Guilty By Association

by Pat Simmons

  Parke switched back to his story. “Man, I was like a dog chasing after a bone—a fifty-pound turkey bone. I hired my private investigator friend, the Duke, to see if I had an illegitimate son who, by birthright, was Parke K. Jamieson VII.”

  Kidd’s respect for Parke moved up another notch. No telling how many illegitimate children Samuel had sired and had never “fessed up” about them or bothered to seek a relationship with them. That’s why Kidd’s sexual escapades were well-orchestrated steps of protection. He would not repeat his father’s mistakes.

  “The Duke found my son. Pace had already been adopted and his name changed to Gilbert Junior. That really made me mad.” Parke scowled. “What kind of name is that for a Black man? It wasn’t any better than the name my ‘few-nights stand and ex-lover,’ Rachel, gave him—Parkie. I believe that woman jacked up my son’s name on purpose.”

  “Stick to the story, man,” Malcolm taunted him, mumbling something else inaudible.

  Parke shot Malcolm a death-threat stare. Kidd grunted. He had exchanged that expression many times with Ace. After that brief intermission, Kidd resumed the conversation. “Why was Pace in foster care in the first place?”

  “His mother died in a car accident. Rachel had no close family and my name was missing from his birth certificate. The state took over, traumatizing my son and terminating my rights. But my God can overturn any of man’s laws. I changed his name to—”

  “Cheney threatened to put Parke out if he tampered with their deceased son’s name. She didn’t care if Parkie-Gilbert was Parke’s firstborn or not. He wasn’t their firstborn,” Malcolm butted in.

  Parke cut his eyes at Malcolm as if he didn’t want that tidbit disclosed.

  “In a nutshell, Cheney and I compromised. Out of respect for our deceased child, we legally changed Pace’s name to Parke K. Jamieson VIII. Anyway, to make a long story short, Gilbert didn’t want to give up Pace without a fight. But again, the Lord intervened, and it worked in our favor when Gilbert’s wife became pregnant. The rest is history. Suffice it to say, it was a stressful time.”

  Parke shrugged and fanned the air with his hand. “Anyway, Cheney became pregnant again. I guess you can say the third time was a charm. Sometimes, God’s way isn’t ours. The result is that little terror, Paden. Regardless of the biological beginnings, we love our children. They are all Jamiesons.”

  Whew! Kidd hadn’t expected this revelation. All he saw was their happy ending. In a million years, he would never have guessed how their stories began.

  Unfortunately for him, Kidd didn’t see a happy ending in his future. Parke must have sensed what he was thinking.

  “We can’t change the past, Kidd. I don’t know anything about your father, and I’m sorry he wasn’t in your life. But I believe you need to confront him and let him know …”

  Kidd held up his hand. “I know there’s somewhere in the Bible that says it’s disrespectful to curse out your parent. Right now, knowing the path my brother is taking—and no one can convince me that it’s not a direct result of our father not being around—I would hurt him, Parke.”

  “That may not be a bad thing. A little beat down is good for the conscience,” Malcolm stated.

  “You’re not helping, man,” Parke snarled and slapped him in the chest with the back of his hand, with no malicious intent. “To put it in a more tactful and Christian way, we have your back. Whenever you’re ready to track him down, we can do it.”

  “That may take a long time.” Kidd meant it. The fact remained that Ace was going downhill and nobody—not even Kidd—could stop his brother from crashing.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kidd. Eva’s heart fluttered as his broad shoulders cleared the entrance of Garden Chateau on Tuesday morning. She, along with the other coworkers, was curious about his absence on Monday. The only information the executive director passed on was that he was away on personal business.

  That made Eva worry. She wanted to hug him, but not only was that inappropriate, she had no warrant for it. Eva sighed in relief just seeing him. She wondered what had come up—death, debt, or whatever else. But she didn’t have the right to ask, or did she?

  Eva was perplexed. She had never seen him in a mood so brooding; it matched the stormy weather rolling through the city that morning. His usual conceited manner, as if he owned and operated the facility, was missing. Today his steps were angry, squashing anything underfoot. How could Kidd’s hard expression appear so masculine? Was this what attracted women to the bad boys?

