Chapter 12

The sound of Jenna’s phone vibrating with notifications was a distraction as she surveyed the guys working around the bar. She’d been getting messages from Tanner ever since she ditched him at the fire station. He was rightfully confused, and all of his voicemails told her so. As the men pulled up scorched wood, Jenna checked her messages.

Message 1: “Hey Jenna, you ran out on me there. I know the guys aren’t exactly the audience we’d like to have, but I didn’t think it would warrant you ignoring me, again. Call me.”

When she didn’t reply, he’d waited a few hours before calling again.

Message 2: “You do realize that you came to my job, right? I don’t even know who started it. It’s all kind of a blur. Alright, call me. Let’s figure this out.”

“Let’s figure this out?” she asked herself, looking at her phone.

One of the workers Hannity had sent over interrupted her. “Yeah, while you figure that out, can you tell us where the nearest outlet is? And where’s the dumpster for dumping the demo trash?”

Jenna sighed as she walked the guys around the bar… again. She’d shown them a few times already. Not only were they not listening, it didn’t seem like they cared that much about what they were doing. She’d even caught a few guys pulling up floorboards that were completely undamaged. It was too much. Just as she was about to lose her temper and fire everyone, her father stepped into the bar with Mr. Hannity.

“Hey, boss,” one of the men shouted with a nod and slight wave.

“Get to work, fellas,” he told them. It was as if they had been stalling until he got there. They needed the word of Sean Hannity to do the work. It infuriated Jenna.

Paul walked behind the bar, clearing his throat to announce to the guys, “You’re done at five every day. Not a minute over. Envelopes with your name written on them will be given to you at the end of your shift for the day. Jenna, my office please.”

Jenna followed him away from the bar, unsure if she wanted to leave the group of workers unsupervised. Sitting behind the desk, Paul pulled out a wad of cash, a stack of envelopes and a list.

“Here’s a list of everyone on this job,” he sighed, handing everything to her. “Make out an envelope for everyone on that list. This money will cover the next four weeks, and if there’s still work left to be done then, we’ll do this again.”

Jenna stared at the list. There were about fifty names on it, and well over ten thousand dollars in the stack of money. “Dad, there’s only like six guys working out there. This is wrong.”

“This is what Mr. Hannity wants done, so this is what we’re doing,” he told her firmly.

“No,” she shook her head, “I’m not going to make under-the-table payments.”

“Do you hear yourself, Jenna? Just do what I’m asking you to do, dammit! This isn’t a game! This isn’t some movie or book or simulation for one of your classes! This is real life, and I have responsibilities that I’m obligated to come through on. Now either help me or leave! Because whether you like it or not, this is the situation I’m in and I can’t change it!”

Jenna took a deep breath before she quietly pulled a chair up to her dad’s desk. She split the money into piles, wrote the names from the list on the envelopes, and stuffed in the payments for the week. With her heart sinking, she did what she was asked silently and without protest. It made her feel like crap. She knew that she was part of the reason her dad was in this situation, and she knew there was nothing she could do about it. When she was done, she simply left him alone in the office and headed out to lunch. Hanging around The Wheel was becoming more and more difficult with every passing minute.

Jenna made it to the little cafe just as Hannah was arriving. Her pretty red curls were still braided down her back. She wore a bright yellow cardigan over a knee-length daisy print dress. It forced Jenna to look at herself: She was wearing denim jeans and motorcycle boots, matched with a skin-tight shirt that barely covered her up top.

“We don’t look like we should even know each other,” Jenna sighed, eyeing Hannah from head to toe.

“Relax,” she laughed, “you work in a bar and I work with teenagers, many of them guys. I’d wear what you have on in a heartbeat, but somehow that screams inappropriate.”

Jenna laughed. It was the first time she’d laughed all day. In fact, when she thought about it, she hadn’t laughed in days. Her world was in chaos and she didn’t know how it was going to turn around.

“Jenna!”

Snapping out of her thoughts, Jenna stared across the table at Hannah, who was motioning toward the waiter. “Order what you want, I’ll pick it up. You’ve been through enough.”

“Wow, is it that obvious?” she chuckled.

