29. Trent
Chapter 29
Trent
The next few days fly by in a blur of activity. Thanks to Margot and the football team, the marina reopens far sooner than I had dared hope. The volunteers had been gracious and endlessly grateful for the treats Jenny had handed out. Their enthusiasm and heartfelt thanks had brought a smile to her face—a smile I couldn’t help but admire every time I saw it. And while Jenny is taking time to recuperate, Mom and Dad have stepped in to keep the marina running smoothly.
By now, Jenny is nearly healed, though I’m keeping a close eye on her. She’s even feeling up to painting again, her energy and creativity returning like flowers in the springtime after a long, brutal winter.
Living in the studio apartment together has been effortless, like we were meant to share our lives more closely like this from the beginning. And waking up every morning with her in bed next to me brings me a sense of peace I can’t describe.
This morning is no exception. I wake up early, Jenny sleeping softly beside me. The familiar urge to fish tugs at me. For me, fishing isn’t about the catch—it is about the stillness, the chance to think without distractions from the hustle and bustle of life getting in the way. And after the last few weeks, I could use the calm. Besides, it has been far too long since I’ve joined Henry for one of our quiet mornings by the water. With the marina open again, I know he’ll be there. I quietly slip out of bed and tiptoe down the stairs.
When I spot Henry seated at the dock, his tackle box open and his weathered fishing rod in hand, I can’t help but grin.
“Good morning, Trent, my boy,” Henry greets me with a wave, his face lighting up.
“Good morning, Henry,” I reply, holding up my fishing rod and tackle box. “Thought I’d join you today.”
Henry pats the bench beside him, and I settle in with a contented sigh. These benches were one of my better ideas back when I first took over the marina. I’d noticed older fishermen struggling to sit on the docks or bring their own chairs, so I’d had sturdy benches installed. Seeing them in use always gives me a small sense of satisfaction.
The lake stretches out before Henry and me, it's surface glittering under the early morning sunlight. The air is crisp, carrying the faint scent of fish and the earthy scent of damp wood. Nearby, the soft rustling of reeds and the occasional splash of a jumping fish break the silence, blending seamlessly with the gentle lapping of the water against the shore.
We sit in comfortable silence, casting our lines and watching the ripples on the water. The quiet is calming, a reprieve from the chaos of the last few weeks. “How’ve you been since the tornado?” Henry asks, his voice breaking the quiet as he reels in and recasts his line.
“Fine,” I say, adjusting my grip on my rod. “The help we got made a huge difference. The marina’s getting busier again now that it’s back open, and Jenny’s pretty much back to normal. She’s even painting now that she’s no longer in pain.”
Henry nods, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Good. I was so worried about her. I don’t think I ever thanked you for taking care of her. It means the world to me, knowing she has someone like you to love and care for her.”
“I’m relieved she’s okay too,” I admit, my chest tightening at the memory of Jenny after the tornado.
Henry glances at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So, do you have plans to move back into your house soon? Or are you still staying above the marina shop?”
“Who knows when the repairs on the house will be done,” I say. “We’ll be in the studio apartment until then, but it works for us.”
Henry waggles his eyebrows. “Nothing like close quarters for newlyweds, eh?”
My face heats, and I remove my cap, running a hand through my hair. Henry has a knack for saying things as he sees them, consequences be damned.
Before I can respond, Jenny’s voice carries across the grass. “Hi, Grandpa!” she calls, walking toward us with a warm smile.
“Hi, sweet pea! How’s my favorite granddaughter?” Henry replies, his grin widening.
“I’m your only granddaughter,” Jenny says, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t also be my favorite,” he quips.
Jenny rolls her eyes but gives him a hug.
We settle into a comfortable rhythm, the three of us enjoying the quiet morning, surrounded by the sights and sounds of the lake. We talk about the marina, the plans we have for our house, and Henry’s fun-filled schedule at the care center. I could have stayed there for hours, but my phone buzzes in my pocket.
“Here, Jenny, take this for a minute?” I say, handing her my fishing pole.
She nods, taking my pole as I pull out my phone. Seeing my mom’s name on the screen, I quickly answer.
“Hi, Mom.” I say.
“Oh, Trenton,” she says, her voice trembling with emotion.
My stomach drops. “Mom, what’s wrong?” Jenny and Henry both turn and look at me.
“It’s your grandfather,” she says, her words catching on a sob. “He’s in the hospital. He had a heart attack, Trent.”
I grip the phone tightly, my heart pounding. “Is he. . . is he okay?”
“We’re on our way there now,” she says. “The doctor called us. They’re doing some tests now.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I say, hanging up.
“Trent,” Jenny says, her voice gentle, “what is it?”
“It’s my grandfather,” I say, my throat tight. “He had a heart attack.”
Jenny immediately sets the fishing pole aside and comes to me, wrapping her arms around me. I stand there, numb, as my thoughts spiral. My grandfather is one of the toughest men I know, and the thought of losing him is unimaginable.
“I need to get to the hospital,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Mom and Dad are already on their way.”
“Of course,” Jenny says, her voice calm and reassuring. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Someone needs to cover the marina. I don’t think Greg will be in for another few hours.”
Jenny nods, then reaches up on tiptoe to kiss my cheek.
“Will you be alright?” I ask her. “I just need to see him, see what the doctors say, make sure he’s alright.”
“I’ll be fine,” she says. “Go. And text me as soon as you know more.”
I give her a brief nod, wave goodbye to Henry, and head to my truck. As I drive toward the hospital, my mind races. The thought of losing Grandfather feels like the ground shifting beneath me.