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When he first looks at the woman who just entered his bakery, Ted Lasso immediately notices two things. One: she’s strikingly beautiful. Two: she’s on the verge of tears.
What has started as a beautiful day – sunshine gently coming through the windows of the small flat he shares with his son Henry, a light brush of his fingers to the frame that holds the photograph of his late wife Michelle, the taste of coffee strong in his mouth when he walked Henry to school and then met his best friend and co-owner of the shop, Beard – it all rapidly goes downhill when the woman enters, at around three in the afternoon.
“Hi, hello,” he hears. “I, I… I was wondering if you had any cakes left.”
Ted was busy pouring some coffee for one of his favorite patrons, Mae, but something in her voice prompts him to look up.
Gosh, she’s pretty. She’s nervously twisting her hands in her lap, but that’s only one of the details he notices. Blonde hair and tall like a goddess among mortals, the fact that she’s donning a cardigan under her raincoat, her hair swept up in a messy bun – this does nothing to hinder her beauty.
Her green eyes, though, are another story entirely. Tears glisten there, making them shine like jade, and he’s a little dumbstruck at first, but he rapidly comes back to his senses when Mae coughs not-so-lightly.
“Are you going to answer to the question, Lasso?”
“Oh – yeah – yeah, sorry,” he startles. “Sorry. Anyway, no. We’re all out of cakes, right now, I’m real sorry about that, ma’am.”
(You can take the guy out of the Midwest, you can’t take the Midwest out of the guy, he thinks.)
The woman’s lower lip trembles, and he is horrified to see a tear slip down her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “I knew it was a long shot, at this time of the day, but I suppose I had to try.”
Before he or Mae can utter a word, she is already turning on her heels, muttering a Thank you. He stands there, gaping like a fish, when Mae hisses, For God’s sake, do something!, and Ted feels a – sensation, like a lightning coursing through him.
“Wait!”
The woman stops in her tracks, slowly turns around.
“Yes?”
She’s crying, now, and it’s evident she wanted to make her escape before he could see her cry, but maybe – maybe there’s a reason why she didn’t exit his shop. Ted rapidly rounds the counter.
“Are you okay?” he asks, the most stupid question in the history of questions. “I mean, no, ya clearly aren’t, but – is there something I can do to help?”
She almost laughs at that, pressing the back of her hands against her cheeks. “I don’t think so, unless you can magically make a cake appear.”
“Well – ”
“It doesn’t matter,” she whispers. “I just… I didn’t want to disappoint her.”
“Her, her who?”
She takes a long, pained breath, as if she wanted to convince any other tear to stay inside. It doesn’t work, but he sees the effort, the strain in her gesture.
“My daughter.”
.:.
She ends up sitting on a chair, in the deserted bakery, the place Ted – his name is Ted, and she finds it cute – has closed ahead of hours, just for her. She would never have thought she’d end up here, in a place called The Greyhound Spot of all things, but evidently life had other plans. And she tells them, Ted and Mae, spilling everything out as if it’s their business, and why is she confiding in a couple of strangers whose names she’s learnt just now?
“I adopted her, four months ago,” Rebecca says. She presses the soft handkerchief Mae has given her against her damp cheeks, and the fabric smells of lavender and it reminds her of her own grandmother. “She’s… the most beautiful and smart and lovely little girl. I love her so much.”
“How old is she?” Mae asks.
“Seven.”
“Oh, like my son,” Ted pipes up. “A real firecracker, that one.”
Rebecca looks at him, and – no, but it can’t be.
“Wait. Lasso? Your son, Henry Lasso?”
“The one and only,” Ted says. “Although, no, I suppose that’s not true, my great-great uncle was called Henry – but as they used to sing in that Encanto movie, we don’t talk about him.” He chuckles. “Why do you know him?”
“I think they’re in the same class. Imogen, but we always call her Ginny.”
There’s a smile, blooming all at once on his face. “Oh. Ginny Welton. You’re Ginny’s mom. Of course.”
“You know her?” Rebecca says, hesitant. “I…”
“Henry always mentions lots of people, but he’s… asked many questions, lately. I think the teacher had them sit together, and, well, he’s asked me about adoption, and what it means and – oh gosh, I’m sorry, Rebecca,” he trails off, because she must have made a face. “I don’t know – I don’t know what came over me.”
“Well I’ll be damned, Ted Lasso,” Mae sighs, and she crosses her arms. “Can’t you see the girl is in distress?”
Rebecca desperately wants to cry, but to Mae’s merit, this particular sentence makes her laugh. “Been a long time since I’ve been called a girl.”
“Everyone is, when you are in your seventies,” she says, with a sort of finality that is both hilarious and wise. “Now,” she pats Rebecca’s hands. “I trust this one will help to the best of his abilities. And if he doesn’t, feel free to call me – or, you know, come to me, to complain. I’m never afraid to yell at men who behave like bloody bellends. At The Crown and Anchor, I don’t know if you know it – best pub in Richmond.”
“Heard of it, but I’ve never been,” she murmurs. “We – just moved here, actually. The place where she lived before was… well, let’s just say this is so much better.”
“Oh you poor angels,” Mae sighs. “You’re welcome anytime. And you,” she points to Ted, accusingly. “You know what to do.”
To Rebecca’s utmost surprise, Ted salutes, as if he’s a soldier, and Mae is his general. “Aye aye, captain.”
Rebecca watches, as Mae huffs again, approaches the counter and takes the bag with her order inside. “On the house!” she says happily, and saunters away, the bell above the door jingling when she passes the threshold.
Ted smiles fondly, and answers back, “for a couple pints! Ya know it!”
Then, he turns towards her, and looks at her so intently she almost feels naked under his gaze. God, she must be a mess. She suddenly is conscious of every single one of her fashion choices right now (the hair, the still-not-dirty-but-not-clean-either cardigan, her joggers that still have a couple of stains of flour and chocolate on them).
“So, Ms Welton…”
“God, please don’t call me that,” she interrupts. She sniffs. “Rebecca. It’s perfectly fine.”
“Rebecca, then.” His voice is so soft when he says it. “I was wondering. How can we turn those tears into a smile?”
“I have no idea,” she sighs.
“Maybe I know how. For starters – eat a biscuit.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“Eat a biscuit.” He motions towards the table – next to her elbow there indeed is a plate of shortbread biscuits, that she didn’t notice before. “Some sugar, for the brains.”
