Jefferson smiled, and I took a moment to commit it to memory.
“Goose.” Patrick called out to me from his seat on the front steps.
“What?”
“Where are you, Goose?”
“I’m right here,” I said. “But why is Olivia Newton John singing to us?”
“Go,” Jefferson said.
“Goose.”
“I hear you, Patrick.”
“Goose. Goose!”
* * * *
I came to with Wilbur in my lap and my head in Patrick’s. Waking up to his face staring down at me was something I thought I could get used to. “Hey, you.”
“You’re awake,” he said.
“I am.”
“Do you know where you are?” Patrick asked.
“In the big, strong arms of the sexiest, redheaded man in America, him in his underwear, me dressed as Batman, snowed in at Cost-Mart, and listening to ‘Let’s Get Physical?’”
“Close enough.”
“How am I wrong?” I could have moved but chose
