Page 103 of Wishing Hearts

“I know, Carl. I’m gonna get hitched, just you watch. I’m gonna marry that man and have his babies. Well,” I amend, shrugging a little as I let Carl go, “not literally, but we sure can try. Often and hard.”

“Aw, c’mon now,” Carl groans, hiding his face behind his hands. I ignore his mumbled, “Why?”

“And then there’s Winifred,” I go on with a soft smile. “She’s warmin’ to me. It’s slow goin’, but I don’t mind. We’ve got time.”

“That’s the daughter?” Carl asks, dropping his arms.

I give him a nod. “Yeah. She taught me how to make a volcano.” I grab the extra wire fencing off the ground as I tell him, “We’re gonna add dinosaurs next time.”

Carl shakes his head a little, walking with me toward the building. “It’s kinda wild to hear you talkin’ about a kid, y’know? You’ve never dated anybody with a family before.”

“I know,” I say, having realized the same thing myself. It wasn’t a conscious choice by any means. It just happened that way. I like the fact that Harrison comes with Winnie. I like the both of them a hell of a lot.

Carl holds the door open for me, and I bring our supplies inside. Our footsteps echo a little as we walk down the hall, until the sound of barking dogs takes over.

“I’m happy for you, Sammy,” Carl says at last, stopping outside the storage room. He opens the door for me so I can stash the extra wire and clippers inside, as well as the little bag of metal connectors I had in my pocket. “There’s no one who deserves it more than you.”

“Dang, Carl,” I say, huffing out a breath before I tug my friend in. He slaps my back, and I slap his. “I appreciate that. But, uh, what about you? Countin’ yourself out?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m doin’ all right. Got Rosie, after all.”

“Yeah,” I say with a little smile. “Maybe Rosie could meet Tigger sometime. We could have a cookout.”

“Won’t say no to that,” Carl says, stepping with me down the hall. “See ya tomorrow?”

“You bet,” I tell him. “Have a good night, Carl.”

Carl tips his head before pushing into the employee break room, and I divert toward the front of the building. I find Tilda inside one of the cat rooms and give the glass a little knock before circling around to the door that leads inside.

“Hey there, Sammy,” she greets, an orange tabby in her arms.

“Tilly. Fence is all taken care of,” I let her know, bending down to scratch the back of a kitten trying to claw up my leg.

“Thanks, hun.” She gives my head a little pat.

I snort.

“So,” Tilda says slowly. “How’re things goin’ with that doctor of yours?”

“You and Carl both seem awfully preoccupied with my love life,” I note, not unhappily.

“Well, of course,” she says. “We care.”

My chest warms at that, and I look up from my crouched position. A couple of cats have come over to me now and are rubbing against my legs, and I run my hands along their backs as I catch Tilda’s eye. This woman, who didn’t know me until I was already an adult, but who pseudo-adopted me anyway.

“I love you, Tilly,” I tell her, using, like always, the name she told me to call her upon our first meeting. Because family calls me Tilly, Sammy boy. “You know that, right?”

“Oh, Sammy,” she says fondly, setting down the cat in her arms before opening them wide.

I stand up, meeting Tilda for a hug, my throat more than a little tight.

“I know you do,” she answers, her presence surrounding me like a comfortable cloud. “I love you, too. And I’m so very happy for you.”

“Why’s that?” I ask, stepping back.

Tilda raises an eyebrow. “’Cause you found the one, of course.”

I bark a laugh, can’t help it. “And how d’you know that?” I only just told Carl about the whole I love you thing a handful of minutes ago.

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