Renovations (By Design Book 6)

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Renovations (By Design Book 6) Page 4

by J. A. Armstrong


  “Governor,” Bill DeGrasso stepped into the room. “Oh, Jameson. Sorry, to interrupt,” he apologized. Jameson smiled. “Kevin is on the phone with the A.G. now.”

  Candace nodded her understanding. “Good. They can’t hold off on a press conference and neither can we now.”

  “I know,” DeGrasso said. “What are you thinking?”

  “First, I think we need an assessment of the situation.”

  “You want me to call Greg?”

  “No, Dana will pass that to me momentarily,” Candace said. She was about to continue when the phone on her desk beeped. “Excuse me,” she said. She gently squeezed Jameson’s arm and made her way to the desk.

  “I’m going let you have your space,” Jameson whispered in Candace’s ear. “I won’t be far,” she told Candace.

  Candace nodded her thanks and moved to pick up the phone. “Put it through. Greg. Yes, I’m sure you are. No, it can’t wait. I agree. How bad?” Candace asked. She rubbed her forehead and groaned. “I will have Dana set up the call. Ten minutes. Get your people ready,” she hung up and looked at her Chief of Staff. “You know who we need,” she said. “Ten minutes.” DeGrasso nodded. “And, Bill? Five would be better.”

  Chapter Three

  Jameson walked into her offices with Spencer on her heels. She had planned on leaving him with Pearl for a few hours while she checked in with Jonah and Melanie. Spencer had begged Jameson to take him with her to the office. Everyone doted on him here and he loved to sit at one of the large drafting tables and pretend that he was working. Jameson had not been hard to convince. She enjoyed watching the way his face would light up the moment they walked through the door.

  “J.D.,” Jonah met them in the hallway.

  “Uncle!” Spencer ran into Jonah’s legs.

  “Well, hey there, Spence! Did you come to help J.D. with her work?” he asked his nephew.

  “Yep.”

  Jonah chuckled at Spencer’s enthusiasm. “How’s Mom?” he asked Jameson.

  Jameson’s strained smile answered Jonah’s question. He put Spencer on the ground with a small sigh.

  “Jay Jay? Can I draw now?” Spencer asked Jameson.

  Jonah watched as Jameson’s expression shifted to genuine amusement and affection. “Sure, you can, Spence. Come on. You can use my table while Uncle Jonah and I talk.”

  “Kay!” Spencer ran off in the direction of Jameson’s office.

  Jonah laughed as he and Jameson followed. “So? You look worried. Shell called. She’s not too happy with Mom right now.”

  Jameson pursed her lips and attempted to conceal her concern. “Your mom knows what she’s doing.”

  “Yeah, but J.D., I saw her press conference. Is it really a great idea for her to be going down there?”

  Jameson nodded. “It’s her call, Jonah.”

  “J.D.?”

  “I don’t like it,” Jameson admitted. “She’s got the National Guard on alert and Wallace called twice before she left…”

  “President Wallace called?”

  Jameson nodded. “Unrest in New York City isn’t just big news, Jonah. It can lead to unrest elsewhere.”

  “Yeah, I get it, J.D. What is going down there going to do? You know people are going to be pissed that she said there is no reason to suspect a racial motivation.”

  “Well, there isn’t.”

  “No one will believe that,” Jonah said flatly.

  Jameson groaned. She was worried. One of the many things that Jameson respected about her wife was Candace’s ability to speak the truth even when it might work against her. She’d watched at a distance throughout the morning as Candace handled the situation, navigating the minefields of opinion and emotion in search of fact. From what Candace had shared with Jameson, the facts seemed to be clear. Officer Marks had been the subject of numerous complaints, six in total. The most troubling was that two of his partners had raised concerns. Both times, Marks had been transferred. Four complaints were from women. Two had been Caucasian, one Hispanic, and one black. The other two formal complaints had been from a young white man and the second boy that had been shot that morning. Each complaint had alleged harassment and two of the complaints had alleged physical assault. There seemed to be no distinction for Marks as to who he bullied. Candace was not about to claim that there was racial bias involved when she was fairly certain that was not the case. She had made it clear that every possibility would be investigated and that every resource would be provided in that endeavor. Jameson also knew that Jonah was right. People saw what they wanted to see. Candace looked for what people often wanted to ignore.

