30. Jenny
Chapter 30
Jenny
After Trent leaves, I sit back down next to Grandpa, wrapping him in a big hug. The familiar scent of his aftershave and the faint scent of his favorite peppermint candy cling to him. At this moment, I am so thankful that he is here with me.
“There, there, Jenny,” he says softly, smoothing my hair down with his weathered hand, just like he used to do when I was a little girl. “Everything is going to be alright.” His touch is steady, his love a constant I can always count on.
“I know,” I whisper, blinking back tears. “I just feel so bad for Trent and his family. First the tornado and the marina, and now this.”
“Don’t forget, that’s your family too, sweet pea.”
I look up at him and nod, my chest tightening. He’s right. They are my family now too. A sense of determination wells up inside me—I’m going to go above and beyond at the marina today while I wait for Trent to update me.
“I need to get back up to the shop,” I say, straightening and brushing off the hem of my jeans. “We have renters coming in today, and I need to get everything prepared so Trent doesn’t worry about anything while he’s at the hospital.”
“Alright. See you later.”
“Bye, Grandpa.”
When I get to the office, I fill Greg in on Trent’s phone call. “Well,” I say, gesturing toward the clipboard on the counter, “we have quite a few boat rentals today. Everything’s ready except giving the normal rental rundowns. Greg, if you want to handle those, I can manage the cabin renters.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Greg says with a firm nod, rolling up his sleeves. Despite only working at the marina for just over a year, he moves with the confidence of someone who knows the marina inside and out. It’s clear this place means as much to him as it does to Trent.
The hours blur as we both set out to do our best to cover for Trent while he’s out. It’s a steady rhythm of tasks—answering calls, checking inventory, and organizing keys. Renters come and go, filling the marina with a constant hum of activity.
The air smells of lake water and sun-warmed wood, mingling with the faint scent of sunscreen. Laughter rings out from the docks, where families eagerly load their gear into boats. It’s a reminder that life moves on, even in the midst of uncertainty and chaos.
By three o’clock, I finally have a chance to catch my breath. I pull out my phone and find a text from Trent, sent about an hour ago.
Trent: Grandfather is doing ok. They’re giving him a pacemaker, but he should be fine and able to go home tomorrow if everything goes well.
Relief floods me as I quickly reply:
Jenny: I’m glad to hear he’s doing better and that he’ll be able to come home so soon. Everything at the marina is good. Greg has been helping me cover today, and we just got done with the last of the rentals.
Three dots appear on the screen, then vanish. My heart beats a little faster as I wait.
Trent: Thank you. I appreciate you more than you know.
Jenny: **Heart emoji**
A smile tugs at my lips, and the knot of worry in my chest begins to loosen. Grandpa Samson is going to be okay. I look around for Greg, eager to share the good news.
I step outside and spot him coming up from one of the docks, a clipboard tucked under his arm. “Hey, Greg,” I call out, waving as I approach.
“Hi, Jenny,” he says, stopping beside me. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” I say, unable to keep the smile from my face. “I just heard from Trent. They’re giving Samson a pacemaker, and he should be able to head home tomorrow if everything goes well tonight.”
“That’s great news,” Greg says, his expression softening. “I bet Trent is so relieved. He’s likely driving everyone crazy trying to take care of his mom and dad and seeing to his grandfather.”
“Yes, he is definitely relieved,” I say. “And you’re probably right about driving everyone crazy. When I got back from the hospital, he was checking on me constantly.”
“Well, you gave us all quite a scare that night,” Greg says, shaking his head at the memory. “I’ve never seen Trent so upset and worried in my life.”
“I didn’t mean to worry everyone,” I say softly, glancing down at my hands.
“I know you didn’t,” he replies gently. “But we’re so happy to have you here. Trent is the happiest he’s ever been—and that’s saying something.”
“Thank you,” I say, my throat tight with emotion. “That means so much to me.”
“I’m not saying it to be kind,” he says, his voice firm and sincere. “You’re just what Trent needs. Now, with everything done here, I’m going to head into the office to work on a few things before I leave. Call for me if you need anything, okay?”
