Second First Impressions

The narrative architecture of these chapters relies on spatial symbolism to accelerate intimacy and articulate the conflict between safety and risk. The cottages, once a single unit divided by a wall, function as a metaphor for Ruthie and Teddy’s separate but linked lives. This shared wall is the primary device used to collapse the distance between them. It is both a physical barrier that maintains the illusion of Ruthie’s privacy and a porous membrane through which vulnerability and connection are transmitted. Teddy’s immediate observation that the walls are “thin” (75) establishes the premise of their forced intimacy. The late-night exchange in which he admits his loneliness while she bathes is intimate without being physical, signaling how their bond grows first through honesty rather than touch. The contrast between her carefully decorated, comforting cottage and his sparse, empty space visually represents their opposing approaches to life: Ruthie curates a safe, enclosed environment, while Teddy exists in a state of chaotic emptiness. His entry into her bedroom without permission initially unsettles her but also foreshadows how boundaries between them will continue to blur. Their conversations through the wall strip away superficialities, allowing for a raw connection built on shared loneliness and compelling Ruthie to confront the permeability of her self-imposed boundaries.

Ruthie’s character is defined by a deep-seated need for control, a psychological response to past trauma that manifests in the recurring motif of checklists and routines. Her rigid adherence to procedure—from nightly security rounds to pre-bath rituals—is a defense mechanism against the carelessness for which she was once blamed. This history is foreshadowed in a phone call with her father, whose only comment on her promotion is a pointed admonition: “I hope you’re remembering to lock the office” (91). This line retroactively imbues Ruthie’s actions with new meaning; her obsession with locked doors is a direct attempt to rewrite a past failure. Consequently, the discovery of the unlocked recreation center door triggers panic, representing a terrifying lapse in the very system designed to protect her. The unlocked door also echoes the moment when she literally leaves a door open for Teddy’s presence in her life, an early signal that the system she built can’t fully hold. His unstructured life directly challenges her controlled existence, while Melanie’s “Sasaki Method” offers a paradoxical solution: a structured, list-based approach to embracing the very spontaneity and risk Ruthie fears.

These chapters deepen the theme of The Unreliability of First Impressions by contrasting how Teddy is perceived by his family with how he reveals himself to Ruthie. While Jerry and Rose Prescott present a portrait of Teddy as a charming but fundamentally selfish man, the narrative provides constant counterevidence. His father’s warning that Ruthie should not “let him dazzle [her]” (108) is intended to protect her but instead highlights the family’s inability to see beyond Teddy’s surface persona. The audience witnesses his genuine loneliness, his guilt over injuring the tortoise, and his sincere efforts to connect with Ruthie, all of which contradict his family’s biased assessment. Similarly, Ruthie’s initial impression of Teddy as a taker, reinforced by the tattoo on his hand, is complicated by his acts of giving: his admiration for her wallpaper, his gift of the tortoise sketch, and his protective anger on her behalf. This layering of external suspicion against private evidence of sincerity emphasizes how perspective shapes judgment, inviting the reader to see Teddy more clearly than either Ruthie or his family can at this stage. Even his playful chauffeur role, performed at the Parlonis’ behest, becomes a gesture of service that undercuts his reputation as irresponsible. The moment when he quietly repays her $20 functions as a symbolic turning point, transforming what began as an embarrassing encounter into the foundation of mutual trust.

The golden bonnet tortoises grow as a dominant symbol for Ruthie’s psychological state and her journey toward personal growth. These endangered creatures, with their protective shells and slow movements, directly mirror Ruthie’s own tendency to retreat from the world. When Teddy accidentally injures a tortoise, the act symbolizes his disruptive entry into her sheltered life, cracking the shell of her isolation. Their subsequent collaboration on the tortoise’s rehabilitation becomes a metaphor for the development of their own relationship. Teddy takes responsibility for the harm he has caused, and Ruthie shares her hidden passion and expertise, revealing a dream of becoming a veterinarian that she had long since abandoned. The fact that they name the tortoise TJ—Teddy Junior—highlights the link between the animal and their growing bond, transforming it into a surrogate for the fragile beginnings of their partnership. The act of numbering TJ’s shell “50” also demonstrates Ruthie’s impulse to categorize and control, even as the experience pulls her toward vulnerability. This joint project of healing and care foreshadows their romantic trajectory and Ruthie’s eventual decision to embrace risk, transforming the symbol of her own containment into an instrument of her liberation.

The subtext and loaded dialogue in this section build romantic tension. The lunch, which Renata Parloni frames as a “practice date,” elevates the subtext to text, forcing Ruthie and Teddy to confront the dynamic between them in a public setting. While their conversation covers topics like past assistants and family issues, their words are laced with developing feelings. Teddy’s jealousy of the prospective men from the Sasaki Method is barely concealed, culminating in his quiet but forceful assertion that Ruthie should not change because, “Why mess with perfection?” (102). This line functions on multiple levels: It is a compliment, a rebuttal to Melanie, and a deeply felt plea for her to remain the person with whom he is connecting. The brief hand squeeze across the table is small in action but large in significance, highlighting their shift from reluctant allies to tentative partners in intimacy. It also reveals Teddy’s fear of being displaced, mirroring Ruthie’s fear of abandonment and loss. This moment, coupled with his physical act of carrying her from the office, demonstrates his desire to both protect her from the outside world and simultaneously be the one to escort her into it.

Another key element of these chapters is the novel’s engagement with gendered expectations around caretaking and emotional labor. Ruthie’s role at Providence, where she manages routines and ensures safety for others, mirrors the invisible work often shouldered by women in both professional and personal contexts. Teddy’s arrival complicates this dynamic. His lack of supplies, his injured tortoise, and his chaotic habits initially make him another dependent for Ruthie to manage, yet the narrative subverts this pattern by allowing Teddy to gradually reciprocate care. He defends her against the Parlonis, listens empathetically to her family struggles, and eventually insists she deserves admiration rather than correction. In doing so, the text interrogates cultural scripts that frame women as caretakers and men as disruptive forces, instead suggesting that healthy intimacy arises from mutual protection and shared responsibility.

These chapters also illustrate the novel’s awareness of romance tropes. By having Renata and Aggie stage the practice date, Thorne draws attention to the artificiality of romantic setups while still indulging in the pleasures of the trope. The scene functions almost like a rehearsal within the narrative, highlighting how relationships are often shaped by performance and external staging before they become authentic. Similarly, the thin wall conversations echo the forced proximity trope, but with an inventive twist: Intimacy here develops aurally and emotionally before it becomes physical. This self-conscious play with genre expectations underscores Thorne’s desire to balance the comfort of familiar romance structures with moments of subversion that destabilize them, keeping both Ruthie and the reader slightly off balance as genuine connection forms.