behind him.
For a while none of us say anything. But the words continue to ring out in the quiet apartment, and when I glance over at Teddy it’s to see him standing with a hand over his chest, right where his heart is, as if checking to make sure it’s still there.
On Friday morning, I’m waiting at the window when a limo pulls up in front of the house. It’s not quite light out yet, the sky still dark at the edges, and I close the door softly behind me so I don’t wake anyone. We already said our goodbyes last night, when Uncle Jake pressed some extra money into my hand, and Aunt Sofia made me promise to text at least three times a day, and Leo ruffled my hair and told me to be good.
Now the house is quiet and I feel an odd pang of loss as I walk away from it, like I’m doing more than just leaving for a weekend, like I’m somehow saying goodbye.
Which of course isn’t true.
It’s only a weekend away. I’ll be back on Sunday night.
Still, when I glance back at the narrow brownstone, my chest feels tight with unexpected emotion and I hurry the rest of the way down the path to the limo, suddenly eager to get under way. The driver steps out to take my bag, then opens the door for me, revealing Teddy, who is sprawled out on the backseat with a small crystal bowl of candy in one hand and a bottle of sparkling water in the other.
“Welcome,” he says grandly as I crawl inside, falling into the seat opposite him. He holds out the candy dish. “Mint?”
“I’m good,” I say, glancing around at the sleek leather interior.
“Then sit back and relax. When you travel with Teddy ‘Moneybags’ McAvoy, you travel in style.”
“So it would seem.”
“Stop looking so tense,” Teddy says, straightening up in his seat. “I know you’re sitting there thinking about how much this costs and how many poor starving kids that money would feed, but I swear I’m going to feed some starving kids with all this money too. And in the meantime I want to make this weekend great. Plus, this is my first-ever limo ride. So let’s just enjoy it, okay?”
“It’s my first limo ride too,” I admit, and Teddy looks overjoyed.
“Well, see?” he says, putting on his sunglasses, though it’s definitely still too dark to need them. “This is gonna be fun. I promise.”
On the plane I’m more surprised than I should be to find that we’re seated in first class, which is another first for me. “You get free ice cream,” Teddy whispers once we get settled in. “And hot towels. And real silverware with themeal.”
“How do you know?”
“Spring break,” he says, clearly pleased to be the seasoned pro. Without warning he lunges across me, reaching for the control panel on the arm of my seat, his shoulder brushing against mine, his face suddenly very close. “Watch this.”
He presses a button and my seat slides back, a footrest popping up out of nowhere. “Very cool,” I say as I move the seat upright again. “So…any word from your dad?”
There was no response from Charlie after he stormed out that night, and there’s been no response in the days since.
Teddy sighs, more impatient than anything else. “Nope.”
“I’m sure he’s okay,” I say, and he grunts, because that’s not the point. Charlie is always okay. He’ll turn up eventually in Salt Lake City, or maybe Vegas, and eventually, when he’s ready, he’ll resume his usual pattern of spotty communication.