  “Kevin.” Eva smiled, but grew concerned when he didn’t return her cheerful greeting. “Is everything all right?” She could understand his hesitancy about confiding in her, but the cold shoulder was unexpected.

  A five o’clock shadow clinging to Kidd’s face suited him. If a woman preferred a man with a clean look, he wouldn’t make the cut today. Eva wasn’t complaining.

  “I don’t know how to answer that.” Kidd twisted his lips, never making eye contact. The usual tasteful tie, starched shirt, and creased pants were absent, replaced with a white polo shirt and tan Dockers. His attire reminded her of a school uniform, but he was still good-looking.

  “It’s a multiple-choice answer—yes, no, or maybe.”

  “I choose none of the above.” He didn’t crack a smile and kept walking.

  Eva wanted to toss out “don’t come back until you find out,” but she held her tongue. Who was this guy? How many sides to this man were there? On one side of his personality, he was too arrogant to mingle with his charges. On the other, he was compassionate enough to assist her with preparing for a test.

  “I would say you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but now I’m wondering if you’re awake, Sybilian.”

  “Who?”

  She finally seemed to get his attention. He stopped and stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

  “I like your hair,” Kidd said, without blinking.

  How could the man drop a compliment like that without a smile, purr, or twinkle in his eyes? Eva squinted, as Kidd anchored his fists at his waist.

  “Now, who is Sybilian?”

  “You.” Eva pointed. “Sybil’s brother. You know, the woman who had sixteen personalities. A movie was made about her in the seventies and then a remake several years ago. I’m wondering … will your personalities outnumber hers.”

  “Start counting. No telling how many may come out before the day is over.” Kidd grunted, before he proceeded on.

  “I’ve seen enough already.” If he was going to act like a jerk this week after being so kind to her last week, so be it. She spun around to head in the other direction. “Well, I hope all of your personalities have a great day.”

  Bear one another’s burdens, God spoke.

  “I have to know his burdens before I can bear them, don’t I? He can’t even bear them, Lord. How can I do the impossible?” she mumbled. “I don’t even know what his problem is today,” Eva ranted, as she made her way down the hall.

  The man was as complex as a fruitcake recipe. It seems like no one knew all the secret ingredients. He was the poster child of the type of man Eva didn’t date or want. She pitied the woman who had her eyes and heart set on Kidd Jamieson. Her new resolve was—if he didn’t want her friendship—then she wouldn’t extend it. A good tutor or not, she would avoid him like a weed on the lookout for Roundup pesticide.

  Hurt that she was snubbed, Eva refocused and completed her activities of daily living requirements with the residents. She strolled into Mrs. Valentine and Mrs. Beacon’s room with a smile on her face.

  “Good morning, Eve. Where’s Adam?” Mrs. Valentine’s eyes were bright with life.

  “I sent him back to God. He had a few missing parts.” Eva froze. That wasn’t her standard reply. Was Kidd still on her mind when she answered that way? Mrs. Valentine beamed, but didn’t comment. Eva assisted her first with her morning routine. Before long, both ladies were clean, fresh, and jazzy.

  “Ladies, are you r
eady for breakfast?”

  “Have you seen that Kidd today?” Mrs. Beacon queried.

  Yes, and I don’t plan to see him again, she thought. Before she could answer, two CNAs came into the suite with wheelchairs to transport the women to the dining room. She dodged answering by quickly slipping out of the room.

  Eva managed to steer clear of Kidd for the rest of the morning. After lunch, she rounded a corner and angry voices coming from a nearby room caught her attention. One of them was Kidd’s. Figures. Now what? She gritted her teeth and hurried in that direction.

  “Listen, old man, you forgot who’s calling the shots.”

  She braced to yank Kidd by his polo collar and knock some manners into his head. What in the world is going on? Did this involve another potty break because Theodore Abraham is wheelchair-bound?

  Before Eva took a step into the man’s room, he snapped, “Back off.”

