His Wet Nurse

Gut feeling (45)

"You think I'm being paranoid?" Jema scoffed. "I have good reasons to believe Hartwood isn't safe for you guys anymore gran-gran. But I'm low on funds right now, when I get my next paycheck I'll rent you and Grandpa a nice house here in the city." She waited while the person on the other end of the phone spoke. She was on the train back to the city a day after the funeral. She'd sat through the tedious ride thinking back to the events surrounding Jacob's death and the current money laundering scandal which only seemed to be getting stronger. She'd woken to an unexpected email from Officer Murray asking for a word with her and she instantly knew it was just the beginning.

Even as her guts told her it wasn't safe for her grandparents back home she couldn't do anything for now, the funeral preparations had taken up most of her savings. "I know you like your farm and the people there gran-gran, it's not going to be easy to leave but please think about it, you and Grandpa. When I return next time I promise to tell you both everything. For now just... trust me okay?"

It was hard convincing old people who had spent their whole lives in a particular area to up and leave. Adjusting to a new life wasn't their best skill, but she had to or risk exposing them to the dangers of whatever Jacob had left behind.

She sighed in relief when their train got to her destination, Jema snatched her travel bag alongside her purse and headed through the terminal to wait along the road for her car. Otis had texted her a few hours before her arrival that he'd be pleased to pick her up from the station since Theodore was away on a sudden trip to Moscow.

Every form of giddiness she once felt at the prospect of seeing him again dissipated. Left in its wake was longing, strong, and daunting. The way he'd stared at her when she told him she'd be leaving for Hartwood like he couldn't bear to let her out of his sight for even a minute. She saw the tiny frown on his face when his lips thinned but he hadn't said much; rather he'd stood from his chair at the foot of the table and placed a tender kiss on her cheek. A quiet form of affection, it spoke more than his words would've ever done.

Jema smiled to herself amidst the burbly crowd, caring little about what passersby might think of her smiling into the air. A familiar horn tore her from her afternoon daze, Otis hurried out of the tiny Volkswagen with an exasperated look.

The scene threw her back to the beginning, a deja vu feeling of the moment when he'd picked her up just like this, she'd thought she was back in the eighties when he rolled up.

"Ms. Jema, I apologize for the delay. The car broke down on the way." He hissed under his breath. Otis wasn't one to fuss about even the most difficult things but seeing him all worked up surprised Jema. She allowed him to take her bag with him and tuck it into the trunk.

"Careful," she warned when he struggled with it for a while.
"Yes ma'am." He wiped his palms and headed for the driver's side. Jema sat behind and watched him start the car.

"Have you spoken to Fiona since she left?" Jema suddenly tore through the silence. Maybe the frustrations of heartbreak were behind his salty mood. Ever since Fiona left him, he's recoiled into his shell. Jema took notice of changes like that but had no time to address them, she'd been pretty occupied herself.

Otis kept silent, rather he drove faster like he needed to get her home and avoid answering her questions. "I know how hard it can be Otis, I mean I just returned from burying my husband a few feet away from my parent's grave. Sad isn't it?"

She saw his shoulders relax and the car speed settled into the usual. "I'm sorry, I had no idea."

"It's okay, you'd think after registering all these losses it gets easier... heartbreak feels the same."