Tender Touch (13 page)

“No way. He wasn’t going to stick his neck
out in an election year. Besides, once those other congressmen
realized just how much Medicaid money we were drawing down, that
was all she wrote.” Franklin lifted both hands in the air.

“We were able to increase our Medicaid
allocation quite nicely over the past six years. Too bad.” Mike
wore a pained expression, like a child who’d lost a favorite
toy.

“Yeah. Calloway was a genius.” Franklin
referred to the former secretary of the Department of Health and
Hospitals with a tinge of awe in his tone. “Only a few understand
those Medicaid regs like him. He figured out how to get more
Medicaid money.”

Testor nodded. “The health care industry
took off.”

What he did not need to say was the private
health care businesses raked in millions of dollars in Medicaid
money and made their owners rich in a few short years. Now it
seemed the party was over, thanks to a vigilant congressman and his
staff, who realized what a huge loophole had done to the national
budget. As taxpayers complained about the out-of-control welfare
spending, Congress learned that a few states had parlayed
nonspecific wording in the regulations into huge increases. They
were shocked and not a little embarrassed. The benefactors were
evenly divided between liberals and conservatives who owned
businesses that profited.

“Well, we can kiss that gravy train
goodbye,” Franklin said with a grunt.

“Maybe, but we can shift our focus so that
we don’t lose much in the long run. We’ve still got home health,
nursing homes and the psychiatric beds, you know.” Mike’s mood
lightened. He sawed at the meat and put another small chunk in his
mouth.

“I guess so. We’re not having much trouble
getting approval for admissions. But Chester Howard is a real
bloodhound about waste in state government. What if he—”

“You worry too much, Steve.”

Franklin glanced over his shoulder. “Howard
is eventually going to figure out that gaps in the system allow for
less than meticulous decision making when it comes to
eligibility.”

“So what? Most of those are clinical
decisions based on professional judgment. If your doctor says a kid
needs sixty psychiatric inpatient days, who’s to say he’s wrong?”
Mike continued to eat with gusto.

“Yeah, but in some places extensions have
been given so a kid has been in the hospital nine months. Longer in
some instances.” Franklin lowered his voice even more.

“Give me a break. Some little criminal who’s
been stealing or selling crack is locked away. Nobody is going to
complain. Trust me.” Mike waved his fork for emphasis.

“I know but—”

Testor put down his fork. “Steve, we go back
what—fifteen years? I swear you’re getting downright timid in your
old age. Relax.”

“The climate has never been like this
before, Mike. All that reform talk wasn’t just for the campaign
this time. Governor Foster means it.”

Mike chuckled. “The Department of Health and
Hospitals is the largest agency in this state. And it’s such a
complicated bureaucracy, it’ll take them the next four years just
to find out which end is up.”

“You’ve got a point,” Franklin said. His
frown smoothed out a bit.

“There are so many sections, rules, policies
and stuff it’s like a jigsaw puzzle ten miles wide with ten million
pieces.” “And by the time you get one part put together and try to
see the whole picture, another part of the thing changes. All we
need to do is step carefully and don’t get skittish.”

“And Lang? He’s more of a wild card than I
like.” Franklin’s frown deepened again.

“He has his uses.” Mike wore an unpleasant
smirk. “Bill is going to be more of a help to use than even he
realizes. Let him think he’s in control.”

“Lang is no dummy, Mike. He could figure it
out.”

Mike shook his head with a look of disdain.
“We’ll throw him a few crumbs. They don’t need much in the way of
money before they rush off to buy flashy clothes and a fancy
car.”

Franklin barked out a harsh guffaw. “Yeah,
you got a point there. Man, did you see him strutting around in his
silk suit the other day?”

“But remember, they do have their uses
nowadays, Steve. They still have their uses.” Mike raised his glass
of iced tea laced with gin to Franklin in a mock toast.

* * *

“You’ve been seen running around with some
young woman.” Oliver Knight got straight to the point. He stared at
Damon hard.

“I’m dating Jade Pellerin,” Damon said in a
taut voice.

