Second First Impressions Read online

  I screech like a pterodactyl. “You’re both dead. Do you hear me? Dead.” I try to grab at the doorframe when we pass it, but no luck. All I can think of is: What would Rose Prescott say if she could see me now?

  Teddy says, “See ya, Mel. You’re on your own this afternoon. I’m keeping her.” Off we go, down the path. The pavers scroll underneath me. “Look after my boy,” he calls back at her. “He’s gluten intolerant.”

  I bellow, “There’s an instruction sheet in the black binder I made for you with the lockup procedures. Set the alarm. Lock the door. Text me when you lock the door.”

  “What? I can’t hear you.”

  “Lock the—”

  She bawls back, “I’ll waste company time and work on the Sasaki Method. Don’t do anything too naughty. See you tomorrow, not too early.”

  Life is now this hypnotic swing and the sound of his footsteps. I’m possibly lying in the coma ward at the hospital having the best dream of my life. This ass. How is he carrying me so easily? How do I fit onto one of his shoulders? “Please don’t drop me,” I clutch at the waistband of his pants when he steps around a tortoise.

  “Don’t grip too tight, you might tear them off. Relax, I’m not gonna drop you. I got her,” he yells down the path. “Look at me, Caveman Teddy. So . . . Rose has been giving you a hard time. I’m sorry.” He apologizes very earnestly. “She’s fairly terrifying.”

  “You haven’t met Sylvia.” I don’t know their family situation, but I am guessing Rose and Teddy are children from different marriages.

  The coldness in her tone when she spoke about Teddy was incomprehensible. He’s so . . . warm. Figuratively and literally. When he pauses to bob and bounce me up again, my hands slide. I’m technically just holding on. This hill is going to end and I shudder in sorrow.

  “Like a sack of taters.” Renata is upside down when Teddy pulls to a halt. I resent her, this flat ground, the nearby car.

  “I always thought girls liked being swept off their feet,” Teddy replies to her as he lowers me down. “But this one doesn’t.”

  “Oh, they like it, all right,” Renata says knowingly. “Look at those pink cheeks.”

  “Sorry about these two,” Aggie says to me, dignified as always. “I really do think they’re a bad influence on each other. Shall we go to lunch? We need to stop along the way to service my addiction.” I think she means she needs to check her lottery tickets.

  “Ladies,” Teddy says, the sun glinting off his “Hot Stuff” badge. “Allow me.” He runs to each back door, helping the old ladies in. My door is opened too. “Hey,” he says near my ear before I get in. “You smell so nice. Must be from all that marinating in the bathtub.”

  I drop so heavily into my seat that the entire car bounces. The feel of his shoulder is still pressed into my stomach.

  “I think that was fun,” Aggie translates. I glance back to her; she’s holding hands with her sister, how adorable. I’m relieved to see her looking quite bright and awake.

  “How have your hands been?” I ask her. She shrugs, like, what can you do? In response, Renata picks up the one she’s holding and begins to rub it tenderly.

  I have thought this many times during my employment: how nice it must be to live with someone who loves you when you’re old. The thought is chased by a sudden sense of urgency, and I reflexively think of Melanie’s dating plan for me. I really need to make a decision on the rest of my life. No pressure.

  During the whole car ride to lunch, we laugh at Teddy. He improvs several different characters:

  Eddie the Livestock Trucker (“Keep it down back there, you rowdy l’il cows!”)

  Tedderick the Nervous Driver (“Oh my hubcaps, oh shivers, oh Lordy.”)

  Prescott Providence the Bodyguard (I think he quotes Kevin Costner, but I’ll have to look it up later.)

  “I was born for this,” he declares, tipping his chauffeur hat suavely at a pedestrian at the traffic lights. “I want to thank you for helping me find my life’s purpose.”

  (His long thighs in that tweedy gray fabric are my new life’s purpose.)

  “Our absolute pleasure,” Aggie tells him. Renata just grins and looks out the window.

  Happiness fills the car, and it hits me that leaving Providence wasn’t hard at all; not when I was carried out, kicking and screaming. I’ve known so many Parloni boys, and this is the only one who cared enough to do that. I look over at Teddy’s profile; he’s looking in the rearview mirror, smiling at his bosses with unfakable fondness.

