Hearts Under Fire

Chapter 3 - Would you give it to me? - Part 2

“Well, my dear cousin, I’m impressed,” smiled Martina. “I have to say that you’re an extraordinary, amazing woman. And only thirty! I hope I’ll be so accomplished by the time I’m your age.”

“Thanks, Marti. But you know, I never would’ve made it without you.”

“Haha, thanks for saying that, but we both know I didn’t do anything.”

“Believe me, Marti. When you came here, it was such a relief,” Jenny said, seriously. “I still remember the stress of my first months. I spent all my time here! And when I finally closed down for the night, after restocking the shop … well, I just didn’t have the energy or even the desire to do anything else but sleep.”

“Yeah, you told me all the time you were losing control of your life.”

“Exactly. I wanna succeed as a businesswoman, but not at that price.”

Jenny thought back to those days, how stressed she’d been trying to make that decision. How could she hire someone she didn’t know? How could she trust a stranger with her shop? She knew her innate sense of distrust was a big problem. And it went even deeper than that—she felt so ill at ease when she thought someone was fooling her: everyone hates being fooled, but when it’s just the impression of being fooled that creates a real problem with others, she had to admit that was her fault.

When she suspected a person of that, something snapped inside her. She lost spontaneity. Doubts put dark intentions behind that person’s every action. And if the doubt persisted even after her secret investigations, she had no qualms about telling the person what she thought up front.

She acted this way to prove that she wasn’t dumb. She couldn’t stand the idea that someone thought of her like that: whether the deception was real or not became of secondary importance at that point, given that she could no longer be at peace.

If her suspicion had no foundation, she apologized. Charm and friendliness always made ​​her apologies effective. Even superfluous, sometimes. If she were right, the relationship with the person would be irreparably damaged, since she was the kind of a person who couldn’t forget. She’d never give a second chance in this department.

To manage her business with this state of mind was quite complicated.

She’d never dreamed her boutique shop would be such a hit right away. She was excited for that, but after two months of running the shop alone, she’d come to the end of her rope. She needed to employ somebody, but she loathed the idea of letting a stranger manage her business. Her fear was that if she wasn’t at the shop, the salesgirl would steal some merchandise, sell items without giving a receipt and pocket the money, or be lazy in dealing with the customers, since she would be paid anyway. That’s why it took her five months to find the right person.

At that time, Martina had just graduated from high school. When she learned about Jenny’s situation, she thought about working for her, since she really wasn’t ready to jump straight into college. Plus she felt incredibly close to Jenny, despite eight years’ difference in age: she’d had a bad break-up at thirteen, and Jenny was the one who’d helped her move on. They had bonded through the experience. Then their paths split when Jenny left to study at university, getting her degree in Economics and Commerce. They were only able to meet at communions, weddings, and during the Christmas holidays, but Martina never forgot that Jenny was there for her when she needed a shoulder to cry on.

Now they’d been together at Youth for three and a half years. Still going strong. Jenny opened and closed the shop. She was very strict about the opening time. She felt her position as a responsibility, not as a privilege to sleep half an hour longer. She usually stayed there in the morning—unless she had errands to do—and went back at night to close down the register, and count the day’s earnings.

Martina, aware of Jenny’s mistrustful side, knew how to behave. She knew what to do, but most importantly, what not to do in order to stay on good terms with her. And, as the clever girl she was, never confused the roles: Jenny was her cousin in blood and sister in spirit, but also the shop’s owner where she was just an employee.

“That’s why you kept staring at the Chinese family packing their stuff last Saturday!” Martina realized.

“We could say they left at the right time, haha.”

“So you’re lucky too.”

“I guess I am. You know, Marti. I regret that I never tried their restaurant.”

“I went there once.”

“Did you?” Jenny asked, surprised.

“Uh huh.”

“Well? How was it?”

“I’m afraid Chinese food is not for me,” Martina sighed.

Jenny had learned about the local Chinese restaurant going to bankrupt when she saw the owners leave Marzarotti’s unit: in fact, they’d used it as a pantry—and also as a dormitory for some homeless countrymen of theirs—for a couple of years.

That was the moment when Jenny decided to contact Marzarotti. The idea of having all her merchandise right there, ten feet above her head, had quickly and morbidly taken root into her mind. She could already see an opening in the ceiling and a stairway against the back wall connecting the two units. Here was her great plan! And the fact that she had almost paid her father back made it possible. She could cry with joy just thinking about the day she could stop going back and forth to the garage.