15. Jenna
JENNA
A week later and I’m settling in nicely.
My house is starting to feel like mine—despite how much needs to be done to it—and I’m at least waking up with a purpose.
The hardware store makes for good temporary employment until I figure out what I’m going to do next.
Joy has trained me in every aspect of the store.
I can ring people up, look up prices, and even do a refund.
I know how to check inventory and help customers find what they need.
I’m exhausted though. I haven’t worked retail since high school, and it’s been years since I’ve spent this much time on my feet. It has taken everything in me not to verbally bemoan my aches and pains—I don’t want Joy to second-guess hiring me.
I have just enough money to scrape by, but I need to make some or I’ll never be able to pay Danny for the foundation work, list the house, and get the heck out of this town. There are just too many memories here, and it’s getting harder and harder to tuck them away in the back of my mind.
I’ve been packing up family photos and heirlooms bit by bit, but I can’t do it for very long.
Every box I pack with family treasures is like pouring salt in an open wound.
Earlier this week I was sorting through my mother’s old cookbooks when I came across a photo of my mom and me in the backyard, picking tomatoes.
In the photo, I’m holding up a tomato I had taken a big bite of, and the juice is running down my chin.
I’m grinning at the camera, and Mom is beaming at me.
I froze right there in the kitchen, my grief overwhelming me, and I ended up in a puddle on the floor.
That’s the thing about grief, you can think you’re doing okay, but it is always there—sneaking through the smallest crack and wrecking you all over again.
“So, it’s Saturday night. Any big plans?” Joy asks, jarring me out of my memory. She’s counting the cash in the register while I straighten the display. We’re still open for another hour, but Joy likes to get a jump start on closing when it’s slow.
“If you count scrolling my phone until my eyes blur, then yep,” I mutter sarcastically.
“Jenna! Come on, that’s no way to spend a Saturday night,” Joy chastises with a grin.
“Well, my TV is from 1997, and I still don’t have cable or internet, so that’s what I’m doing.
” I lift a shoulder. “I don’t mind it. When I get really bored, I stream Netflix on my phone.
I just get tired of holding it in front of my face.
Besides, I’m so exhausted, I’ll probably be asleep before ten.
” I give her a lazy smirk, feigning a yawn.
“No,” Joy whines. “Come with me and Leo to the brewery. They’re having a fall festival with all the seasonal beer flights.”
“I don’t know,” I say, knitting my brow.
I have worked with Joy’s brother Leo a few times now.
He seems nice. Miles mentioned that they’re buddies.
Leo reminds me a lot of him—just less responsible.
We had a lot of downtime when I worked with him the other day.
He told me he teaches surfing to vacationers in the summer and spends the off-season working here for his little sister.
He can’t stand a nine-to-five, or so he says.
He’s nice enough though, and Joy’s offer is tempting.
It beats staying home alone feeling sorry for myself again.
Then again, Leo and Miles are friends, and I haven’t spoken to Miles since I left his office last week.
He’s reached out a few times, but I’ve kept my responses short.
I don’t want to encourage him when I’m still planning to leave.
Maybe I could be swayed to start over here in Cape May, but Miles told me himself he’s not great at commitment.
I’ve been through enough—I have to protect my heart.
If I go tonight, Miles might be there. As much as I desperately want to see him, I really don’t .
It’ll only make this harder. The best thing I can do is keep things between us friendly and professional.
Lately, I’ve been thinking that it’s time for a big change, but I don’t know what.
The more I look at the old photos in the house, the less I recognize the girl I used to be.
I’ve spent so long taking care of my mom, it’s almost as if I’ve lost myself completely.
Now I realize I’ve been going through the motions for years—content with mediocrity.
It was as if I had to get through my mother’s illness, wait for her to die, and then figure out who I am and what I want.
The truth is, I had been discontented at work for a while—never being awarded the opportunity for promotion.
Never being trusted enough to make project decisions on my own.
I never had the courage to make a change because I was so exhausted in my personal life.
I used to wake up every morning at 3 a.m., check on Mom’s breathing, reposition her if needed.
Now, I sleep through the night—I’m free.
But as soon as that thought creeps into my head, I berate myself for feeling that way.
Grief is so complicated. No one tells you that it can also be laced with relief.
I could move out near Morgan and start completely fresh.
Morgan is my oldest friend. She’s seen me through my darkest days.
I don’t have anyone else now, so why not move out near her?
I can start over there and put myself first for the first time in a long time.
But something doesn’t feel completely right about that and I don’t know why.
And then, it’s as if the universe hears my thoughts.
The front door jingles before Joy can convince me, signaling we have a customer. A soft gasp escapes me. If I was tired before, I’m wide awake now. My cousin Jake saunters in, followed by my Aunt Leona, and I was not prepared for this in the least.
“Jenna.” Jake sounds as surprised as I feel. “What are you doing here?” he asks me for the second time in a week.
“I work here.” I level my voice. Be cool.
“You work here?” Jake’s brow furrows, but he appears to recover quickly. “I thought you—” He pauses and clears his throat. “Never mind.”