  He put me back on the ground a while back now, but I feel like my heart has remained draped over his shoulder. It can’t beat in a normal way now. I hope he doesn’t notice my inconvenient crush. I will pray on my knees tonight that Melanie doesn’t notice it, because I’d be dead meat.

  He looks over at me and a record player needle skips in my stomach. “You okay?” I have to laugh and shake my head, because the answer is: probably not.

  Teddy stops the Rolls-Royce in front of an intimidating-looking restaurant. It’s in a building smothered in creeping ivy. “We have arrived at our destination, Snobsville,” he declares. Like the good little chauffeur he is, he jumps out swiftly and extracts Aggie first and she hangs on to his arm until she’s safely up the curb.

  “Me now,” Renata yells at him. I open my own door and get out. From what I can see of the restaurant, I’m underdressed. Maybe Teddy and I can find a burger around here. “Famished,” Renata adds as she straightens her clothes and runs a veined hand through her hair. “Absolutely parched, too.” Hooking her arm into Aggie’s, they walk straight in, not looking back.

  Teddy sheds the waistcoat with the “Hot Stuff” name tag and Frisbees his hat into the passenger seat before handing the car key to the valet. Now he’s standing there in those sexy trousers and a white shirt. As he loops a tie around his neck, he looks like a trendy young professional heading in for an expensive client lunch.

  It feels like the light is reflecting off his new gold watch, straight through my chest, blinding my heart. He gives me a playful eye roll when he notices I’m watching. “I went to private school, I know how to do a knot.” The next knot he performs is on his hair.

  “Being good-looking really does transition you into any situation.” I shake my head at the unfairness of it. I point through the glass. “Look at Renata making the staff panic. Whatever table they have for her, she won’t want it.”

  “What’s the point of being old and rich if you can’t flex it?” He makes a fair point. We push through the front door. Behind my ear, he says, “Could you expand on how good-looking you think I am?” His hand slides on my waist.

  “Theodore,” I yip and he just smiles like I told him anyway. There is definitely a table for four with a reserved sign, but two tables of two are being hastily reset.

  “We’re sitting here. You two have to sit by yourselves,” Renata booms across dozens of well-dressed people eating their meals. “How very romantic.” Every single person lowers their cutlery and looks at me. I feel like every single loose thread in my outfit is visible. Renata isn’t done. “Ruthie, you can practice having a date before the real thing comes along.”

  “The real thing?” Teddy repeats. “Pinch me. Last time I checked, I was real.”

  “You know what she means.” I am neon pink with embarrassment. The entire silent room of diners watch, cutlery still lowered, as we weave through to our designated table. Teddy pulls out my chair and I ease down into it.

  “This menu has no prices,” Teddy observes. “That’s not a good sign.”

  “Your friends have advised us that they will be ordering for you,” the hovering waiter says. “Any dietary restrictions?”

  “Just basic poverty.” Teddy is gratified when I laugh. He rubs his hands together. “Free lunch. Everything’s coming up Teddy. Is it weird that I’m kind of obsessing about my tortoise?” He sends a text. “Mel promised me updates.”

  “Sometimes when I have a really sick one, I make excu
ses to go up and check it.”

  He nods. “You’re the only one who knows how it feels. How come we can take them to the Reptile Zoo for free?” He nudges my foot under the table. “Who came up with the forms?”

  “I just knew that they were endangered, so I made some calls and the zoo sent some people up to Providence. The forms were me, of course. Any excuse for more paperwork,” I joke, but he shakes his head at the self-deprecation.

  “So you created the entire rehab program for an endangered species. By yourself. I bet your horrible Sylvia doesn’t approve.” He sees the answer on my face. “Mel told me you have to fund-raise. These Providence people have enough money under their couch cushions to fund the Christmas party ten times over.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It should. People take too much from you. Make sure Rose doesn’t trample you too.” He holds up his phone to change the subject. Melanie has sent a selfie of herself staring into TJ’s Kleenex box most diligently. She’s made a paper nurse’s hat and decorated it with a red cross. “That girl is a complete nut,” he says fondly.