Rebecca shrugs. Her day’s already a disaster as it is, so why the hell not?
But when she takes a bite and the biscuit melts on her tongue –
“Fuck me,” she exclaims. She doesn’t even have time to react, because Ted is already looking at her with raised eyebrows, fighting off a smile. “Sorry. These are – well. So good, Ted.”
“Real glad to hear that. They’re still in a testing phase.”
“These are in a testing phase? I can’t wait to taste the ending result, then. God, I hope you’re fucking with me – a testing phase?”
“Nope.”
“I may need to buy them in bulk. A container of them.” She takes another bite. “Good god. Now this might sound ridiculous, but – I think this is the quickest addiction in the history of addictions.”
“Well, if the plan worked and now you feel even slightly better, I think it might have been worth it, don’tcha?”
“Slightly,” she admits around another bite. “There still is a gigantic, gargantuan problem, though. That I promised my daughter I’d make a cake, and I haven’t.”
“Lemme think.” He scratches his chin, observing her. “I can’t let you into the kitchen because safety regulations and blah blah blah. But there might be another way.” He raises an eyebrow.
She looks at him, and maybe she understands what he’s thinking about.
“So, I’m assuming you… well. Alright. You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you, Ted?”
“Afraid so.”
She sighs.
“Do you make house calls?”
.:.
He tidies up the shop the best he can with the little time he has, knowing Jamie will not be pleased to find a mess when he arrives for the morning shift. He knows what Beard would say if he were here – that he’s being his usual romantic self, that he clearly has ‘acts of service’ as his love language, but Ted doesn’t care. He sends a text to the chat, saying that something came up and he has to help a friend, and he’ll see them tomorrow, and turns the key to close the shop. Rebecca is standing right there on the curb, her hands sunk in the pockets of her raincoat. The air is chilly on his skin, and Ted starts following her, in amicable silence, until she decides to break that silence.
“I promised her a cake,” she says. It feels like the beginning of a confession. “She’s going to have a small party with a couple of friends from school, later today. A couple of girls, I don’t know if you know them, Phoebe, and Eliza…”
“Oh yeah, Phoebe Kent. Greatest midfielder in the soccer… er, football league, sorry.” He smiles. “I know her uncle Roy – that man has two weaknesses: kebabs, and our banana bread, god knows why. Something about potassium, I think he said. And… Elizabeth Harris?”
“Yes.” Rebecca keeps her eyes downcast as they walk, the wind picking up its pace. “I don’t know why, but I told her I was going to make the cake myself. I’ve never been able to make a good cake – decent cakes, yes, but this time I was adamant, and I don’t know what happened. It just… the chocolate didn’t melt, the flour exploded all over me, and it was… a mess.” She turns towards him, and now he knows why she wasn’t looking at him. Because she’s clearly emotional, and bravely soldiering through the conversation. “I really appreciate that you’re helping me, you know. I’ve always been an acceptable adult, I think, but I fear… I may not be cut out to be a mother.”
It’s bitter at best, self-deprecating at worst. Ted shakes his head with all the conviction he can muster.
“Oh heck no. I don’t know you, but I know that’s a shitload of crap. Of bollocks, as y’all like to say.”
She widens her eyes, raises her eyebrows. “And how do you know that?”
“I’ve seen how a shitty parent is, Rebecca,” he simply says. “You’re not one of them. You’re gonna have to trust me on this one.”
(And oh, how many shitty parents he’s seen in his life. Having a bakery is fun – it’s one of the greatest adventures he’s ever embarked upon, aside from raising his son, but boy, if it doesn’t lead you to see all kinds of people on a daily basis. Those parents who’d chug down a coffee while their kids scream because they desperately want a piece of cake or something sweet to eat, and he’s witnessed enough situations like that to see all sorts of reactions, and some of those reactions he’d gladly choose to forget.)
She doesn’t seem convinced, but she clearly chooses to let it go. Her house must be close by, now, because she slows down, forces out a smile. “This is me,” she says, stopping abruptly, with a wide gesture that encompasses the house and all the surrounding vicinity. “If you’re still certain about it.”
“Yeah, come on. It’s gonna be a hoot.”
.:.
That’s how she enters, observing him as he takes in the disaster that the kitchen is, and she is already about to say, It’s okay, you don’t have to do this, but he looks at her.
“What do you say, shall we clean up a little first?”
“I don’t know if we have time for that, actually,” she says. “Ginny – ”
“We still have at least one hour before she gets home, Rebecca.”
“And you think you can clean and somehow produce a cake in less than one hour?”
“Well, no,” he hesitates. “I think we can clean and produce a cake. Then, we can go pick up the kiddos.”
“I don’t know if…”
He has to be insane. There is no way this can work, because nothing works this easily, especially not in her life.
“Have a little faith,” he winks. Christ, he’s cute. “Besides, it will be fun. But I need something from you, first.” He breathes out. “I need you to believe we can do it, and I need you to be a little more relaxed. You’re not a horrible mom. The world is not ending. Your daughter is a lucky girl, and most importantly… baking is a science, but it’s also magic – and the bakes can feel it, if you’re nervous.”
That makes her smile – maybe the first real smile, since the cake disaster.
“What, like horses?”
“Well I dunno about horses, I’m used to riding bulls.” She must have raised her eyebrows, because he laughs. “Nah, I’m kidding, but yeah. Like horses.” He wipes her counter with a piece of kitchen paper, collecting the flour she’s left there. “Are you an equestrian?”
It starts right there, easily, simply enough, the conversation that carries them through all the cleaning process. Ted is quick, methodical, and she finds herself following his movements, wordlessly opening and closing drawers and cupboards as they tidy the kitchen and lay out the ingredients for a brand new cake. She tells him about her horse, from when she was a little girl, she tells him how she wants to introduce Ginny to this world as well, once they’ll be a little more… in tune with one another.
And that’s how she tells him about Ginny.
It’s surprising, how natural it feels to open up to him. She doesn’t know him – she’d never been to his shop, before today, but it’s like they know each other of old. It’s like he’s a stranger, but he’s also not. They have so much in common – the school, two children who are the same age, and they both know Roy. Little Phoebe plays football with Ted’s son, on the afternoons when she’s not busy with the dance classes she shares with Ginny.
