I don’t know what to say, so I stay quiet. I know plenty well that Everett can be a stubborn shit, but he seemed so concerned about making things work between all of us. Every time he talked about Jenny, it was with the kind of fond exasperation only a father can have. He so obviously wants to have a relationship with her again, and it seemed like they were both ready to try.
“I just…” Jenny trails off, shaking her head with a frown. “ It’s always the same. Dad gets final say and I get to clean up his mess. Whatever I do, it doesn’t matter.”
I hesitate before reaching out, not wanting to upset Jenny further. She looks down at my hand when I drape it over hers, my grip loose enough for her to pull away without any effort.
“It matters to me,” I say.
Her face flickers between hope and scorn, and she settles on scoffing at me. However, she doesn’t pull her hand away. That’s something.
“What, you trying to be my fucking mom, now?”
“I’m trying to be your friend,” I correct her. “I’m supposed to be here to help, right? I want to help.”
She scowls at me. Now she does pull her hand free, but it’s so she can grab a napkin and dab the tears off her cheeks.
“You’re supposed to be saving the ranch,” she tells me. “Listening to me cry isn’t part of your job description.”
I chuckle softly as I pass her another napkin. Most of what I’ve been doing here isn’t part of my job description, but that hasn’t stopped me. “Let me help, Jenny,” I say softly. “Just tell me what’s going on. Maybe an outside perspective will help you figure something out.”
She tenses up, wadding the napkin into a ball before sighing. An exhausted laugh falls from her lips, and she leans back in her chair, looking at me with red-rimmed, desolate eyes.
“I don’t know what to do anymore,” she confesses. “Dad is so exhausted and overwhelmed, but he won’t let anyone actually help him. He won’t even tell us what he needs help with, because he doesn’t want to look weak in front of anyone. He keeps talking about selling, but this place is all I have left of my mom.” Her breath hitches as her eyes trail to one of the pictures sitting on the mantle in the living room. “I already lost her. I don’t want to lose the place she helped build.”
My chest tightens in sympathy, my brows creasing in a frown. I can’t imagine having gone through so much as young as she did. I don’t think I’d still be standing.
She shakes her head, meeting my eyes again.
“Dad doesn’t realize it, but the ranch is the only thing keeping him going, too,” she says. “He needs this just as much as I do, and if he sells, he’s never going to forgive himself. He’s so scared of doing the wrong thing that he’s running right toward his fears.”
Is that what I’m doing, too? If it is, what am I running toward? I’m approaching the crossroads so quickly that I don’t even know what direction I’m veering toward.
I’m responsible for my own actions, and at the end of the day, so is Everett.
I may have no idea what decision I should make, but I know Everett well enough to know that Jenny’s right. While I can’t stop him from selling, I can do my best to drill it through his thick skull that he’s making the wrong decision.
“Listen, I know I’ve been shitty to you,” Jenny says, reaching out to grab my hand again, “but I’m asking for your help.”
I nod immediately, wrapping my fingers around hers and smiling. There’s the tiniest amount of hope on her face, and I decide here and now to do anything I can to make sure it’s not misplaced.
“Whatever you need,” I promise.
“In school, I remember you could talk anyone into anything,” she says. “There was a joke that you could sell solar energy to the sun.”
I chuckle at the reminder. In college, I almost only ever used that skill to convince professors to push a test back or curve grades, but it’s served me well over the years. I’ve managed to get so far in my career because I’m good at finding the right angle to talk to people.
If that’s all Jenny needs, I’ll do it in a heartbeat.
“Convince my dad not to sell.” Her voice trembles, desperation and hope bright in her eyes. “Convince him not to sell, and we’ll figure everything else out from there, okay?”
I squeeze Jenny’s fingers soothingly, a more honest smile spreading across my face. I may not know what to do about my own situation, but this I can handle.
“You got it,” I say, nodding firmly. “I’ll go talk to him. We’ll have everything sorted by dinnertime.”
Jenny laughs, raising her brows in surprise.
“Isn’t that a bit unrealistic?”
“I’ve always worked better on a deadline,” I say with a teasing chuckle.