“Jenna Rose Rossi, is that you?” Aunt Leona’s voice is sharper than I expect. She peers around Jake’s shoulders, eyes sweeping over me. Then, raw emotion clouds her features, her eyes glistening. “I haven’t seen you since you were a girl,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I know,” I murmur. “I’m sorry for that.” My eyes sting as I fight back unexpected tears. I wasn’t prepared to see my father’s sister tonight. In the hardware store of all places.
“How long have you been back?” Aunt Leona asks, her voice tender with surprise.
I suck in a breath and glance at Joy for encouragement, but she’s way too enraptured by the scene before her.
I turn back to Jake and his mom. “My mom died… I thought you heard,” I mutter, pushing down the resentment that no one from my dad’s side of the family so much as reached out to me.
I assumed they would have heard through the cousins my mom kept in touch with, but maybe not.
“I didn’t know she still had our house here until a couple of weeks ago.
I came back to sell it, but it needs too much work, so I’m staying for a bit.
” I continue, raising my eyebrows with a soft exhale.
It’s been so long since I’ve seen Aunt Leona, and suddenly, I want nothing more than to fold her into a hug—despite her falling out with my mom.
I don’t know what happened between them, but suddenly, none of it matters.
It’s like seeing my dad again. I can’t help it; my eyes fill with fresh tears, and I have to bat them away.
“I did hear about your mother,” she says gently, her voice thick with emotion.
“I’m so sorry, dear.” She steps closer, reaching for my hand.
I let her take it. “I know things were…strained…when your father passed, but I want you to know—I’ve always missed you.
When you and Jake were in college together, he used to fill me in on how you were doing.
It warmed my heart.” Aunt Leona gives a sad smile.
“I’d love to know how you’re doing now.”
“Thank you,” I say, and it lingers in the air because I can’t think of anything to say next.
Joy clears her throat. “Was there something I could help you find, Mrs. Walker? It’s just…
we’re getting ready to close.” She comes around the side of the counter, linking her arm through Aunt Leona’s.
“Let’s go look around.” Then she leads her away, like the gem she is, giving me a chance to collect myself a little.
I reach for a tissue and blot my eyes when Jake speaks.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to catch you off guard.” His voice is quiet, almost remorseful. “I didn’t even know you worked here.”
“No, no, I know you didn’t.” I sniffle, throwing the tissue in the trash.
“Are you still hanging around Miles?” Jake asks, catching me by surprise.
“Um…not really. Why?” I walk behind the counter and busy myself with the dust cloth again.
“I’m just wondering… He doesn’t have the greatest reputation.” Jake shrugs. “I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
Before I can respond, Joy and Aunt Leona return to the register with two battery-powered smoke alarms. “I can ring you up right here, Mrs. Walker,” Joy says cheerfully, walking behind the counter.
I step out of her way and my gaze shifts to Jake. So many questions fill my mind. What do you mean his reputation isn’t great? What do you mean I’ll get hurt? Why do you care? Why do I care?
My aunt pays for her items and Joy makes awkward small talk.
I want to ask Jake about Miles’s reputation but what does it matter, really?
We’re barely even friends. I’m not staying.
In a few weeks, Miles will be nothing more than the guy who helped me sell an old house with ghosts of the past hiding in the walls.
Joy hands Aunt Leona her bag and Jake takes it from her. “Let’s get that lunch, okay?” He cocks his head—like he’s concerned and trying to decide for himself if I’m okay.
“Okay,” I squeak.
Aunt Leona pauses in front of me. “Jenna, dear, please come have dinner with me? We have so much lost time to make up for.” She squeezes my shoulder, and I don’t pull away.
I nod. “Jake has my number. We can set something up.”
“I would love that. Come along, Jake,” she says, and he follows her out the door.
When they’re gone, Joy breaks the silence first. “Oh my God! What was that?” she demands, an excited curiosity bubbling in her voice.
“That was…my cousin Jake and my estranged aunt that I haven’t seen in twenty-five years.” I suck in a breath, leaning on the countertop with my head in my hands.
“I know Jake. I had the biggest crush on him in high school,” Joy says, and her eyes look starry. She shakes her head, snapping out of it. “And I guess if you’re estranged, you were really surprised.” Joy lets out a low whistle.
“I saw Jake the other day at the beach when I was surfing with Miles, but yeah. I wasn’t expecting to see my aunt like that.”
“It could’ve gone worse,” Joy assures me. She scrunches up her face like she’s mulling something over. “Wait back up…surfing with Miles. Miles Corbin?”
“Yeah. He’s my property manager, why?” I ask, suddenly wondering if there really is more to this guy I can’t stop thinking about.
“Well, he’s quite the Casanova.” Joy laughs. “He’s friends with Leo. Just be careful, okay?”
“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” I say wryly. “It’s fine. I’m not staying here anyway.” I wave my hand dismissively.
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Girls who aren’t staying are exactly the kind of girls Miles likes.” Joy rolls her eyes as she locks the register drawer.
“Whatever. What do you say we hit the brewery?” Suddenly, I desperately need a change of subject and scenery.
“I say, you’re on!” Joy reaches into the cabinet and grabs our jackets, tossing mine to me. “Let’s get you cheered up.”