  Eva froze. Was that a call for help?

  “You cheated. That’s the third set of doubles. If you take away my applesauce, that’s my dessert from lunch.” Mr. Abraham’s voice trembled.

  “I don’t have to cheat. I’ve got skills. You either hand over that bowl, or game over,” Kidd threatened.

  Slowly, Eva peeked inside. The two men were involved in a card game. Instead of chips, Mr. Abraham had fruit, a snack-size container of applesauce, and miniature home-baked chocolate chip cookies. Kidd’s arsenal was cans of soda—no doubt from the same vending machine she witnessed him raiding the week before. At least they weren’t playing for cigarettes. Mr. Abraham had emphysema, and she had seen employees slip him one or two when he was outside on the grounds.

  Eva backed away before she could be noticed. Kidd was a challenging formula to decode. Inside his “mad at the world” exterior was a tender heart. There’s only one problem: pulling it out was like delivering a thirteen-pound baby.

  She strolled down the hall to check on the resident who would never be on Kidd’s list of favorites—Mr. Johnston. She changed the bandage on his arm, covering a sore that had suddenly appeared. Doctors wanted the staff to observe it three times a day.

  “Hi, Mr. Johnston, how are you feeling today?”

  “I don’t need you asking me how I feel. Don’t you think I know, gal?” he spat.

  Be the Christian. She took a deep breath. The calmer she talked, the more indignant he became. Finally, Eva finished her task and left the room.

  “Thank God the good outweighs the bad,” she said under her breath, as she rounded the corner. She was just in time to see Kidd leaving Mr. Abraham’s room with his winnings.

  Eva felt like pivoting and going the other way, but this was her turf first. She wasn’t going to let him make her act like less than the professional she was. That fact made her decide to confront him. “Well, I see you’re still alive. What about Mr. Abraham?”

  “Theo is fine, the old goat.” Kidd shifted the stash in his hands.

  Eva nodded, noting the menacing tension that had a stronghold on him when he walked through the door was gone. She relaxed and silently forgave him for his earlier rudeness. “Did you leave him with anything to eat?”

  Kidd shrugged. “He won’t starve. Besides, Theo forced it on me. These are his snacks, not a whole meal.”

  “You can’t gamble with food. You’ll get yourself in trouble and be sitting in jail,” Eva teased, but Kidd’s eye twitched. Evidently, she struck a nerve.

  “If I want motherly advice, I’ll call 617-208-1 …” he shot back, rattling off a number. Out of nowhere, the brooding personality was back. She never met such a moody man.

  Eva’s nostrils flared. “Kidd, you are an evil, mean-spirited, grouchy loser …”

  “Are you taking a breath, or do you need a thesaurus?” He smirked.

  Be the Christian. Eva didn’t answer, as she spun around and stormed away. If she hadn’t, she would be one breath away from telling the man she hated him. She had never said those words to anybody, and Kidd wasn’t going to provoke her to lose her salvation.

  For the remainder of the shift, Eva didn’t know who avoided who. Although other staff members were glad to see Kidd, he was the last person she wanted to be near. She couldn’t wait for her shift to be over. A few hours later, she left work at 5:02 p.m.

  Later that night, Eva flipped through the pages of the newest bridal magazine, trying to take her mind off the standoff with Kidd. Articles about fairy-tale romances didn’t help. She needed to flush out her frustrations to anyone who would listen. Picking up her cordless, she dialed.

  “Hey, Angel,” Eva greeted when her sister answered. Then she took a deep breath before exploding, “I hate men.”

  “What?”

  “Actually, just one. Kidd was—”

  “Kidd, again? Maybe you need to go to a supervisor about him. That man sounds dangerous.”

  Eva twisted her lips. “And looks it too.”

  “What is his problem? Does he have multiple personalities?”

  “My diagnosis exactly. But he doesn’t act like that with everybody, just me and a few other residents he doesn’t like. I’m clueless.”