In the meanwhile, Ted guides her through a brand new process. He doesn’t make the cake himself, but he – she realizes it afterwards – he’s guiding her, teaching her, so that her promise to Ginny will turn out to be true, and she’ll still be able to say that she herself made the cake.
“A little quicker, here,” he says, and she whisks the eggs with renewed energy while he asks, “you were saying, about her… past?”
“Yeah.” She’s going so quick now, she fears she might break the bowl. “As I’m sure you have noticed, Ginny is quite old to be a newly-adopted girl.”
“Yes, I can… understand that.”
“And she was – they sent her from foster home to foster home. No one’s adopted her before, because… apparently, she used to fall ill a lot when she was little.” She slows down, now. “And no one wanted to put up with that. They’d try, but then after the umpteenth time… they’d just send her back. She’s a marvelous girl – so intelligent, and full of life. I suppose they thought she was too much for them.”
He grimaces, at that. “No kid should ever hear those words.”
“She likes… so many things, and she’s – well, she’s my little miracle.” Her hands stop, she almost doesn’t notice it as Ted gently removes the bowl from her hold and starts pouring the melted butter inside. Her eyes fill with tears, again. It should be shameful, to cry for the second time today in front of this man, but for some reason, it isn’t. “I will never take it for granted.”
“No, I know you won’t. No parent would.”
His words are so soft, so gentle. She feels something slot in place in her heart. Just thinking about how he gets her, he has a son. He knows what it feels like.
“I – I don’t think I’ve seen you, at the school,” she says, trying to change the subject without actually changing it.
“We must have missed each other until now,” he shrugs, easily, simply. Then, he looks right into her eyes. “I doubt I’d have forgotten you.”
It feels – intense, in a way, and Rebecca hold his gaze for a moment longer, then has to look away. And incredibly, she feels she’s blushing. She’s acutely aware of her state, now, of how frightful she looks. She hasn’t even taken care of wearing an apron, or offering one to Ted, but his sweater is still immaculate as he carefully measures the flour.
“And I you,” she says, quietly, looking down towards the bowl. Then, she looks up. “I… you know, the first time Ginny has called me mum… I thought, this is it. This is the best day of my life, and it can’t get any better.”
“Hmm.” Ted smiles, without looking at her. “I’m sorry, I’m just imagining that, and dying of adorableness. Please continue.”
Rebecca finds it so very odd, that this man would sweep into her life like a fucking knight in shining armor, help her bake a cake – and for some reason, he’s also already linked to the people in her life in ways that feel led by destiny, in a way she isn’t able to comprehend.
“Well, she’s called me Rebecca, for a while, you know. Every time, it was… well, I was getting used to it, let’s say. I used to tell myself, at least now she’s safe, with someone who loves her so very much and wants what’s best for her. I may not be her mum, but I very well am going to behave like one, the best I can. And then, one night… I hadn’t adopted her yet… I couldn’t sleep, and she was having a nightmare, and it’s like I could sense that something was wrong with her. When I got into her room, she called me Rebecca, as usual. And then she’s asked me if I could get into bed with her, and of course I said yes.”
She pauses, emotional, still, thinking about that moment, and she wordlessly takes the chocolate Ted is offering and starts cutting it into small chunks.
“And then, we slept, and when I woke up, the following morning… she was all snuggled up next to me, not yet awake, not completely. I’m sure she didn’t know I was awake. But I heard it. She said, I love you, mum, and she… she was all uncertain, as if she didn’t dare to believe she could actually say that. I think I stopped breathing for a moment, there.”
She’s somehow surprised to see Ted’s eyes fill with tears, when she looks up.
“Oh, Rebecca,” he says, and she almost startles when he takes her hand. “Sorry, sorry,” he rushes to say, immediately releasing it, “I just…”
“No, it’s okay,” she quickly tells him. Come back here. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
Ted nods, and he does indeed come back, squeezing her fingers for a moment. Then, he dumps the chunks of chocolate inside the bowl. “It’s a wonderful story, y’know. So you’re her mum now? Officially?”
“Yeah,” she can’t help it, and a smile spreads on her face, and she’s sure she looks like an absolute idiot right now. “Officially. In all the ways that matter.”
.:.
It’s easy, working with Rebecca. Easier than he expected, actually, because she’s… well, she’s a force of nature. And it doesn’t matter that he ended up making a good sixty percent of the cake, because she was there, she was helping, and as long as she can confidently tell her girl that she made it – albeit with a little help – he’s at peace with himself.
Oh, how he has to focus, how hard it is to concentrate when she speaks to him – there isn’t anything that isn’t absolutely lovely, about her. Her immaculately perfect house and the little Happy Birthday banners in the living room, the mess that is the kitchen, the way her cheeks flush when he compliments her in any way, and how much she loves her daughter. It all makes his heart ache, and sing, and all things in between.
When Rebecca asks about Henry’s mom, Ted’s just sliding the cake inside the oven, and he freezes for a moment. He knew this was going to come up – because he hasn’t mentioned Michelle in all the time he’s been here. Now that he thinks about it, isn’t it a little unusual for a random guy to accept an invitation to a woman’s house (even if their children go to school together), to be as sweet with her as he can possibly be (because he can tell she’s had a Day, and he wants her to have a little sweetness in his life), and to hold her hand as if to say, I have got you?
It’s entirely understandable, that she’d inquire about Michelle. He sets the timer on the oven and wipes his hands on his pants.
“My wife… well, she passed,” he says. “It doesn’t – ”
“Oh, Ted, I’m sorry – ”
“… hurt as much now,” he smiles at her, and she does have a horrified expression, a hand pressed on her mouth. “Not as it used to. I don’t think Henry really remembers her, he was only one and a half at the time. And…”
“I’m so sorry.”
This time, she is the one who takes his hand. He lets her hold it, give it a little squeeze.
“We’re okay,” he says. A confirmation, almost, for him, as much as it is for her. “We’re okay, I promise.”
“But it does still hurt, a little,” she sighs. “I can’t imagine… god. Ted, I’m really sorry.”
