by Pat Simmons
Their brief conversation had been on his mind ever since, and even though he was in the company of beautiful women, his mind wouldn’t let Latrice’s ridiculous request rest.
Have you not read in Luke 18 of the widow who troubles the judge until he grants her request? God questioned him.
Marcus didn’t realize he was frowning until Tabitha came to his side “You okay?” The genuine concern in her eyes and the brief touch on his arm rescued him from the memory.
“Yeah,” he lied when he really wanted to know how God had gotten involved in Latrice and Victor’s situation.
“It’s getting hot, so we all can get a drink from the food stands, and I’ll treat.” Tabitha’s smile brought them back to the present.
That gesture made his knees weak. She could make an army of soldiers surrender when her lips curled. “Not on my watch.”
She nudged him. “You’re not on Aunt Tweet duty. It’s the weekend. You’re off,” she teased.
“When are you off?” He tried to read her emotions. When she said nothing, he continued, “If you need me, I’m here.” He didn’t realize that they were the center of attention until Demetrius cleared his throat.
“The ladies ate, but I’m hungry, man,” Demetrius said.
“Sorry.” He and Tabitha led the way with Aunt Tweet sandwiched in between them and Tabitha’s sisters and his brother.
Although the ladies were stuffed, they did agree to lemonade. Aunt Tweet, on the other hand, pointed to a corndog at the food truck. “Sure am hungry.”
Marcus frowned and looked to Tabitha.
“Trust me, she was well fed, but I guess one won’t hurt.” No wonder her aunt’s clothes were getting snug. After the ladies placed their orders for lemonade, Tabitha fumbled in her pocket for money.
He was faster and handed over cash for their drinks, the corndog and his greedy brother’s plate of food.
“Thanks, man,” Demetrius mumbled.
They found an empty table and sat. While the various conversations were lively, Marcus went through the motions that he was following their every word, but Latrice’s words invaded his thoughts again. Clearly, she was hard to shake.
When a small band began to play, people danced in the street, which had been closed off, except for residential traffic. Tabitha’s sisters convinced Aunt Tweet to dance with them. Placing Sweet Pepper in Tabitha’s lap, their aunt gave them a show with her moves until she became winded. The sisters guided her back to her seat. Immediately, she sat and took the puppy back.
“I bet she was something back in the day,” he whispered.
Turning to him, Tabitha smirked. “Don’t let her hear you say that, because she will tell you it’s still her day.”
“Aunt Tweet,” Kym said, “you’ve still got it.”
“Umm-hmm.” Their aunt chuckled. “I guess I do. I was in a dance troupe and we toured the world...”
The sisters exchanged curious expressions as if it was the first time they heard this. Even Marcus was beginning to question whether Aunt Tweet embellished every tale she told him.
Somehow, the conversation went from dancing around the world to singing at church.
“She’s up at eight-thirty and we’re out the door by ten for church. That seems to be the trend,” Tabitha told them.
Shifting in his seat, Marcus glanced away. He didn’t want to talk about church, not with God making him feel guilty about turning Latrice down, so he changed the subject. “Any plans to barbecue on Memorial Day?” he asked.
“I haven’t decided, since my sisters leave late that night, we might get some take-out and bring it back to my house.”
“Nonsense.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “Come to my company’s barbecue.”
“She’ll be there, and we’ll tag along,” Rachel said, clearly eavesdropping when he thought she and his brother were in a conversation.
Whether Rachel enjoyed St. Louis style baby back ribs, or picked up on Marcus’ vibes, he was glad for her yes vote.
Everyone waited on Demetrius to clean his chicken bones and wipe his mouth, then they discarded their trash. The festival crowd was getting thick as they began a stroll. Suddenly, Tabitha froze in her steps. “Aunt Tweet, where’s Sweet Pepper?”
Her aunt shrugged. “He went for a walk.”
“Walk?” Tabitha panicked. The four-pound Yorkie could be anywhere. “You can’t let go of the leash,” she said with an edge to her voice.
“Calm down,” Kym said. “Let’s split up.”
