by Pat Simmons
Her steps were lighter when she returned to the car. “We have flowers!” She handed Aunt Tweet hers, then slid behind the wheel and continued up the driveway that led to the back patio.
“Sure are pretty,” Aunt Tweet said. Tabitha agreed. “Randolph used to send them to me all the time.”
There was that Randolph name again. Could she coax her aunt to open up about the past the same way Marcus had done so effortlessly? “Ah, what did Randolph look like?”
She wrinkled her forehead. “I can’t remember.”
Tabitha groaned. She craved more details. After parking the car, she walked around and helped her aunt. Lately, she seemed to be more unsteady on her feet.
Inside the kitchen, only a hint of the smoke lingered in the air. Tabitha took two vases from her cabinet, filled them with water, and gave Aunt Tweet the honor to arrange the bouquets while she called Marcus. “The flowers are beautiful…thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome. Are you coming to dinner?” He sounded hopeful.
“I’m beat—”
“But you have to eat,” he insisted. “Come on, Tab.” He chuckled.
She giggled at hearing a nickname her sisters used.
“Don’t forget, I know where you live,” he said, feigning a threat.
“Don’t remind me of the circumstances of why you know that.” She spun around to check on Aunt Tweet, who was fumbling with the door on Sweet Pepper’s kennel. “Let me call you back. The dog needs to go out.”
“By the time you call me back, I’ll be on your doorstep to pick you up.” He disconnected.
She helped Aunt Tweet with Sweet Pepper’s leash. While watching them walk the length of her patio and driveway, Tabitha had planned to warm up the leftovers in the refrigerator. She stretched, craving a long, hot bubble bath and climbing in bed afterward with her laptop. But Marcus’s alternate plan piqued her interest.
After about five minutes, Tabitha ushered the dog and her aunt back in the house just as Marcus drove up and parked. He stepped out and swaggered toward her with a fierce expression. It reminded her of his intimidating smirk the first time they’d met, but this time, his towering presence didn’t make her tremble with fear, but shiver with excitement.
“So you weren’t kidding about picking us up.”
“I have a soft spot for you and Aunt Tweet. You can even bring Sweet Pepper.” She didn’t move as he stepped closer. “You once said ‘try walking in your shoes.’ It’s time to switch pairs. I take bigger steps, so let me do this for you.”
They stared at each other until his puppy-dog expression won her over. “Okay. Who am I to turn down a free meal?”
He grinned. “Exactly.”
“Do you mind giving us a few minutes to freshen up?”
“I’m ready,” Aunt Tweet said, reminding them of her presence.
I don’t think so. Remnants of lunch at the adult care facility had stained her aunt’s blouse. “Give us five minutes,” Tabitha said to Marcus. She tried to limit her aunt climbing the stairs. Usually when they returned in the evening, Aunt Tweet stayed downstairs until bedtime.
He nodded, slipped his hands in his pockets and waited in the kitchen.
She hiked the stairs. In her bedroom, she ditched her suit, then slipped into a pair of jeans and an oversize T-shirt. Leaning over the bannister, she yelled downstairs, “You doing okay?”
“Umm-hmm.”
Great. Tabitha rushed inside Aunt Tweet’s room and rummaged through her closet for a top. Next, she grabbed shower gel and powder, then hurried downstairs to find her aunt in the pantry. She had opened a snack-size package of vanilla pudding and had it smeared all over her mouth and blouse.
Come on, give me a break, she thought. Couldn’t you have given me five minutes? Without saying what was on her mind, she guided her to the first-floor bathroom, cleaned her up, and removed her top.
Incidents such as this were evidence of why she couldn’t go to Marcus’s without advance notice. Tabitha could never know what her beloved aunt would do next to cause a delay. Getting to work in the morning was challenging enough. Marcus only saw the finishing touches on her aunt. He was clueless about what it took to get her to that point.
“Thank you,” Aunt Tweet said softly.
Tabitha kissed her aunt’s cheek. “You’re always welcome, Auntie. Always.” Her aunt’s unnecessary gratitude tamed Tabitha’s frustration.
