by Pat Simmons
“I’m always hungry.” Cameron patted his six pack.
“Let’s eat first. Then we can get started.” Denise walked out of the kitchen with a tray containing a crystal pitcher filled with punch and some glasses.
Turning around, Gabrielle stared into Cameron’s face. “You’re like a panther, sneaking up on me like that. You were just talking seconds ago in there.”
With no response from him but a shrug, she lowered her voice. “Everyone seems to be accepting of you. Is it always this way when you meet distant relatives?”
“It’s a mixed bag. Some relatives want to be found. Others barely want to give a handshake.” He nodded, matching her low tone. “I can tell the youngest brother is a bit reserved. I would hate to put him and Kidd in a room together. I thought Kidd was the poster child for the angry Black man, but I think that brother is a close second. If they got into it, I don’t think Jesus could break them up.”
“He holds the power of the world in His hand. He can break up two knuckleheads by simply breathing on them.”
“It was a joke, Gabrielle. Relax.” Reaching for her hands, he squeezed them. “I don’t want to fight you word for word.”
“That’s just it. If I don’t fight back, I’ll succumb, and I don’t expect to fall.”
He must have recognized the frightened look in her eyes. “I assure you that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you—ever. I don’t expect either one of us to fall. But as God is my witness, Gabrielle, you will not be a fallen angel—because I’ll be there to catch you.”
The Connecticut Jamiesons had done well for themselves career-wise. One twin was an early morning sports analyst at ESPN, a station Gabrielle never watched. The other twin was a manager at United Healthcare, and the others were gainfully employed by United Technologies, a top-ranked regional employer.
As an alumnus from her and Gabrielle’s alma mater, Howard University, Denise held her master’s degree in social work. She had been employed at the state’s department of veteran affairs for years. Her husband recently joined AT&T in a top management position a year before they purchased the house in an outlying neighborhood of Hartford.
After the refreshments were devoured, Denise’s dining room was transformed into a war room of computers and old documents. Watching the Jamiesons get situated around the table, Gabrielle remained nearby in a recliner.
“Oh no, you’re part of this, babe.” Cameron added the endearment in front of the others and Gabrielle’s heart fluttered.
God, I wish I didn’t have to fight him so much and just let things happen. She sighed, as he physically pulled her from the chair and ushered her to one next to him at the table.
Gabrielle was about to scold him when the activity of everyone gathering around Denise’s computer monitor interrupted her. They all watched as a young woman—Gabrielle guessed to be in her early twenties—appeared with a beaming smile.
After greeting the group, the first thing out of her mouth was, “Is my cousin there yet, sis?”
Denise grinned. “Yes, Queen. Cameron’s here, along with my friend Gabrielle.”
Others moved aside and Cameron positioned himself so he could be in front of the monitor. The young woman greeted him enthusiastically.
“You’re as beautiful as your name,” he said to Queen.
“Stop flirting. She’s your cousin.” Gabrielle nudged Cameron and everyone snickered.
“Don’t be jealous just because you’re not a Jamieson.” He inhaled and slowly released his breath, adding, “Let me know if you ever change your mind about exploring that option.”
Leaving Gabrielle mesmerized, he turned back to Queen.
Explore that? If they were on the same page in the same book, then there would be no hesitation about indulging in a relationship with Cameron. Take baby steps, her heart coaxed her. She smiled to herself.
“Depending on how far back your research took you, the information you uncovered may have revealed that we’re descendants of royalty, King Seif and Princess Adaeze.”
“Wow, I didn’t know …” she replied in awe. “I’ve always said if I ever get married and have a daughter, I’d name her Princess.”
“You’ll be taking advantage of the royalty instilled in you.” Cameron paused, as if he was flipping through a mental Rolodex. “Your eleventh great-grandfather, Orma, and his wife, Sashe, had two sons, Kingdom and Harrison. Then Candy and Paradise came along.
