I watch her come alive in a way I've never seen. This is her element. She remembers guest preferences, anticipates problems before they happen, and has ideas for improvements that are practical and creative.
“We could convert the old storage shed into a yoga studio,” she says while we’re walking the property. “Nothing fancy. Just clean it out, add some windows, and get good mats. Morning yoga with a view of the lake.”
Mrs. Avery beams. “I always wanted to do that but never got around to it.”
“We'll do it,” I say, making a note. “What else?”
Jennifer's list grows: Better signage on the trails, kayak rentals, and monthly wellness weekends with visiting instructors.
“You're a natural at this,” Mrs. Avery tells her. “I knew it the day I hired you. You care about people, and that's what hospitality really is.”
That night, back at our cabin, Jennifer curls against me on the couch. “Thank you for this. I never thought I could do this or would want to, but I wake up every morning and pinch myself.”
“Hey, no damaging the goods,” I tease and receive a poke in the ribs for that.
“Jennifer, you’re a natural. You just needed the opportunity.”
She smiles. “Coming from you that is high praise.”
“All deserved. I’m not in the business of sugar-coating things or coddling anyone.”
Sighing, she rubs her cheek on my chest. “I am slightly terrified,” she admits. “What if I mess it up?”
“Then we'll fix it. Together.” I kiss the top of her head. “That's what partners do.”
***
A week later, we drive into town to sign the final paperwork with the lawyers.
The conference room is sterile and professional, nothing like the cabin or the resort. When we sign our names on the sales forms, Jennifer's hand trembles.
“It's real,” she whispers.
“It's real.”
We have dinner at a local restaurant to celebrate. Nothing fancy, grilled salmon and salad, but Jennifer is glowing.
“I called my mom yesterday,” she says. “I told her about the resort.” She fidgets in her seat, pushing her salad around. “And about us.”
“That must have been quite the phone call.”
Jennifer giggles. “She thought I was joking at first. It actually took over five minutes to convince her I wasn’t pulling her leg about not only having a serious boyfriend who’s a tech genius but that we’re also buying the resort I work at together.”
“I don’t see what’s so far-fetched about that. Doesn’t she realize how amazing her daughter is?”
She tosses her napkin at me. “Oh, stop.”
We eat in silence for a moment. Then she says, “She wants to meet you. We’re invited to dinner at her house next Friday.”
Meeting her mother. The thought should terrify me, but it doesn't. “I'd like that.”
“Fair warning: she's going to give you the protective mom speech.”
“I can handle it. I'll bring the binder.”
Jennifer laughs so hard she snorts, and I grin like a fool, so happy to be living in the moment and enjoying life.
Seven weeks ago I arrived at the cabin barely able to sleep, blood pressure through the roof, and working myself to death. Now I'm waking up naturally, well-rested, and next to the woman I love.