She opted not to take the dog. After doing a final sweep of her kitchen to make sure everything was secure, she grabbed her purse and Aunt Tweet’s hand. “Sorry it took longer than expected,” she mumbled, already mentally exhausted.
“You all right?” He seemed genuinely concerned.
Evidently, she wasn’t hiding her distress too well. “Never ask a caregiver that unless you’ve got the time to listen.”
“I have time,” he said, escorting them to his car, then getting behind the wheel.
Tabitha didn’t share. Instead, she was quiet the short ride to his house. When they strolled through his front door, the aroma of food was like a sweet fragrance. “Whatever you cooked smells good.” Their stomachs rumbled at the same time.
“If it doesn’t taste good, I’ll owe you another dinner.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, then he squeezed her shoulder. She hadn’t realized how much she craved his touch.
The table was already set for three. There was no fancy china or stemware, but it was the thought that counted. “Thank you for the invitation,” she said as he pulled out her chair.
“Thank you for accepting.” He grinned. “After we eat, you can set up in the study, while Aunt Tweet and I play cards or watch television,” he said effortlessly as if he had it all planned out.
Oh no. In her haste, she had forgotten her laptop and told him so. “I hate to eat and run, but we have to leave.” She sighed and gritted her teeth. “I forgot I didn’t drive.”
“Here.” He lifted the keys off a hook and handed them to her to use his vehicle. “Relax. If you trust me, you can leave her with me and go get your work. But something tells me you don’t, so I guess you’ll hurry.”
He was right, but Tabitha wasn’t going to tell him that. “Do you always have a backup plan? Okay, I’ll go after we eat.”
“No, but I think I just started with you. Come on, you both are probably hungry.” Marcus gave thanks for the meal and asked the Lord to bless it.
He was charming, easy to talk to, but most importantly, he seemed to really listen, which was foreign to her, considering her past boyfriends had short attention spans. But this wasn’t a romantic relationship. She could see why he was a good businessman. His attentiveness was so personable toward her, but if Aunt Tweet stirred, his eyes darted in her direction.
“Watch it. A woman can get used to this,” Tabitha teased.
“Noted. I’m up for the challenge. Remember, even a caregiver needs a caregiver.”
And there was no doubt in her mind that Marcus would be a top-of-the-line caregiver to anyone. They chatted about family, and she told him about her sisters’ upcoming visit in a week.
“That’s the same weekend as Pasadena Hills’ Summer Kickoff Street Party.”
“I know. When we were younger, we couldn’t wait until the end of the school year for the street party.”
He smiled. “I can imagine you as a little girl, getting into all sorts of trouble.”
“Not with a big sister like Kym. She fulfilled her role as the oldest like a drill sergeant, and Rachel and I fell in line.”
Once they finished eating, he gave Tabitha time to go home for her work and come back. “You’re just like Kym, a taskmaster.”
“Let me know if I’m too hard on you,” he said softly. His forehead wrinkled with concern. “I’m trying to keep you on task, but I want you to relax some. Go while I clear the table.”
&nb
sp; “I didn’t mean that in a scolding way. It’s my dry sense of humor.” She smiled.
He nodded. “I’m starting to read your body language, so I’ll know when you’re joking.”
Aunt Tweet stood to help.
“Watch her. She’ll throw silverware in the trash.”
“Got it.” He winked. “Now, get going, Miss Knicely.”
She did as he suggested, and seconds later, Tabitha was behind the wheel of his car, adjusting his seat to fit her height and sniffing remnants of his cologne. It felt odd not to have Aunt Tweet as a passenger. Marcus was right. She didn’t know him well enough to trust him with her aunt, so she hurried.
When she returned, she looked closely at her aunt for signs of anything untoward. Aunt Tweet seemed fine. Tabitha breathed a sigh of relief. Her aunt had taught her never to let her guard down when it came to men, so Tabitha was taking baby steps with Marcus.
“I’ll show you to my home office.”