Before she could work herself in a frenzy, Marcus placed his hand on her shoulder and softly squeezed. “Let’s go.”
“Thank you.” Unfallen tears filled Tabitha’s eyes. “The dog had put an end to Aunt Tweet’s wandering, then he escaped.”
“Hey, we’ll find him.” Marcus hoped so, because he didn’t like the sound of hopelessness in her voice.
Soon, neighbors joined in the search and Rachel sent a group text.
Demetrius and I have found Sweet Pepper playing with some children. After Tabitha read the message, they started toward the location Rachel had given.
“Thanks for playing with him,” Tabitha told the children, taking the leash, “but we need to give him back to my... She looked around. “Where’s Aunt Tweet? I thought she was with you,” she said, frowning.
“I thought she was with you,” Kym said defensively.
“While you two argue, I’m going to look for her.” Rachel huffed and marched off.
Splitting up again, they moved in different directions. Marcus and Tabitha weaved through the crowd and found her at a booth, devouring a double scoop of ice cream. The evidence was splattered on her face.
“She has a sweet tooth.” He chuckled, but Tabitha didn’t.
Minutes later, her sisters joined them, fussing as they the spills on Aunt Tweet’s dress. Not knowing who they were really complaining about, he and Demetrius stayed on the sidelines and said nothing.
Evidently, satisfied with the outcome, Tabitha announced they were heading back home. Any other time, he wouldn’t hesitate to escort them. Not today. The sisters’ body language shouted, “Don’t butt in.” With his hands jiggling the keys in his pocket, Marcus rocked on his heels and watched their retreat. None of them looked happy as Tabitha toted the puppy in her arms and Rachel and Kym held on to their aunt’s hands like little children.
“Whew,” Demetrius mumbled under his breath, then back slapped Marcus in the chest for fun. “I’ll give you credit that Tabitha is fine—all the sisters are—but that’s a lot of drama right there.” He pointed in their direction.
“I’m not scared of a little drama when it comes to her.”
Demetrius rubbed his head. “That’s a busload of drama, and if I were you, I would get off at the next stop.”
Shaking his head, he squinted until the group faded in the distance. “I bought a round-trip ticket. I’m not getting off without her.” He returned his brother’s back slap to the stomach—in jest. They were even.
Marcus wanted to be Tabitha’s rescuer. He had hoped with her sisters in town, his services wouldn’t be necessary, but clearly, Aunt Tweet’s mind had its own agenda. He hoped her antics this weekend would bring them closer together, and not tear them apart. From the brief finger-pointing, he wouldn’t bet on the latter.
Chapter 17
“T
hat was an interesting outing,” Kym stated later that night after Aunt Tweet had retired to her room.
It was a comical task as everyone had a hand in their aunt’s grooming. Kym helped bathe her, which was a first for her big sister. Rachel tidied up the bedroom and commented on the snacks their aunt had hoarded. Tabitha used the time to wash clothes, especially towels for Aunt Tweet to fold, since she had become increasingly restless when she didn’t have anything to do.
Finally, the sisters collapsed on the furniture in the family room, too tired to drag themselves upstairs to bed. “Now you see how things are with Aunt Tweet?” Tabitha a
sked.
Kym patted her chest. “That was the second scariest moment of my life. The first was when she got lost behind the wheel in New Jersey. Today, she could have easily slipped away in that crowd. Is this what you’re dealing with on a regular basis?” The concern on her big sister’s face was evident.
“Yep.” Tabitha nodded. “Looking at her, she appears to be in her right mind. If I didn’t know the severity of the dementia symptoms, I would say she’s playing a cat and mouse game. I see the frustration when she can’t recognize or remember things.” She shrugged. “I wonder if she has moments where she knows what’s going on around her, but she’s trapped in a body she has lost control of.”
The room was quiet, except for the icemaker. They all were focusing on Aunt Tweet’s health. “If it wasn’t for the adult daycare and Marcus, I might have been unemployed by now. The stress is overwhelming.” Tabitha closed her eyes and exhaled.
“Speaking of Marcus, how much of a distraction is he?”