I nod, his words leaving me speechless. As he walks away, a lump forms in my throat. The love and acceptance I’ve found in this friend group feels overwhelming, filling a void I hadn’t even realized was still there.
I have to talk to Trent about how I feel. Unless someone dragged me kicking and screaming, there’s no way I can walk away from this life—from Trent.
Today is the day Samson heads home. I know Trent is helping Mrs. Hughes bring him back to their house, but the hours drag like molasses.
Every time the chime over the marina shop door sounds, I glance up, hoping it will be my Trent.
My Trent? Yes, he is, isn’t he?
The thought fills me with warmth, even as a nervous flutter stirs in my chest. It hasn’t been the same sleeping in our little studio apartment without him. I know it’s only been one night, but it feels longer—achingly longer.
I want to tell Trent how I feel, but I’m scared. Will it scare him away? He hadn’t wanted to get married to me when we started this relationship. It was all my idea. Circumstances forced his hand, his love for the marina outweighing everything else.
But could his heart belong to me too? Mine certainly belongs to him.
I don’t want things to end. I’ve fallen in love with my husband, and now I have to summon the courage to ask if he might stay married to me—not just for now, but for the long haul. For forever.
The shrill ring of my phone breaks my thoughts, making me jump. I hurry to pick it up, my heart thudding against my ribs.
“Hi,” I blurt, not even giving the caller a chance to speak, “is everything okay?”
A warm chuckle comes from the other end of the line. “Yes, dear,” Mrs. Hughes says, “everything is fine. We just wanted to thank you again for letting Trent stay at the hospital with us. Grandfather was happy to see him there too. And Trent has felt so relieved not having to worry about the marina, knowing it was in such capable hands. Edmund is also so impressed with how you’ve been with managing everything in Trent’s absence.”
“Oh, thank you,” I say shyly, heat rising to my cheeks. “It was nothing, really.”
“It was most certainly not nothing, dear. It was everything,” she replies, her tone both gentle and emphatic.
Mr. Hughes voice crackles through the line. “Jenny, I want you to know—there’s no way I could have picked a better girl for my son in a million years. You’re just what this family needed.”
“Thank you,” I manage to squeak, barely finding my voice.
“I also wanted to call and tell you Trent is on his way back,” Mrs. Hughes says. “It’s going to take him a bit to make his way around the lake, but he’s heading your way.”
My heart skips a beat knowing Trent is heading home, my cheeks warming again as my pulse quickens.
“That’s good to hear,” I manage. “So that means Samson has settled in at your place?”
“Yes, he has,” she says, then hesitates, her voice soft and heavy with emotion. “I also wanted to say . . .”
“Yes?” I prompt gently, sensing something important.
There’s a pause before she continues, her voice thick with feeling. “I’m just so thankful that Trent has you in his life. I’ve never seen my boy so happy and at peace. You’ve lifted a burden off his shoulders—and mine as well. Plus, now I finally have the daughter I’ve always wanted. We weren’t blessed to have more than one child, and while I love my son dearly, I’d always hoped for a daughter too.”
Tears prick my eyes at her heartfelt words. “You’re welcome, Mrs. Hughes. You all have been so welcoming. I appreciate you all so much.”
“Maureen, dear. Please call me Maureen.”
When we hang up, the tears spill over, sliding down my cheeks. Maureen and Edmund’s kindness is overwhelming. How much more of this can I take, knowing there’s an expiration date hanging over Trent and me?
After closing up the shop, I race upstairs to our little apartment, my mind buzzing with nervous energy. I hurriedly tidy up, straightening cushions and wiping down the counters before throwing on an apron.
In the kitchen, I chop, stir, and season, determined to put something special on the table. I’m not the most skilled cook, but I can manage a few decent dishes, and tonight feels important—like it should be just right.
The apartment smells warm and inviting. Dinner is ready, the little kitchen table is set, and two candles flicker softly in the dim light. And then Trent steps through the door.