Jorja & Malcolm (Toffee Kisses Book 1)

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Jorja & Malcolm (Toffee Kisses Book 1) Page 11

by Shelley Siddall


  Cydney patted her friend’s hand. “I know Parmella and you are a wonderful Sister to arrange all this.”

  “Cydney, you’re wonderful! I know you’ve helped other young women get on their feet again, but have you ever helped someone with Celiac disease?”

  “No. But the bigger issue is seven months pregnant. I’ve helped other women, some as late as their second trimester; but they quickly had arrangements in place for the birth and where to live afterwards. Is the Father in the picture?”

  Parmella frowned. “Not yet. His parents want him to graduate and then get a job and then think about marriage. I’ve told Surinder, forget it, you don’t have to marry the guy just because he got you pregnant!”

  “True, but even then, he will have to pay child support.”

  “It’s a messy situation. Surinder just wanted him to walk away and sign away his rights as a parent, but I told her, you can’t make a bargain like that! It’s the child’s right to be supported!”

  “So, the plan is that you’ll stay over the week or so before her due date?” Cydney asked.

  “Keep feeding me muffins and I’ll do anything!” Parmella joked. “Yes, one of those suitcases is full of my clothes and toiletries.” She looked at her watch. “Guess we better head to the terminal, I imagine Surinder will need help dragging her luggage off the ferry; my parents refused to come over with her and help her settle in.”

  Cydney shook her head sadly and tidied up the kitchen. She grabbed her keys and gave Parmella a quick hug. “They’ll come around eventually; believe me, they always do when they see their grandchild.”

  ***

  Jesse could not believe what he was seeing. His Jorja, his too short Jorja, was walking in the flower shop! And she was wearing some kind of geometric dress with chunky jewellery. Ah well, he would improve her fashion sense.

  “Excuse the shoulder pads,” Jorja said as she twisted the bangle on her right wrist.

  “My darling Jorja!” Jesse said. He swooped to the front of the counter and put his arm around her. “What is happening to your face?” he asked suspiciously.

  “I’m having a physical reaction; my teeth actually hurt.”

  Jesse tapped her on the nose and bent down and stared at Jorja’s clenched teeth.

  “Implants. I told you, implants are the way to go!” He leaned closer. “Your upper dentition is quite good and it appears that you’ve retained your primary molars in your lower jaw; perhaps you’re having a mandibular spasm?”

  Jorja attempted to smile. “Flowers and Dentistry! You’re a man of many talents.” She twisted the bangle again. “And lest we forget, climbing tall buildings in the middle of the night!”

  Jesse grabbed Jorja’s hand and pulled the bracelet off her wrist. “What is up with this?” he demanded.

  In imitation of her Mother, Jorja smoothed her eyebrows. “I don’t think Ian Fleming would ever have written about me and my attempts at subterfuge,” she muttered.

  Outside, in a van parked no more than 100 meters away, two police officers groaned in unison.

  “Oh it’s a transmitter!” Jesse exclaimed, popping open the cover at the back of the bracelet. He smirked down at Jorja. “It’s not a very good one, Jorja and I know my wireless devices.”

  He gave the bracelet back to her and added contemptuously, “If you are going to count your steps, why not use an app on your phone? This, even as jewelry, is pretty tacky.”

  “Flattery will get you nowhere. And please, stop trying,” Jorja said.

  Jesse poked Jorja’s forehead. “Now those frown lines are not flattering in the least. Have you considered my proposal?” he asked.

  Jorja suddenly yelled, “No! Never in a million years!” She leaned on the counter and put her head in her hands. “Guys, I just can’t do this,” she said into her bracelet.

  Jesse moved the potted plant away from Jorja. “Talking to the flowers is not going to help you! Let’s get real here, Jorja. Quite frankly, you need Botox. I’m offering to help finance anything you need and you should take me up on my offer! The work you need could easily run into the thousands!”

  Jorja stood up straight. “I am curious,” she said, “How much do you think you’ll get for that ant you took the other night?”

  In the van outside, the two policemen also sat up straighter.

  Jesse patted Jorja’s hand, “Oh we don’t need to talk finances. What brought you over here today?