  “Not no one, Jonah,” Jameson said. “Some people will believe her. Those are the people she has to rely on.”

  “Boy, she’s got you trained,” he commented playfully.

  Jameson chuckled. “No, but she has taught me a lot. Not the least of which is not to argue with her when she knows better than me,” Jameson laughed.

  Jonah joined in Jameson’s laughter. He could hardly argue her point. “J.D.? I can see it in your eyes. You are worried about her.”

  Jameson nodded. She and Jonah had developed a close relationship. She was barely old enough that she could even pretend to claim him as her son, but many times it felt a bit that way, more so than with his siblings. Michelle was like a little sister to Jameson and Marianne was still a puzzle to her at times. Jonah turned to Jameson often. He confided in her more than his siblings. Jameson had grown fiercely protective of all of Candace’s family. It sometimes surprised her how much her relationship with all of them had evolved over the three years she had been with Candace. Jonah had learned to read Jameson’s expressions. She was certain that he noted her concern. Jameson smiled reassuringly at her step-son.

  “I always worry about her, Jonah,” Jameson admitted.

  “Do you think there will be trouble?” Jonah asked.

  The earlier turn of events and escalation of violence had changed Candace’s original plans. She would meet with community leaders as well as Tyrone Jeffries’ mother at a neighborhood church. Candace would listen to their concerns and attempt to begin to instill some level of confidence in the community that there would be accountability. Following that, she would head to the mayor’s office to meet with city and state officials. She wanted a plan to deal with the unrest that had suddenly besieged a small section of Brooklyn. Candace also expected some answers as to how an officer with so many issues on his record was still patrolling the streets. Jameson had seen the worry lines creasing Candace’s forehead when she had stopped to kiss Jameson goodbye. Not only was a young boy dead, but a neighborhood had fallen into chaos endangering entire families. And, Candace feared for the men and women that would have to help quell that unrest—the men and women who risked their lives willingly every day. That risk had been unnecessarily increased. Jameson was positive Candace would do anything she could to avoid any other casualties.

  “I don’t know,” Jameson answered honestly. “I think she’s hoping she might be able to calm things down a bit.”

  “She have some kind of kryptonite I don’t know about?” Jonah asked.

  Jameson smiled at his joke. It had been tainted by a note of fearfulness. “She’ll be okay, Jonah,” Jameson assured him. She believed that. Jameson was sure that Candace would arrive safely back in Albany that evening—physically unharmed. She also had little doubt that the day would take an emotional toll on Candace. After a day of maintaining stoicism and composure, Jameson was sure that Candace would be headed for a collapse by the time she got home.

  Jameson made her way to Spencer to see what he was drawing. “What are you making, Spence?”

  Spencer showed Jameson his scribble proudly. “A house, Jay Jay!”

  “I see that,” Jameson said.

  “Yep. See? That’s you and Nana.”

  “Oh, is this a new house for me and Nana?”

  “Yep. And me, and Mads and Mommy,” he pointed to some squiggles. “And, Uncle,�
� he added.

  Jonah suppressed his chuckle. “Thanks, Spence.”

  “You keep drawing, buddy,” Jameson told her grandson.

  “So? Worried we’d run the place into the ground?” Jonah asked.

  “No,” Jameson said honestly. “I was hoping to talk to you and Mel about where we were at with the Blander’s project.”

  “Mel is in Boston today, J.D.”

  Jameson closed her eyes and mentally scolded herself. “Shit, I forgot.”

  “Jay Jay!” Spencer called out. “Nana says time-out for naughty words.”

  Jonah covered his face to hide his amusement as Jameson groaned.

  “Nana’s right. I’m sorry, Spence. Can we maybe skip the time-out this time?”

  Spencer shook his head and pointed to Jameson’s chair. “No, Jay Jay. Nana says.”

  Jonah thought he might collapse from lack of oxygen, he started laughing so hard.