“I am too,” he says. The way her eyes are shining – he doesn’t want her to cry, not over this, too, because she’s had a long, emotionally taxing day. “There isn’t a day I don’t think about her, but I think moving here from America helped a lot. It’s a clean slate, and Henry likes it better here, and my buddy Beard convinced me to go to a grief counseling group, and I promise you, it’s… I was a mess, when she passed, not gonna lie. But now, now I can see that there’s light to be found in any situation. There’s hope and kindness and it’s wonderful to see how the world comes along to help you raise up, after a pain like that one.”
“Ted…” She shakes her head, but she isn’t crying, she’s smiling. “I’m glad you had people in your corner.”
“Oh, corner, middle, center, upside down, everywhere. There’s always people willing to help, you just gotta let them.”
She sobers up, and looks at him with an intensity he’s already enamored with.
“Like you’re doing now.”
“Yeah.” He feels himself blush. “S’pose so.”
Rebecca nods, slowly. “I’m really glad I entered your bakery.”
“Oh, me too,” he says. “Even if you were in distress, and I’m sorry ‘bout that, but sometimes things really feel fated, ain’t that true?”
The way she smiles – shy and adorably nervous – has his heart somersault. She averts her eyes, and he sees her eyes widen, and, “God, look at the time,” she exhales. “I need to pick Ginny up from school – and I need to get changed – ”
“Go for it,” he encourages her. “I’ll clean up here.”
“You don’t have to…”
“I want to,” he says. “Consider it a favor, for a friend. A friend I’ve met minutes ago, but a friend nonetheless.”
He doesn’t miss the way her eyes shine, when she hears that. “You think so?”
“Know so, little miss. Go, get changed, then we’ll go get the kids at school.”
Rebecca nods, and she slowly exits the kitchen, casting him one last glance as she goes. He chuckles a little, and turns towards the sink, where they have unceremoniously dumped all the stuff they’ve used until now.
“Shall we make a stop to buy birthday candles?” he half-yells.
“Got it covered!” comes her voice from the stairs.
He shakes his head, fondly, and sets to cleaning. Of course she’s got it covered, he thinks. The marvel she is.
.:.
When she gets downstairs, the kitchen is spotless, and Ted’s sliding the cake out of the oven.
“We just gotta let it cool it down,” he says, his back to her, placing it carefully on the counter. “But, no matter the fact you’ve had some help from me, I’d say it still counts, right?”
“Well, my daughter will be the judge of that,” she answers. He lifts his eyes from the cake, and she’s surprised to see him widen his eyes. “What is it?”
Admittedly, she’s gone a little out with the outfit – but it’s mainly because he’s seen her in such a horrible state earlier, she felt like she had to do something about it. To offer him a new mental image, one that isn’t caked with flour and melted chocolate. One where she has fixed her hair, touched up her make-up, and chosen a coral pink dress she absolutely loves, simple and elegant as it is.
“You look…”
He trails off, and gulps down, and she knows she’s managed to make an impression, even though she’ll have to entertain a long conversation with herself, as to why she wanted to make an impression in the first place.
“I look…?”
“Different,” he manages. “Good different! Just – well, oh boy. I already thought you looked as pretty as it could be when you entered my shop, and now I need to add a whole lot of new adjectives. Good adjectives! Nice ones. I’m sorry, I’m rambling, and we are gonna be late, and…”
“Ted – it’s okay.” She smiles. “Thank you.”
He nods, looking awestruck, still.
“Let’s – ” he breathes, maybe trying to find enough presence of mind to finish the sentence. “Shall we go?”
Ginny’s school is not far, at all, and most days, her daughter comes home on her own. She loves it, the independence, and there’s a couple of her friends who go down the same road, and she only has to walk for a few meters alone, which Rebecca is thankful for.
But today… it’s a special day, and Rebecca wants to be there when she exits the school, she wants to see her daughter’s face light up as it always does when she goes to pick her up.
And it’s exactly what happens, just like she envisioned, because the moment Ginny spots her, she lets out a Mummy! that has half the people in attendance turn around to watch. Rebecca crouches on the curb, her arms spread out, and she feels Ted’s hand on her back – just a delicate touch – helping her keep her balance when Ginny reaches her and crashes into her with the force of a thousand suns. She feels her tiny arms squeeze around her neck, Ginny’s hair obscuring her vision.
“Hi, mummy,” Ginny whispers. “You came.”
“Of course I came,” Rebecca says, squeezing her back. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Happy birthday, sweet girl.”
“Thank you, thank you,” she answers, and it doesn’t feel like she’s thanking her for the birthday wishes, but rather, because Rebecca got there to pick her up from school as she promised she’d do. Ginny leans back, and there’s pure excitement on her face. “We got to eat the cupcakes and they sang Happy Birthday to me! The whole class!”
“Oh – they did? Oh, my little angel, that’s wonderful.” Rebecca cradles her cheek. “Were Nana’s cupcakes good then?”
“Yeah. I told Omar and Stella that they didn’t have nuts inside, like you said.”
“That’s good, darling.” She nods very seriously. “Now, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
For the first time, Ginny notices Ted – he’s moved, he’s got an arm around Henry’s shoulder, and they’re quietly talking next to them.
“Henry’s dad?” she asks, her brow furrowing in such an adorable way. “But I already know Henry’s dad, mum.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, you see,” Ted says, and she’s surprised to see him blush. “I met Miss Ginny once already. I went to the school last month. Remember the bakery laboratory?”
“Oh – god, that was you? I should have known. Those small tarts she’s brought home… the moment I tasted your biscuits, I should have known they were familiar.”
“We also made cookies!” Henry pipes up. “Or – biscuits. Miss Bowen and Uncle Beard were fighting about it. The name.”
“They weren’t fighting, buddy, they were flirting.”
“What’s flirting?” Ginny asks.
“Alright then! Why don’t we go home,” Rebecca cuts in, and she tries to get up from where she was crouching. Ted, ever so helpful, hooks his hand under her forearm, and helps her up. “Thank you,” she murmurs, glancing at him, straightening invisible wrinkles on her dress. “We should look for Phoebe and – ”
“Doctor Welton!”
A voice from their left, and Rebecca places her hand on Ginny’s shoulder as a young woman approaches them. She’s visibly pregnant, and beaming, her hand on her swollen belly.
“Hello, Angela,” Rebecca says. “How are you today?”
“Oh, everything alright. Didn’t expect to find you here – I came to pick up my nephew,” Angela says, pointing towards a boy who must be nine or ten, a few meters from them. “I – oh, is this your family?”
