Wait a second. “Have you been using my shampoo? That’s theft. No wonder you’ve been extra lustrous lately.”
He pulls back and won’t be distracted. “Can you tell me what happened?” He doesn’t mean right now. He means the years-ago thing. “Most people don’t check every door the way you do.”
“How on earth did you steal shampoo without me noticing?” I’m pushing away until the wheels of the chair begin to roll. “I wish I’d spoken to Brianna a little more, to find out if you’ve always been like this. If you want something from me, just ask.”
“What I want to know is this story that’s been eating you up.” His hands pull the chair back. “An alarm going off and ruining your night out is annoying, but it isn’t the end of the world. But it felt like it was to you. You can tell me.”
I blow out a breath. It’s been years since I’ve spoken out loud about this. “When I was sixteen I learned the importance of security. That’s all.”
He shakes his head. “That’s all? I don’t think so.”
I’ve never had anyone ask me about this, so I don’t know where to start. The beginning, I suppose?
“When I was sixteen, our church had a huge fund-raising event to raise money for . . . something. A hurricane, or an earthquake. The event was a really big deal. The local radio station was broadcasting from it. There were games, a pageant, a pie-eating contest, the works. It was really wholesome. It was like an episode of Heaven Sent.”
“I can picture it. Just FYI, I imagine your dad as Pastor Pierce.”
I smile reluctantly. “I wish. Anyway, my boyfriend, Adam, came along. I thought I was in love. He went to a different school, so spending the day together was a treat. Chaperoned by his parents and mine, of course.” When I think back to that day, all I can remember is the color of Adam’s polo top and the stench of bloody smoke coming off the grilling steaks. “Our parents approved of the relationship. Everything was perfect.”
Teddy’s starting to grimace. “I ha
te the part of the story where something goes wrong for you. But it’s coming.” He shuffles closer on his knees. “This is the part that hurts, isn’t it?”
I take a deep breath. “There was a charity auction that boosted the total. At the end of the day, we counted ten thousand dollars. It was a huge amount, more than we’d ever imagined, and it was cash. People had been really generous. Ten thousand dollars. My dad told me to go and put it in his office.”
“Oh.” Teddy’s got a doomed note in his voice. “Oh shit.”
Talking about this only feels possible because Teddy is such a good listener. It’s what I’ve always liked best about him. His expression is always changing as I speak. His face softens with sympathy or pinches with concern, his eyes flaring with surprise or loyal outrage hardening his brow. The way he listens to me makes it feel possible to talk about the moment where I lost my confidence and my faith.
“I took the money up to his office. I was talking to Adam as I put it in the bottom drawer of Dad’s desk. The money got stolen early that evening, probably when we were all eating leftovers from the barbecue.”
Teddy’s looking grim. “What did the police say?”
“My parents didn’t call them. It was too humiliating for them to admit it to everyone that the huge fund raiser had been for nothing because their daughter didn’t lock the door. There was no forced entry.”
“Ruthie,” Teddy says with such sympathy.
“My dad was so angry. He said I was too caught up in myself and a boy to do the one thing he’d asked me to. Ten thousand dollars. Gone.”
“The only person who’s at fault is the person who stole that money.”
“So the last bad thing to happen was that my parents used what little there was in my college fund to cover the amount that was stolen. They talked for a long time and considered covering it up completely. But it wasn’t enough of a lesson. Dad made me stand up in front of everyone on Sunday and explain my carelessness. And I was giving up my dream of becoming a vet to make it right.”
“That’s complete bullshit.” Teddy is lit with anger. He looks like a devil, kneeling at my feet.
I’m taken aback by how infuriated he is. “Why are you mad? I deserved it.”
“They should have stood up for you. If you said you locked the door, you did it.”
“But I didn’t. I just can’t remember. It’s the black spot in my memory. And I swore to myself that I’d never feel that way again. From that point on, I’ve used checklists and routine to manage myself. I was hoping you and Melanie hadn’t noticed.”
“And what about Adam? Did he stand up for you?” Teddy’s eyes narrow when I look away. “Your mom? Surely she believed you?” He falls silent. “You could have been a vet, but instead all your college money was spent on a hurricane. I can’t believe how much of yourself you’ve had to give over the years.”
“I wasn’t delusional; I didn’t think I’d actually be a vet one day, but maybe a vet nurse? Once the savings account went to zero, we all knew it wasn’t going to happen for me. What the actual worst part was, my dad could find forgiveness for anyone in that congregation, but not for me. He lost faith in me, and I lost my faith in God.”
Teddy leans back from me to see my face better.
“I think I have to go punch a hole in a fence or something. Ruthie, I’m going to tell you something, and you need to believe me, okay? Are you ready?” I nod. “What happened to you was shitty and I’m sorry. And I want you to know that it’s time to let it go.” He considers my face and decides to take a risk. “I’ve got a therapist I see sometimes. I could give you her details.”