“Kingdom named his firstborn King. The next sixty years, or four generations, firstborn sons were named King II, III, and IV. I found King II on the Freedom Bureau marriage registry online.”
One of the twins cut in, “I found some of that information too, but by the time I got to the third King, I said forget it. My head was spinning. Couldn’t he find a more common name?”
As others around the table murmured their agreement, Cameron rested his arm on the back of Gabrielle’s chair and toyed with her ponytail. In all her years of dating, she recalled one or two men who tried to play in her hair. She had objected then, but with Cameron, she didn’t resist.
His gesture seemed natural and genuinely comforting, as the group looked for him to further explain the Jamieson lineage. “I agree it’s frustrating, but it wasn’t unusual for a name to be passed down from one generation to another. As researchers, sometimes that’s our only clue. It gets crazy when you have brothers and sisters naming their children after their grandparents. That was common among Whites back then.”
Gabrielle would never say this out loud, but Cameron’s intellect really impressed her. Although she graduated summa cum laude, she didn’t try to retain everything she learned in her studies or from her travels. Instead, she thrived on memorizing and studying Scriptures as a challenge to herself. Cameron’s gift was definitely from God.
“Denise and I have tried to pick up where my deceased sister left off, but someone told us to follow the slaveholder,” Queen explained.
Cameron nodded. “That’s a good rule when you’re tracking the enslaved woman because sometimes she’s sold with her mother. But Paki and Elaine’s children were born free. As far as I can see, only your eleventh great-grandfather gave up his freedom for Sashe. Mind you, for a free Black man to surrender his God-given rights at the mercy of a slaveholder, that was not a mindless decision. Can you imagine how much tongue biting he had to do so that he wouldn’t be sold away?”
That’s love. Gabrielle sighed. She couldn’t imagine a greater love than for a man to give up his pride for the woman he loved.
“I so loved the world that I gave My one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life,” God reminded her of John 3:16, correcting her thinking.
Gabrielle swallowed and refocused. Yes, Lord. She closed her eyes. Help me never to forget about Your ultimate sacrifice on the cross, she silently prayed.
Opening her eyes, it was a shock to see Cameron staring at her. She frowned. “What?”
“Romantic?” Cameron asked, as the others watched.
“Ah, yeah,” she stuttered with her mind still on the Lord’s chastening of her thoughts.
“Well, our people must have had some crazy love to survive the death trap of slavery,” Denise added. “We found a letter written by Robert Jamieson Jr., but we couldn’t read it. My eyes and mind were strained from trying to decipher the alphabet.”
Her brothers agreed.
“Do you have it now?” Cameron asked.
Nodding, Denise stood. “Let me get it.”
While she was gone, one of the twins spoke up. “We tried our hand on this tree and found some Jamiesons we thought could have been related, but they were White.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re not related to us. An enumerator would take the information, and it was up to what he or she saw that was recorded. If you were dark skinned, you were hands down deemed Black. If you were fair skinned, he marked Mulatto, to keep you in your place. However, if you were light enough and could pass as White, some did get by,” Cameron
explained.
“I, for one, am not mad at them.” Lacey raised her hand in the air. “There wouldn’t have been a need for affirmative action programs if hiring managers didn’t self-appoint themselves ‘enumerators’ and noted one’s skin color when making a determination about granting a position. Whenever coworkers inquire about my skin or hair, I shock them when I say I have ancestors who were White slaveholders or overseers.”
Lacey smirked devilishly. “You should see their faces. But the kicker is when I inform them if I have White blood in me, they’d better check their tree because Black blood would surely pop up.”
Denise returned with a copy of a handwritten letter and sat at the table. Peering over her shoulder, Gabrielle squinted. “Goodness. You need a microscope.”
“Got it,” Cameron said and went to his computer bag. After a few minutes, he produced a magnifying glass.
“You come prepared,” Queen said through Skype.
He grinned and scanned over the document. After a few minutes, Cameron slowly shook his head. “Unfortunately, I can’t read this either. I’ll have to send it to a friend of mine who studies paleography.”
