by Ashlee Price
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Jenna apologized again. “It all happened so fast that I didn’t have time to—”
“Relax, Jenna, I’m not blaming you for this. If anything, this is all my fault. I should have never negotiated with you. I should have just made you leave.”
“Just leave, huh? Don’t unpack my stuff. Don’t even come to Doveport. Just hit the road to grad school, even though classes don’t start for at least another month or two.”
“Exactly,” he smiled, pulling her in under his arm. “I’ll have the place cleaned up and we’ll rebuild the bar. I know a few guys who could use the work. We’ll put in some new flooring over there. Maybe we can save those tables. I won’t know until we clean this stuff off of them.”
The sound of someone walking in behind them startled them both. Turning toward the door, they were disappointed by the broken-nosed face of Sean Hannity. He was the last person either of them wanted to see.
“Wow, what… a… mess,” he said, shaking his head. “How does my room look?”
“It’s fine, Mr. Hannity,” Jenna assured him.
Paul grew noticeably nervous as he pulled money from his pocket. Handing it to Jenna, he told her, “Jenna, run to the hardware store. Grab a gallon jug of de-greaser and whatever else we need to clean this stuff up.”
“But Dad—”
“Listen to your father, dear, and let us have a minute to talk,” Hannity told her.
Jenna didn’t like the idea, but she left anyway, texting Hannah to meet her at the hardware store. By the time she arrived, Hannah was already there with an uneasy expression on her face.
“What happened?” she asked as soon as Jenna was within earshot.
“I was playing with that stupid sparkler and left the door open. It caught on something and the entire bar went up!”
“Oh my goodness, are you okay?” she asked. Her raspy voice was scratchier than usual.
“I’m fine, but what’s going on with you? You sound terrible,” Jenna told her bluntly.
“Thanks,” Hannah laughed. “Nothing like yelling at a bunch of drunk coeds all night to screw up your vocal chords. Speaking of which, what happened to you last night? Why were you drinking, and if it was going to be your first time, why did you have to pick bourbon?”
Jenna gave her the same explanation she’d given Tanner. When she was done, Hannah didn’t have much to say.
“Are you really done with Tanner?” she asked her sincerely.
“I don’t know. I think so. It’s just, when I’m with him, he tells me, and shows me, how much Brandy doesn’t matter. I believe him—”
“You believe him until she shows up, talks crazy to you, and drives you to drink. Tell me what part of what I just said sounds like a good idea. In what world does that make you say, ‘Yes, I want to continue seeing this person’?”
“I know it’s crazy, but I think that I just need to get him out of my system once and for all. Then I’ll go off to grad school and forget about this crazy summer.”
“How’s that going, by the way? Find any places you want to go?”
“I got accepted to eight out of fifteen that I applied for. NYU and UCLA are out. I don’t think I want to live in New York or California. I want to be closer to home in case I need to get back here for an emergency.”
“I understand that, but don’t let that be your only determining factor. I love you to death, but your Dad’s right. Staying in Doveport isn’t necessarily the best decision when you have so many other options out there.”
“Well, you didn’t leave,” Jenna shot back, trying to take the heat off of herself.
“I didn’t want to leave. I never wanted to leave, and there was nothing that anyone could do or say to make me change my mind on that. You, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to get out of here, remember? Don’t lose that spirit of adventure. Besides, hanging around Doveport will only get you a job, probably a husband, and pregnant. And not necessarily in that order,” she laughed.
Jenna let Hannah’s wise words sit with her as they went through the store looking for the items her father needed to clean up the bar. They finished up, agreed to actually have their lunch date sometime, and went their separate ways.
There were a lot of decisions she needed to make, and soon. The window for her to confirm her enrollment was growing smaller with each passing day. While leaving Doveport was the only thing she’d wanted right after high school, it had taken only a few weeks of being home for that to change.
Seeing Sean Hannity’s car still in the parking lot as she pulled up to the bar only reinforced that. Leaving her father behind with that thug didn’t sit well with her. She wondered what they could possibly be talking about. This time she didn’t bother to eavesdrop; she walked straight into the bar.
Hannity was standing in front of Paul behind the bar.
“I got the stuff, Dad,” she announced as she walked up to them.
Paul seemed irritated and nervous. “Thanks. Just set it down and wait outside. Mr. Hannity, as it turns out, knows a few guys who are going to come in and do the work. At a discount.”
“That’s… great?” She eyed them both curiously.
“It is, dear,” Hannity nodded. “It’s a funny thing about fires. Another place I’m in business with recently had a small setback like this, and the insurance company paid for everything. I was just telling your dad here how much of a good idea it would be to have a decent amount of insurance on this bar. It would pay for the cost of hiring a professional contractor, so he wouldn’t have to rely on people who will do anything just to land a job. You should hire guys like the ones I employ to do this kind of work, Paul. The kind of people who will get the job done right the first time.”
Jenna shook her head. “Since we just had this happen, I doubt we could afford the premiums. I know business, and the business of insurance dictates that they charge you more after a catastrophe happens. You’re a higher risk to them. I think you should leave your policy as is, Dad, at least until we get our cash flow stabilized.”
