Page 11 of Marry Me Tomorrow
Jenny had nodded. “I wouldn’t be who I am today without my grandpa Henry’s and grandma Cora’s love and support. They are everything to me.”
Her voice had been so resolute, so full of love and gratitude. The memory stirs something in me, momentarily cutting through the fog in my brain. Now, I look around at how this place has changed over the past few months. Where previously there were bills and mail piled up, there are now neat stacks of organized papers with little pink post-it notes, reminding me when something is due or what I need to focus on.
A faint, citrusy scent of a cleaner lingers in the air, a stark contrast to the usual musty smell of the office. The boxes of extra supplies that once threatened to topple over are gone, neatly stored in the reorganized supply closet. Though it’s still not showroom tidy, Jenny has created her own system. If you asked her for a Tanago hook or seven J-hooks, she’d flash you a confident grin and have them in your hands before you could finish asking.
Not only has my office received an overhaul, but the entire store practically sparkles. The items in the store have been moved into new locations and the customers are commenting on how much easier it is to find things.
I sit down at my desk and lean back. It’s the first time in a long while that I’ve felt like I wasn’t drowning in paperwork. I can finally enjoy my work without the administrative chaos hanging over me.
Well, except for the bigger anchor pulling me down. That clause may just be the death of me.
A soft knock on the door snaps me back to the present. Jenny stands in the doorway, her blonde ponytail slightly askew, concern flickering in her sapphire eyes. “Hey, boss. You okay? You didn’t seem yourself this morning.”
I want to brush her off, but the genuine worry in her voice gives me pause. “I’m fine,” I say.
She raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”
I hesitate, then sigh. “No. Not really.”
Jenny steps inside my office, sinking into the chair opposite me. “Alright, spill. What’s got you so grumpy?”
“It’s complicated,” I admit. “You ever have a problem that you couldn’t solve but you keep trying to think of a way to make it work? But then you remember that, oh yeah, you’re super busy and don’t have time to worry about things like that so you put it off. Only to be reminded that you still have a problem you need to solve?” Taking off my baseball cap, I run a hand through my hair before putting it back on.
“Every day,” Jenny says. “But I like solving problems. Why don’t you tell me, and maybe I can help?”
I laugh. “Yeah, I doubt that.”
Her posture stiffens slightly, and I curse my thoughtlessness. “Not because you couldn’t help,” I clarify quickly. “It’s just . . . delicate.”
Jenny’s gaze softens. “Well, Grandma Cora always said that keeping things in would darken your perspective on life and letting things out could open up a rainbow of opportunities. So just try me. For now, I’m not your employee—I’m your friend.”
I nod, a subtle wave of weariness washing over me. She sounds just like Henry sometimes—calm, steady, and always knowing how to coax a confession out of me. There’s an odd comfort in that, a familiarity that loosens the knot in my chest just enough to make talking feel possible.
Jenny sits across from me, her hands resting lightly on the arms of the chair, fingers tapping softly in a rhythmic, absent-minded way. She tilts her head slightly, her ponytail swaying as she waits patiently. There’s no pressure in her gaze, just quiet encouragement, like she’s saying: It’s okay. Take your time, because I’m here for you.
“Well,” I begin hesitantly, my voice carrying the weight of too many sleepless nights. “I love this marina. You know that.”
She nods, her expression open, her eyes steady on mine.
“And I had hoped that one day the marina ownership could pass on to me from my grandfather,” I continue, my words tinged with both pride and resignation.
Jenny’s brows knit together slightly. “I thought your parents owned the marina?”
“No.” I shake my head, the familiar frustration bubbling to the surface. “My grandfather owns it. But now he’s ready to pass the ownership on to me.”
Her confusion deepens as she leans forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. “I see. And this is . . . a bad thing?” Her genuine curiosity is almost enough to make me smile.
“No,” I say quickly, exhaling a sharp breath. “It’s what’s in the ownership contract that’s the problem.” I pause, rubbing the back of my neck as the words form, heavy on my tongue. “There is a marriage clause. It says the new owner has to be married when the ownership is transferred. If they’re not, they forfeit the right to own the marina, and it opens up to married family members that are interested in owning it.”
Jenny’s lips part in surprise, her eyes widening as she processes the information. “And marriage isn’t a possibility for you?” she asks. “I mean in the near future?”
“Not really,” I say.
“So, no girlfriend?” she asks.
I can’t help the laugh that escapes me, sharp and bitter. “Nope. Not unless you count the marina. I’ve given my whole life to this place. I don’t want to lose it, but this clause is . . .” I trail off, shaking my head as words fail me. “It’s causing me so many issues.”
“I see how that could be a problem,” she says softly. There’s no judgment in her tone, only understanding, and the compassion in her gaze feels like a lifeline I hadn’t known I needed.
