Page 47 of Tangled with the Tight End

“We both survived,” I say.

“Oh, Winona. I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t need a sitter,” she says, “But she’s taken to escaping whenever I’m gone. Let’s see. There’s the elementary school, the park and there was that time at the thrift store. What a mess!” She shakes her head.

Sally grabs inside her purse while Jenny stands between us, the picture of feigned innocence.

Sally hands me a twenty and I hold it triumphantly out in front of Jenny.

“See this, Jenny?” I say, waving the bill around a little. "I got my payback."

She side-eyes me and with one chomp, she rips the money out of my hand and gobbles it down.

“Oh my gosh!” Sally shouts. “Jenny!” Her hand flies up to her mouth. “Winona! I’m so sorry!”

A laugh bubbles up and I can’t hold it in. I laugh so hard tears come to my eyes.

Sally apologizes the whole way through the house. All the way to the front porch.

I keep telling her it’s fine.

“I’ll send you a Venmo!” she shouts as I’m shutting the car door. “Jenny can’t eat that!”

I roll my window down and shout back, “I wouldn’t be so sure!”

I back down her driveway, leaving Sally and Jenny to spend a day doing whatever it is you do when you have a menace of a goat living inside your home with you.

I drive straight to Declan’s, wondering if he filled his compression cuff yet. He messaged me to say that the mini-freezer arrived last night. He had someone named Darlene set it up for him.

I was joking when I said “Have your people get you one.” He really does have people. Of course he does. He has an elevator and a TV in his restroom for heaven’s sake.

Unless Darlene is a girlfriend.

No.

If Declan had a girlfriend, she would have been around day and night since his injury. He’s obviously single.

Not that it matters.

It doesn’t.

I do feel a little better knowing someone like Declan is single. Maybe singleness isn’t a sign of missing the mark. Maybe it’s just another path in life—not better or worse than being in a committed relationship. Just … different.

I come to a stop in Declan’s driveway, looking in my back seat at the bags I brought.

Am I going overboard?

Maybe.

But my heart’s in the right place.

I let myself in the front door, shouting, “Hello? It’s me, Winona!”

“In here,” Declan’s deep voice rumbles down the hallway.

“What’s the mood today?” I ask, rounding the corner to find him in his same position, lying on the couch, leg elevated. No cold compression.

The mini-freezer is off in the corner of the room, humming lightly.

“So, you got the freezer, but didn’t use it?”