To her supreme horror, Rebecca feels herself blush. Irremediably, suddenly, as it always happens. “Yes, well, no – more or less,” she starts. “This is my daughter,” she says, squeezing Ginny against her.
“Oh, you’re the famous Ginny!”
“I’m famous?” Ginny says, confused, looking up to Angela, then to Rebecca.
“Oh yes, absolutely. Your mum always talks about you. She’s so proud of you, and I feel like I know you already! I can only hope my little one will be half as smart and beautiful as you.”
Rebecca looks down, down to where Ginny is… blushing, and trying to burrow her head against her leg, in a sudden bout of shyness.
“It’s alright, darling,” she murmurs, caressing her hair in what she hopes is a soothing movement. “She is kind, isn’t she? Do you want to thank her for how nice she’s been?”
“Thank you,” Ginny whispers, then turns her face completely against Rebecca’s leg. Rebecca just holds her, because at this point she knows her well enough to understand she needs a moment.
“And, well, this is Ted Lasso,” she says. “A… friend of mine. And his son Henry, he’s in Ginny’s class.”
“Hi,” Henry waves, as Ted extends his hand.
“Howdy. Congratulations on your little one,” he says. “So that’s how you know Rebecca? She’s your doctor?”
“Well, yes – she probably is the best around, isn’t she? I was so happy when I learned she would relocate closer to where I live. I really lucked out with her,” Angela says, smiling so blissfully it makes Rebecca’s heartbeat increase slightly – she doesn’t know if it’s embarrassment, or pride, or happiness, or something else entirely. “It was a pleasure to see you all – and see you next time, Doctor Welton – if this one doesn’t decide to come earlier.”
There’s a couple of pleasantries they exchange after that, but Rebecca isn’t focusing on Angela, not anymore. No, she’s focusing on her daughter’s little weight and how Ginny is timidly trying to look at the pretty woman who’s just told her that she’s beautiful and smart; she’s focusing on Ted who’s wishing best of luck to Angela for her delivery – and on Henry, who’s looking at her instead, with something like admiration painted on his face.
She tries not to dwell on it. To ignore all the feelings this particular moment in time is causing – because they need to find Phoebe and Elizabeth, now. Ginny suddenly loses all her shyness, when she realizes that the moment for her eagerly awaited birthday party has finally come.
The girls in tow, Rebecca turns towards Ted.
“Listen, I…”
“Mummy, can Henry come too?” Ginny says, tugging lightly at Rebecca’s sleeve. “Please?”
Rebecca looks up, glances at Ted for the briefest of moments, and he’s smiling. She’s never seen him smile like that – she’s known him for a few hours, but this is a new smile, one she’s never seen.
(It makes her excited, to think she might get to discover how many other smiles of his she hasn’t yet seen.)
“I – I think you should ask him, right?” she tells Ginny.
The little girl nods sagely, and turns towards her friend. “Henry, do you want to come to my birthday party?”
Henry, to Rebecca’s surprise, is hesitant. “I dunno if I’m allowed,” he says, looking up at her, at his dad, as if he were asking for permission.
Ginny’s face falls, and Rebecca looks at Ted, at Phoebe, at Elizabeth. They all look as confused as she feels.
“No, Henry, you have to come!” Phoebe exclaims.
“Why not, buddy?” Ted asks, squeezing his shoulder. “Ginny was so kind to invite you, I’d say you are more than allowed.”
“But dad,” Henry presses on. “I haven’t got a gift,” he confesses, and his forlorn voice might be the thing that finally cracks Rebecca’s heart.
She attempts to say, “Oh, Henry, that’s not a – ”
“But I don’t need gifts!” Ginny interrupts. “I just want to stay with my friends.”
Oh, god.
She knows Ginny has never had many friends growing up – how could she, really, when she was in and out of hospitals so often, and changing houses and foster families equally as often. She’s told her, not so long ago, that the families she was with would buy her presents for her birthday, but This is the first time I get to have a birthday with my friends, mummy, and I think it will be way better than gifts. Right?
She’s going to cry again. For fuck’s sake, she cannot cry, not now, not in front of four children and – Ted, who’s looking at her as if he knows exactly what she’s trying not to do.
She vaguely registers Henry as he timidly says Okay, then, and Ted grins at her.
“I think we should get the party started, now that this has been cleared up, don’t you, gentleman and gentleladies?” Ted says. “What do you think, Doctor Welton?”
.:.
He’s known Rebecca for less than twelve hours at this point, but Ted feels like he’s known her for all his life. It’s hard not to, especially when they all get home (in her home for the second time in a single day), and the first thing Ginny does is to run inside the kitchen to see the infamous cake. Rebecca shares a look with him, then – complicity and something else thrown into the mix – a look he absolutely will have to try and decipher later.
A moment later, Ted is trying to convince Henry and Elizabeth and Phoebe to come inside and stop playing with the small swing, in Rebecca’s backyard – but he manages to hear enough to see that he should give the Welton girls his full attention, for a minute.
The sharp gasp that comes from the kitchen makes him feel emotional, all squiggly inside, and Ginny isn’t even his daughter, so he can only imagine how Rebecca feels. And sure enough, her eyes are glistening. Ted’s next action is not spurred by a conscious thought, it’s more of an instinct: he takes her hand.
She looks surprised, but they have no time to delve into it further – no time to comment, no time to do anything more than looking at each other and smile before a small body comes crashing against Rebecca’s legs.
“Thank you, mummy,” Ginny says, the sound of her voice a little muffled. “Thank you for making me a cake.”
Rebecca bites her lower lip – Ted sees her as she tries not to laugh. “Oh, darling, you’re most welcome,” she says, her hand carding through Ginny’s hair. “I told you Ted helped me a great deal, right?”
Ginny nods, her little head bobbing up and down. Then, quicker than light, she leaves her mother’s legs to hug his legs instead.
“Thank you, Mr Ted,” she says, so sweetly it makes him want to weep. “For helping my mum.” She lifts her head. “She doesn’t like to be in the kitchen very much. Or to make food.”
He barely manages to say, Does she now, to look at Rebecca with a knowing smirk, and Rebecca gasps, with a completely believable betrayed look on her face. He knows it’s all pretend, and she’s not actually feeling angry, but…
“Imogen!” she lets out, incredulous. The make-believe is actually pretty good, and he’s about to laugh, but… Ginny’s head turns up towards her, guilt painted on her face.
