Dead serious, Teddy says, “I know thirty ways.”

If Teddy Prescott came into my bedroom and showed me what he knows, it wouldn’t matter how thin our walls are or how much noise I made. He’d be the only one at Providence who’d hear me.

“I know fifty ways to hide your dead body,” Melanie scolds, tapping Teddy on the top of the head with a ruler. “Ruthie is looking for a soul mate, not a genital mate. Get that through your thick skull.”

CHAPTER NINE

On Day 2 of Teddy’s employment, he walks into the office and sets down the Kleenex box containing TJ on Melanie’s desk. She regards the box with suspicion. “Yuck. I don’t know why you want it, Teddy. Let Ruthie keep it.”

“That’s my son you’re insulting,” he returns.

“He’s looking okay, all things considered,” I remark as I watch the tiny creature munch on a dandelion. “I’ll find out when the Reptile Zoo people are coming for him.”

“I have an invitation for you. It’s got terms and conditions, of course, but don’t worry. The strings are only attached to me.” He reaches under his butt and unearths a warm envelope with my name on it. “Why is everyone waiting for me to quit, by the way? This job isn’t that hard.”

He’s got a smudge of something black on his cheekbone. There are cobwebs in his hair and his shoulders are powdered gray. He sneezes and says, “I’ve never had such an easy job.”

“Why are you so dirty?” Melanie asks him as I open the envelope.

“They made me go up a ladder to tidy the attic.”

I look up. “The town houses don’t have attics.”

“Well, duh, that would be too easy. I just pretended the crawl space was an attic full of antiques and dead bodies. They laughed their asses off. I had a power nap on a big cushion of insulation.” He grins at the memory. “I’m going to dream about ghosts tonight.”

I give the invitation my full attention. It is a square card with a border inked dense with vines and roses. I bet he did it in an absent-minded couple of minutes. He wears his talent like a dirty five-dollar T-shirt.

“This is pretty enough to be a wedding invitation,” I tell him. He shrugs like it’s nothing but his eyes flare bright with pleasure. “Maybe you could help us with the Christmas party decorations.”

I read the invitation out loud because Melanie is almost hurting herself craning to see. “Ruthie Midona is formally invited to an all-expenses paid fancy lunch and afternoon of goofing off with the Parlonis, Friday at 12 noon. RVSP yes verbally, immediately, to T. Prescott.” Melanie releases an anguished howl. Her name was nowhere in those words. I’m not that overjoyed myself. I put it aside. “Okay, so it’s not really an invitation. It’s a summons.”

“Not exactly,” Teddy tries, but he’s unsure of what the afternoon has in store. I’ve known the Parloni sisters for years.

“It’s fancy jury duty. I’m going to have to sit on a white couch in a boutique and watch Renata try on outfits with Aggie asleep on my shoulder. I’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

“I should tell you that declining isn’t really an option,” Teddy says apologetically. “Renata said I’ll have to carry you to the car if you say no.”

Mel says to him, “Seriously? I’m not invited too? I’ll carry you if it means I get out of this place.”

“I need you to babysit TJ,” Teddy tells her in his special persuasion voice. “I don’t trust anyone but you.” She colors up, pleased and honored. I probably have a face like a toad. He refocuses those charming eyes on me. “Might be fun though, right? Fancy lunch? Just think about it. I’m sorry, Mel, I’m just the messenger.”

While she abuses him, I sit and think. It takes me a really long time to get my foot off Providence soil some days. I know that’s not exactly normal. And to be in a car that I’m not driving— no control, no way of coming back immediately if I’m needed? I feel like I need to go sit somewhere and take a few deep breaths.

“Trust me, it’ll be okay,” Teddy says, gathering up his Kleenex box. He holds it so carefully. “I’m gonna be with you. I’ll hold your hand the whole time.”

And I find myself saying in a doubtful tone, “Okay.”

ON FRIDAY MORNING, Teddy arrives at the office, unsure of what to do. The Parlonis gifted him with a gold watch for his hours of faithful service. (Apparently Aggie called their “watch guy” who personally couriered it over. Oh, to be that wealthy.)