  “I was just out walking my rat and seemed to have lost my way.”

  “Did you come to apologize on behalf of your Father?” Jesse asked.

  Though his comment made her furious, Jorja stuck to the task at hand by asking, “Seriously, Jesse, what are you going to get for that ant? I mean, you’ll have to take it to the mainland because nobody has money here, and then, what, put an ad on Craig’s list for art collectors and hang around in a motel until someone shows up?”

  Jesse patted the top of Jorja’s head. “I have a local fence, darling, unloading the Escher will be a simple matter of a phone call!”

  Jorja stood up on her tippy toes and hollered, “Enough with the poking and patting! What am I, the Pillsbury dough boy?”

  Jesse waggled his finger in front of her. “You better get used to it, sweetheart, this is nothing compared to the needle pokes in your future!”

  “The ant, Jesse, the ant!” Jorja yelled. “What will you get; ten percent of the value?”

  “That sounds about right. But, like I said, don’t worry about the finances. I also picked up some really nice jewelry from the apartment below and Bernie should be able to move that pretty fast.”

  “Who in the blue blazes is Bernie?”

  Jesse started to poke Jorja in the forehead, but the crazy look in her eye caused him to stop mid-poke. He looked at his finger and decided to put it under his armpit. “My fence!” he said exasperated.

  Jorja crossed her arms. “I don’t believe you for a minute,” she said, “that’s just gangster movie talk. You don’t have a fence on this little island!”

  “Do too!”

  “Do not! This so-called Bernie, where are they; in your imagination?”

  Jesse laughed smugly. “My darling Jorja, you’ve met Bernie many many times!”

  “Have not! You’re full of beans!”

  Jesse slammed his hand down on the counter. “Ha! She’s the waitress at the Bistro where you and that bald-headed Nurse go!”

  Inside the van the two men applauded wildly.

  Inside the Clark home, Jenny, Crawford and Malcolm were getting pretty antsy.

  Jenny brought Malcolm another coffee and Crawford another tea.

  “Do you see our girl yet?” she asked.

  “Nope,” said Malcolm and Crawford in unison. They had taken their positions on either side of the picture window to watch Jorja as she marched down the stairs and over to the flower shop. That had been over a half hour ago and they had been staring out the window without a break.

  Without looking, Malcolm put his coffee down on the window sill. “The police said we should stay inside, until she comes back,” he said, “but it’s been too long.” He twisted his mouth to the left. “Crawford, don’t you think it’s been too long?”

  Crawford didn’t want to turn his head either. He twisted his mouth to the right and said, “It has been too long.” Without looking at his mug, he sipped his tea and then waved his left hand behind his back in the general direction of Jenny. “Chamomile and Mint; thanks hon.”

  “Oh good gravy,” Jenny said quietly to Miss Stein who was assisting Jenny with paperwork. Miss Stein put her paw on Jenny’s hand and suddenly bit the pencil jiggling in front of her nose.

  “Right you are!” Jenny said to Miss Stein as she grabbed her sun hat and a pair of cotton gloves.

  “Going out to do a spot of gardening!” Jenny announced as she sailed out the front door.

  Cousin Steve pounded on the table. “It’s really Malcolm’s fault!” he shouted at his lawyer.

/>   “Look Son, the quickest way to get under my skin is to talk about yourself in the third person. Just man up, accept responsibility!”

  Steve Newsome shrunk back in his chair. “But it really is Malcolm’s fault,” he whined, “even Mom and Dad said so.”

  The bulky man opposite him said evenly, “Are Mommy and Daddy going to stand trial for theft over five thousand dollars? Just tell me your story; I’ll talk to the Crown Prosecutor about restitution and we can probably get your sentence suspended.” He snapped his fingers. “That would be now, Malcolm.”

  “I told you! Malcolm closed his accounts, so the cheques bounced. How was I supposed to know he closed his accounts?”

  The lawyer checked his papers. “Your parents didn’t mention a diminished responsibility defense; do you currently have a psychiatrist?”

  Steve pounded his fist on the table again. “Dude! I am not crazy! Don’t disrespect me like that! My parents are paying you good money; one word to them and your butt is bounced from this lawyer gig!”

