28. Jenny
Chapter 28
Jenny
After the volunteers get their directions from Margot and Trent, they spring into action. The energy on the marina grounds is bustling yet focused, with voices calling out instructions and the rhythmic sounds of debris being cleared. I make my way around, handing water bottles out to the players.
“Thanks, ma’am,” one of them says, his forehead glistening with sweat as he pauses to take the bottle. The genuine gratitude in his voice catches me off guard. I’m the one genuinely grateful for their help.
As I move from one group to the next, offering a smile or quick words of thanks, I can’t help but be in awe at how much is being accomplished. They really do work well as a team. I’d love to see them in action on the football field one day.
Trent hangs up his phone and walks over to me. “Just got off the phone with Mr. Newman. He’s checking on his boat again. I feel like my phones been ringing off the hook since the tornado—boat owners making sure their boats survived. Thankfully, Mr. Newman’s one of the lucky ones.”
“That’s good,” I say, my voice heavy with exhaustion.
Trent steps closer, his hands gently gripping my arms. “How are you holding up? You look worn out. Why don’t you head up to the studio apartment and rest for a bit?”
I nod, glancing around at the volunteers still hard at work. “That actually sounds like a good plan.” I make my way up to the small studio apartment that Trent and I will be calling home for the foreseeable future. I can’t imagine it will be a short timeframe to get the house relivable, considering how long it took Trent to build it in the first place. As I close the door behind me, the sounds of the cleanup fade to a dull hum.
The space is modest but cozy—just enough for the essentials. Trent brought over a few of my surviving belongings and added some of his own, blending our lives into this temporary shared space. I lay down on our bed, my head throbbing. I’m amazed that passing out water bottles has drained me this much. I close my eyes and drift into sleep.
I wake up to a soft knocking at the door. I slowly get out of bed and open the door.
“Jenny!” My grandpa’s voice is thick with emotion. “I was so worried about you!” He glances up at my stitches. “Are you alright?”
“I’m okay, Grandpa,” I say, giving him a small hug. “Come on in.”
“Trent told me where to find you,” Henry says as he takes a seat by the table. “I wanted to check on you, but I won’t stay long. You need your rest.”
I pull up a chair next to him. “I’m doing fine, Grandpa. Really. The marina took a hit, but we’re already making good progress on repairs. We have a great group of volunteers helping us out.”
“I haven’t been worried about the marina,” he says, taking one of my hands. “I’ve been worried sick about you. You’ve been on my mind every second since the tornado. Trent’s been giving me updates, but it’s not the same as hearing your voice, sweat pea.”
“I know, Grandpa. But now you know you don’t have to worry about me,” I reassure him, trying to keep the exhaustion out of my voice. “Trent has been so wonderful. I don’t know how he’s been managing everything, but he’s been organizing, making calls, keeping everyone calm. And he’s been making sure I don’t overdo things now that I’m out of the hospital. He’s . . . amazing.”
Henry lets out a soft sigh, the kind that says he doesn’t have to worry quite as much. “I always knew he was a good egg. Sounds like he’s proving me right.”
“He is,” I say, my voice soft. “And how are you? I was worried about you too.”
“Now, don’t you be worrying about me,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I’m an old man, you know. This isn’t my first tornado.”
I grin and squeeze his hand back. “I’ll always worry about you, Grandpa. No matter how old you get.”
Henry laughs at that. “I love you, sweet pea.”
“I love you too.”
We talk for only a few minutes longer before he stands, readying to leave. “Now that I’ve seen you with my own two eyes and know Trent is taking care of you, I feel much better.” He kisses me on the cheek. “Now, get some rest.”
“I will,” I say.
When he leaves, I sink into the armchair by the window, exhaustion pressing into my bones. And then, without warning, the tears come.
They’re a steady stream down my cheeks as I let the weight of the past few days wash over me. I am thankful—so deeply thankful—to have walked away from the tornado with nothing more than bruises and some stitches. One look at the wreckage of our home, and it was clear how much worse it could have been. I’ve never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but the relief I feel at being able to walk away from that is overwhelming.
And then there is Trent. Sweet, steadfast Trent. He worried for me, cared for me, protected me in ways I hadn’t expected. This marriage was supposed to be a convenient arrangement—a yearlong solution to two separate problems. But in the short time we’ve been together, something deeper has taken root.
I wipe my eyes and inhale a shaky breath. I need to talk to someone about this. And I know just who can help me sort this out.
The familiar scent of sugar and baked goods greets me the moment I step into Holly’s bakery.
“Jenny!” Holly calls, rushing out from behind the counter. Her arms wrap around me.
