by Pat Simmons
This woman sounded like an action figure on steroids or something. “I’m sorry to hear that she’s ill. Is there anything I can do?”
“Hold that offer. Right now, I’ve got to get some rest. I’ll think clearer tomorrow. Thanks, man, for being here for me.” Parke held out his hand. Kidd accepted the shake and the slap on the back. “Good night. We’ll get back in the ring later.”
“Yeah.” Kidd smirked. “When the bell rings, my gloves will be on.” Chuckling, they retreated to their respective corners of the house.
Chapter Four
A few days later, Kidd was about to stretch out in Parke’s favorite chair when Parke strolled in. Rubbing the back of his neck and then squeezing it, Kidd recognized Parke’s sign of frustration because he had the same habit. In fact, he’d done it minutes earlier.
It had been a grueling week. Kidd was exhausted after hours of morning group interviews, networking luncheons, and evening seminars. His job prospects didn’t seem any better than in Boston. One thing he had to admit, this family really did have connections. Too bad he had burned so many bridges.
“Hey, man. Whatz up?” Parke didn’t wait for his response, as he took residence in another recliner. “I’ve come to collect on your offer.”
Kidd froze and frowned. “What did I offer?”
“About Grandma BB.”
His heart sank. Strokes weren’t anything to play with. “Look, man, I’m really sorry she passed away.” Kidd felt like a jerk for giving Parke a hard time on the same day his close friend had suffered a stroke. Now she was dead.
“Are you kiddin’ me? Grandma BB is very much alive. We made arrangements for her to stay temporarily at Garden Chateau. It’s a skilled nursing and assisted living facility. The director is a friend of mine, and I’m also her financial planner. Hopefully, Grandma BB will be out in no time.
“But the way that woman was swearing at Cheney and me when we had her transferred today, I would say she’ll need an extended stay in order for her to repent. I was so close—” he used his finger and thumb to demonstrate—“to scooping her up and dumping her in the prayer room until praise and worship filled her mouth.” He exhaled. “She clowned so bad at the nursing facility, we literally had to leave the building before we got put out. Cheney and I were down the hall and could still hear her carrying on. Slurred speech and all. Needless to say, I don’t think our presence was going to aid in her recovery at that moment. Everyone agreed.
“The director of nursing will give us a call when she feels Grandma BB has accepted her diagnosis. The sassy-mouthed senior has to be willing to become an active participant in her recovery. The nurse cautioned me that it could be weeks, or maybe a month, depending on Grandma BB’S frame of mind. At this point, she seems agitated because she likes to be in control.”
“Sounds like a character to me.” Kidd wanted to laugh at his cousin’s embellished description of some old woman.
“To say the least, Mrs. Beatrice Tilley Beacon, aka Grandma BB, is a spirited personality. She needs almost twenty-four-hour surveillance.”
“I wish there was something I could do,” Kidd stated offhandedly, as he stood and was about to head toward the kitchen. Mrs. Beacon sounded feisty. Too bad he’d never met her.
“There is. I have a business proposition. You may not think you need us, but we desperately need you right now.”
Suddenly, Kidd had a bad, sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to like it. Business propositions were usually meant to take advantage of something or somebody. And he was nobody’s fool.
“Okay, here’s the deal. Grandma BB is somewhat of a displaced matriarch in our family—albeit a crazy one. But God’s working on her. Yesterday, I called in a favor. The nursing facility has a few openings. The director says whichever position you want while you’re undercover, is yours. You can keep an eye on Grandma BB and keep us posted on her progress.” Parke looked hopeful.
“What?” Kidd roared. “Me? In a nursing home? You’ve lost your mind! I am not nursing-home material or old-folks friendly. That’s a definite no.” He laughed and shook his head.
“I’m serious. She seems to have aged from the episode. I don’t think she wants us to see her like that, but she doesn’t know you. You could be our eyes.”
“The woman had a stroke. How much trouble could she get into?” Kidd stated what seemed to be the obvious.