  “Laugh it up, Daddy,” Jameson whispered in his ear before heading to her chair. “Your time will come.”

  “How many minutes does J.D. have to sit in time-out?” Jonah asked Spencer seriously.

  Spencer tapped the pencil in his hand against his head, just as he had watched Jameson do when she was thinking. He looked over at a sullen Jameson and back at his uncle. “Two hours!”

  “What?” Jameson asked.

  “Nana says.”

  “Nana makes you sit for two minutes.”

  Spencer smiled and pointed at Jameson. “Two, Jay Jay. You sit for two hours!”

  “Guess I will get you some coffee,” Jonah said. “Looks like you’ll be here a while.”

  Jameson shot Jonah a menacing look. “No sense of time, Jonah.”

  “Quiet, Jay Jay. Nana says no talking in time-out.”

  Jonah snickered. “Spencer? Would you like a drink?” he asked his nephew. Spencer nodded. “Okay, I will be back with something in two hours. Then you’ll know it’s time to let J.D. up. Okay?”

  Spencer pondered the offer. He looked at Jameson and then back at Jonah. He pursed his small lips and nodded dramatically. “Kay.”

  ***

  “Was that your mother?” Pearl asked Michelle. Michelle placed her phone back in her pocket and shook her head. “Shell?”

  “Yeah, it was her,” Michelle responded. “Handing me my ass again,” she muttered.

  “What was that?” Pearl asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Pearl raised her brow at Michelle.

  “Ugh, not you too,” Michelle said.

  “What did you do to earn it?” Pearl asked.

  “What makes you think I did anything?” Michelle asked, sounding both frustrated and slightly defeated.

  Pearl grabbed hold of Michelle’s hand and led her to a small loveseat in the room. She pulled Michelle down to sit beside her. Just like her older sister, Michelle at times forgot that she was not Candace’s mother. She was a great deal like her mother—outgoing, bright and able to relate to people easily. It had not surprised Pearl when Candace had offered Michelle a job on her campaign and Michelle had accepted. That had transcended into a job working for Bill DeGrasso. And, in the end analysis, that meant Candace was still the boss.

  “Nice try, kiddo,” Pearl replied. “What happened?”

  “She’s stubborn! That’s what happened!”

  Pearl’s brow rose again. “Mmm…Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Grandma! God! She doesn’t listen!”

  “You mean that she doesn’t agree with you,” Pearl surmised.

  “No, I mean she won’t see reason. How does someone that idealistic make it as far as she has?” Michelle mused.

  Pearl snickered. She wished Michelle could see and hear herself. She reminded Pearl of a young Candace at times, although Candace had never had the flair for dramatics that Michelle possessed. Pearl chuckled again thinking perhaps that particular attribute had skipped a generation. Candace’s mother had certainly possessed it in droves.

  “What’s funny about that?” Michelle asked. Pearl grinned. “Grandma Pearl! It’s not funny.”

  “It kind of is. I wish you could see yourself right now. I’m not sure who I see more—your mother or your grandmother,” Pearl laughed.

  “Grandma? How am I like Grandma?” Michelle asked indignantly. “I was never a debutante.”

  “No, but I’ll bet you could have been an actress with those theatrics of yours. You sure didn’t get that from my Candy and face it your father is a bit dry—if you know what I mean.”

  “I don’t think I am being dramatic.”

  “I know,” Pearl replied. “That’s the point.”

  “She’s walking into a five-alarm blaze,” Michelle observed.

  “No, she’s approaching a flicker that she’d like to extinguish—to use your colorful analogy.”

  “Grandma…”

  “Shell,” Pearl warned Michelle. “Your mother knows what she is doing. If she handed you your ass, you deserved it. So, what did you say?”

  “I just asked why she had advisers if she had no intention of listening to their advice.”

  Pearl winced. Candace always listened to the advice of her colleagues and staff. That had always been one of the first things people who had worked with Candace commented on. She was action oriented, not prone to reaction. Candace looked for information before making decisions. Once she made a decision, she tended to stick by it. Michelle’s words would not simply have annoyed Candace, they had likely offended her.