  For one shivering moment, I marry them in my mind. What a sweet story for their wedding. And I told her, the only one I trust is you. A toast to my bride! I bet I’ll have to help their caterers clean up empty glasses.

  Even while having a bad daydream, I can sound normal. “Even tortoise daddies need to take a break.”

  “I know it’s weird. I’ve never had a pet.” Before I can explore that with him—surely as a kid he could have had a pony if he wanted it?—he blinks away the sadness and smooths the tablecloth. “Well, this is very fancy. Did the other Parloni boys get free lunches?”

  “I don’t think so. I think you’re special. I mean—”

  “Very special, how kind,” he agrees in a warm voice. Then he grabs at one of the tiny bread rolls and slathers it with butter. Scarfs it down. “What was the last boy like?”

  I lean back in my chair and straighten my cutlery. “That would be Phillip. He was studying journalism and ran a blog about sneakers. He drew the line at ironing practical joke underwear.”

  “What, you mean that ratty leopard-print thong they keep pranking me with? I’ve found far worse in the bottom of my sheets.” He says that too loud and our neighbors turn their heads. “I folded it in that Japanese way, down to the size of a matchbox.”

  I laugh. “Sounds like you’re a tidy boy sometimes.”

  He replies, “Since I met you, I’ve been folding everything. I’ve lived in mess my entire life. I want a label maker. I want to tattoo my belongings. Tell me about the boy before Phillip.” Teddy inserts a second bread roll into his mouth.

  I’m distracted because I just saw something real and deep down, underneath his easy smile. I don’t think being a Prescott is as easy as I’d assumed.

  “The boy before Phillip was Brayden. Nineteen, chronically unemployed. He was shocked to be given the job. It was sad how elated he was. He hung around the front office, getting in my way.”

  I think he asks through his mouthful: “How’d she break him?”

  I smile against my will. “She pretended to be dead and he ran away and never came back. For all he knows, she did die.” I turn and watch Renata laughing with Aggie. “It was so unnecessary. Sometimes I wonder if she’s actually evil.”

  “I think she tried that with me. I changed the TV channel; that restarted her heart. And before him?” He’s buttered a third roll, but something makes him freeze. It’s me. Do I have some kind of expression on my face? “Sorry, I was in a bread frenzy. Excuse my fingers.”

  He puts the torn, buttered roll on my plate. I can do it myself, but I didn’t have to just now. And that’s why it’s the most delicious bread roll I ever had.

  In between bites I tell him, “Luke was about twenty. He skateboarded down the hill, hit a tortoise, and fell off. He tried to sue Providence. Luckily, I’d written down each time I’d warned him not to do it. Time and date.”

  “A lawyer’s dream. A model employee,” Teddy tells me in a praising way, but I still feel embarrassed. Goody-Two-shoes. “Want another one?” He hovers his hand over the breadbasket. “You need some carbs. Thank God I saved you from your tin of soup.”

  “Yes, please. I saved your dad from a lawsuit. More inheritance for you.” I accept a glass of wine from the waiter but I won’t drink it.

  “Drink it,” Renata shouts across the room.

  Teddy shakes his head. “That’s me. Just killing time, waiting for that inheritance of mine that I’m definitely entitled to.” He butters the next roll with a bit of violence. “Over Rose’s dead body.”

  I need his smile back. “Cheers, Teddy. Congratulations on probably being the longest-serving assistant to Renata and Aggie Parloni.” We clink glasses and I take a sip of the sour wine. It’s awful, but I have to grow up.

  I remember what Mel said about this being a client lunch. Maybe I should be trying to have a professional meeting with Jerry’s son.

  “PDC hasn’t known we existed before now. I don’t know what this review is really for. We were totally forgotten.” Resentment colors my tone and he probably hears it.

  “I ruined everything when I showed up, huh?” He waits. When he sees me trying to choose my reply, the light in him goes out. “She’ll do a review of the assets and liabilities and make a presentation to the board. She’ll tell them what will make PDC the most money. If that hill is worth more covered in high-rises, she’ll do it.”

  I wonder what other inside knowledge he has without realizing it. “And is she a lovely person who has a soft spot for the elderly?”

