CHAPTER SEVEN
Jayson listened to a stock market report on the radio as he backed into the thirty-feet-long driveway at his home and parked the car. He had to drive the car forward and back it up again to make sure he had left enough room for Renee to have a clear shot at her side of the garage. He turned off the radio but couldn’t recall what he had just heard. Did the woman with the British accent just report that the Dow Jones had been up or down by twenty-nine points? It didn’t matter. He certainly had more important issues on his mind.
All during his crawl home through rush hour traffic his thoughts had repeatedly returned to his conversation with Tenika. Apparently, Leslie, unsuccessful over the past month at reaching him on the telephone, had decided to risk an unannounced visit on his turf. The woman had some nerve, Jayson thought, coming to his office after they had agreed she would never do such a thing. She had embarrassed him and diminished the respect a loyal member of his staff held for him. Jayson turned off his vehicle’s air conditioner and speculated about the woman’s reasons for wanting to see him. Of course, he guessed, there could be only one thing she wanted.
Jayson reached for the garage door opener attached to the car’s sun visor but hesitated. Although he had no additional appointments scheduled, he wondered if he might have to leave the house shortly. Should he put the car in the garage? If he did leave the car outside with the windows up it could be over a hundred degrees inside when he returned to it later. He sat in the car, unsure of what to do next.
He watched his neighbor’s buxom, flirtatious, seventeen-year-old daughter saunter to the curb to check the mailbox. She wore a halter-top blouse and a pair of denim shorts. Her appearance made Jayson uncomfortable so he averted his eyes by checking his watch. An accusation of being the big bad black wolf leering at some white teenage girl would be the last thing he needed.
It was a little after five-thirty but Tenika hadn’t called him yet to report that Leslie had left the office. That meant Tenika’s attempt to cancel his five o’clock appointment—a client’s corroborating witness who had to be interviewed—had been unsuccessful. It would be at least another half-hour before he would hear from his office manager. Jayson closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He had a brutal headache. He finally got out of the car and squinted under the glare of the hot sun.
“Hello, Mr. Cook,” the neighbor girl called. She waved.
“Hi, Doris,” Jayson said. He waved back.
“Kinda warm for this time of year,” she declared. Too warm for you to be in that suit.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Jayson agreed.
He turned his back to the girl, opened the car’s backseat door, grabbed his briefcase, and slammed both car doors closed. Thankfully, Doris headed back to her home. Jayson walked to the edge of his driveway and inspected the work on the front yard the lawn care crew had performed earlier that day. The thick grass had been cut and the underground sprinklers had come on during the afternoon. People in the town of Belmont took pride in their lawns, Jayson recognized. Well, he concluded, the Cook’s property could compare favorably to any home in the neighborhood.
As he approached his front door Jayson noticed that Jennifer had left her bicycle in the walkway, all but blocking the entrance. He had told her more than once in the past not to do that. Already irritated about the intruder at his office, he felt himself getting a little annoyed at his daughter.
He entered the front door and immediately smelled Magdalena’s cooking. He remembered he had mentioned to her a few days ago that he and his family enjoyed the fancy recipes from her many cooking classes, for which he and Renee had paid. What had they eaten the previous night, fillets of lamb with onion sauce? However, sometimes, he had suggested to Magdalena, he just wanted something simple for dinner like hamburgers or baked chicken.
Although he had made the statement to Magdalena as deftly as he could, adding it would mean less work for her, he could still see the slight expression of hurt on his proud housekeeper’s face. He understood that Magdalena’s personal unhappiness contributed to her desire to keep busy, hence her near obsession with making Renee, Jennifer and him happy. Nevertheless, just as at work, he could pull rank sometimes and simply issue a directive that had to be followed.
Jayson entered the house and checked the stack of unopened mail on the table next to the door. Just the usual: bills, appeals for money from charities, and catalogues. He walked through the huge living room and winced at the sight of some buffoonish cartoon characters on the forty-two-inch television screen chasing each other. He counted four of Jennifer’s dolls, along with various accessories, on the floor in front of the TV, but no Jennifer. Because of the open design of the house, with no walls separating the kitchen from the living room, he could see Magdalena putting dishes into the dishwasher. She had her back to him. “Um, Magda?” he called from a few feet away so not to startle her.
She turned, straightened up and smiled. “Señor, er, Mr. Cook, you are home early today.” She clapped her hands. “It’s good. Dr. Cook be home soon too so family eat dinner together.” She pointed at the warming tray on the stove and beamed. “I make you hamburgers—special recipe, and coleslaw—homemade, and french fries. You like, yes?”
Jayson smiled and nodded. “Yes. It looks very tasty. Thank you, Magda.”
“I move everything so family eat outside, yes?”
Jayson noticed that Magdalena had already set the kitchen table for dinner rather than the table on the deck. “No, we’ll just eat inside.”
“You have tea some more with Duchess Jennifer?”