Following Marcus, she sucked in her breath when he separated wood double doors to reveal an executive office suite. The light-colored plush carpet complemented the built-in wood bookshelves, the massive wood desk, crown molding, and even the shutters accented a window seat. This room would be perfect for her in her house. “Wow. This is like a different world from the other parts of your house.”
“Yep.” He slipped his hands in his pants pockets and craned his neck to check on Aunt Tweet. “At work, I share the office with my brother, which I don’t mind,” he was quick to add, “but when I work from home, this is my space. Demetrius has a smaller version of this layout at his loft.” He pulled out the chair for her and she sat at his work space.
“Also”—he lowered his voice—“whether you think so or not, you’re doing a great job with your aunt.”
“Really?” Her shock escaped her mouth before she could catch it. Hearing his praise and her aunt thanking her in one day sparked a few tears to trickle down her cheek. Unexpectedly, Marcus leaned in and, without any hesitation, kissed her cheek.
“I think you needed that too.” He strolled to the doorway and left it cracked, allowing Tabitha to have a view of Aunt Tweet and exhale.
Her lips formed an oh, but the word never came out, so she swallowed it. Marcus had kissed her hand, now her cheek… These close encounters were wreaking havoc on her emotions. Okay, okay, she coaxed herself back to reality and quenched any further thoughts of a kiss. Settling in, she focused on the thrilling part of her work—taking control of her income.
That morning, Ava Elise had handed out packets with information about each rep’s territory, car, and drug assignments.
Her sales were based on the doctors’ trust in the medicine’s ability to help their patients and their writing prescriptions for it.
Pfizer developed biotech products. Some quarters, she had earned big bonuses. She had taken a twelve-thousand-dollar pay cut when she accepted her new position. That was the sacrifice she was willing to make because Aunt Tweet meant everything to her.
Plus, money wasn’t everything or the issue. All the sisters received a five-thousand-dollar monthly stipend whenever Aunt Tweet was in their care. It was the other part of the year, when Tabitha didn’t have the trust fund money or the big bonuses to count on. Unless she used her savings, she would feel the squeeze after she paid her mortgage and other perks she had grown accustomed to, like traveling, shopping, and pampering.
She did the math for the upcoming sales quarter. She could earn twenty thousand dollars. Her diabetes drug accounted for 65 percent of her bonus, about thirteen thousand dollars, but if she could hit 150 percent, her bonus could climb up to thirty thousand.
Although Porital and Ceclor accounted for 20 and 10 percent of her quota respectively, she had to reach 100 percent on both, or her twenty-thousand-dollar bonus was in jeopardy. She didn’t believe in losing money, so it was showtime.
Tabitha caught herself smiling at her friendship with Ava Elise, who had pulled her aside before she left class. Her trainer’s encouragement had kept her sane. “You’re on your own now, so I can’t help you out in the field. If you make an appointment with a doctor, nurse, or hospital rep, you’d better keep it. I’m confident that things will work out with your aunt.” She hugged Tabitha, then added, “I’ll be waiting to hear good reports.”
“You will.” I hope, she kept saying to herself. She had made a plan. Now, she had to work it. After saying goodbye to Ava Elise, Tabitha drove away from the office, not doubting her ability but the circumstances that were beyond her control. God, help me.
She had already contacted the rental company to meet her at Ceyle-Norman to pick up the car because she would have keys to a company car—a new blue Ford Taurus.
Next, she checked her emails to see which doctors had confirmed meetings to hear her drug pitches. Her schedule was packed; she had to make ten office calls. She had no choice if she was going to make her bonuses. Hopefully, after she gave the physicians her spiel, they would agree to take her samples and monitor the effectiveness on their patients.
“So what do you like to do besides teach and model?” she heard Marcus ask Aunt Tweet, pulling her back to the work in front of her.
Model? Her great-aunt never modeled—or did she? The stories he was able to pull out of Aunt Tweet were entertaining, but were they true?
“Oh, I used to travel. I’ve been to a lot of places…” Her aunt’s voice was perky.