Tabitha folded her legs under her bottom, giving her time to decide how to take her sister’s inquiry. It sounded more like an accusation. “What are you saying, Kym?”
“Aunt Tweet is our focus. She needs closer supervision.” Her big sister paused. “Don’t get me wrong. Marcus seems nice and all, beyond good-looking, but ask yourself if you have time to get deep in a relationship?”
Humph. Tabitha didn’t have to ask herself. She knew the answer the moment Marcus hinted he was interested in her. She thought her crisis would scare him away, but he bounced back stronger. Now, she drew on his strength to keep her sanity.
When it came to relationships, Kym was skeptical, picky, and untrusting of hot looks and sweet words. A teenage crush had done her in many years ago, and it seemed to change her idea of happily ever after ever since.
“Do you think she is wandering as a way to get your attention? Maybe, she feels threatened by Marcus,” Kym voiced her concern.
Tabitha laughed at the absurdity. “Did you forget that Marcus is in our life because of her?” She pointed toward the stairwell. The sisters rarely bumped heads about anything growing up because she and Rachel followed the leader. That’s what made their relationship so special. Since they’d reached adulthood, they had no problem sharing opposing viewpoints.
This was supposed to be a stress-free weekend. “I know she was in good hands with you as her caregiver, Kym. Since I’ve picked up the torch, I live and breathe Aunt Tweet from the time I wake until my head hits the pillow.” Her eyes watered, but she refused to release the tears. This wasn’t about whining, but stating a point. “After my rocky start with Marcus, he has shown himself to be there when I call. He’s not a part of this discussion because he genuinely cares about us.”
“A man who is at my beck and call.” Rachel had a slow grin. “I love it. I think it’s sweet he wants to be a part of her life.” Lifting her hand, she leaned over for a high five.
Amused at her baby sister who supplied the comedy relief the moment needed, Tabitha tapped her hand against Rachel’s.
“Okay.” Kym conceded with a shrug. “So what’s on the agenda tomorrow?”
“Church,” Tabitha told her. “Aunt Tweet likes the one across the street from Bermuda Place. I think the music pulls out a happy place within her, which has sparked her to sing or hum.”
“Umm-hmm.” Kym scooted up from her resting position on the sofa. “I never recalled her mentioning church growing up or wanting to attend while she lived with me in Baltimore, but who are we to deny her whatever she wants?”
“Exactly,” Tabitha agreed. “Every day she surprises me. She’s convinced Marcus that she was once a model, performed in a dance troupe, and won an all-white beauty pageant.”
Kym threw her hands up in disbelief. “This Aunt Tweet you’re describing is foreign to me.”
You’re not the only one. She kept her thoughts to herself. “Dementia has so many symptoms, and I don’t know if Aunt Tweet is making things up to entertain herself or sharing a piece of her that she’s kept hidden.” With that said, Tabitha stood, stretched and announced she was going to sleep. Her sisters would sleep in the bedroom she and Rachel shared growing up.
After saying her prayers, Tabitha snuggled under the cover. Hugging her pillow, she shivered, thinking about Marcus. What would she do without him? She reached for her phone on the nightstand. She preferred not to text or email folks after eleven at night. If they were sleeping, the alerts might disturb them, but she couldn’t resist.
Thank you for today.
Surprisingly, he responded right back. Anything for you!
I believe you.
Resting her phone back on the nightstand, she smiled and drifted off, wondering what a real date would be like if she wasn’t a caregiver. It wasn’t part of her reality, but she could dream about it every night.
MARCUS FINISHED READING Tabitha’s text. He would give anything to talk to her right now. Instead, he had been stuck with his brother, since leaving the summer kickoff.
Without glancing up, he could feel Demetrius’ staring at him. He met his brother’s eyes. “What?”
“Oh nothing.” He displayed a teasing grin before he lifted his glass in salute. “She has you wrapped around her finger, bro.”
“They both do.” He wasn’t shy about admitting his deep attraction and affection for them. He went through the motions of enjoying himself with Demetrius. But in honesty, he desperately wanted to check in with Tabitha to make sure she was all right. Her sisters’ presence hindered that. However, the tradeoff was a temporary respite from caring for Aunt Tweet solo—when he wasn’t around.