Parke lifted a brow. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Believe me, Grandma BB is headstrong and will find a way. All you have to do is keep us updated on how she’s doing—”
“Can’t your friend do that? You know, the one who did you that favor?” Kidd was having an onset of shortness of breath, and his palms were getting clammy. I’m getting ready to have a heart attack. Lord, anything but that, he silently petitioned. Could he fake passing out? Wait a minute. He wasn’t a sissy. A bold, flat-out “no” was on the tip of his tongue.
“One thing the Jamiesons share is pride. Not a good quality all the time, but it’s in our blood.” Parke stood and exhaled slowly. “I’m begging you. Hopefully, she’ll be out of there in a few weeks, maybe a month—tops. Then you can do one of your specialties—quit.”
Kidd ignored the last comment; he was feeling like a deer caught in someone’s headlights. Soon he calmed down and all his earlier symptoms seemed to vanish. He had never been in a work environment around seniors who needed help to the restroom, to eat, or to dress themselves.
“I don’t think I’m the one for that. A nursing home? Listen, Parke, if this is about a payback, I’ll swallow my pride, eat crow, and take any of the previous offers. And, believe it or not, I’ve even been job hunting on my own. It’s just that I’m allergic to smelly, teeth-missing, bladder-incontinent people.”
“Keep living. You’ll get there. Besides, Garden Chateau is the Cadillac of nursing facilities,” Cheney said, as she entered the room from nowhere. Had she been eavesdropping on their conversation? Kidd immediately added nosey to the list of the Jamieson family’s faults.
Sure it is—Cadillac, huh? Like the Jamieson brothers lying about St. Louis being a Mecca of job opportunities. If he hadn’t fallen for the “land of milk and honey” story, the Promised Land, or the “green pastures” fantasy, Kidd would be at No Name Restaurant on the Boston Pier, getting ready to devour a delectable swordfish dinner.
“The answer is still no.” Kidd was a man who meant what he said and said what he meant. For him, this was a no-brainer.
Then strangely enough, on Sunday evening, he didn’t know what had hit him or what was in the food they fed him, but he had a sudden change of heart. He concluded the family must have lifted him up in prayer while they were in church that morning. How else could his mouth betray him by saying, “I’ll do it for a few weeks.”
Ten minutes before 8:00 a.m. on Monday morning, he was about to report for duty. Talk about guilt? The Jamiesons went for the overkill.
The moment he stepped through the door to the facility, his foul attitude dissipated. A lady was posted outside the administrative office, watching the entrance. Somehow he forgot why he didn’t want to work there.
As though drawn by a magnet, he approached her direction. Mesmerized by her beauty, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The woman’s hair seemed to have every hue of brown in it. In some way, her maroon nurse’s uniform complemented the red undertones in her lovely skin. Her luscious lips appeared to be made for resuscitation. She was beautiful. Kidd sucked in his breath. Should he thank Parke now or later?
Chapter Five
Don’t drool, Eva warned her mouth when Garden Chateau’s automatic doors opened. Her eyes were fixed on the six-foot-plus inches of male perfection and temptation that suddenly graced the entrance. Removing his sunglasses, he glanced around. Once they made eye contact, he swaggered toward her. A suit never looked so good on a man.
Semidark chocolate drenched the skin of this fine Black man. The crisp white shirt against his neck complemented his dark suit. She
wondered if he was the new hire the nursing home staff was expecting. Or, was he visiting a loved one? When he greeted her with his infectious smile and baritone voice, he reminded her of a broadcaster, a world-renowned politician, or an Ivy League professor. For a fleeting moment, Eva felt if they were in a room with a thousand people, he would stand out. Almost instantly, she knew her friend and coworker, Dawn Wright, would make a mad rush to stake her claim.
“Good morning, I’m Kevin Jamieson. I’m the new community resident liaison.” He nodded as he towered over her by at least a foot. “Family and friends call me Kidd and I answer,” he joked. “Are you one of the nurses?” His speech indicated he wasn’t a native Missourian.