Jayson shook his head. “No, I have, um, some work to do in the office upstairs, so Connie’s taking my five o’clock appointment.” He inspected the kitchen and spotted Jennifer’s drawing pad and a box of crayons on the breakfast table. “Speaking of the Duchess,” he said, “where is she? Her bike’s in the walkway.” He pointed at the table. “And I bet that’s not your pad and crayons. And how come the TV’s on and her dolls are all over the floor? I don’t think they’re watching those stupid cartoons.”
Magdalena stared at the carpeted floor. “Um, she upstairs in her room. I tell her pick up her things already.”
“And?”
“She say okay but she not do yet.”
“Is that right?” Jayson replied, feeling himself getting even more annoyed. He did an about-face and marched to the stairs. As his foot touched the first step he called back into the kitchen. “How many times did you tell her to pick up her things, Magda?”
“Um, not so sure, Mr. Cook.”
Jayson removed his foot from the first stair. “How many times, Mag-da-len-a?”
“Um, maybe two or three times.”
“It can’t be both.”
“Three times.”
Jayson walked back into the kitchen. “Three times?” He put his hands on his hips. “And just how long have you had to tell her to do something more than once before she does it—excuse me, not do it?”
Magdalena shrugged. “Mr. Cook, please. She a good girl but she just at that age.”
“What age?” Jayson said, raising his voice a little. “She’s six years old.” He pointed at her. “Magda, Dr. Cook and I made it very clear to you and Jennifer that when we’re not here, you’re in charge. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
Jayson saw the hurt in the woman’s eyes. He stepped closer to her, and softened his facial expression and tone. She could be so sensitive these days. He had to be careful about her feelings. “That’s because you have our total trust. You know that.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Jayson sighed. “I think you and my wife have been spoiling Jennifer.” He paused and pointed at himself. “But I haven’t said much about it.” He turned back around. “But enough’s enough. I’m putting a stop to it right now.” He bounded up the stairs. “Somebody’s forgotten who’s the child and who’s the adult,” he mumbled. He reached the top of the stairs. “Jennifer!” he barked.
J
ennifer opened the door to her room and slowly emerged into the hall. She wore a pair of jeans and an orange T-shirt. Usually she greeted him with a big smile and jumped into his arms when he came home from work, but apparently detecting anger in his voice, she decided to try humility. “Yes, Daddy?”
Jayson opened his arms. “First a hug and kiss before I have to be mean. C’mon.”
Taking slow steps, Jennifer inched down the stairs. She stopped at the bottom two stairs, extended her arms and received a hug and kiss from her father. “I was just gonna pick up my things right now.”
“Um-hmm, you were, huh?” Jayson said. “Never mind that. Mrs. Lopez told me she asked you three times to do just that and you didn’t. Is that right?”
Jennifer nodded.
“Answer me in words, girl.”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry. Tell Mrs. Lopez,” Jayson said. “You’ve been taking advantage of that nice lady and I won’t have it another minute. Now move your behind right now, pick up your stuff in the kitchen, turn off that TV, and get your bike out of the front walkway.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Jennifer replied, sticking out her bottom lip. She trudged down the last two stairs and passed him.
Jayson walked behind her. “The kitchen first.”
Jennifer entered the kitchen. When Magdalena saw them she quickly grabbed a wet, soapy towel and wiped furiously at the counter top of the center island. “You eat now or wait for Dr. Cook?”
Jayson put his hands on his hips again and ignored the question. Instead he addressed his pouting daughter as she slowly dropped crayons into a large box. “There’s gonna be a few changes around here, young lady. From now on, when Mrs. Lopez tells you to do something, you do it right away the first time, you hear?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Jayson looked at Magdalena. “What’s for dessert?”
“Um, butterscotch pudding.”
“Well,” Jayson said, “no dessert for Jennifer. Not today.”
Just then Jayson heard the garage door open. He went to the door connecting the kitchen and the garage, opened it and waited for Renee. Within a few seconds she stepped into the house and they exchanged a brief kiss.
“You’re home early today,” Renee said.
“Yeah,” Jayson replied. She looked so beautiful and sexy to him, even in a powder blue business suit. Her entrance conjured up memories of past years; before Jennifer, before Magdalena, when their passion drove them to immediately make love a few feet from whatever door she or he entered upon arriving home from work. However, at the moment, he felt irritated, uncomfortable—and sexually frustrated. Leslie’s visit suddenly popped back into his mind. He also felt afraid, afraid of the damage the “slutty-looking woman,” as Tenika described her, could do to his family if she ran her mouth. He forced himself to concentrate on his wife. It had been over a week since he and Renee had made love. That’s what he needed—some nail-digging, hair-pulling, shoulder-biting sex.
Jennifer dropped her box of crayons on the table and ran to her mother in tears. “Mommy, Daddy said I can’t have dessert today.”
Renee kneeled to hug her daughter and raised her head to question Jayson. “What’s this all about?”
