by Jo Noelle
Chapter 8
Cole Zamora
Seal sits at Jenna’s feet during breakfast, diving for crumbs she drops to him now and again. Without acknowledging me, she says to Walter, “I’ll be done early. The reno on Apple Blossom is going really well. I just need to replace the windows in the screened porch upstairs, paint that room, and arrange the remaining furniture.”
My gut twists with the realization that she planned to leave this summer without even giving me a chance or a warning. Bare minimum—if we’re friends, she should tell me what’s going on in her life. Best friends deserve at least that. We didn’t start out as friends, but I thought we were now. Friends don’t hold hands and kiss.
I can’t blame everything on Jenna. I kept things from her too. I didn’t call her when my mom died, and that’s just as big. But this hurts.
I grab a couple of bagels and sit across the room at the breakfast bar, hoping to appear unconcerned. An ache down deep in my chest punches home the point that I have to give up imagining that even if Jenna won, I’d still be here with her to run the cottages. If I lose, I lose my home.
“Is there any reason to put off announcing the winner if we’re both done early?” Her gaze doesn’t even slide to mine.
I know it’s juvenile, but it seems like Jenna has everyone on her side. I heap a large dollop of cream cheese on a section of bagel and hold it near my knee. Seal rushes over to snag the tidbit. As I scratch him beneath his ears, he sits against my leg. At least there’s loyalty somewhere still.
She has no idea how close to finished Willow Cottage is or isn’t. I still have a few weeks to figure out why she didn’t tell us about her job. Part of me believes it was because she didn’t think our relationship had a future. I didn’t matter enough. Or she’s just running again. But part of my heart hopes that Jenna was unsure that she wanted to take the job, maybe because of our growing relationship.
Walter chews his sausage slowly, nodding his head. Don’t do it. Come on, Walter, hold out on the deadline. If the contest ends now, I lose my home and the closest thing to a father I’ve ever known along with my best friend and half of my heart. Give me a few more weeks to figure this out.
Jenna drops a chunk of scrambled egg to the floor. Though it doesn’t make a sound, Seal rushes to the spot, licking furiously before he settles next to her.
“No.” Walter pauses before answering completely. “No reason at all to wait. ’Cept I want to. I’ve got a few other goals in mind, so I won’t be announcing until the end of July. That’s the deal we started with, and I’m holding to it.”
Powerful relief floods through me. Thank you, Walter. He leaves the room, and the only sounds are Seal’s tail thumping on the floor and Jenna’s fork clicking against her plate.
I pat the top of my thigh. That’s all the invitation Seal needs to jump into my lap. If I don’t win and have to leave, he goes with me.
Seal spends the rest of the day trotting between me and Jenna as we move from cabin to cabin. He’s not allowed inside the cottages, so he lies around my work area or follows me along the paths while she’s out of sight. When he hears a cottage door shut, he sneaks over to find her.
She and I don’t spend time together for a break or lunch. We only exchange necessary words that pertain to our work, and even then, eye contact is limited. At the end of the day, Seal’s tuckered out from running back and forth between us and is sleeping on the rug by Walter’s kitchen sink.
I’ve been turning it over in my head all day. I knew it was likely that Jenna would push back from me at some point. Why am I surprised that it happened? She hasn’t dealt with her emotional baggage yet. It was an unrealistic goal, but I was really hoping it would happen, for Jenna to come back, make a one-eighty degree turn, and decide to start a relationship with me.
I can get back on my game plan. It will still work. This is just a temporary set back. Tomorrow will be a new start.
It’s after ten o’clock now as I climb to my room, and I still have to make time for homework. I’ve been working late and early every day this summer. Zombies probably have more energy than I do right now.
Luckily, the assignment needed to finish my degree fits the plans I’m making for Misty Harbor and the marketing contest Walter made up.
The growth-strategy paper that’s due tomorrow needs to be completed. Well, started. I have all the research, but I’ll be typing it up for several more hours.
The concept is simple. The people who vacation here are mostly from the fishing and hiking crowd, leaving times of the year when vacancy is high. My plan is to market to artistic groups to hold retreats here in the off-season. I’ll hire local artists in painting, photography, writing, or music to provide workshops. The guests will have lots of quiet time to work and improve their skills too.
Hopefully, some will want to book vacation stays later down the road. This contest is based on profit. The groups have to book and put down a deposit in order for me to win, and since there’s no expense yet, it’s all profit. That will hopefully make this my first win.
Five hours later, I’m done and slip into bed as the glowing numbers on the clock turn to three twenty-seven. Sleep doesn’t come—only thoughts of Jenna do. Did she know the boxes were coming? When would she have told me about Idaho, or would she have just left again? As soon as I think that question, it rephrases. Or would she have just left me again?
I don’t know why it surprised me that she’s built such strong walls. I guess I just thought I’d taken them all down.
I peek at the time again. Looks like it’s going to be a Red Bull breakfast tomorrow.
Between school, work, renovations, and contests, I’m exhausted. One more month. Whatever it will be—everything ends or starts with this summer.