6. Declan #3
“Oh!” Winona smiles widely. “Well, that makes a whole lot more sense.”
“It does,” Marcus says, sizing her up in a way that makes me want to stand and hobble over next to her. She’s my nurse’s aide. Not … whatever he might be thinking she is.
“This is Linc. And this is Jaxon,” Delaney says.
“Nice to meet you.” Winona smiles at each of them. Then she asks, “Is Linc your last name?”
Linc laughs softly. “No. My name is Lincoln. They call me Linc.”
“Now that makes sense,” Winona says. Then she turns, taking the pie and soup with her to the kitchen.
While she’s out of the room, my friends make themselves comfortable.
Dad clears his throat. “If you want us to look into other caregivers, I can have someone come up from Nashville to stay with you.”
No. That’s not what I want.
“Heaven knows this town only goes so far in offering quality,” Dad says.
His relationship with Waterford is complex.
He grew up here—raised his family here. And then he moved on to Nashville where he grew his business to be one of the most prominent development companies in the state.
He wants to support Waterford, but that support always comes in the form of criticism and suggestions for development rather than appreciation of what the town already has to offer.
“I’m fine with Winona for now,” I tell him.
He doesn’t say anything else.
Winona doesn’t come back right away. The guys start talking about practice.
I’m glad they’re here, but the conversation is bittersweet—bitter because I’m not where I should be, but sweet because they care enough to come over and try to include me.
It’s not easy for them to get away during the season.
They’ve got practice and treatment and workouts, film review, and meetings with coaches.
After a while, Winona rejoins us, hanging back and keeping an eye on me.
I glance up to see her leaned against the archway leading into the room, a soft smile on her face.
My dad stands. “Well, your mother and I better head out. We’ve got some appointments to get to.”
“Thanks for coming by,” I tell him.
Dad’s lips thin into a resolute almost-grin. “We’re rooting for you, Declan.”
Mom walks over, carefully placing a light kiss on my forehead and staring down at me. “Let me know what you need. I’ll arrange for whatever it is.”
The guys take my dad’s words as a cue and they stand too. “We’ve got to get to practice.”
I nod.
They move like athletes through the room—large, looming presences with the agility of jungle cats. The room is twice the size of a normal front room, but their combined presence shrinks the space. I glance down at my ankle and back up at them.
“We’ll come again when we can,” Jaxon says. Delaney and Linc nod in agreement.
“I know,” I tell them.
Visiting me is a sacrifice, and not only because we’re in season. Seeing me is a reminder of what could happen to any one of them. I’m a cautionary tale—one no one wants to read.
The front door closes behind my visitors, leaving me and Winona alone.
“Do you need anything?” she asks softly.
“Maybe a nap,” I say.
“Let’s get you comfortable, then. Or would you rather nap in bed?”
“Out here is fine,” I tell her, even though the bed might be more comfortable.
I’m not quite ready to have her in my bedroom. I know she’s only here as a healthcare worker. But she’s best friends with my sister-in-law. The lines around us are blurry.
She walks over and gently lifts my leg while I carefully rearrange myself so I’m flat on my back with my leg up on the pillows she fluffs and rearranges.
I close my eyes. I am drowsy, but my mind races a little.
The sound of Winona moving around the room settles something inside me. Maybe I’m not ready to be alone. I don’t question myself.
The jury in my head is still out as to her competence at nursing. She’s not bad at her job. I just can’t tell if she’s actually good at it yet. She feels scattered at times, but so far she’s given me good care.
What she is definitely a master at is handling chaos in an unexpected way.
Everyone else around here seems to want something from me—expectations fill the air, making it thick enough to choke on. My coaches and teammates want me back in the game. My dad wants me to be a superhero—as always. Mom wants me to be a good patient.
But Winona doesn’t seem to want anything from me.
She rolls with all of it—not even bending to my father.
I’ve met very few people in my life who aren’t intimidated by him. I’m tempted to say Winona’s too naive to notice Dad’s dominance, but there’s a spark in her eye that tells me she sees exactly what’s what. She simply doesn’t seem to care about status or his demands.
I sink into the pillow under my head, opening my eyes the smallest amount to watch her move around the room. She’s seemingly oblivious to my observation—except when she looks up and our eyes meet. The smile that spreads across her lips is sweet and courteous. It's a nurse-to-patient smile.
A niggling sensation like an itch that needs scratching tugs at me.
I want to make her smile a different smile.
And I don't know why.