“Hi, Holly,” I say, laughing lightly as I return the hug, though I wince at the pressure against my bruises.
“Oh, sorry!” she says, pulling back quickly, her eyes scanning me for any sign of distress. “What are you doing here? You should be resting. Are you feeling okay? How are your stitches?”
“I’m okay,” I assure her, though my voice wavers. “Just tired and sore. Honestly, the emotional part has been the hardest.”
Holly’s expression softens. “I can’t imagine. When Greg told me what happened, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. But you’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Come sit down. I’ll get you something to eat.”
I sit at one of the tables, and Holly joins me, passing me a slice of hummingbird cake and cold water in a glass. “Thank you,” I say.
“How’s the marina holding up?” Holly asks. “Greg says there’s a lot to do over there.”
I glance around the cozy bakery and swallow some water. “There is a lot to do. But Margot brought some of the football players to help with the marina cleanup. They are making light work of a big job. Trent and I are so grateful. I thought they deserved some sort of treat for all their hard work. I can’t do much physically, doctor's orders, but I figured this was one way I could contribute.”
“Say no more!” Holly says, already bustling back behind the counter. She calls out to her assistant, Paige, who hurries over with a bright smile.
“What are you thinking?” Holly asks, her hands already reaching for containers.
“Maybe a little of everything?” I say. “I wasn’t sure what exactly you might have available today. There are just over thirty guys, not counting Trent and Margot.”
Holly’s eyebrows shoot up. “Most of the team came out? That’s amazing.”
“It is,” I agree, smiling at the thought. “Margot may be smaller than the players, but she is mighty. She’s got them going every which way, working on just about everything. All the players seem to have a deep respect for her.”
“As they should,” Holly says, her tone firm but proud as she carefully arranges pastries.
While Holly gathers the treats, my thoughts wander to Trent—to the day we’d first met, him bringing me here, and how far we’ve come since.
“You okay?” Holly asks, her voice cutting gently through my reverie.
I nod, then hesitate. “Can I tell you something? And you promise not to tell anyone?”
Holly sets down the container she is filling, pulls out a chair, and turns toward me, her expression open and kind. “Of course. What is it?”
And so I tell her. About the real reason Trent and I got married so fast, Samson’s contract stipulations, and me wanting to have a permanent job and a place to live that was close to my grandpa. And finally, about the emotions I can’t quite suppress.
Holly nods knowingly. “Oh, Jenny, I’ve known about the marriage of convenience for a while now.”
I gasp. “How did you know?”
“Well, Trent told Greg and Niall, and, of course, Greg couldn’t keep it from me.” She gives me a small understanding smile. “I just wanted to give you and Trent some time to figure it out before saying anything.”
“I should have figured,” I say. “I know you and Greg are inseparable.”
Holly smiles. “He’s the love of my life. But tell me more about you and Trent.”
“Holly,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, “I think I’m falling in love with my husband.”
Holly’s eyes glisten as she reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “That’s wonderful news, Jenny. Trent deserves to be loved by someone as kind and genuine as you. Someone to look out for him while he’s looking out for everyone else.”
“But isn’t me falling in love with him a problem?” I say. “Our marriage, it’s only temporary. We’ve only been married a month or so now, but if I’m already feeling this way about him . . .” My heart clenches at my next thought. “How am I supposed to let him go in a year?”
Holly looks me in the eyes. “Tell Trent how you feel,” she says gently. “Odds are he’s feeling the same way you are. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Jenny. That’s not just for show. I’ve known Trent for a long time, and he’s not that great of an actor.”
I smile. No, no he’s not. In the short time I’ve known him, it’s clear that he wears his emotions on his sleeve.
Her words hang in the air, a glimmer of hope that I can’t quite grasp yet. Could it be possible that Trent might be falling for me too? The way he kisses me sure makes me think so, but neither of us has said anything specific. I know he is coming to care for me more than as a friend. But could it be love?
Holly stands, her energy brisk once more as she packs up the last of the treats. “These are on the house,” she says firmly.
“Oh, but I couldn’t possibly—”
Holly cuts off my protests with a wave of her hand. “Nonsense,” she says, “I offered. Now go pass those out and win those guys' hearts. I put an extra Sunrise Sin muffin in this bag for Trent.” She winks at me.
I smile and give her as tight of a hug as I can stand. I’m so lucky to have a friend in Holly. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders now that I’ve shared my thoughts and fears with her.
I leave the bakery with arms full of sweets and a heart full of peace. Telling Trent how I feel might take time—and maybe a few more Sunrise Sin muffins—but for now, this is a start.