Page 33 of Tangled with the Tight End

She leans near me and whispers. “Sorry about that.” She bends just a little closer—close enough that I smell wildflowers and clean linen, like a sheet in the breeze on a spring day. Her words come in a whisper. “They caught me off guard. I had a long morning already. I tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous.”

“No problem,” I say.

I wonder what her long morning entailed.

“Nothing sticking my head in the fridge couldn’t cure,” she adds.

I smile.

“Do you just say everything that comes into your head?” I ask.

She pauses, leaning back and looking up briefly. “Yes. I think so.”

I chuckle.

“You’re doing better,” she says, standing back.

She looks at my parents. “He winced every time he laughed yesterday.”

Dad nods his head once, succinctly—it’s clearly a brush-off.

Winona doesn’t notice. She smiles widely at Dad and then my mom, who smiles a kind smile back.

“What do you know about Declan’s treatment?” Mom asks.

“He’s in the splint for two weeks. Then he’ll get a hard cast. They’ll start therapy. He’s got the cold compression and meds for now—until he gets the cast. He needs to elevate his leg and stay still for now.”

She stares at Mom.

Mom stares back.

Then Mom says, “Okay. Well, I’m glad you’re informed.”

“Not as glad as I am,” Winona answers her. “Imagine me trying to care for him without any information.”

I chuckle under my breath.

The doorbell chimes in its succession of bell-like tones that reverberate through the hallway.

Winona jumps just the slightest. I smile. It is a pretty ridiculous doorbell.

“It’s a regular Grand Central Station in here,” Dad says.

I pull up the app. Marcus Delaney, our starting quarterback, Jaxon Pierce, our safety and one of my closest friends, and Lincoln Walker, one of our running backs, are taking up the entire entryway of my house.

“Come in,” I say through the speaker on the doorbell camera while I press the buzzer so the door unlocks.

“Heeeeyyy!” Linc says when he walks into the family room. “Oh, hey, Mister O’Connell. Mrs. O’Connell. Good to see you two. Declan, my mama sent you a pie and some soup. She said it will fix you right up.” He holds up the two items, one in each hand.

“If only,” I say. “Please, tell her thank you.”

“I had to talk her out of bringin’ them herself. You know Mama Walker.”

“I do.”

“I’ll take those for you,” Winona offers, walking toward Lincoln.

“And who are you?” Delaney asks, taking Winona in as if she’s one of the women my mom sends my way regularly, not a hired home health aide.