“Well, aren’t you just a well of information,” Hannity replied snidely. “I wasn’t asking for your permission or your opinion. Leave the business talk to the grownups.”
“I don’t know who you think you are,” Jenna began furiously, “but if you’re talking to me, you’re going to get my opinion. And if you’re talking business, especially this one in particular, then you need to consider everything I have to say. I think I have more experience and knowledge about The Wheel than you do, Mr. Hannity.”
Paul stepped in before Jenna said anything that would insult Hannity any further. “Okay, let’s cool off a minute here. Jenna, relax. Sean is just a friend looking out for the best interests of the bar.”
“No,” he interjected, “I’m looking out for my interests in the bar. I have money tied up in this place, and if you two muck it up, there will be hell to pay. Paul, she’s right to worry about you, but you, young lady, need to be more mindful about whom you’re speaking to. I ain’t your father. Whether you want to believe it or not, the business I have with him has very little to do with you, and it’s in your best interest to keep it that way. Don’t piss me off. Paul, up the policy!”
Sean Hannity straightened his shirt, grabbed an envelope full of cash off the counter, and walked out of the bar.
“Dad, you can’t seriously consider doing what he just told you to do. I don’t trust him.”
“I would say I don’t either, but Sean has always been a man of his word. Good or bad, he does exactly what he says he’s going to do. I’m just going to make a few calls and see what the cost would be. Maybe I can negotiate like you and have him pay the difference,” he attempted to lighten the mood.
“He has his hands in too deep, Daddy.” Jenna sounded defeated.
Paul shook his head, staring around at the damage. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I already told you this bar is my business. How I do thing
s and who I do them with doesn’t concern you. So just let it go.”
“You keep telling me to let it go, but I can’t. Why on Earth would I let this go? I can’t just let you keep taking hit after hit! The Wheel is just as much mine as it is yours! Just let me help out. We can figure out a way to get Mr. Hannity out of here. I’m sorry that I even bargained with him in the first place.”
“That’s not your fault. He should never have been in this bar to begin with. But don’t worry, Jenna. One way or another, I’m going to figure everything out so you don’t have to worry about your old man. I promise.”
Jenna wanted to take his word for it, but Hannity didn’t seem like the type to let things go as easily as her father would like. Maybe she could bargain with him one last time, but it would have to be behind her father’s back. There was no way he’d want her anywhere near Hannity alone, but that was a chance Jenna was willing to take.
Chapter 11
Doveport was a place that Jenna had thought she’d always love. One that she could always call home. But as she gazed up and down the street outside of The Wheel, she felt it becoming less and less familiar. Her heart sank as she thought of all that could happen when she went off to grad school. Leaving her father in the hands of Sean Hannity just seemed out of the question. Calling the cops on someone of his character would be akin to an unwritten death sentence, and yet she still believed there was a chance she could change it all.
The scent of smoke and burning wood still lingered in the air. Her heart sank as the scope of the repair work was laid out. There weren’t enough parties in the world to cover those costs in time for the bar to reopen before she went away to grad school. Even with Hannity giving them a discount on the labor, paying for materials would set them back at least two months. They’d be right back to her pleading with RJ—Rick—not to cut the lights off.
The steady thumping of her heart against her chest made her head hurt and her ears ring. Anxiety washed over her, leaving her in a place of despair and hopelessness. Taking a deep breath, Jenna decided to get a hold of herself. She headed toward the main strip of shops in her town.
A new aroma filled her nostrils as she walked down the street… baked goods. Fresh baked goods. As she stepped inside the old bakery, Jenna’s eyes touched and tasted every item behind the glass case. The walls were lined with white subway tiles. Dark brown wooden shelves were placed a foot or two above the counter along the side and back walls. There was a space behind the shelved wall that undoubtedly housed the ovens and freezers for the shop. A long counter stretched from the glass case all the way to the rear wall. Flour seemed to coat every inch of it.
There was an old man placing a fresh pan of cinnamon rolls into the display case. He was barely tall enough to reach the open shelves lining the white-tiled walls. His rosy red cheeks sat underneath thin wire frames from which his crystal blue eyes stared at her longer than Jenna saw any reason for. But somehow she didn’t mind.
“My goodness, you’re her spitting image,” the man gasped.
“I’m sorry?” Jenna said, moving closer to him.
“No, my apologies.” He straightened his posture with a firm smile that accentuated his grey-and-white mustache. “You remind me of this young woman who would come in here long ago. She’d sit at that table in the corner with her little girl, who would always order…”
“A white hot chocolate.” Jenna completed the sentence for him with a shallow tear falling down her cheek. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t remembered this place until now.
“Yes, and nobody in that family would ever let you get a complete thought out,” he chuckled. “How’s Paul? I’m sorry, that’s a ridiculous question. I can only imagine how he must be doing. How are you? You’ve grown so much since those days.”
“I’m as good as can be. My father, well, he’s taking his time. I’m sorry, what’s your name again so I can tell him you asked about him?”