“I tried to make them return it. Is this even allowed?” He holds the box to me and I see what the issue is. A Parloni Checkmate: It is engraved on the back. Unreturnable. Unpawnable.

The engraving reads: Teddy Prescott, Remarkable Boy.

“I’ll say,” I say out loud by accident. As his mouth lifts in a delighted smile, I try to remain professional. “I know you didn’t manipulate them into buying this for you. I think you can keep it.” I’ve used a plunger on the Parlonis’ powder room toilet but you don’t see me getting engraved keepsakes. Instead, I get Renata’s cackled jokes about putting me in her will, if I just do this one more thing for her.

Teddy puts it on his wrist. “I haven’t had a watch since I was a kid.” He’s admiring it as he walks out to return to work.

The phone rings a while later and Melanie answers it. “It’s Jerry Prescott.”

I look at the flashing light on my phone and take a deep breath. I pick up and we do pleasantries for about thirty seconds about weather and busyness. Then he gets to it. “Just calling to check in on Teddy. How’s he settled in?”

“He’s doing fine. You just missed him, actually.”

Jerry replies, “He’s behaving himself?” I hear a young woman’s voice in the background, talking to Jerry. Something about at night. “And he’s staying on-site at night? Not off partying?”

“No, he’s been home at night. He’s working really hard, and he has a six A.M. start time. Today is Day Three and everything’s going great.” I sound like I’m bragging a bit.

Jerry laughs. “Six A.M. I didn’t think he had it in him. Rose, pay up. Twenty bucks.” They bet on whether Teddy was screwing up? How horrible.

“He’s doing a great job. He’s already gotten involved with some of the endangered tortoise rehab we do here.”

(There’s no need to mention that his size twelve boot was also the cause.)

“Don’t let him dazzle you,” Jerry says, tone dry. “He tends to do that.”

“Dazzle?” My face is surely turning pink. Melanie mouths back at me silently, like a magic incantation: dazzle.

Jerry continues in my ear, “He dazzles people. I love him, but it’s his personality flaw. He charms his way through life. There is a row of broken hearts stretching back a long, long way.”

Rose: “Is he messing around with the office girls?”

I assure Jerry, “That’s absolutely not going to happen.”

Melanie holds up a notepad: SPEAKERPHONE PLEASE.

Jerry’s struggling on how to explain this. “I don’t mean to make him sound like a con artist. In his own mind he’s very genuine, but he takes a few liberties with people who are too charitable.”

In the background, Rose says, “Theodore has never cared about anyone more than himself. The universe orbits around him. He’s the sun. Just like his mother,” she adds with maliciousness.

“That’s unfair,” I blurt out loud. Then I cover my mouth and shut my eyes. I hear Melanie’s shocked gasp. Oh my God, what is coming over me? Thankfully for me (and possibly my job), Jerry has held the phone against his chest again.

Jerry’s back. “Give him an inch, he’ll take a mile, that sort of thing. I wasn’t kidding that he’s run out of couches.”

I take a moment to consider my own couch. He lay on it last night, complaining and laughing about his day. Renata made him cut up her Big Mac into bite-size bits, and he had to feed her like a baby.

“I’d hate for him to hurt a nice girl like you. Let’s face it, you’re not his type.” There’s a big laugh from Jerry now. “But I’m sorry to say, it won’t stop him trying it with you and your temp. Making girls adore him is a reflex he just can’t control.”

“Good to know,” I manage to reply even though it feels like my tongue has swollen from mortification. “I hear what you’re saying and I appreciate your concern.” The next couch I think about is the fold-out sofa bed in my parents’ basement, ready for the next needy soul.

“He’s a lawsuit waiting to happen,” Rose warns.

Muffled conversation again. “Yes, I’ll tell her,” Jerry says, then returns to the call. “I mentioned when we met that I’ve got a lot going on at the moment. Let me tell you, Ruthie, that golf course site is no hole in one.”

I laugh because he pays my bills.

“Rose has just finished her current project and is now ready to ramp things up and make Providence her new baby.” Jerry says it like I should be delighted. I try to pretend.