  “She probably had a toy bulldozer as a kid.” His expression is blank and I don’t like it. He picks up his phone and yawns, effectively exiting this conversation.

  “Probably? You don’t know for sure?” I sip more wine. “Maybe you could convince her to come and visit. If she just sees it in person—”

  “I’m going to tell you a fact about me,” he says, and when his eyes meet mine again, I get a sharp, scared drop inside. He’s now a zero-nonsense adult man. “I always know when someone is hoping I can be useful in some sort of Prescott way. I like you a lot, so I’m going to give you a spoiler on how this turns out. I can’t get involved. If you’re imagining I have some kind of influence, you are miles from the truth.”

  I respond with emotion. “Don’t you care that Providence is home to so many elderly people who don’t deserve to be uprooted at this time in their lives? The stress could kill them.”

  He looks over at his employers and I see true regret. “I do care. But I can’t help you. Even if I wanted to, Rose wouldn’t allow it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The waiter interrupts to present us with pale, unappetizing salads. The plates are dotted with enough dressing to coat one taste bud, plus garnish flowers I’ve seen growing on roadsides. My stomach makes a noise like a disappointed Melanie.

  “Is this a tomato?” Teddy’s holding up something on his fork, begging for a subject change. “Is it a see-through beet? A dead onion?”

  “It’s the ghost of a tomato,” I decide, and we scrape around our plates for something edible. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful about a free lunch, but so far, the buttered roll is the standout.”

  He asks me now, “Your parents still together?” I nod in reply. “What do they do for a living?”

  I guess I’m going to have to cross this bridge now. It’s an unsexy bridge, which makes people think it’s a shortcut to understanding why I’m like this. “You are having lunch with the Reverend’s Daughter.” I take another wincing sip of wine.

  “Don’t drink it,” Teddy says.

  “Not even one second after learning I am a reverend’s daughter, you’ve decided I’m too sheltered to drink wine?” I open my mouth and gulp it all. I breathe out wine fumes and feel like I swallowed a lit match.

  “No, I was saying don’t drink it because you clearly don’t like it. You don’t have to do everything
Renata says. She’s less than five feet tall. What’s she gonna do to you?” Teddy sips from his water glass. He’s a chauffeur, after all. “Do you still go to church?”

  “If I’m visiting home, I’ll go to avoid a fight. But I don’t have a church I go to here. My dad is disappointed in me.” It’s quite frankly amazing how I’ve managed to KonMari those feelings into a matchbox. I’ve lost faith in the church, and my dad has lost faith in me. Which came first? I hold up my glass to a waiter. “I need another glass, please.”

  Before I can answer, Renata’s voice cuts through the room, making patrons around us wince. “What are you two little lovebirds talking about?”

  Teddy lets me field this one. I can’t even stage-whisper, because her hearing isn’t good enough. “Daddy issues?”

  “Carry on,” she says waving her knife airily. And because Teddy’s eyes are bright with amusement when I turn back around, the stares from the diners around us don’t affect me in the way I thought they would. Who cares.

  The wine has curled up inside me, warm and snug. I should probably try to soak it up. I point at the bread rolls and Teddy begins to butter another one for me. “You just do them better than me,” I explain and he doesn’t think it’s strange. “I’m hungry and somehow already drunk?” The waiter gives me my second glass with perfect timing.

  Teddy assesses me. “You’ve only had two bread rolls and the ghost of a tomato. Can I ask what’s for mains?”

  “Spatchcock,” is the waiter’s listless reply. “But soup is coming.”

  “We’re too hungry for mini chickens. Could we change our order? Let’s go for the steak. That okay, Ruthie?” The waiter is very irritated and walks off. Teddy is pretty pleased with himself. “I’ll be in trouble for that later.”

  “Thank goodness the Parlonis are paying. I’m broke.” I could use that money Teddy owes me, but I don’t care about it anymore. He’s a day out at the carnival and I’m happy with the price I paid.

  “I haven’t forgotten.” He digs around in his back pocket. There’s the unmistakable sound of Velcro ripping, and a nearby woman looks over at his lower body in alarm. “Oh please no,” he groans, patting his hip. “Not now, not here.”