“May I see it?” Gabrielle slid the document closer to her.
Eying her suspiciously, Cameron handed the tool over to her. She accepted, ignoring his curious expression. It was obvious from the yellowing of the paper that the letter could be over a hundred years old.
Squinting, even with the magnifying glass, Gabrielle read the contents silently. She didn’t realize others were waiting on her until Denise called her name.
“Huh? Oh, sorry. I can make this out.” Gabrielle focused. “This is a letter from H.S. Jemison. It appears he’s heading to an army camp in Florida and asking for one hundred and fifty dollars. He was in the army before and said it was rough without a boy or Negro,” she said, giving an overall view before reading from the document: “‘I need him and am not afraid of him running away from me. I know how to manage him. I can learn from the Negroes. Jarrett says he will never go back to the … anymore.’”
Gabrielle paused from reading and interjected. “I guess that’s the name of the young boy.” Then she went on, “‘I’m afraid if he does, the Yanks will get him …’” She continued deciphering the rest of the letter.
Cameron was obviously impressed. “How can you read that?”
Denise answered for her. “I forgot my girl studied paleography at Howard. It was part of the linguistics program.”
“What kind of graph?” one of the twins asked.
Meeting Cameron’s stare was a mistake. Gabrielle tried to pull away. It took determination, but she broke his spell and faced everyone, who seemed amused at her and Cameron’s interaction.
“It’s called paleography,” Cameron answered for her. “It’s the study of ancient handwriting … and you never thought about researching your family tree? Amazing.”
He didn’t skip a beat, turning back to the monitor and Queen. “The letter is signed 1861. The location is Alabama and the spelling of the name is off, which isn’t unusual.”
Genealogy was a team effort, and Gabrielle didn’t realize it until that moment. Although she deciphered the missive, Cameron gave his hypothesis.
Soon the discussion turned to other missing links in the family. Queen suggested a family reunion.
“Sounds like a plan,” Cameron said absentmindedly. “They served as a gathering for ex-slaves throughout the South.”
“We definitely need a Jamieson reunion. Everyone from our eleventh great- grandparents,” Denise piped in.
“Paki and Elaine had five sons. Besides Parker, there were Aasim, Fabunni, Orma, and Sarda,” Cameron advised. “Two lines are represented here, Parker and Orma.”
“That means there are three missing links,” a twin said.
“Actually, there are two,” Queen said. “Fabunni’s grandson ‘passed’ until his descendants assumed their race was White. We know where they are, but they’re in politics and have gone to great lengths to separate themselves from their African heritage.”
Cameron shrugged. “It happens all the time, but it doesn’t change that drop of Black blood.”
At that moment, Jesus dropped into Gabrielle’s spirit the truth about His blood and how it will never lose its power or strength. Keeping that revelation to herself, she secretly thanked God for faithfully renewing her mind with His Word.
Chapter Eighteen
Cameron shook hands with the twins and their reserved younger brother, Zaki, who barely said two sentences to him during the entire visit. Denise and Lacey made up for his coolness with their warm hugs, as he and Gabrielle said their goodbyes.
“We all have to get together again soon,” Cameron said sincerely.
“Count me out,” Zaki said. “At least my father had remarried when my two other sisters were born. It’s shameful that my father cheated on my mother with their mother.” He refused to say Ace’s and Kidd’s names. “I want nothing to do with them. Good night.” Getting in his car, he drove off.
One of the twins defended his brother’s actions, “I was at the place mentally where Zaki is now, so I won’t apologize for his attitude. It will take time.”
Cameron was silent. He recalled that Parke had similar words about Kidd needing time. Then he thought about Kidd’s mother. Did Sandra know about Samuel’s marital status at the time of her affair? That was none of his business.
“I’ll be praying for a change of heart,” Gabrielle softly offered, coming to Cameron’s aid. He didn’t realize he had zoned out.
Once he and Gabrielle were in the car, she stretched. “I’m glad you came.”
