Goldie and the Three Wisconsin Bears

However, I get an unexpected reprieve from saying goodbye when I come out to the kitchen. Nobody’s there.

I find a note written on the smart fridge’s door. “Almost done with the upstairs. We’ll see you at lunch to do the money exchange.”

Good, so they have the money, and they’ll give it to me at lunchtime.

The thought of leaving behind the safe haven we’ve built here twists my heart. But the thought of Tommy finding me and hurting them is even more terrifying than that. Also, I always knew this would be temporary. The guys will be returning to practice soon, which means traveling back down to their house in Muskego.

The popping of our fantasy bubble was inevitable. I might as well leave before they return to their real lives. It will be better that way. Hurt less.

I spend the rest of the morning, thinning back the garden I’ll be leaving behind. But a weird inner sensation brings my head up after a couple of hours of cutting out the weak plants, so that the strong, healthy ones can thrive.

My gaze finds the decrepit barn on the other side of the lake. Mitch told me no one lives there the other day, but a bad feeling comes over me. Maybe I’ve seen too many horror stories. Something about the old, rotted structure is giving me the creeps.

“You okay there, Goldie?”

I turn around to see Mitch and Nico, standing at the back door of the house.

Is it lunchtime already?

“We finished the upstairs and wanted to show it to you before lunch,” Nico says when I reach the back door.

Happiness for them replaces my sense of foreboding about the barn. “You did? That’s so great!”

“Yeah, actually we put a few pieces of furniture up there already. And we just wanted to see if you like them. You know, vet it for our future wife.”

“Oh.” Something inside of me fizzles a little. I’ve always wanted to be an interior designer. But the truth is, designing the cabin was a new kind of challenge. When I was done, I hadn’t felt delighted for my client like I usually did when I was done with a project. I just felt upset because the woman who would be enjoying this cabin wouldn’t be me.

But I have no right to feel jealous. No right at all. So I tamp down my feelings like a big girl and wallpaper on a smile. “Of course. Is Jeb still upstairs?”

As if in answer to my question, a horn beeps behind us.

I turn to see Jeb drive up in a red Ford Expedition. It’s sparkling clean, unlike the mud-covered F-150 they usually drive. And it has dealer tags on it.

What the…

“Sorry I’m late,” Jeb apologizes with a grouchy lock. “The dealership took forever. You’d think it would have gone faster.”

“Why?” Mitch asks. “Because you’re such a huge football star?”

“No, asshole, because I was paying cash,” Jeb answers, glaring at Mitch. “You know I don’t give a shit about that.”

Mitch makes a great show of sucking on his teeth. “I know you say you don’t…”

I cut off their squabble to ask, “Did you decide to trade in the truck?”

They both look down at me then back at the truck, but it’s Nico who says, “No, Goldie, that’s your car.”

“What?” I shake my head, not understanding.

“Remember we talked about this,” Mitch says. As if buying me a car had been a full discussion, not a possibility they’d floated months ago to extend my contract by a week.

Also, “I thought you were talking about a compact car like the Chevy Nova or something. This is too nice, and it’s huge!”

Nico just takes my hand and leads me toward the large SUV. “This car’s got good safety ratings. Plus, it’s great for driving in the snow.”

Jeb runs a little in front of us. “Also, I pre-installed the seat for you.”

He opens the back door to reveal a rear-facing baby seat, just like he promised. There’s a diaper bag sitting inside of it.

“Open it,” Nico says, letting my hand go with a squeeze.

“Open the diaper bag?” I repeat, not understanding.

But then suddenly, I do.

When I unzip the bag, I find several KN95 masks packages….and stacks upon stacks of bills.

I freeze.

Contrary to how rusty I felt when we first began this arrangement, I discover that I still have at least one talent leftover from my Magic Peaches girl skillset. I instantly recognize that this is way, way more than the agreed upon fifty thousand dollars.

“How much is in here?” I demand.

“Five hundred thousand,” Mitch answers. “And if you ever need more, all you gotta do is ask. We’ll send it to you wherever you are.”

“But if I were you, I’d get that money into a bank account as soon as possible,” Jeb says. “That’s a lotta cash to be carrying around in a diaper bag.”