Still Guilty by Pat Simmons

Author:Pat Simmons
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Urban Books
Published: 2013-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

“It’s show time,” Parke yelled upstairs to Cheney and Kami. He crossed the living room to the front door before it rang again. He was looking forward to another game night, although it would mark one more family get-together without the acknowledgment of a son. Parke wasn’t a long-suffering man, and the unknown was taking a toll on his spiritual walk.

God had spoken James 1:4: But let patience have her perfect work, that you may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.

Sighing, Parke struggled to fully yield to God’s reprimand. Presently, he wanted to stew in his human displeasure. If he found one more gray hair on his thirty-six-year-old head, he would purchase a box of Just for Men then buy shares in the company. As he waited for the okay to prove or disprove that Gilbert’s adopted son was his biological heir, Parke welcomed his family as a respite from worrying.

Let patience have her perfect work, God repeated. Let her work!

“Yes, Lord. Please help me,” Parke said with a huff. He had little choice but to accept God’s chastisement. He quickly regrouped, so he could enjoy this time with his family.

According to Parke’s mother, the informal game night had become a traditional Friday family get-together since Parke and his brothers were snotty-nosed nuisances. As children, the Jamieson boys couldn’t wait for the end of the week—no chores, no school the following day, and no regularly scheduled bed time, courtesy of game night.

The rules were simple: no serious discussions of any kind for the next couple of hours. The board games were selected by majority votes. Educational and African-American themes were always encouraged. Now, three decades later, two married sons, one granddaughter, and no dog—despite Kami’s pleas—the get-togethers thrived on a monthly family night schedule. Tonight, Parke, Cheney, and Kami were the designated hosts.

The aroma of Cheney’s secret recipe for meatballs drifted in the air as Kami’s footsteps thundered down the stairs. As Parke opened the door, one boisterous greeting led the chorus of others.

“Hey, Parke. What’s up, man? Thanks for the invite,” Ellington said, slapping Parke on the back. “Sorry I’m empty handed this time, but after I innocently brought a bottle of Chardonnay a while back and you refused to take it, I figured, why waste my money? I will volunteer to wash the dishes.” He smirked, knowing they had purchased a Maytag built-in oversized capacity dishwasher.

Parke was about to remind his friend that his family’s choice of drink was Kool-Aid, but his father was on Ellington’s heels.

“Don’t you shut that door, PJ,” the elder Parke ordered jokingly as he and his wife, Charlotte, came in with bag-covered dishes.

Turning around, Ellington offered his help. “Oh, let me get that from you, Mrs. Jamieson.”

Thinking the coast was clear, Parke closed the door. The bell chimed. He opened it and greeted Josephine.

Cheney appeared from the kitchen, evidently using the back stairwell. She always claimed she was too tall to be cute, but tonight he begged to differ. Six feet wasn’t tall for a woman.

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