“Well, let’s run it down: stressing about your dad, the bar, your ex who you might or might not want to be your current, your ex’s ex who may or may not be his current, two fires, and a partridge in a pear tree,” she sang.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Speaking of exes, I brought by some cookies and stuff to the station to thank the guys and Tanner was there,” she said softly with a warmness flushing to her cheeks.

“What did you guys do in the firehouse?!? Did you slide down his pole?” Hannah giggled.

“My hand may have, but then the truck came back and it stopped. We were seconds away from finishing.” Jenna continued to blush.

Hannah tilted her head to the side, back and forth, as she questioned her friend. “So what do you want from Tanner?”

“I don’t know,” Jenna sighed. “A part of me wants us to give it another go, but then I still have to go to grad school. And he seems serious about his career too. I mean, I barged in on him studying for his lieutenant’s exam. Then there’s his thing with Brandy.”

Hannah listened to Jenna vent about Tanner and everything else that was bothering her, but at the end of it all she only had a few words of advice to give her friend. “Just have fun with Tanner, but tell him that. Don’t lead him on to think it’s going to be anything more than a summer fling. The thing with your dad and Hannity, I really think you should back off. Hannity is dangerous, and if your dad says he’s got it under control, then let him handle it.”

“What if he gets arrested?” Jenna felt tears welling up in her eyes. The soft touch of Hannah’s hand on top of hers was soothing, but it couldn’t calm her worries completely.

“Jenna, I’ve known your dad practically my whole life. I’m absolutely sure there’s something about this Hannity thing you don’t know. Trust him and try to stay out of it. I’m sure he’ll figure it out.”

“He said the same thing,” Jenna sighed. “But enough about me. What’s going on with you?”

“Wow, a conversation about me? I’d love to, but maybe next time. I gotta get back to work.” Hannah tossed some bills onto the table for the bill, and with a quick hug and kiss, the two friends went their separate ways.

Jenna imagined the group of guys working at The Wheel and decided to avoid them for the rest of the day. She headed home. She stood outside, on the front lawn, simply staring up at the house she grew up in. Memories of her parents teaching her to ride her bike in the driveway played like a drive-in movie.

Turning from the driveway to the porch, she smiled brightly. It was on that porch that Bobby Kissinger, who was in eighth grade, had pecked her on the lips one Halloween before dashing off into the night with his friends. She had taken her sixth-grade self into the house to tell her parents, whereupon Paul had chased after little Bobby with murder in his eyes, and her mother had simply smiled.

Looking up the street, she remembered waiting for Tanner’s old Chevy pickup to round the corner as he came to pick her up. It was rusty and uncomfortable, with torn leather seats, but it was their space. It was the same safe space where they had first told each other “I love you.” It was the same space where she had cried on Tanner’s shoulder for hours after finding out that her mother was sick. It was the same space where Tanner had proposed, and where she had said no. So many memories wrapped around her that she couldn’t help but let her tears fall.

Falling to her knees, Jenna finally let it all go, sobbing into the grass on a beautiful summer day. She was tired of being an image of someone strong when she felt like her world was crashing down. Tears stained her cheeks and her upper body shook as she curled into a ball and buried her face in her hands.

It felt like the wind engulfed her. But it wasn’t a strong breeze. Instead, the strength of Tanner’s body wrapping around her stopped her trembling. He didn’t ask any questions. He didn’t say anything at all. He simply sat behind her, hugging her tight, letting her cry into him just as he’d done before. Just as he’d always do. Jenna couldn’t help but turn around, crying and mumbling into his shoulder.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Tanner. I don’t know what else to do. Everything is wrong. I don’t know how to help my dad. I can’t pick a grad school. And I miss my mother. God, I miss her so much.”

He wouldn’t console her and tell her everything was going to be alright. He simply rubbed her back and whispered to her, “I know.”

It took her a while, but Jenna finally allowed him to bring her inside the house. He made her some tea before sitting across from her at the table. Jenna could barely make eye contact. Her puffy red eyes and throbbing head were enough to keep her silent.

“Jenna,” Tanner said her name so softly.

