Page 57 of Tangled with the Tight End

Her face grows serious, like Linc’s when he’s studying the playbook.

“It’s just a movie,” I tell her.

“Shhhh,” she says. “Just a movie. What in the world? Leave me be while I pick something amazing.”

She scrolls through the channels, and I watch her.

“Oooh! I know! Let me get into my account.”

She pulls up a movie channel, enters her code and clicks on a technicolor image of a dark-haired man being embraced by a red-haired woman.

“Is this a kissing movie?” I ask, mocking one of my brother’s favorite movies and books.

“You know The Princess Bride?” she asks, her mouth actually popping open.

“It’s Patrick’s favorite. I’ve endured it numerous times.”

She points at me. “You’re not fooling me, Declan. You like that movie. Would you rather watch that? I can never get enough Princess Bride in my life.”

“No. Let’s watch this …” I read the title out loud. “An Affair to Remember. I’ve never seen it.”

“You’re kidding me!”

“Nope. I don’t get a ton of free time where I’m laying around on a couch watching classic movies.”

“This is the movie that captures Meg Ryan’s heart in Sleepless in Seattle.” Winona squints over at me. “Tell me you’ve seen Sleepless in Seattle.”

When I don’t answer, she practically shouts. “Oh! Declan. Okay. We’re on a mission now. You need to be educated.”

I chuckle. “Okay. Educate me.”

She settles back into her chair and pushes play.

I watch the movie. But I also find myself turning to watch her, especially toward the point in the movie when they’re supposed to meet at the top of the Empire State Building and she doesn’t show. I pivot my head just in time to catch Winona wiping a tear off her cheek.

She smiles over at me. The family room has grown dark over the course of the movie. I turn the overhead dimmer lights on low with a control on my phone so I can see her better without fully eliminating the darkness.

“He thinks she changed her mind,” Winona says softly to me. “It’s so sad.”

“How many times have you watched this?” I ask.

Winona pauses the movie. “I don’t even know. Maybe twenty? But it gets me every time.”

I smile. She’s so raw. What you see is what you get. No pretense. No agenda.

I don’t say anything else, so she clicks play.

“Nickie held up his end,” I say when the leading man waits and then walks off, resuming his life as a painter.

“He did,” she says softly. “She’s just embarrassed.”

“I get that,” I tell her.

Is it sheer irony that Winona picked a film where the leading lady is paralyzed and unable to face life with her injury? I wonder.

When the main characters bump into one another again, I want to scream at the screen.

I end up shouting, “Tell him!”