By: Donna Gum

Jenkins would have given in to despair long ago, living with his miser of a daughter. Mary Sue wanted him to sign over his wealth, which Jenkins refused.

He didn’t know what he would do without Amelia, his worker. Jenkins knew he’d fallen for the lovely woman and looked forward to the days Amelia came to take care of him in spite of the icy New Hampshire weather. He would rather sit down and visit with her as a friend.

Amelia always had a funny anecdote to share with him. Jenkins wished the shine in her eyes was because of him, but it was wishful thinking. He knew he alone felt the electric spark when she handed him his meds, although Jenkins’ imagination told him her hand lingered longer than it needed to. It doesn’t hurt to daydream, does it? 

Jenkins gazed at her long blonde curls. Amelia’s sensitive blue eyes spoke volumes. Jenkins would never tire of listening to her voice. Some called it a whiskey voice. Her laugh was contagious. Oh, who am I fooling? She doesn’t care for me. I’m playing a dirty old man. Amelia is almost half my age. 

Today, Amelia is quiet. No laughs or stories. She said little to Jenkins, and he hoped he hadn’t made her angry or uncomfortable. 

When it came near time for her to venture out to the cold weather, Amelia walked to him and lightly grasped his hand. Oh, my meds. But no, her soft hand held his as he’d dreamed she might someday. As Amelia waited for a response, she looked at Jenkins and, shaking, tried to pull her hand back. He would not let go, but enclosed her hand with both of his. Amelia’s soft blue eyes brimmed with tears as she leaned close for a kiss and his heart sang. Jenkins did not hasten the kiss, but prolonged it. 

 “I wish we could spend time alone,” Amelia said. 

 “Yes, why don’t we?” he asked. 

 “Because I would lose my job,” she said. “If only…“   

The sound of Mary Sue talking on the phone in the next room made Amelia jump back. Jenkins looked at her with gentle eyes.  

“Don’t be afraid. My family wants me here for my money. I refused to sign it over to them. I can do what I want,” he said.

Smiling, he put his daydream into words.

“Have you ever been to Hawaii?” he asked. 

A few days later, they implemented their clandestine plan during her next visit to lessen the unpleasant drama Mary Sue would cause if she found her father enjoyed a relationship.

After Amelia dusted his room, she smiled at him and winked as she removed some of his clothing from his drawers, tucking them into her tote bag. She had little fear of Mary Sue discovering the missing clothes since Amelia did his laundry.

She walked over to where Jenkins sat and bent to steal another kiss before leaving. Jenkins listened to her footsteps click toward the front door.

He heard his daughter speak in a rude manner to Amelia. 

“What are you doing?” Mary Sue asked.

He walked to the living room and saw Amelia standing still and pale.

“Did you clean his tub today?”

“Yes, I did, and I dusted as well,” said Amelia.

“One can never be too careful,” said Mary Sue.

“Oh, I agree. One can never be too careful,” Amelia said with a small curve of her lips.

Jenkins laughed and had to muffle the sound with a cough. 

Amelia and Jenkins could stand waiting through no longer than three weeks of preparation. The anticipation seemed unbearable. He put on his winter coat and told his daughter he needed some fresh air.

A day later, a report on the evening news flashed a silver alert in New Hampshire, informing the community a male senior citizen had gone missing. As is too often the case, the family believed they’d last seen him going for a walk in frigid temperatures. No one knew his whereabouts, and a foot of snow covered the ground.  

A year later, at a Hawaiian resort, Jenkins enjoyed sitting in a chair in the bright sunshine with a relaxing drink. After a ride on his sailboat with Amelia, he waited while she went to place their lunch orders for seafood.

Both had decided they wanted no more of the harsh, freezing New England winters. Jenkins had walked down the street, where Amelia waited with her warm vehicle. She’d packed his bags from where she’d sneaked his clothing out the door each visit, outfit by outfit. 

Now, Amelia walks to him on the warm sand, clad in a lovely bikini, and Jenkins thinks he has never felt so content.

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Donna Gum enjoys writing flash fiction in the Appalachian Mountains. Her recent fiction was published in the inaugural issue of Borderline Tales, CafeLit, Fifty Give or Take, and Flash Phantoms with upcoming publication in Freedom Fiction, among others.