“Tanner, I know I’ve been ignoring your calls, but that’s only because I didn’t know what this thing is between us,” she admitted. “Hannah told me I should just have fun and let that be it. I shouldn’t get too involved because you’re not ready and you’re not the most mature guy to be with right before I leave for grad school.”

“Wow,” he smirked, “I’m so glad she told you exactly what she thinks. But we’re different. This is us.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Tanner leaned across the table, close to her. “We’re familiar. Our love is familiar. Our memories, our fights, even our kisses.”

“Nope! Gotta stop you there, our kisses are not that familiar. They have certainly improved over the last five, six years?” she laughed.

“That smile is familiar,” he told her sweetly. “Even your tears are.”

“That shouldn’t be,” she sighed.

“Jenna, you’ve been through a lot. You’re allowed to be screwed up. Your dad’s allowed to be screwed up. The business is allowed to be screwed up, but you can’t let it screw up the rest of your life. And you definitely can’t let it screw up our relationship. We work because there’s nothing for you to explain. I know why you’re hurting. I know why you’re being so tough. I know why you’re so confused about us. Even though I’m not.”

“I don’t want to get hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you. Tanner, this is too heavy for me right now. I just got done dealing with my dad and Hannity earlier. I had a freaking breakdown on my front lawn. My neighbors probably think I’m crazy.”

“So what!” Tanner threw his hands up. “Do you understand that I’ve been dating someone who’s driven me absolutely insane, multiple times? We’ve had disastrous blowups, like the one you saw at The Wheel, and I still went back to that. You can’t care about what other people think. Be crazy and don’t keep it bottled up.”

She watched him get up from the table. “Wait a minute, where are you going? You came here just to catch me crying on my front lawn?”

“No, I came here because you were ignoring my calls. But it’s okay. We can always talk whenever you want. If you feel like we should keep things between us casual, that’s okay with me too. If you want us to be completely platonic, that’s not going to be easy, but I’ll do whatever you want. I just don’t want us to stop talking like we did before. I forgot how much I like you in my life. I’ve missed you, Jen.”

“I’ve missed you too, Tan,” she mocked. It was a subtle dig at his nickname for her, a nickname she hated. Jen was always short for Jennifer, and that just wasn’t her name.

“I remember,” he smiled, kissing her on the forehead before leaving her in the kitchen, alone with her thoughts and tears. It was a place she hated to be. Cornered with memories and regrets, clouded with decisions yet to be made, and still the sorrow surging through her wasn’t enough to silence her mind back to normalcy. She just wanted it all to be quiet… still.

The sound of the door opening jarred her awake. A crease ran across her face from where she’d fallen asleep on her arm. Her neck ached as she sat up from the kitchen table. Paul walked in with a concerned look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Daddy,” she told him sleepily, “just a rough morning.”

“You mean day; it’s damn near nine o’clock,” he informed her. Running the back of his hand across her forehead, he let out an exhausted sigh. “You’re not really warm, but you look like crap. Maybe you should go lie down in your bed.”

“I will, Daddy.” She got up from the table, then paused. “But can I ask you something?”

“Anything, sweetie.”

She paused for a moment, hesitant to say anything. But she knew if she kept quiet, it would just nag at her. “How much money do you owe Mr. Hannity?”

“For goodness’ sake, Jenna. You’re as stubborn as a mule. Worse than a dog with a bone. Let me teach you something about life right now: Never ask how much something costs if you’re not ready to pay for it. I keep telling you to stop worrying, and just to prove it to you, plan yourself a birthday party.”

“What?”

“The bar will be done just in time for your 24th, and I want you to throw one of your parties. You won’t have to work it. Just pick a theme and have Hannah help me out planning and putting everything together. Don’t worry about the money. Don’t worry about Mr. Hannity. Do whatever you like. He’ll be out of our hair soon. I told you I’m taking care of it. I need you to trust me.” His eyes sunk and Jenna folded.

She didn’t argue. She didn’t fuss. She didn’t pester him with more questions. She let herself go to bed so that she could take in all that had transpired that day and let it go. It had been a tiresome rollercoaster ride for her emotions, but she was done with that ride. After plopping down onto her bed, she took only minutes to fall asleep again, picking up where she’d left off downstairs at the kitchen table.