Winona
People often say that you've got to ‘let it all out.’
But keeping your feelings to yourself
is often an act of strength and endurance.
~ Unknown
The sound of laughter rings through Moss and Maple when Cass and I open the door to our book club gathering. I breathe in the smell of cinnamon and old books and sigh, shifting the object in my arm a little so I don’t drop it.
Cass turns to me. “You’re honestly bringing that thing to book club.”
“What’s wrong with her?” I ask.
“Her?”
“She loves book clubs.”
Cass laughs and shakes her head. “I love you, Winona. Don’t ever change.”
“If I were going to change, I wouldn’t even know where to start,” I assure her. Then I affect a Popeye accent and twist my mouth sideways. “I yam what I yam.”
She pulls me into a side hug. “I won the sister lottery.”
“I thought I won that,” I tell her.
We’re not exactly opposites, but we’re pretty close.
Cass knows how to have fun and let loose, but whatever made her push her way into the world before me is the way she lives life—taking charge, speaking her mind, always looking out for the people she loves.
She’s only got a minute and a half on me, but she’s definitely the firstborn.
“Meet Geese Witherspoon,” I say, holding up the twenty-one inch ceramic goose who is currently sporting a miniature brown bob wig, glasses and a prim dress. “She loves book clubs.”
Every head in the room swivels to look at the goose in my arms. They smile, but no one looks alarmed or put out. They’re used to me.
I set Geese in the middle of the coffee table. “I’m giving her to Declan. To cheer him up.”
“You’re giving Declan that?” Sydney says.
Now the shocked and appalled expressions erupt on every single face.
“Yeah. Why?”
“How do I say this?” Emberleigh asks. “Declan doesn’t exactly strike me as the porch goose type.”
“Trust me,” Daisy adds. “He’s not.”
“I think he’ll like it,” I insist.
“Declan?” Daisy asks. “He’s so … serious. And that house is not porch-goose ready.”
“That house is a palace,” I clarify. “It has a surround-sound system that’s probably better than the Waterford movie theater … and an intercom … and … wait for it … an elevator!”
“I know,” Daisy says.
I momentarily forgot she’s probably been to Declan’s home more than I have since she’s his sister-in-law.
“How did Patrick turn out so normal?” Cass asks.
“He’s the black sheep,” Daisy says, a fondness in her eyes.
“But back to that goose,” Syd says. “If you want a good home for it, we’ll put it outside the bakery. People will get a kick out of that.”
“Yeah,” Emberleigh says. “We could even have the special of the day on a little goose-sized chalkboard sign right by it.
“It’s a she,” I say. “And get your own goose. This one is Declan’s.” I look around at all my friends. “I know it seems odd, but I think he needs something just like this.”
Cass’s voice goes gentle. “He’s a pro football player, Win. I don’t want you getting your feelings hurt when he doesn’t appreciate your brand of thoughtfulness.”
I picture Declan on the sofa—the way he always thanks me before I leave, the way he tells me my extra effort means something, and he doesn’t even always tell me with words.
I know he’s grateful. What started with him being aloof and retreating into himself has turned into a …
friendship? Yes. I think we’re friends. And friends can give one another porch geese.
“I’m not fragile,” I tell Cass. “If Declan really doesn’t want it, Geese will come live on our porch.”
She nods, satisfied that I’m not going to get my heart broken. Little does she know, my heart is on a runaway train with no brakes. Nothing about my heart is safe right now and it has nothing to do with a porch decoration.
“How’s everyone enjoying the story?” Daisy asks, taking her seat.
We’re reading Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt.
“I only got through the first few chapters,” I confess. “I like Marcellus. Please someone, tell me he doesn’t die!”
Cass makes a zipping motion across her lips and Daisy says, “No spoilers in book club. Anyone else get past chapter four?”
No one has, so we talk about the first four chapters, and how carrying grief like the main character does can make us turn inward. I think of Declan. He was inward, but he seems to be getting past that now that we’re going to the practice facility more often.
“Where’d you go?” Cass asks me.
“Huh?”
“You were off somewhere else. Thinking of Marcellus?”
“No. I was thinking about Declan.”
Again, all eyes fix on me.
There’s no way I’m telling them about Declan’s emotional reaction to being on injured reserve, so I just stare each one of my friends in the eye. They stare back.
“So, how ’bout them Thunder?” Cass practically shouts, and everyone laughs.
Thankfully, no one pushes me on my thoughts about Declan.
We get back to talking about the book and I force my focus to stay off the tight end I haven’t seen since I left his house last night.
I sink into my chair, enjoying time with the women I’ve known since childhood, and Hallie. She moved here last year.
Cass leans over when Emberleigh is talking about a situation that happened at the bakery this week. “You seem happy.”