They had hardly sat down in the elder
Knight’s large den before his father blurted out his gruff comment.
Damon was used to being grilled about the business during his
visits to check on his father, but this probing into his personal
life really grated. His parents never let him forget that they had
opposed his divorce from Rachelle. Her father and brothers ran the
most successful General Motors dealerships in the region. In
addition, they had a thriving equipment rental business. To them,
her affair was no more than a regrettable indiscretion of an
immature young woman.

“Pellerin... I know that name.” Oliver
rubbed his chin.

“Her father is Alton Pellerin, Dad.” Damon
felt a prick of irritation at himself. Out of habit, he began to
talk of her family. He’d always despised the preoccupation with
pedigree of the black upper crust, old money. What did it matter
who her parents were?

“Hmm, yes, of course. Had his start in real
estate. A few shotgun houses over in Easy Town. His daddy was a
yard man.” Oliver’s heavy black eyebrows formed two arches over his
deep-set eyes.

“What is this about the yard man?” Damon’s
mother came in and sat down in a billow of silk. The soft material
of the burnished gold lounge dress could be worn out to dinner with
ease.

Oliver gazed at his wife with a pointed
look. “We’re talking about Alton Pellerin, Marlene. Damon is dating
their youngest daughter.”

Marlene gave Damon her full attention. “Is
that so? Well.” She brushed back her soft layered hairstyle. “Well,
well. And where did you meet her?”

“She’s the top aid to Bill Lang in the
Department of Health and Hospitals. It looks like Gracie Street
Center will benefit from grant funds to serve at-risk populations,”
Damon said with resignation in his voice. This conversation was
inevitable but had come sooner than he’d hoped.

“Oh, she works for the state.” Marlene
pressed her lips together and let her comment speak for itself.

“In a very high-ranking position, Mother,”
Damon said in a sharp tone.

“Yes, well...” Marlene wore a stiff smile
that faded after a split second.

“Okay, let’s get this over with right now.”
Damon looked from her to his father.

“Oliver, do you know what your son is
talking about?” Marlene ignored his question and looked at her
husband. It was a habit she had when not pleased with the way she’d
been ad-dressed that she spoke to a third party.

“Mother, Jade Pellerin is intelligent,
attractive and a good person.”

“Yes, I’m sure she’s nice but...” Marlene
let her expression finish the thought. Jade’s family background was
unacceptable.

“I don’t need to trace her roots back to
some rich ancestor to know that she’s someone I want to be with.”
Damon spoke with force.

Marlene looked down at her manicured
fingernails. “I see.”

“Watch how you speak to your mother, young
man. I can tell this Pellerin girl is already having a bad
influence on you,” Oliver shot back at him with a scowl.

Damon pushed down the rise of anger in his
chest. “I’m no teenager in danger of hanging with the wrong
crowd.”

“You’re right of course, dear,” Marlene
said, cutting off her husband before he could respond. “I’m just
concerned about your happiness. You’ve moved in a certain circle
all your life. Your friends and family come from the same
background.”

“Which has nothing to do with making new
friends.” Damon heaved a sigh.

“Don’t take it so lightly, Damon. Having
experiences in common can become very important after the first
flush of romance dies.”

“Mother, I don’t see my circle, as you call
them, very much these days. And it’s in Jade’s favor that she
doesn’t fit the mold of those people,” Damon retorted.

“Don’t be silly. The boys you went to school
with are prominent men today.” Marlene lifted her chin. “And the
young women have certainly made names for themselves socially and
professionally.” She was quick to defend those she considered as
her social clan.

“They’re all snobs of the worst kind. And I
could tell you stories about some of their escapades that would
rival any Eddie hears down on Gracie Street.” Damon gave a wicked
laugh. “In fact, you could probably tell me things I don’t
know.”

“Now you’re being downright uncouth—”
Despite her words, Marlene had a gleam in her light brown eyes that
said he was right. But she would never admit it and give him
ammunition.

“The point is, son, this young woman may not
be right for you. Don’t let your hormones rule your head.” Oliver
broke in, impatient to drive home his thought on the matter.