  Her sister ran through a list of possible things Eva could have done unknowingly to aggravate him. Finally, Angela sighed. “The only thing I can say is that it’s the Jesus in you he doesn’t like. If that’s the case, stay clear and pray from afar.”

  “Hey, sis.” Lance must have taken the phone. “This dude could like you in a juvenile kind of way. But I agree with my baby, stay clear. I would never treat your sister like that. Do I need to make my presence known, because I will?”

  Eva contained her giggles. Lance was in good shape, but there would be no contest if he took on Kidd Jamieson. It would be like a semitractor trailer Transformer meeting an electric car. “No. I just needed to vent. I don’t feel threatened.”

  “Are you sure?” Angela and Lance said in unison on the phone.

  Eva reassured them and signed off. It was a mistake to talk to her when Lance was around. He always jumped in the middle of their conversation, as if he didn’t need permission. Eva liked Lance, but was it too much to ask for a little confidentiality between sisters—and twins at that? No doubt, this was what she had to look forward to if Lance became her brother-in-law.

  Eva ran her fingers through her hair. It had been a while since she had her stylist give her tight curls. However, she liked the natural crimp once the curls began to fall. Kidd complimented her on her hair. At the same time, he seemed clueless about her concern for him.

  When her attempt to study failed, she scoured over three wedding catalogs, folding sections or ripping out pages of exquisite dresses. Attempting to work off her stress, she multitasked this way, while consuming two bags of sour apple licorice. If she didn’t feel better soon, she would make a root beer float.

  An hour later, she gave in and made that float anyway. Up until that point, she hadn’t succeeded in clearing her head enough to concentrate on her final exam. After downing the float, she gave in and went to bed.

  Wednesday morning, the weather was breathtaking. Eva was in a good mood, despite a stomachache during the night. She vowed to return to her healthy eating habits, especially after detecting an extra five pounds.

  At the facility, the afternoon was quiet. Many of her residents were either on a shopping field trip or in the activities room. Going to her locker, Eva pulled her nursing book from the shelf. She strolled outside to watch the geese and enjoy the flowers blooming around the campus.

  Her first order of business was to take a few minutes to talk to Jesus. It had been a while since she carved out time for Him. “God, I praise You for allowing me to see another beautiful day. I worship You for Your salvation. And Lord, I thank You for Your abundant blessings. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  Feeling spiritually renewed, Eva continued her walk, lifting her face to the sun and enjoying the kisses of the rays. She laughed at the antics of the puppies competing for her attention. Suddenly, she stopped in her
tracks when she registered the figure occupying the bench through the trees—her bench. Making a swift detour, Eva wanted to put as much distance between her and Kidd as possible. She wouldn’t allow her moment of praise to be in vain.

  By the time she heard footsteps behind her, she was almost at a random bench. Glancing over her shoulder, somehow she wasn’t surprised to see Kidd. What did he do, have sensors on when she was within arguing range or something? She ignored him. They probably needed a restraining order against each other.

  “I’m sorry, Eva,” he said, as his long stride overtook hers.

  “I accept.” She kept walking, bypassing the bench she had chosen for her quick respite. She had to get away from him. He made her moody and her lips loose where she would say things to him she dare not say to another individual.

  Rounding a corner, she spotted another bench and claimed it. She pulled out her textbook and did her best imitation of concentrating for her final exam. Kidd sat, too, but had enough sense to keep his distance. The air was thick between them, but Eva refused to initiate a conversation.

  “I had a lot on my mind, and—”

  “And it came out of your mouth,” she finished.

  He nodded and bowed his head. Eva closed her eyes and silently applied the tricks Kidd had taught her to remember the medical terms. This was it and her semester would be over.

  She fluttered her lids open, as she felt him scoot closer. With her back slightly turned, he was stretching his neck to peer over her shoulder. Slowly, he started calling out the terms. Eva shut her book and stood. “Look, Sybilian, I’m not used to encountering multiple personalities outside of the movies.”

  “I deserved that.”

  “And so much more. You are a good-mood killer, do you know that? And I’m so sick of you right now that I have to start praying when I see you coming.”