  Pearl shook her head at Michelle and sighed.

  “What? She…”

  “You know that is not true, Shell. Just because she didn’t agree with you or someone else doesn’t mean she didn’t listen to you.”

  “She didn’t listen to any of us,” Michelle replied. “We all told her this was risky—in more ways than one.”

  “Uh-huh. I’ve never known your mother to be reckless.”

  “How about stubborn?”

  “Oh? Who is being stubborn? You suddenly don’t trust her judgment?”

  “God, are you sure that she is not your daughter for real? You sound just like her.”

  Pearl smiled. “Um-hum. Look in the mirror lately?”

  Michelle groaned. “She’s probably going to make him fire me.”

  “No, but I’m guessing you might want to think about apologizing,” Pearl said.

  “All I did was tell her the truth.”

  “Sounds more like you accused her of dismissing your opinion,” Pearl surmised.

  “I,” Michelle fumbled for a defense. She looked back at Pearl. “Grandma, it isn’t just me who is worried. She has a lot of things to deal with already. Safety aside, putting herself in this could compromise her political clout. She could easily alienate…”

  Pearl shook her head. “Shell, I have been around politics most of my life,” she said. “I remember Candy’s granddad pacing his study at night for hours. I’ve watched your mother work forty-eight hours straight without sleep. One thing I have learned about them, they are always compromised in one way or another. And, Shell? The truth is that is just life. It doesn’t matter what you do. You are always faced with decisions in life that someone else will not agree with.”

  Michelle sighed. “She’s furious with me right now.”

  Pearl smiled and took Michelle’s hand. “Probably,” she agreed. “But, she loves you. Have a little more faith in her,” she told Michelle. “She has it in you.”

  Michelle nodded. “Maybe you should take a job here.”

  Pearl roared with laughter. “No, thank you very much,” she shook her head. “This family is enough of a job already,” she said affectionately.

  “Grandma?” Michelle began. Pearl looked at her. “Don’t you worry about her? Mom, I mean?”

  Pearl’s smile softened. “Every day, Shell. But, I have learned to let her fly. Just like she learned with you.”

  Michelle nodded. “But, someone has to look out for her. She is always look
ing out for everyone else.”

  Pearl winked. “That’s who she is. You can look out for her, just remember she will never stop being your mother, not even here—even if she says she can.”

  ***

  Candace sat on a folding chair facing Martha Jeffries. She had immediately been captivated by the woman. Anger, Candace expected lurked beneath the shadows of shock and grief. Losing a child brought about an unimaginable pain that left a hole in one’s soul forever. Tyrone Jeffries, Martha had shared, had been a precocious little boy that had grown into a curious teenager. Candace had learned that Tyrone was a good student with an affinity for music and art. He had tried his hand at sports, but Martha had laughed at that. “Gangly,” she chuckled. “More coordinated with his hands than his legs,” she had joked.

  There were no words of true comfort that Candace could offer the woman sitting before her. She knew that. She listened to the woman’s stories, impressed by her obvious intellect and affection for her children. When Martha shared the fact that her father had been a New York Police Officer until his death four years earlier, Candace had been stunned. How, she had immediately wondered, had no one uncovered that fact.

  “Tyrone loved to follow him around,” Martha told Candace. “My father was a big man, almost 6 feet five. I think he scared most people on sight,” she laughed. “But, in truth, he was just a big teddy bear. I think Tyrone wanted to be him to tell you the truth. “

  Candace smiled, her thoughts immediately traveled to Spencer’s need for a bigger tool belt. “I think I understand,” she said. Candace looked down at her phone in concern when it beeped.

  “It’s okay,” Martha said genuinely when Candace looked at her phone.

  A smile touched Candace’s lips when she opened the message. “It’s from my son.”

  “I hope everything is all right,” Martha said honestly.

  Candace looked back at the woman in awe. Genuine concern painted her expression. “It seems my grandson put my wife in time-out,” she explained. Martha smiled. Candace passed her the phone to see the picture Jonah had snapped of Jameson sulking behind her desk with Spencer staring at her from the drafting table.

 

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