“I’m studying to become one. I’m Eva Savoy.” Yep, Dawn’s man radar would pick up Kidd any minute now. Her coworker prided herself with scoring three or more dates a month. Then too, Dawn didn’t believe any place was off-limits to find romance, even the workplace. That’s where Eva drew the line. She didn’t want to work with a man by day and then date him by night. The idea seemed to violate a woman’s code of freedom.
“Hope you succeed. I’m sure your patients will feel better once you give them that smile. You lifted my spirits the moment I saw you.”
Breathe. Nothing touched Eva more than a genuine compliment. And she felt that his was sincere. The phony ones really bothered her. If she had a bad hair day, she didn’t want to hear someone say how cute she looked.
How did Garden Chateau snag him? Not that a good-looking man couldn’t work in a nursing home, but his piercing dark eyes, ebony smooth skin, and fine, wavy hair were assets that could back up the line at the express checkout lanes. Although he had a hole pierced in one earlobe, the stud was absent—smart professional choice.
Finally, her employer had taken Eva’s suggestion seriously about adding someone whose sole focus was to address the residents’ concerns. The board had left her in limbo for months about a decision. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she blinked and there was a liaison. They had created the position, posted an opening, and hired a candidate—all in one week and behind her back. Amazing.
“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me to show you around and introduce you to the staff.” His presence was poised to spark an instant holiday; the women would break out in spontaneous celebration.
Kidd’s eyes twinkled. “I’m fearless. However, if you weren’t the first face I saw this morning, I probably would have turned back around and left immediately.”
She nodded and smiled at his teasing. Good looking and a sense of humor. Nice qualities. Less than five minutes later, as Eva had predicted, Kidd Jamieson turned heads and interrupted conversations—staff and residents—while she led him on a tour of the facility. Up close and personal, Eva enjoyed the smell of his cologne and admired his proud walk. It was as if he built the place instead of being a new hire.
“Besides our sophisticated emergency response and security alert system, we have a state-of-the-art gym/game room/exercise room under the guise of physical therapy. Our residents can enjoy two heated swimming pools and flat-screen televisions in every common room, formal dining rooms …”
Her voice trailed off, as she caught a glimpse at one of her favorite charges. Mrs. Ollie Valentine was sitting in her room, nodding as she babbled on. Her steady stream of conversation could either be directed toward a phantom visitor or a recently admitted roommate.
Eva wondered how the stroke victim was faring with Mrs. Valentine’s constant monologue. At times, the woman was known to talk, even in her sleep. It was harmless chatter, but when brought to her attention, Mrs. Valentine became so tickled by her own behavior. Unfortunately, her last two roommates weren’t entertained and requested different rooms.
“You are the perfect ambassador for this place. I feel so much passion in your voice. I hope one day I can catch your enthusiasm about something,” he said, thinking out loud. He cleared his throat. “Seriously, I’m impressed. I hadn’t expected all of this.”
Tilting her head, Eva frowned. “Really? A tour is usually a standard part once the interview process is complete.”
“I was interviewed at the last minute, and there wasn’t time.”
Hmmm. She nodded. Yes, Kidd was a total package with the charisma of a youth minister, the build of a quarterback, and mannerisms of a diplomat. But there was a thing called qualifications. What were his? Garden Chateau prided itself on doing a thorough background investigation, which included drug testing on every new hire, and the rule was strictly enforced. How was all that possible in such a short period? She mentally stored that little tidbit and opened the door to the common grounds.
“No expense was spared. The landscaping is as meticulous as the indoor décor.” Colorful, sturdy outdoor furniture, which was scattered under trees and across the manicured grounds, was eye-catching.
She pointed to a carefree walkway to her right. A white picket fence blocked out a large area. “Over there is our miniature petting zoo. It’s a win-win situation for the animals and our residents. A few buildings over is a day care center for the children of our employees.”
