Page 11 of Tangled with the Tight End

“Yes. But I can do whatever you need. I was just looking at my bank account.” I make a sour face that looks like that emoji with its tongue sticking out and its eyes squinched shut.

“I know how that feels,” she says. “Before Patrick and I were married—back when the shop was at the original location—I sometimes wondered how I’d make payroll. I didn’t want to relocate, but it’s been good for business being closer to town. And having a second household income has been nice too. The perks of marriage.” She pauses. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I can always take out a loan. I’m just trying not to. I’d like to pay for school and walk out with my degree, not a debt.”

Daisy nods.

“You can always pick up another day here. I can always use the help. And I miss having you around.”

“I would, but I never know what my next assignment will be for my clinical hours. I don’t want to be unreliable.”

“What about doing some odd jobs around town? You have your online classes and work, but you could pick up some … dog walking?”

“Dog walking.” I mull the idea over in my head. “I do love dogs.”

“And you like kids.”

“I do. But I don’t think kid walking is a thing.”

Daisy laughs lightly. “No. But babysitting is. And housesitting.”

“Housesitting. Why do they call it sitting? Especially with babies. I don’t think you sit much. It almost sounds like you’re sitting on the baby.”

“I really don’t know,” Daisy says. “But I like this idea for you. With odd jobs, people could call you and if you’re available, you say yes. If not, you say no. It gives you flexibility and a little spare income.”

I think it over. “I like it too.” I take a deep breath, imagining my bank account balance being a little fluffier, and I sigh. “Yes. I like it a lot. Thanks, Daisy.”

“You could call it Winona for Hire.”

Effie walks into the room. “Winona for Hire?”

“Yes,” Daisy says. “It’s her new gig. Need your lawn mowed? Winona for hire.”

“Want your dog walked?” I say. “Winona for hire.”

“Need an extra hand passing hors d’ oeuvres at your next fancy party?”

We both say, “Winona for hire.”

“Want me to babysit without the sitting?” I say.

Daisy chuckles and all three of us say, “Winona for hire.”

“Let’s make some flyers,” Daisy suggests. “I’ll print them on the printer. You can put your phone number on little tear-off tabs at the bottom. Hang one on the community board at the deli. Then ask Emberleigh and Syd if you can hang one in the bakery. I bet you’ll get a call as early as this afternoon.”

“You think?” I ask.

“I do. People know you. They trust you. And everyone has jobs they need to get done.”

Daisy turns to head upstairs to her office.

Effie says, “You go on up with her. I’ll man the shop. I’ll holler if anyone needs anything I can’t handle on my own.”

“Okay. Thanks,” I say, standing and following Daisy upstairs.

Fifteen minutes later, I’ve got two flyers in hand, the bottom row of each has tiny strips with my name and number.

“Go ahead and run over to the deli and the bakery,” Daisy says on our way back downstairs. “Hang these up and come back when you’re finished.”