“I’ll be the judge of that. And it won’t
have anything to do with her family tree.”

“I don’t know how much longer I’ve got on
this earth. I’d like to see at least one grandchild before I die.
And I’d like to know he’s got a solid foundation to build on in
this world.” Oliver spoke in a grave voice.

“Remember, Dad, I took you to your last
doctor’s appointment. You’re making remarkable progress. An exact
quote.”

“Smart-mouth kids,” Oliver grumbled.

Yet once again Damon was shaken by his
father’s reference to his own death. Damon had been leaning toward
a career in human services after taking several undergraduate
courses in social work and sociology. The field placements he’d
worked in a couple of social service agencies led him to discover a
love of making life better for others. Naturally his parents had
been appalled at this development. Only a deep sense of family
loyalty, especially after Trent rebelled and refused to join the
business, had brought him back to work with his father. And when
Oliver became ill, all thoughts of another career were pushed
aside. Damon had only mild regret. His work with Eddie and the
Gracie Street Center gave him much satisfaction.

“So don’t even try it. And no visit to the
stores this week, either.” Damon turned the tables on his father
and became the parent.

“Damn, doctor. He’s as much a quack as his
old man,” Oliver muttered.

Marlene cleared her throat. “Damon, we have
overstepped our bounds. You’re entitled to conduct your life as you
see fit.”

Oliver gaped at his wife. “Did I hear you
right?”

“Yes, dear. Damon is a grown man and can
make his own decisions without you second-guessing him.” Marlene
seemed to scold Oliver, as though she had not tried to
interfere.

“Me?” Oliver stared at her, speechless.

“I’d love to meet this remarkable young
lady. When can we get together? I think at the Century Club for
dinner would be just the thing.”

Damon felt a pinprick of suspicion. “Are you
serious?” The Century Club was sacrosanct to the black society of
Baton Rouge. Money alone was not enough to be approved as a member;
family background was more of a factor.

“Yes, talk to her soon. I’ll make the
reservations.” Marlene gave him a warm, maternal smile. “If she
means so much to you, I’m sure we’ll like her. Right, Oliver?”

“Uh-humph,” was his father’s only reply. He
shook his head.

“I’ll let you know.” Damon kissed her
forehead. “Mama, you can still surprise me.”

He felt a glimmer of hope that his parents
would see reason where Jade was concerned. If Marlene came around,
Oliver would give in without much of a struggle. When he left for
home, Damon felt a soaring lift of joy he had not felt for a long
time. A beautiful, desirable woman was now in his life. And a
battle with his family over their attempts to pick his mate seemed
a thing of the past. The grant would bring a welcome boost to the
Gracie Street Center, and Lang seemed to be a sincere brother
trying to help. Life had never been better.

* * *

“Shaena, will you stop grinning at me like
that,” Jade said. She sat down with a plate of low-fat gingerbread
squares.

The two friends had decided to eat in and
watch a movie for their Wednesday midweek get-together. Cold, wet
and windy weather made being inside with a nice fire going more
inviting than fighting traffic to get to a restaurant. They headed
over to Shaena’s elegant garden home, which was only ten minutes
from Jade’s condominium. Shaena had cooked a simple chicken stir
fry with vegetables. Now they settled in for dessert. Two steaming
mugs of coffee sat on an oak serving tray.

“I know you like a book, girl. When I saw
you and Damon together, I said to myself ‘Self, he’s the one!”’
Shaena popped a piece of gingerbread in her mouth.

“Do you have to be so obnoxious about being
right?” Jade nudged Shaena.

“Yes.” Shaena cackled. “Especially since you
were so biggity about how he didn’t mean anything to you, and you
weren’t impressed with him.”

“All right, okay.” Jade smiled. She was too
happy to really be irritated with anyone right now. “So maybe I was
trying to convince myself that I wasn’t attracted to him.”

“Honey, there was more electricity crackling
between you two than in a power plant. Now tell me everything,”
Shaena said with a gleam of interest in her eyes. She settled back
with her mug. “Start from the beginning. What does his place look
like? How long did it take for y’all to get in the groove?”