“I’m sorry,” she says, horrified. She detaches herself from Ted’s legs and takes two steps back. “I didn’t mean to say that – I didn’t know it was a secret – ”
“Hey. Hey, my little love.”
Rebecca crouches down, immediately, and Ted feels the strongest urge to avert his eyes, give them some privacy, a moment. So he does, he tries, but he cannot turn off his hearing, and he listens to Rebecca whispering to her daughter while they hug.
“It’s okay, I promise I’m not cross at you,” she murmurs. He can hear Ginny’s little whimpers, and Rebecca’s hand rubbing her back. “It’s all right, darling. It was just a joke, it’s all right. You’re not in trouble.”
“I’m – ” her voice breaks, in a small sob.
“Yes, love, you can tell me. Why are you always so worried when you see me like that? It’s not the first time it happens.”
And then, Ted feels his heart break right in half – there has to be a precise point where the fracture spreads, right in the middle of it – when he hears Ginny’s whisper.
“Because I’m afraid you’ll send me back, mama.”
He grips the counter of the kitchen. His eyes fixated on the porch, he tries with all his might to focus on the sounds of three carefree children, who are running around, pushing each other on the swing. It’s incredible and almost impossible to believe that he’d feel that way so fast, but he just wants to sink down to the ground and take both Ginny and Rebecca in his arms.
He breathes.
Rebecca breathes, too.
“I would never – never, are you listening to me? – I’d never send you back, my love,” she says. He looks at them now. She is cupping Ginny’s face, the little girl looking at her seriously, tear tracks on her cheeks. “I’ll be cross at you in the future, we both know that could happen, for many reasons. And you will be cross at me. But I will never send you back, alright? Because we’re a team, you and I, aren’t we?”
“Yeah,” Ginny says, a little uncertain still.
“And even in a team, the players can fight sometimes. But a team stays together, okay? Always.”
“Okay.” She hesitates. “Do you promise?”
Rebecca takes a deep breath, a sigh. “I promise. I promise, darling, you never have to worry about that, believe me.”
“Pinky promise?”
He almost chuckles when he sees them like this, twin tearful smiles on their faces, as they both hold out their pinkies and intertwine them.
“Pinky promise, baby.”
Ginny nods. Slowly, she goes to hug Rebecca again, and this time, Rebecca scoops her up, and raises, holding her in her arms.
“I’m going to… we’re going to freshen up, it’ll be just a minute,” she murmurs to him. “Can you gather the children and get the candles? Top drawer, next to the oven. We’ll be right back.”
.:.
Ginny is quiet, when they reach Rebecca’s room, when they enter the ensuite bathroom and Rebecca starts drying her tears with a cloth.
“I’m sorry I made you sad, little love,” Rebecca murmurs. “I didn’t think… I’m sorry. I have so much to learn, you know?”
Ginny wrinkles her nose. “To learn?”
“Yes. You are learning how to be a little human,” Rebecca says, tapping the tip of Ginny’s nose with the cloth. “And you’re pretty good at it, I’d say. And I – I am learning, how to be a mummy.”
“Oh.” Her daughter stays silent for a bit, enough time for Rebecca to finish drying her cheeks. “That’s okay,” she says then. “We can learn together.”
“Oh, I really hope so, my darling.”
“I think you already are a good mum, though.”
She can’t help it, the little jolt that goes straight through her heart when she hears Ginny’s words.
“You do?”
She nods, sagely. “You went to Mr Ted to get help to make my cake.”
“Yeah, I did.” Rebecca sits on the closed lid of the toilet, and takes Ginny’s hands in hers, looking at her in the eyes. “And do you know why?”
Ginny shakes her head.
“Because my first cake was a complete disaster,” she confesses. “And I didn’t – as you said earlier, I’m not that good in the kitchen. But I tried to do something for you, and then when I couldn’t, I went to get help. And at first I didn’t want you to find out, because I didn’t want you to think that there are things I am not able to do for you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I think so.”
“But then, Ted helped me, and I wanted to tell you about it. Because it’s normal, trying, and failing, and then we try again. Like when you practice for your spelling competitions.”
Ginny nods again, looks at her, and tilts her head. “But, mummy.”
“Yes, darling.”
“You have to tell me if you can’t make a cake,” Ginny says, with some kind of urgency, squeezing her hands. “We can make it together next time. And we can ask Mr Ted to come over, so he can help if we need help. Okay?”
Rebecca doesn’t answer, this time. She just hugs her, tight, and Ginny oofs at the unexpected force of her mother’s hug. Rebecca takes a deep breath, the scent of Ginny’s peach shampoo enveloping her like a cloud.
“You’re a very special girl, you know that?” she murmurs against her hair. She presses a kiss there, on the side of her head, and Ginny is smiling at her now – this is her little one, and how she loves to see her happy. “Now, how about we go downstairs to see if Ted has found your birthday candles?”
.:.
They’re in the kitchen, she and Ted, with a glass of wine and a glass of whisky respectively.
There is no sound, coming from the living room – the children all passed out, after a sugar-induced food coma. She can see them, from where she’s perched on a stool: Henry sprawled out on a corner of the sofa, Phoebe curled up on the other end, Ginny’s on the armchair – all snuggled up under a blanket, and Elizabeth is lying on Ginny’s bean bag in the corner. The room is an absolute mess, toys scattered everywhere, plates with food, and balloons nestled up in unlikely positions (between the bookshelf, between the leaves of a tall plant, and between the TV and the nearest wall).
Ted is currently making dinner – when she’s told him that the first thing she’s eaten today was his cake (their cake, now, she supposes), his hand has flown up to his heart, as if he were outraged at her disregard for her own wellbeing.
There indeed is something inherently sexy in watching a man cook for you, and she basks in the sight. She swirls her wine around the glass, pretending not to notice that she’s starting to get an headache from it.
“Seriously, Ted, you have already done plenty,” she attempts to protest, but he shakes his head.
“It’s no bother,” he says. “You had a long day, and without eating – I still think a packet of saltines does not a lunch make, by the way.”
She slides down from the stool, and goes near him, peeking at the pot on the stove. “What are you making?”
“Chicken noodle stir fry.”