Next, they veered in the opposite direction down a path that parted a wall of trimmed hedges. Stopping, Eva sighed. A slight breeze ruffled her hair and she finger-combed it back. “This luscious ten-acre campus is breathtaking with its centerpiece water fountain. My only complaint is the annoying geese.” She wrinkled her nose.
Kidd laughed. “Yes, Canadian geese, who seemed to have forgotten their way home.”
Eva didn’t want to pry information from Kidd that he wasn’t willing to disclose, but she was curious. “I detect a dialect.” She hoped he would keep her from guessing. After all, it was part of the “getting-to-know-the-new-kid-on-the-block stage”. No pun intended. “No hints?”
He wiggled his brows. “I guess I haven’t been in St. Louis long enough to lose it.”
She shook her head, not wanting to take the liberty to nudge him in his side or playfully swat his arm. It wasn’t as if they were old friends. He seemed to have a personality that exuded calm, and Eva enjoyed being in his company. However, it was only Kidd’s first day. So she refrained from becoming too relaxed too soon around him.
“It’s part of you. You can never lose your roots. Anyway, I was about to say, this is a front-row seat for God’s handiwork to captivate any observer. Of course, every one of our residents has to have an escort when they’re outside. If they don’t, their security bracelet will activate a special alarm system.”
Kidd stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at the water fountain. He had become so intense; Eva thought he had forgotten about her. Obviously, there were hidden complexities in this man. She spoke softly. “Whenever your life is in turmoil or a workday is stressful, this is one of the many benches planted throughout the property. It’s a good place to meditate.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“We’d better head back,” she said, as they retraced their steps. “I know you can’t wait to meet and greet our residents. Besides, I need to complete my ADL charts.”
“ADL?”
That was basic terminology. What exactly were his qualifications? “Activities of daily living—you know, combing hair, brushing teeth, toileting—all the stuff healthcare workers are required to do. That is, to assist our residents in starting their morning.”
She quickened her steps toward the front offices. “Well, Kidd—I mean Kevin—that’s your abbreviated tour. I hope you’ll like it here.”
“You’re giving me every reason to. Trust me.”
Flirty. Eva hoped she hadn’t blushed. She never expected in her drab maroon scrubs to garner so many accolades in one day. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to assist some stroke victims with their ADLS.”
She had almost made her escape when he called after her. “Perhaps, we can enjoy lunch together.”
“Can’t promise that,” she said over her shoulder. “I plan to spend most of the day with a new patient,
Mrs. Beacon, so don’t wait for me. The food is good, and I’m sure the lovable old residents will clamor for your attention.”
“I prefer the attention of my tour guide.”
Friendly or flirty, Eva didn’t have the time to dwell on it. New hires were always nice. They wanted to be liked. Kidd had already accomplished that mission with her and several others.
As she hurried to the nurses’ station, she hoped Kidd would make a spiritual connection with the hearts of each soul. It wasn’t fair to judge them when they’re wrapped in an outer shell of failing health and disabled bodies. Eva absentmindedly shrugged. Kidd applied for this job. He knew what he was getting into, so she wouldn’t have to worry about that silly notion.
Eva was certain he would be the talk of the facility for a while. She anticipated some impractical accessories would emerge: some woman would risk wearing dress heels with her scrubs, sport dangling earrings, or drape pearls around her neck in order to get his attention. She would definitely expect to witness a few new hairdos she had never seen before.
“Oh, well.” Eva was just glad to have a committed voice for all residents. Grabbing her chart, she headed down the corridor.
“Good morning, ladies,” Eva greeted, walking into a Victorian-decorated suite. Although the walls were white, the curtains, accents, and furniture were explosive shades of green. It was tasteful décor. Many of the double-occupancy rooms were spacious enough for a small sofa, chairs, and personal items from home. This particular room had plush rose carpeting, yet a thick, emerald green rug covered the center of the floor.