He doesn’t have much of a choice does he?
Janeen, when she doesn’t take a lunch shift at the club, hangs out with my dad. Together they keep me fed and hold back my hair when I need to barf. They watch me, and I can tell they’re worried, but they don’t interfere. Ivan drops in a couple of times a week and Janeen and dad are always kind to him, though Daniel and Jerome are predictably cold – as they’ve been instructed to be.
Also as requested, Janeen sticks close to my side when Ivan visits, not giving us time alone. Ivan just smiles at me like he knows what I’m doing, but he shrugs it off, giving me my space, letting me know by the way that he looks at me that he’s willing to be patient.
But what he doesn’t know is that I’m counting on that patience. And that eventually, I intend for it to pay off. That it’s actually a very important part of my plan.
But even as Ivan is the one with an agenda, Jerome is the one who surprises me. He mostly hangs out with me at the table every day, passively reading newspapers and magazines, fending calls and texts from Daniel and passing me messages when Daniel asks him to. But I take his passive patience as one of his talents – after all, Kent trained him for years to sit quietly while he waited for commands.
But one day, about two weeks into our month-long timeline, as I’m leaning over a map of the local highway system, Jerome’s finger suddenly appears in front of me, tapping the map.
“This isn’t going to work,” he murmurs, his voice sure and kind.
I look up at him in surprise. “What?”
Jerome looks at me evenly and shakes his head. “I see what you’re thinking here. It’s smart – but you’re not seeing…this.” And then he traces his finger along the map to point at an intersection that…well, he’s right. I absolutely didn’t see that – and it ruins all of my plans.
“Yeah,” he says, giving me a final squeeze before releasing me. “I think that it’s…a very Fay plan, which means that not many people are going to see it coming. Of course, it all hinges on…”
“I know,” I reply, my face going a little pale. “But…I can do it, Jerome.”
“You can,” he says, giving a little shrug. “But you shouldn’t, Fay.” He puts a hand on my cheek and looks at me with sad eyes, shaking his head at me. “You should let me do it for you.”
“No,” I say, instant, shaking my head and looking back at him. “That part…that part’s my responsibility. Mine alone.”
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