KC and Oona gently pried themselves from the children’s embraces and retired to the privacy of the study. There they settled down. Within moments, KC had a good fire built in the fieldstone hearth. Well, so far, so good. She regarded Oona who looked stunningly beautiful in the soft and flickering light. KC recalled Oona’s former lifestyle – the Oona she knew back in Virginia: the witch and mystic, the medium, the seer of ghosts and spirits, and the licensed ontologist with an immensely successful practice; the free-spirit and the woman who could never get enough. And now Oona Neeci was a house nanny for Louis, Thankful, and Charley. How could I ever have agreed to such a thing? Could harm come to her children while under Oona’s care? Could close relationships with each child carry risks? And for how long would Oona even take her new job seriously? How long before the woman simply grew bored, or careless, or even reckless? How effective would Oona really be with the day to day tasks of managing a whole family, herself included? So far, so good? Truthfully, KC was not so sure. She loved Oona to death and was deeply grateful for her willingness to drop her life down south to come and help her during those darkest hours of loss and despair. But how would – how could – things work out in the longer run? She had no idea, really, and already there were these doubts, and still less than two weeks since her husband’s death.
There was one thing KC feared most. She had no doubt that Oona would be a great teacher to her children. But what would Oona teach them? Would it be all good; or maybe both good and bad? There could be Witchcraft and mysticism mixed with some Latin and French. There’d be societal skills and European etiquette, alongside spells and skills of seduction. Or it could be all bad. KC rued not having considered this beforehand. And clearly KC should have thought of these things before she opened her home to the exceptional and alluring woman.
There across the room, Oona sipped her Merlot in quiet comfort. Not a spoken word passed between them. Her resettlement in Westbridge came relatively easy, as almost all the things in life had been for her so far, she thought. Money was certainly not an issue at all. There was plenty of that to start. Her savings and investments, half of her father’s fortune, it was all there. And now, already, there were promises of Harvard honorariums and research grants for the taking. Oh yes, there was plenty of money to start her young life anew. Oona effortlessly found comfort at this new place: her new home with her new office. She would be wildly successful just with her name, and she would rather quickly offer Westbridge and the surrounding area significant gratis and pro bono work. Her mission driven psyche was fully committed to helping others, and especially the struggling Haitians in the nearby communities, cope with negativity and understanding life’s purpose. There were Cape Verdeans as well and other people, mostly newer immigrants, who needed answers to their most pressing problems, who needed help with uncovering their hidden potential. Yes, Oona would enthusiastically continue the tradition of her Virginia practice and serve the underserved: the desperate, the destitute, and the indigent; without reservation. And here in southeastern Massachusetts, sandwiched between old factory towns of the Industrial Revolution, there was plenty to keep her busy in that regard.
Obviously and for some period of time, Oona needed to return to Virginia. She needed to wind down and ultimately shut down her practice there; basically shut down her life there to conclude the major relocation of herself and her business. She would say her goodbyes to her friends and lovers, to her many acquaintances, her business and professional relationships, and also the few distant blood relatives who lived in the DC area. Yes, Oona would do whatever else she needed to do there over the next few weeks. And here in Westbridge, Mass her professional ontology practice would start anew. Of that she had no doubt.
On the social side of things, Oona’s old Harvard haunts were mostly still there, along with a few new places she would check out. There would be plenty of adventures and trysts galore, anything she desired, as usual. But Oona needed to prioritize her duties, and tend to her serious housekeeping obligations at the new residence. And with all these things she would not leave KC disappointed. Privately Oona preferred a less rural setting. It was clearly not a place of business, unless of course one was a nanny. Oona would not rush anything; and for KC’s affections she would also remain patient.
Once things settled down for the night Oona drove into Boston to find fast and furious relief for herself. She was hopelessly bored with the self-maintenance since she arrived in Westbridge. She craved another body, or two, beside her. Yes, very soon. Still Oona starved for KC. How she truly wanted to serve her and be served by her; to pleasure her and be pleased by her.