“Finally, I’m appreciated.” He snorted. “On second thought, is it because I’m the designated driver?” he teased.
“Well, now that you’ve mentioned it.” She gave him an enchanting smile before adding, “Actually, you’re good company.”
“You’re the amazing one. SO, on top of the rest of your impressive qualities, you can read ancient handwriting. Gabrielle Dupree, I have never met a woman like you.” And he meant it. She was special, and for the first time in his life—Cameron Jamieson felt out of his league in a woman’s presence.
“Thank you.”
Pulling out of the parking space, Cameron turned up the music. In no time, Gabrielle drifted off to sleep. About thirty minutes into the drive, his phone played a tune, indicating it was Parke. He hurried to answer before Gabrielle woke up. He liked the feel of her trusting him with her life on the road. If only he could get her to trust him with her feelings. If she were to give up her deep reservations about him.
“Yeah,” he answered lowly.
“How did it go?”
“Actually, it went well. Everyone was warm, except for the youngest brother who had resentment written all over his face. He followed that up with his verbal bitterness.”
Parke didn’t say anything right away. “Yeah, that’s the risk we run in genealogy. Some don’t want the family connection because of the past. I respect that. So where are you, and why can I barely hear you?”
Cameron stole a quick glance at Gabrielle, then back at the road. “It’s an hour later on the East Coast, remember? Gabrielle dozed off and I don’t want to wake her.”
“Really?” Parke teased. “Does she live close to you?”
“Not far—in Mission Hill.”
“Have you made up your mind about her?”
Cameron exhaled and lowered his voice even more. “She’s the one, bro. She is definitely the one.”
“A church girl, imagine that. You might as well give up like the rest of us. If you’re falling in love with her, then you’re going down, my man.”
“Talk to you later.” Cameron grinned and disconnected. He would put up with his two brothers soon enough when they arrived later in the week to help him drive back to St. Louis.
A church girl. How ironic that all his life he avoided mixing religion with other aspects of his life. Now, the woman who had s
tolen his heart wouldn’t let him avoid the subject. If he wanted Gabrielle, then he would have to go toe-to-toe with her. He wasn’t concerned about losing, which was very unlikely. No way would he accept that he could lose her over something so simple.
“Seek My kingdom first and My righteousness, and many things will be given to you as well,” the Lord whispered. “Read My Word in Luke 12.”
Cameron wasn’t a heathen, but he wouldn’t consider himself a saint either. Still, he knew without a doubt that was the voice of God. Despite his own physical and mental strength, he shivered in God’s presence.
Meditating on what God had said, he parked in front of Gabrielle’s apartment. Before waking her, Cameron stole a few minutes to soak in her beauty inside and out. Only God knew what Gabrielle would decide about their relationship. Only God knew when Cameron would lay eyes on her again.
Releasing a frustrated grunt, he reluctantly nudged her awake. Gabrielle stirred and her thick lashes fluttered. She met his eyes with a dreamy smile. As a yawn escaped, she covered her mouth. “Sorry. I’m not good company.”
“You don’t have to say a word around me. Just knowing you’re close satisfies me.” Cameron got out and walked around to her side of the car. She stepped out in a drowsy state, like a defiant child wanting more sleep. He steadied her, while gathering her purse and tote bag.
With his arm wrapped around her, she slumped against him. He escorted her to the front door. “Okay, sleepyhead.”
She blinked and he waited until he thought she was coherent.
“Gabrielle, I really want us to try. I’m game. You don’t have to fly to St. Louis. I’ll come to you.”
Her dreamy eyes focused on him. “I’ll pray on it, Cameron.” Standing on tiptoes, she brushed a kiss on his lips and grabbed her stuff.
“What was that?” he asked, panting for more.
“A kiss, silly,” she declared with a giggle. Then she turned to insert her key into the entrance door of her building.
Cameron steadied her hand. “Here’s mine.” Without any resistance, he cuddled her in his arms and kissed her until she pulled back.