Jayson became angry. “She’s just trying to divide us, which isn’t going to work.” He tapped Jennifer on the shoulder and pointed with his thumb. “Get in that living room, pick up your things, turn off that TV and then go outside and get your bike like I told you.” His voice grew louder with each command.
“Please, Mommy,” Jennifer begged.
Renee widened her eyes, obviously surprised at her husband’s rare tone. “I don’t think you better cross your father, Jennifer.”
“Go do what I tell you!” Jayson yelled.
Jennifer whimpered and bolted out of the kitchen.
“And don’t forget this stuff on the table when you’re done,” Jayson added.
Magdalena tossed her towel into the sink and dashed toward her room. “Excuse me, please. I have to go check something.”
Renee whipped her head from left to right, retracing the opposite directions Jennifer and Magdalena had taken and snickered. “Well, royal master of the house, you sure know how to clear a room. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Jayson said. “The girl’s been taking advantage of Magda; not doing what she’s told.” He pointed at himself. “I drew the line at a forty-year-old woman telling a six-year-old girl to do something three times without results.”
“Okay,” Renee said, “but did you have to yell at her?”
“She’ll get over it,” Jayson replied. “You and Magda—and let me add your parents, too, you’ve been spoiling her for too long. When she’s a teenager and none of you can do anything with her you’ll regret it, but I bet I won’t have any problems with her.”
Renee put her arms around her husband and squeezed. “My, you’re in a bad mood. Not a good day at work, I take it.”
Jayson felt her embrace melt away his anger. After ten years of marriage she could still warm his heart and soul with just a touch. “I’ve had better days,” he admitted. His voice had become soft again.
Renee pointed at the kitchen table. “Then sit down. I’m afraid it’s going to get worse before it gets better.” She waved a newspaper in the air.
Jayson took it from her. “What’s this?”
“It’s the latest edition of the Boston Courier.”
“Really?” Jayson said. “It wasn’t in the mail with the other stuff—and don’t we usually get it on Saturdays?”
Renee nodded. “Yeah. This is a newsstand copy a colleague from work gave me. “Look at it.”
Jayson placed the paper on the kitchen table and scanned the front page. “So what?” he asked, examining the paper. “What’s the city council’s fighting over the Boston Police Department’s hiring policies got to do with—oh shit!” He read the headline to the right of the city council story aloud: “Black lawyer takes side of racist again.”
“That’s the one,” Renee said.
Jayson sat down and read, occasionally sharing the news. “…not the first time Cook has sided against blacks.…advocated for the Church of the True Savior, a white supremacist group.…hasn’t lived in the black community for years.…could not be reached for comment.” He stood and slammed the paper on the table. “Those idiots wouldn’t know the truth if it bit them on the ass.” His attention was diverted when Jennifer returned carrying an armful of dolls and accessories. The stony-face girl climbed the stairs without saying a word.
“Go wash your hands for dinner, please,” Renee said.
“First put away your dolls,” Jayson added, “then get your pad and crayons off the table and put them away too.”
Renee nodded. “Then wash your hands for dinner, honey.” She faced Jayson. “Did a reporter from the Courier call you for a comment?”
Jayson frowned. “Yeah, some reporter left a short message on the voice mail at the office last week. I called him back but he wasn’t in. He wasn’t trying very hard to reach me, I bet.”
“What are you going to do now?”
Jayson shrugged. “What can I do? The damage is done.” He checked the clock on the wall in the kitchen and waved his hand. “The hell with it. Let’s eat. Um, I’m expecting an important call from Tenika I’ll have to take. She’ll call because she knows I don’t like texting anything even remotely sensitive.”
Renee touched his arm. “You’re all tense and crabby. What is it, darling?”
Jayson smiled. “It’s just work. I’m sorry.”
“Anything I can do?”
“Now, no. Tonight, plenty.”
Renee put her arms around him again and pecked him several times on the lips. “Okay. How many times?”
“Where’s the calculator?”
Renee put her hand over her mouth and giggled like a newlywed. “It’s a deal.” She abruptly frowned. “Oh, I better give you all the bad news.”
Jayson took one step back. “There’s more?”
Renee nodded. “I only worked a short shift today, then I went to the church to help with the cleanup from the yard sale. You know Dr. Geter is in Jamaica on vacation.”
“Yeah, mon!” Jayson quipped, with a mock accent.
“Well, we have a guest preacher this Sunday.” Renee stopped and bit her lower lip.
“Yeah, some guy from Detroit, I think,” Jayson said.
Renee shook her head. “I guess he had a death in the family and can’t make it. Reverend Snow told me that Reverend Isaiah Bradley will be preaching at our church this Sunday. The arrangements were made before the Courier article came out.”
Jayson grimaced. “The father of the girl my client’s accused of killing?”
“Yeah,” Renee answered, “and his sermon theme is, ‘The devil you know.’”
Jayson put a sad smile on his face, lowered his head and whispered. “Please don’t do this to me, Lord.”
* * * * *
Guilt by Association Page 8