That was true. Souvenirs from those exotic locations were tucked away for safekeeping in Tabitha’s bedroom. Her sisters had also received keepsakes from places like Vietnam, Italy, the Philippines, and Indonesia. Yes, her aunt had been a world traveler.
“During the Korean War, I learned to speak Chinese.”
What? Chinese? Who? Her aunt? Yeah right… Then Aunt Tweet said something that sounded like an authentic dialect.
Marcus chuckled. “What did you say?”
“Good morning.” She giggled. “My mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be.”
How much do I know about the woman who lives in my house? Tabitha wondered.
“I’m at the age now where I’m tired of traveling. I’d rather go to church. My sister and I went a lot as kids. I hated it. I had to sit still or get a whipping if I didn’t. Mama used to say the difference between a Christian and sinner…” She paused.
He prompted her to continue as Tabitha’s curiosity was piqued too.
“Oh. A Christian repents. A sinner never will tell God or anybody else they’re sorry. I’m going to tell Jesus I’m sorry a lot before I die.”
Lord, please don’t let her die in my house, Tabitha prayed.
* * *
Aunt Tweet was the quintessential entertainer. Her life experiences and intellect captivated Marcus as they watched Jeopardy!
He was also in tune to Tabitha. The saltiness of her tear was still on his lips. He had thrown caution to the wind at signs of her distress. At least she didn’t slap him. There was something pulling them together. Aunt Tweet was just the surface; deep down, there was more of an emotional bond.
Without skipping a beat of Aunt Tweet’s chatter, he had gotten up and checked on Tabitha, who was working feverishly. She seemed like she belonged in his study, in his house, and in his life. Okay, he was just going to say it—but not out loud: dating had to be a possibility between them. He couldn’t let her walk away.
She gnawed on her shapely lips when she was concentrating. Free of makeup and she was still gorgeous. The ponytail added to her relaxed, youthful look. When she yawned, he couldn’t help it and stifled one too. By his third trip to check on her, she was beginning to rub her eyes. It was time to call it a night—for her sake.
He knocked to announce his presence. Looking up, she smiled, but the tiredness in her eyes verified she needed her rest.
“Come in. Oh.” She smiled. “It’s your office.” Tab
itha chuckled.
“Which you can use anytime.” Sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk, he studied her. Marcus had never asked a woman to leave, so this was a first, especially when he selfishly wanted her to stay, so they could talk. “Your aunt is nodding, and I think you need to get some rest too. Aren’t you glad I drove?” He grinned.
“Yes, it’s a long way to my house,” she joked, then stretched gracefully. “It’s early for me, but I do need to get Aunt Tweet to bed.” She started packing up her things. “Marcus.” She paused. “Thank you for letting us invade your space and time.”
“You’re more than welcome. See? I know how to take care of the caregiver.” They shared a soft laugh, then headed to his family room, where Aunt Tweet was nowhere in sight. Now, he began to panic.
“Where is she?” Tabitha raced to the front door to look out—nothing.
“She was just sitting in there. You look down here. I’ll check upstairs.”
“I doubt she would’ve climbed the stairs. They’re getting hard on her knees.” Tabitha wandered into his kitchen.
He hurried upstairs anyway. Aunt Tweet wasn’t in the weight room or in the master bedroom. Opening the third bedroom door, he blinked. She was lying on the floor in a fetal position, asleep. Marcus grunted in disbelief. He scooped her up in his arms and slowly walked downstairs.
“I found her,” he said as loudly as he could without waking her.
“Upstairs? Is she okay?” Not waiting for an answer, Tabitha rushed to him with relief and helplessness flashing across her face. He was sure if he had extra arms, she would have collapsed in them after examining her aunt for herself.
“Tabitha, I owe you an apology.” He felt bad for all the times he had misjudged her. “I didn’t know she could move that fast.”
“Me either at first. Welcome to the life of a caregiver.”
“Grab my keys. I’ll carry her to the car.” While she did as he asked, Marcus couldn’t help but wonder if Aunt Tweet was really suffering from confusion and memory loss or playing a game of hide-and-seek and winning.