“Mr. Donner,” he nodded with a smile.
It could have been the heat of the shop, or the scent of cinnamon in the air, but she felt like Christmas standing there chatting with the old baker. She had fond memories of her mother taking her there every Friday afternoon for cookies and cocoa. She’d leave her job just to pick her up from school so they could spend the afternoon together. That had been years before her parents opened The Wheel. Trips to the bakery had fallen to the wayside as they skimped and crunched their budget to support a new business.
Jenna simply stood there inhaling the sweetness of baked cakes and memories. It made her smile.
“I remember this place too,” she told Mr. Donner. “My mother, she’d get these long cookies with a cream in the middle. They were delicious.”
“You remember the flavor or the color?” he asked.
“Strawberry, and I think the cookies were brown,” she said, glancing up to the ceiling as if there were a mental rolodex of thoughts taped to it.
“Ah yes, my chocolate-covered strawberry wafers. One of my classic bestsellers. Would you like a box?”
“You know what, Mr. Donner? Now that I’m here, I would like to put together a gift basket for the fire department. They’ve saved me more times than I can even believe in these past few weeks, and I think they deserve something special. What do you think they’ll like?”
“Well, I know a few of them, and they like the cupcakes, believe it or not,” he chuckled. “I can also toss in some cookies and a few Danishes and doughnuts. How does that sound?”
“That sounds great,” she grinned as she sat down at a table to wait for her order. “I’ll take a dozen of those wafers too.”
Jenna reminisced in the shop while Mr. Donner put her order together. Her mother’s laughter seemed to fill her ears. The place hadn’t changed much since they were last there. The small tables were clear and round, with doily tablecloths draped over them. She wondered how he managed to keep them so clean.
Mr. Donner came out from behind the counter. The old man appeared to shuffle across the floor rather than walk as he sat a small white china mug, in a saucer, on the table.
“A white hot chocolate, just how you like it, froggy milk as you used to call it,” he laughed. “On the house.”
Jenna couldn’t remember the drink as vividly as Mr. Donner, but she appreciated how sweet he was “Froggy milk?”
“Frothy,” he told her. “You liked to swirl the cocoa powder in the foam.”
That was all he said before shuffling back behind the counter. Jenna practically dipped her nose into the froth. Taking a stirrer, she swirled it around just like she had when she was eight.
Several sips and deep breaths later, Jenna was out of the bakery and making her way toward the firehouse. Worried as she’d been before, she now felt an overwhelming joy. The smile on her face was wide and bright by the time she stepped inside the station.
It was practically empty. The bay where the truck would normally sit was empty. She didn’t suppose the door would be left unlocked if they were all out, though, so she called out, “Hello? Is anyone here?”
She walked along a wall where hooks and gear hung. She didn’t want to touch anything, but she needed a place to set down her goodies, so she kept moving through the station. She pushed through a heavy grey door just behind the tall brass pole the firefighters would slide down. The flight of stairs was steep, and she took every step with caution.
The stairway opened into a vast entertainment space with couches, TVs and pool tables. There was a kitchen in one corner with a large table and a bunch of chairs. The door was partially cracked as Jenna approached it.
“Hello? Is anyone up here?” she called out again.
“Jenna!” Tanner peeked from behind the door with a raised eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”
“I come bearing gifts,” she smiled, holding up the box from the bakery. “Cupcakes and cookies, to be exact.”
“Wow, that’s generous of you,” he said, stepping out of th
e office.
She smiled, setting the box down on the table. “Well, you guys have done so much for me, you know, saving my life and all. Plus after what happened today, I really wanted to give you all something as a token of my appreciation. So why aren’t you out with the rest of them?”
“It’s not actually my shift yet. I came in a bit early because I wanted to pick the lieutenant’s brain for this exam I’m studying for, but they were on a call. Haven’t gotten back yet. So what happened today?” he asked, sitting on top of the table next to her.
“I set The Wheel on fire,” she replied bluntly.
“What?!? Are you alright? What happened?”
“Relax,” she reassured him, touching his hands softly. “I was cleaning up and there was a minor accident. I was able to put the fire out myself, but you guys still came to do a walk-through to make sure I got it all.”
“How bad is the damage?”
“A few thousand dollars’ worth. But apparently I’m not to worry about that because The Wheel isn’t my responsibility. I’m just supposed to pick a grad school and leave! Just leave Doveport knowing my dad’s going to be slaving away working off his debt to Hannity.”
“Sean Hannity?” Tanner was surprised. “Why would Mr. F do business with anyone like him? Doesn’t he realize how dangerous that can be?”
“I think he does, which is why he keeps trying to get me out of Doveport. I gotta tell you, though, I wasn’t too worried about Mr. Hannity until today. He was so nice when we first met. Now he wants Daddy to up his insurance policy in case something like this happens again. I don’t trust him.”
Tanner pulled her into the office and shut the door behind them. “Listen, I’ve heard his name tossed around a bit. I think you should back off and let your father handle him. He’s dangerous. I don’t want anything bad happening to you. You mean too much to me.”