  “The name is William Street; or Mr. Street if you prefer. This is an intake interview wherein I decide if I will defend you or not. Soon, I will be leaving to be picked up by my stunning girlfriend Constance in her brand new Lexus LS 500. We will then drive to the airport to catch a flight to Vegas. The only question in my mind is; do I leave here in twenty minutes or now? It’s up to you. Dude.”

  “Okay, okay, I have this cousin Malcolm,” Steve began.

  “Wait; you’re not Malcolm Newsome?” the Lawyer asked.

  Steve rolled his eyes. “No, I’m Steve Newsome. I thought my parents would have told you that,” he said. “Anyway, my cousin started this construction business a few years ago and I kind of took it over.” Steve put his hands on his hips. “And he got all pissy about it! Said I stole stuff from him!”

  “Did you?”

  “Well, technically.”

  The lawyer put his tented hands to his lips. “Let’s start at the beginning. When did you take over your cousin’s business?”

  Steve leaned back in his chair and started laughing. “I guess you could say I was helping Malcolm expand his business right when he started it. See, he was getting all this money from people; he promised he would renovate a kitchen or stuff like that, so I went to more people and said the same thing. And naturally, I would ask them to put a deposit down.”

  “Naturally.”

  “But, I’m not really a carpenter, so it really was up to Malcolm to follow up on my leads.” Steve suddenly leaned forward. “And he didn’t!” he said with disgust.

  William Street poised his pen to write on his yellow legal pad. “When did your cousin hire you to be his salesman?”

  “Well, he didn’t really. It was more me showing initiative. I would just take his cards and knock on doors and say, heah, I’m Malcolm Newsome and because my company is new, I’ll do the work for the 50% off the going rate.” Steve started laughing again. “They would just give me money; practically throw it at me!”

  “I see. So the first time you stole his identity was how many years ago?”

  “About a year after he graduated; he’s two years younger than me, so about nine years ago?”

  William stopped writing on his notepad. “How much money did you collect and what did you do with it?”

  “Look at this baby!” Steve said splaying out the fingers on his right hand and pointing to his pinky finger. “My first real diamond ring! I can’t remember how many carats it is, but look at it! It’s huge! I picked it up from a guy at my Dad’s club for only two grand.” Steve sat back and watched the ring sparkle.

  The lawyer smiled. “You know, it will sparkle more if you breathe on it. Go ahead, try it.”

  Steve put the ring near his mouth and exhaled loudly on it. The fog from his breath stayed on his ring. It only began to disperse when William started speaking again.

  “Well, Son, your stone didn’t pass the fog test. Granted, you would really need a jeweler’s loupe to look for inclusions or an identifying number put there by a laser; but I can confidently say, that is not a diamond.”

  Steve smashed both fists down on the table with such violence that the Corrections Officer walked over. William waved him away.

  “That thief!” Steve yelled, “How dare he!”

  Jorja started dancing a jig. She held her chunky bracelet close to her mouth and with her best Sean Connery imitation, she announced, “The shoebox is filled. Repeat, the shoebox is filled.”

  Jesse frowned and grabbed a pen from the counter. “Now give me your social insurance number and medical number.”

  Jorja bowed deeply. Still channeling her inner James Bond she announced, “My mission is complete; now I’m off to eliminate all free radicals!”

  As she ran up to the police van, she noticed three people frozen like mannequins on the front stairs of her home.

  About five minutes earlier, Malcolm and Crawford had tumbled out the front door after Jenny. As they gathered on the stairs, Crawford started whispering, “Act natural, act natural!”

  Jenny sat on a step and raised her garden tool in the direction of the flower shop. “My,” she said, “Look at these nasty weeds, I must attack them forthwith!”

  “Oh I get it,” Crawford whispered, “The Sears catalogue game.” He put one hand on his hip and pointed with the other. “Look, I have found a tree! Buy this sweater now and you too will be able to find trees!”

  Malcolm started laughing, but both Jenny and Crawford tut-tutted him, so he quickly grabbed a twig and put it in his mouth. He leaned back, put one foot up on a step, and said, “I don’t always smoke a pipe, but when I do, I always wear my manly jeans. Buy a pair of manly jeans and you too will be able to laugh at carcinoma!”