“Yup.” Demetrius took another sip and scanned the bar, then in a casual manner, stated, “I can see why you’ve been distracted all evening.” Demetrius pointed his fingers at his eyes, then turned his two fingers at Marcus’ eyes, “She’s pretty, but her sister, Rachel...wow. She’s too young for me. At thirty-eight, I don’t date women in their twenties. I’m not babysitting someone who is ten years younger than me.”
He tilted his head. “And how would you know how old she is?”
“I asked.”
“I see, so...if you asked, you’re interested.” When his brother remained silent, Marcus kept pressing. “I’m sure she has other qualities.” He would take true love from the woman who snagged his heart.
Out of nowhere, Latrice’s love for Victor flashed before his eyes. Wasn’t out of sight, out of mind? How could she be tormenting him like this from afar?
It’s not her. It’s Me, God spoke to his mind.
“Hey, what’s up, man? You all right? You just went into a trance on me.” Demetrius wore a concerned expression.
“Yeah.” He rubbed his face out of frustration. “Latrice is in my head, and she jumps out when I least expect it and somehow keeps nagging me.” He definitely wasn’t going to mention hearing God’s voice.
Finishing his drink, Demetrius smacked his lips while shifting his weight on an unsteady stool. “Man, let that go. Victor is history. He messed up, so he’s out.”
“Yep. I agree hundred percent.” He nodded while frowning. “Latrice claims God told her to ask me for the money to bail him out of jail.”
Demetrius chuckled. It built into an all-out laugh. “Don’t fall for it, man. People say, ‘God said this’ all the time. It’s a ploy tactic out of her desperation. I’d let that go and give her a warning that if she approaches you again with that nonsense, she could lose her job too. Plus, even though you don’t go to church, God knows how to talk to you directly.”
He has. Marcus swallowed and tapped on the bar counter. “You’re so rough around the edges,” he said, trying to downplay what was going on with their employee.
“No, I’m a businessman who follows the rules. You may have the heart, but I have the brains to run a tight ship.”
“Did you forget I earned an MBA and graduated magna cum laude?”
He shrugged. “You got me there.”
“We
ll, let’s call it a night.” He summoned the bartender for their check.
Demetrius gave him a dumbfounded look. “Really?” He checked the time. “This early? Tomorrow’s Sunday, so what’s the deal with an early bedtime?”
“It’s called, ‘getting some rest.’”
Driving westbound on I-70 toward Pasadena Hills, he couldn’t shake Latrice’s request—no it was a demand. Now it appeared God was backing her up. Why him and, why Victor?
Chapter 18
S
unday morning, Marcus woke with the same nagging question: What did God want from him? He was as good as the next person. His pockets were deep when it came to helping people. His employees, Tabitha and Aunt Tweet were witnesses to that. Victor, on the other hand... He had to draw the line.
Your goodness can’t compare to mine. God didn’t whisper this time. His voice was crisp, and He mentioned Isaiah 64:6.
Marcus thought he’d stopped breathing. He glanced to his left, then to his right, expecting to see Jesus in his bedroom. Turning around, he didn’t and exhaled. He wasn’t easily scared, but he was shaken by God’s intervention for Latrice—or maybe it was for Victor. Nobody had to tell him twice, get to somebody’s church today. There were storefronts, megas and medium-sized churches. He had no clue where to go. He wasn’t opposed to church, but it was never a priority. He wracked his brain about where to go as he shaved, showered, and dressed.
In his closet, he took out his brown suit and a light-colored tie—attire rarely worn to the office where he preferred the standard uniform as his employees: a blue polo shirt and tan pants.
Tabitha mentioned Aunt Tweet dragging her to church. Maybe, Aunt Tweet had a hand in getting him to church too. He called Tabitha to let her know his intentions of joining them at church, but got her voicemail.
Not knowing the service time, he left. Tabitha’s car was still at her house, so he stopped. Whatever was going down with him, he wanted her with him. Marcus was amused at the thought of wanting Tabitha to hold his hand.