"He palms the pea. There's no sense in looking for it, guys." The two punks looked warily up from the card table set up in Piotrowski Park.
Chuck smiled genially, enjoying the wind blowing through his comb over. "Really. Walk away from this nineteen year old thief while you still have your wallets."
One of the kids turned back to the scowling "thief" whose hands were strategically placed on the little walnut halves. The guys looked at each other shrugged, and walked off.
Good thing they didn't kick his ass, Chuck thought, though really his little brother could use an ass kicking. Dad had been the gentlest of men, but perhaps if he'd used the belt once or twice...
Jimmy was looking daggers at Chuck. "The hell, Chuck, you come over to the park to harass me? Don't you have to go back to Tucson or wherever?"
Chuck shook his head. "You know Jimmy, first year associates don't make much money. I put out a lot for a plane ticket to come home for your graduation ceremony, and Mom is still in tears over at the high school wondering where you are. She was so thrilled that after your third senior year, you actually were finishing up."
"And there are such nice kids over there. I have no idea why you refused to socialise with them, and insist on hanging out with a thirty-nine year old ex-convict." Chuck's face hardened. "He's your sidekick, really. Your jailbird sidekick."
"Marco isn't a jailbird." Jimmy's eyes widened and his brows came together. Sure, he was a handsome kid. Chuck reluctantly could see why Melissa had been so entranced...but...shit.
"Marco did a four month bid, which was in County, and then he did nineteen months out of a five to seven year stretch at Joliet for some bull-"
"I don't care about Marco." Chuck had passed the pudgy con-artist at his own card table as he'd entered the park. Disgusting. "You could have anything you wanted, Jimmy. You had higher SATs than I did. Straight D's when you bothered to attend classes but-"
"Chuck, get over it. Get over yourself. You're just pissed still about your so-called fiancée." Jimmy folded up the card table and lit a Marlboro.
"But she loved you. Melissa loved you, and you-Mom loved you-Dad-" Chuck gritted his teeth. "You destroy lives, Jimmy."
Melissa had been bartending at a nightclub, working her way through dental hygienist school-she'd gotten Jimmy a summer job as a host, and Jimmy had taken job applications that prospective waiters had turned in, and used the Social Security numbers for-oh it had been horrible.
But Melissa, somehow, had blamed Chuck for that...and all that had happened while the engagement was still ensuing.
Before the horrific discovery. "Chuck you have to get Jimmy a lawyer. He's going to be my future brother-in-law." Yes, and more.
Even before the Social Security number-to-credit card fraud charges, Jimmy had "lost" a receipts deposit that he was taking to the bank. The next time, the nightclub manager had warily given another employee the envelope to take, but it was discovered at the bank that the envelope contained newspaper cuttings...that, fortunately had not been pinned on Jimmy.
But the local constabulry, and the FBI had fallen hard on Jimmy, and they had not cared that he was only fifteen years old... Chuck had had to work up a sweat, and hire defense attorneys as well...before Mom AND Melissa would stop nagging him.
And then, after saving Jimmy from the hoosegow-again, Chuck had found out how friendly Melissa and Jimmy really were.
"Jimmy, you had no business with-what happened-with Melissa." Chuck couldn't even articulate the horror, the resentment.
"Yeah, sure, but what were you doing engaged to someone just out of high school anyway, Chuck? You wanted someone to dominate...to lecture." Jimmy nodded self-righteously.
Chuck shook his head. He'd had to turn down acceptance at Princeton and the University of Chicago because there was no money-Jimmy had wiped out the store with his thefts, and then of course Dad died.
Chuck had gone to the local state school, and lived at home, and sure, he'd begun dating Melissa when she was a high school senior...and Jimmy had been no real threat then, being as he was still in middle school.
But then, just as Chuck was graduating from law school, and Melissa was well established as a dental hygienist...the three thousand dollar white dress purchased, the flowers, and church rented-and what a pain in the ass that had been. The McGill's were agnostics, and so many chapels had said, "We are not a wedding hall."
But they'd gotten a church, were going to get married...and then Chuck found the receipt from the clinic-Melissa had aborted a child...Jimmy's! And to think they-he and Melissa were saving themselves for the wedding!
As if reading Chuck's mind, Jimmy's eyes rolled. He pocketed the walnut shells and picked up his card table. "Chuck, Melissa and I-it was just a thing. You can have her back...she's yours if you want her." Jimmy smiled. Slippin' Jimmy. "I can persuade her."
"What, as if Melissa's a piece of Kleenex you're done with?" Chuck tried not to shake. "Goddamn you, Jimmy...And you were also involved, I understand with the maid of honor?" It had been some sort of disgusting daisy chain.
Jimmy shook his head. "But see, Chuck, that's why Melissa didn't like you. You were so focused on the costs of the wedding, bitching about reimbursing the tuxes and bridesmaid dresses, what a slut she was...you have all this crap going on."
Chuck lunged at Jimmy and his younger brother held up the folded card table in defense. Chuck finally threw his hands down. The last time he'd actually slapped Jimmy was when the kid was seven and Chuck sixteen-Jimmy had traded Chuck's Rolex, the one he'd inherited from Uncle Hugh-for a dirt bike.
Or had it been a Cartier watch? It had not rested on Chuck's bureau for long. Even then, Chuck had known to lock the door of his room, but Jimmy could wink at a lock, and it was kaput. And Mom and Dad swore Jimmy was innocent. They loved Jimmy.
Everyone respects me, but they love Jimmy. Why? Mom will be so upset if I hit the little shit.
There was no use in trying now. Chuck threw his hands down and stared off into space. Across the park, Jimmy's friend Marco was behind a similar card table, involved in a three card monte game. Chuck lifted his cell to call the authorities, and then realized that the mark, sitting eagerly across the table, was a Second District patrolman. Ignoring Jimmy, Chuck went home.