She hums. “Hard to believe I had all these ingredients in my house.”
“And yet,” he smiles. She feels a sudden, irrational desire – to hug him from behind, place her chin on his shoulder. It’s insane, she’s met the man today, for god’s sake. To try and distract herself from these thoughts, she looks at the children for a moment.
“Do you, uh – do you think we should wake them up, give them dinner?”
Ted stops his movements, rapidly glances towards the living room. “Nah. Let them sleep. They had enough sugar to feed an army.”
“That cake really was a hit, you know.”
Indeed it was. Ginny’s mouth still has a shadow of chocolate around her lips, and probably on her nose.
“That’s because of the Welton secret ingredient.”
“Incompetence?” she shrugs.
But what Ted says next surprises her.
“Courage.”
She stills, at that. Looks at him. He’s completely sincere, it’s evident he’s not just saying that to try and flirt, or to charm her, or to be an arse licker of sorts. No.
“How so?” she asks, failing to hide the slight tremor in her voice. Ted turns off the heat on the stove, and turns to face her.
(She suddenly notices how close they are.)
“Admitting that you cannot do something takes a lot of bravery, R’becca,” he murmurs. “And – I haven’t known you for long – ” he smiles at that, “but, from what I’ve gathered today… you’re an exceptionally talented person, an amazing doctor, a wonderful mom, and I would I be right if I assumed you’re not used to it? Feeling like you cannot do something?”
“Maybe – yes,” she sighs. “Yes, you’d be right.”
“See, there ya go,” Ted says. “Courage.”
He is so close. She can see a vague trace of faded freckles. The way his eyes are shining. But this is insanity, she cannot be thinking of kissing him, not so soon, it’s…
Courage.
It’s a small peck, just to… test the waters, at the corner of his lips, and she prays she hasn’t misread this. Ted has his eyes closed when it happens, but he opens them, looks at her with something unreadable there, and her heart is thumping – and her head is swirling around, like the wine she can still taste – when he kisses her.
Maybe it’s too soon, maybe it’s complete madness, maybe she has lost her mind after all. But it feels right. There’s a split second where she wonders what’s happening, his hand on her hip, his fingers dancing at the nape of her neck.
“Ted,” she breathes out.
It seems like it’s taking him a whole lot of self-imposed discipline to lean back.
“Hi, darlin’,” his thumb traces her cheek, oh so gently. “Is this… okay, or…?”
“Don’t you dare stop,” she threatens. He lets out a relieved chuckle, and she can’t believe he’d be uncertain about where she stands on this matter – hasn’t he noticed how she was itching to… know him better, ever since they’ve made the cake together?
The next time they break off their kisses, he dips his gaze down towards the floor. “We should really feed ya,” he says, apologetic.
“Five more minutes,” Rebecca envelopes his neck with her arms, pressing a small kiss to his jaw. “Please.”
“Isn’t that your stomach, grumbling?”
“That is so not the priority right now, Ted.”
“I know, I know,” he whispers. “But – Rebecca, I… we gotta talk, just a minute.”
The warm, fuzzy feeling she had inside her gets replaced by an icy sensation. She nods, mutely, and watches as he lets her go, as he plates the chicken into two bowls; she follows him to the table. Oh, how she wishes she was someone more… put together, because he’s probably about to tell her – You know what, as far as friends with benefits go, maybe you’d be alright –
And yet –
“Go on a date with me,” he says, all of a sudden. The words are so fast, it sounds more like Goon-a-date-weeemme. “Please.”
Rebecca looks at him – she wishes it weren’t in complete disbelief, but it most likely is.
“Me?”
“Yeah.” He seems… shy. “Why, who else?”
“You… I thought you just wanted a one night stand.” She pauses. “I would have been – I would have understood.”
Confessing it, it makes her blush. Particularly because she hasn’t been in a stable relationship in years, and one night stands are all she’s accustomed to, at this point.
“Oh, no – oh. You deserve so much more than a one night stand, Rebecca.” To her surprise, he takes her hand. The feeling, his touch, it’s… so comforting. “I know this has been fast. And I know our kids are friends. But, darlin’, I wanna take it slow with you. See where it leads us, if you want to.”
When she searches his eyes, there is only sincerity, a bit of apprehension, a sprinkle of hope.
“I think I want to.” She feels herself smile, and he mirrors the same smile, squeezes her hand. “God, I do want to. There is nothing I’d like more.”
He chuckles, eyes twinkling. “Yeah?”
“Yes – although, Ted, there is a caveat.” Before she can see his face fall, before he can get worried, or worse, she smiles some more, and asks. “Do you think you could make me another batch of those biscuits?”
Apprehension morphs into amusement, and there he is, again, his eyes bright. “Oh you got me there. Yeah. Yeah, I can absolutely do that.”
.:.
For the umpteenth time that day, he thinks about how easy it is, being with her.
They eat – and boy, does she like it, and the various groans of relief she lets out when she finally gets some food inside her are not anything he’ll forget any time soon. Then, they check on the kids, and Rebecca covers Henry up with a blanket, and he has to halt for a second when he sees that image – so familiar yet heartbreaking, because on one hand, he misses Michelle, but on the other hand, he thinks, how can Rebecca think, even for a second, that she’s not a good mom?
She takes his hand when he proposes a home tour – But will they be alright? she asks, worriedly looking at the kids, who are as peaceful as the four little angels he knows they absolutely aren’t. And he tells her yes. They’ll be alright, there is nowhere they need to be; because he and Rebecca have already called Roy, and Elizabeth’s mom, to let them know the girls would have a sleepover.
She takes his hand, Rebecca, and she doesn’t leave it – not when they enter her study, which is bathed in darkness now, but he can already tell that it would be bathed in sunlight, during the day. Not when she shows him Ginny’s room – and he chuckles when he sees the little Operation game, lying on the carpet. It’s her favorite, Rebecca says, a little sheepishly.
Well makes sense to me. Maybe because her mama is a great doctor?, Ted asks, and he’s delighted to see her blush again. That girl knows talent when she sees it.
She doesn’t leave his hand for a second, not even when she shows him the guest room. You could… sleep here if you want, she proposes. Henry is sleeping anyway, so…
If you don’t mind, and if that’s what you want, then absolutely.
She hesitates, and there it is again.
Courage.