“Aren’t I usually happy?”
“You are. But you seem more … content. Is it because you’re so busy with all your odd jobs?”
“I like working,” I tell her.
But even though I love being Winona for Hire, my odd jobs aren’t the main reason I’m happy.
When book club ends, I climb into the passenger seat of Cass’s car and send Declan a text. I had no reason to see him today. It’s my day off.
I missed him.
I know I shouldn’t miss him. He’s a patient. Sometime in the coming months he’ll be going back on the field full time. And this season of his life will be a vague memory.
But tonight? He’s still my patient.
Winona: How are you doing?
Declan: Much better. No pain. Just resting and keeping the ibuprofen flowing.
Winona: Good. I’m really glad to hear that.
Declan: How was your day?
Winona: Good. I helped set up for a wedding at the old Harlan barn. Jennifer hired me for the day.
Declan: Winona for Hire. A woman of many talents.
Winona: … or a woman who needs to pay her many bills.
Declan: First laugh of the day. Thank you.
It’s already dark outside and he hasn’t laughed all day?
Winona: That’s tragic. By the way, I got you something.
Declan: What is it?
Winona: A surprise. A good one.
Declan: Did I mention that I don’t love surprises?
Winona: You’ll love this one.
“Who are you texting?” Cass asks. “We were just with all our closest friends. You’re hunkered over your phone like it’s your job.”
“It is my job,” I tell her. “I’m texting Declan.”
“Is he okay?” her voice is riddled with concern.
“Yeah. He’s fine. Just hasn’t laughed all day.”
She screws her face up and stares at me. “Is that part of your job? Making him laugh?”
“I make him laugh. And … laughter is the best medicine.”
“It really is,” she says. “I’m having a hard time picturing you making Declan laugh.”
“Why? Don’t you think I’m funny?”
“I think you’re hilarious. It’s just … making him laugh … that feels like a stretch.”
“We laugh a lot.”
She’s quiet. My phone pings with another text from Declan.
Then Cass says, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You do bring the sunshine wherever you go.”
Declan: So when do I get to see this surprise?
Winona: I’ll bring it when I come by tomorrow to take you to the practice facility.
Declan: Are you hanging out there again?
Winona: I’m going to drop you off and then I’m going to see my other patient. I’ll be back in the afternoon to pick you up.
Declan: The guys will be bummed. They liked seeing you at lunch.
Winona: How do you know that?
Declan: They texted me.
Winona: About me?
Declan: Yeah. You made quite an impression.
“Huh,” I say.
“What?” Cass asks.
“Nothing. Just the guys on the team were asking Declan if I was coming to lunch tomorrow again.”
The car swerves lightly when Cass’s head pivots toward me. “What?! You had lunch with the Thunder?”
“Not the whole team. Just Keller, Linc and Hendricks … and Declan, of course.”
“Of course? Of course? What on earth, Win? You had lunch with the running back, left tackle and two tight ends of the Tennessee Thunder and you didn’t say anything?
The Tennessee freaking Thunder!” She huffs out a breath and shakes her head.
“You don’t even like football. I would give a week’s salary to sit with those guys. ”
“I didn’t know this would mean so much to you. And for the record, I do like football—a lot more than I used to. I just had to understand it. Declan’s been teaching me.”
“He has?”
“Yeah. He’s a really good teacher.”
I think back to him teaching me to throw and I can’t stop smiling. I glance out the window so Cass won’t see my face.
“Declan O’Connell is teaching you about football?”
“You say his name like he’s a movie star.”
“Winona, he basically is. He makes more than most movie stars. He probably knows a bunch of movie stars. The question isn’t why I sound starstruck. The question is why you don’t.”
I think about her point. “I don’t know why. To me, he’s just Declan.”
She smiles over at me. “You’re one of a kind.”
“In a good way, right?”
“The best way.”
The next morning, I buckle Geese Witherspoon into the passenger seat and drive to Declan’s. I let myself in the front door, carrying Geese in one arm and a bag in the other.
I stop just shy of the family room.
But Declan surprises me, propelling on his crutches and coming up behind me.
I startle, losing my grip on Geese, juggling her, dropping the bag and flapping at her with my hands.
I catch her just before she hits the marble floor and shatters to her death.
“Oh my gosh!” I shout. “You scared the dickens out of me, Declan. And you nearly killed your surprise.”
“That’s my surprise?” He tips his chin toward Geese.
“Yes. Declan, meet Geese Witherspoon.” I look at Geese and wiggle her just a little. “Geese, meet Declan.”
He chuckles.
“Is there something more to the surprise?” he asks.
“Geese likes reading. As a matter of fact, last night she went to Geese’s book club.”