“And that means you’ll stop loving and caring for your parents?” Jamie asked.
“Of course not. But Uncle Jamie, they think I’m crazy.”
“It’s going to be fine,” Jenna said. “Your mom knows that you called me, right?”
Elyssa nodded. “I seem to have the gift. My mom doesn’t, so she’ll never understand.”
“Some people never do,” Jenna said. “But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. So what we’re going to do is this. You’ll say you can’t help but be concerned and worried. And I’ll say that Sam and I have come because we’ve realized just how long it’s been since we’ve been back here, so why not check out this situation for you. How’s that?”
She looked at Jamie and Elyssa.
“Omission in itself can be a lie,” her uncle said. “But, okay, it’s not a lie.”
The admission came just in time, as the doorbell rang. They could hear the door open and Sam’s deep voice as he introduced himself to Susan and Matt Adair, Elyssa’s parents.
“Jenna,” Susan Adair said, hurrying across the room with a huge hug. “Have you had a chance to speak with Elyssa? You’ve explained that, while it’s sad and tragic, poor Mr. Bradbury took his own life. All I think about are his children. This will be so hard for them.”
“Not to worry,” Jenna said. “We’ve assured Elyssa that we’ll look into it all and that she needs to worry about school and midterms.”
Sam laid his hands on Jenna’s shoulders. “It never hurts to be thorough. That’s what the bureau is all about. But Jenna is right. Elyssa doesn’t have to worry or be concerned about a thing.”
“See,” Susan said, turning to her daughter triumphantly. “That’s all good.”
Matt Adair had been hovering by the door, watching the reunion. He was fit––an athletic man, coaching football at the local high school. They were quite the odd couple. Susan, Irish-looking with carrot red hair and amber eyes, a ball of fire and energy. Matt, except for when he was on the football field, a model of quiet and calm.
He greeted Jenna with a hug, then said, “I never like to say there’s nothing to worry about.”