“My room’s just at the other side of this corridor,” she says, quickly. “We don’t… have to do anything in particular.” He waits her out, and she murmurs, “but I would very much like to…”
“…to?”
“To be held, tonight.”
He feels an immense amount of fondness descend upon him. To be granted the privilege to see her vulnerability is – he thinks he should give her something in return.
“I would like that,” he whispers. “I… it’s been a long time since I’ve held someone, you know.” He blushes, but he makes no move to hide himself from her. “I hope it’s not a problem.”
She is so beautiful, here in this moment, the corridor submerged in darkness – the only light comes from the moon outside. Somehow, it feels like they are the only two people in the universe, for a second. Rebecca brings a finger up to his lips, gently.
“Not a problem,” she says, and that finger brushes upon his lips. “Ted, I…”
“Yeah.”
She ducks her head down – he thinks that maybe it’s too intense, what they’re doing. But it feels so right, it feels like he’s been waiting for ages, and now he’s stepped into a brand new world. It’s not that he wasn’t happy before, with his shop, and Henry, and his friends. But there definitely was something missing.
Now, it feels like happiness is… so close, he can taste it.
And after a moment – he finds out – it tastes like Rebecca’s kisses on his lips, it feels like her perfume enveloping him, and it flows like her dress under his fingertips.
This one, he thinks, may just be his favorite beginning.
..::..
Thirty years later
… Now, a very special host this morning. She is one of the most important people in the medicine field right now, coming straight back from the US where she’s just accepted an award, and we are all so very proud of her. Good morning, Doctor Welton, welcome.
Good morning to you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, albeit virtually.
Let me start by saying thank you for accepting the interview, I know you’re as busy as it comes. And, let me just say, congratulations on the Health Industry Visionary Award you received from the New Society for Women’s Health Research.
Oh, thank you so much. I am so proud of all the good work that’s been put into our research. I have my team to thank, and most of all my family. I couldn’t have done it without their support.
It’s an impressive feat, for sure – please, talk to us about the work you have done.
Well, the inspiration has always been there, for sure, especially considering my personal history, and the history of the women in my family. My whole research team has tirelessly worked so that we could successfully conduct a research about the treatment of period pains for everyone who’s subjected to them, and I’m so happy to see the results we have obtained, how we have collected data from underrepresented groups, and how this translated into a better outcome for all involved, if we consider the latest developments of the studies about infertility. Then, the vision that has been awarded actually is the combination of our work with the newest works from my colleagues at the Department of Bio-Intelligence and the Dome of Social Healthcare and Wellness. We would never have imagined how many people and families we’d be able to help. I don’t think I exaggerate when I say this is historical for any woman or person who’s ever struggled with her or their uterus.
I swear I wish I was way smarter so I’d be able to read your beautiful research.
Well, I’d say the research is all boring jargon; the actual outcome is way more important.
That is for certain. And how did your daughter and husband react to everything that’s happened?
Oh, my daughter is so proud of her mother, or at least, that’s what she tells me. I reckon everything I do, in a way, ultimately is for her. I always struggle when I’m away from my family, but I have to believe I’m building a better world for her to live in.
Oh that’s for sure.
And my husband… well, he’s the best. He truly is my partner in every way. But sometimes we are glad that his job is so different from mine, so that we can actually talk about things that aren’t related to our work. It’s a reprieve of sorts, you know?
That is probably smart, and the secret to an everlasting union. But – of course, now I have to ask about your mother. Do you ever feel pressure, knowing who she is and what she’s accomplished in her life?
My mother is the greatest person – she definitely is my hero. She saved me. She’s always called me her little miracle, but I like to think she’s mine. You’re asking whether I feel any pressure? She was the first one who taught me that it’s okay if you fail, as long as you have the strength to try again, if need be. The strongest inspiration was from her, and it’s thanks to her that I decided to become a doctor. She gave me the means and the love to be able to accomplish that, I’ll always be grateful to her.
You see, she’s told me that, as a doctor of Reproductive Health, she’s spent years around families and children, and it was one of her greatest wishes to have a family of her own. I think it actually has been quite painful, for her, to see that her job was so focused on that, on the very thing she didn’t feel she could have. Until I came along.
Because you’ve been adopted, right?
Yes, that’s right. My story has been rocky from the start – one could say it started in a hospital, and then I’ve never left that place, in a way. My health wasn’t the best, as a child. Then, when my mother adopted me, I would hang out outside of her office, doing homework while she worked, when she couldn’t get a sitter. I was friends with all the nurses and long stay patients.
She adopted me when I was six, almost seven – she met my father not long after, because I was in class with his son, my brother Henry. And that added a place to my hang out spots – my dad’s bakery. It may sound strange, but I’ve never felt like something was missing from our family. Of course my dad’s late wife, Michelle, is always in our thoughts: she passed when my brother was still a baby.
Oh, now I’m curious about your father – he also seems to be a special man.
Absolutely. My father, he’s… if my mother has taught me the value of hard work and generosity, he definitely has taught me how to believe in myself. Both my mother and father have always been so encouraging, and so evidently in love. My brother and I, we have had the chance to grow up in such a beautiful and loving family. And then my team and I, but also my family… we all have tried to replicate that miracle for as many children as possible, through our collaboration with my mum’s charity.
That is a wonderful thing, for sure.
It’s all about trying to give back the blessings you’ve been given, I think.
Well, it only shows that along with being smart, you have a beautiful heart. And, any plans for the future?
Oh, I still am jetlagged after the trip to America – we went to Washington DC because of the award, then we made a stop in Kansas so that my daughter Becky could visit the lands where my dad grew up. She loves it there, of course, but I still think she’s a Londoner through and through, like me and my mother… plus, much to my dad’s dismay – she doesn’t really appreciate barbecue sauce, at least for now, you see. Broke his heart. Thankfully, my niece Thea loves it – you win some, you lose some. Anyway, my plans for the immediate future? A long bath, then we’ll have a celebratory dinner at my parents’ house, and I’ll stuff my face with chocolate cake.
And then it’s back to work.
Always.
It’s been a pleasure talking to you, Doctor Welton – our best wishes for your next endeavors, and congratulations again. We can’t wait to have you back here with us – till next time.
My pleasure. Thank you so much for the invite.
… And that was Doctor Imogen Welton, for our weekly program, Women Who are Changing the World. Next up…