  “Until, of course, carcinoma laughs at you,” Jenny said sadly, thinking of her Mom. She shook her head and shifted her pose. “Behold,” she said brightly, “Yon claw sparkles in the sunlight with the blood of my enemies! Buy this deceptively simple sun hat and you too will be a warrior princess!”

  “But wait; use the attached coupon and receive a bonus sunhat!” Malcolm said.”

  “Comes in four deceptively simple colours,” Crawford added. “Sunlit yellow, ocean blue, bloodthirsty red and…”

  “Jorja- orange!” Malcolm said happily as Jorja ran up the stairs.

  “Well kids,” she shouted to her loved ones, “The sting was a roaring success! The thief was stung; repeatedly I might add, and I can breathe again.”

  Crawford sat down heavily on a step. He rubbed his arm and exhaled loudly. “Jorja,” he said, “Never ever ever do that again.”

  She held up her right hand and intoned “I promise to never ever wear shoulder pads again.”

  Malcolm raced down the stairs and kissed Jorja. “Yes, I thought you were looking fairly triangular when I got here this morning. Perhaps we could donate this outfit to an eighties video?”

  Jenny laughed. “I gotta tell ‘ya, I was the bomb when I wore that outfit!” she said.

  “Yes you were,” Crawford said and then quickly duplicated his tree finding pose. “Look! I think Jesse may be taking an ocean voyage soon while accompanied by men in blue.”

  Two squad cars had pulled up in front of the ‘Blooming Things’ shop.

  “Isn’t that sweet,” Malcolm said while still hugging Jorja tightly, “He’ll have some buddies to keep him company on the ferry.”

  “I do hope he finds the ocean air bracing!” Jenny added, “As he probably won’t be out in the open air anytime soon after he gets to the mainland jail.”

  Malcolm tipped his free hand back and forth. “Even though it will probably be an indictable offense, he could be out on a conditional release if he gets someone to post his bail.”

  Crawford and Jenny looked at one another, and then back at Malcolm. They raised their eyebrows.

  “Cousin,” Jorja and Malcolm said at the same time.

  “This sounds like a story that needs to be told over chocolate pu
dding…”Crawford said as he climbed up the stairs.

  “But first, let’s wave good bye to Jesse the Jerk!” Jorja said. She began wildly waving towards the perplexed group of men leading the thief out in hand cuffs.

  “Well now it’s time to say good bye to Jesse jerk and all his kin!” she sang. She turned and waved at the police van. “We would like to thank you folks for kindly dropping in!”

  “You’re not invited back again to this locality,” Malcolm sang.

  Jenny chortled and sang, “And probably won’t return because of our mentality!”

  Crawford stopped in the doorway and shouted, “Artistic, that is. Go set in jail. Take your belt and shoelaces off. Don’t come back now, y’hear?”

  At the ferry dock on the mainland, Parmella was jumping with joy.

  “There she is!” she screamed. She rushed forward to assist her younger sister.

  Cydney took the large bag off Surinder’s shoulder as Parmella took the handle of the rolling luggage.

  The very pregnant teenager looked at both woman and burst out crying.

  “I had to take the elevator,” she cried. “And I forgot to pack something to eat,” Surinder sobbed. “And I don’t think my shoes match!”

  Parmella patted her back as they walked to the parking lot. “It’s okay sweetie, you can take the next ferry back and get the right shoes.”

  Surinder stopped crying and looked at Parmella. “You are a jerk,” she said, and then her chin started quivering again.

  Cydney quickly reached inside her own bag and handed an energy bar to Surinder. “This is just fruit; completely gluten free. Isn’t an elevator ride the worst?” Cydney said.

  “It’s just the worst!” agreed Surinder as she started sobbing again.

  “It’s okay Sur,” Parmella said, “You’re shoes almost match. You’ve got one sparkly blue slipper and one sparkly purple one. Well done, girl, considering you probably haven’t been able to see your feet for weeks!”

  Cydney pointed to her white Malibu. “Here we are; now Surinder, we’ll help you into the back seat. We’ve got just a short ride to my place and then you can finally put your feet up.”

 

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