by Pat Simmons
A playful thought came to him as he was about to ring the doorbell. She would enjoy the humor of opening her door and seeing him perched on her porch. This scenario was how it all started for them—Aunt Tweet staking her claim on his property.
While waiting, he perused their neighborhood: solid and unique-styled houses and groomed landscapes. Old money was one way to describe the neighborhood back in the day. Somehow, this suburban upscale neighborhood near the city limits had survived the majority of white flight. The residents were mixed in ethnicity and income. One thing everyone had in common was preserving the historic value of their homes.
Marcus rang the doorbell. After a few minutes, he rang again. When the door finally opened, his jaw dropped, his heart pounded, and the scent of Tabitha’s perfume made its way to tickle his nose.
Tilting her head, she graced him a smile. “Wow, Mr. Whittington. You clean up real good, but what are you doing here, commandeering my porch?”
She got his joke. “Hey, it’s fair game.” It felt nice that they could tease each other about earlier incidents. Their jesting also calmed his nerves. He measured his steps until he towered over her. When her long lashes fluttered, he could feel his nostrils flare. “You’re the one who’s wowing me.” He scanned her from head to toe. The dress she wore was femininely soft and flirty and curved around her hips.
Distracted, he patted his chest. “You’re gorgeous.” His heart rate still hadn’t recovered. He inhaled and exhaled without taking his eyes off her. “I have an urge to be at church today. I hope you don’t mind me tagging along with you.”
Aunt Tweet appeared at Tabitha’s side decked out in white—a large hat, suit, thick stockings, shoes, and purse. Even the Bible she held was white. She reminded him of a nurse in an old black and white film, except for the hat and Bible. “We’re going to be late.” She was clearly ready to go.
“Give us a few minutes.” Tabitha leaned closer and whispered, “Can you believe she overslept, and I had to wake her up?” She chuckled and Marcus was a goner. “So, you’re on bodyguard duty until my sisters come down.” She tilted her head at her aunt.
“Got it.” He stepped farther into the foyer and placed a kiss on Aunt Tweet’s cheek. He turned back to Tabitha. His nostrils flared, his heart raced. She was alluring. “I don’t care how long I have to wait to kiss your lips, it will be worth it, Miss Knicely.” Stepping back, he stared into her eyes and enjoyed watching her blush. Yep, he was wearing her down.
“Didn’t expect to see you this morning,” Kym said with a mischievous smirk. “Are you my aunt’s driver on Sundays?”
“Actually, this is my first time going to church with her, but I do have enough room in my car, so I can be the designated driver.” He sniffed the air. “It will cost you a strip of bacon, if any is left.” He missed the hearty breakfasts his mom used to prepare. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cooked bacon and eggs. When the craving hit, he usually visited a restaurant for breakfast with his brother or clients.
“Not a problem. There is plenty.” Tabitha made a beeline to the kitchen. He admired the way she glided across the floor in heels.
“Is Demetrius coming with us this morning?” Rachel asked. She also looked nice too.
“Nope.” Knowing his brother, he was probably turning over as Marcus did on Sunday mornings.
A flash of disappointment crossed her face, then she wiped it away with a smile. Rachel shrugged. “His lost. We’re going to hear Aunt Tweet sing.”
Not me, he mused. He felt summoned.
Aunt Tweet began to fuss. If Marcus didn’t block the doorway, he was sure she would be halfway to the church on foot.
Tabitha handed him two strips of bacon in a napkin, then appeared to do a head count before ushering them out the door. She turned on the alarm, locked the door, and joined him. He had an urge to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her closer.
He took a bite. “Crispy.” Marcus didn’t have to get on the interstate. Instead, he took the back roads to Bethesda Temple Church.
Once they had parked, he escorted the ladies inside. The Knicely sisters were eye-catching individually, but together, the ladies were showstoppers. He didn’t know about Kym and Rachel’s availability, Tabitha wasn’t.
An usher led them to a pew. Minutes later, an elderly lady was reading her fourth or fifth announcement when he overheard Kym mumble, “Music please, so we can hear Aunt Tweet sing.”
What was the fascination with Aunt Tweet’s singing? he wondered. Soon enough, musicians stood in place. Three women and two men stood behind microphones and rallied the crowd.
“Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord, everybody! Let’s worship God. When Aunt Tweet didn’t move, neither did any of them. The group started singing “How Great Thou Art,” and the melodious words spilled from the older woman’s mouth like a young songbird.
An angelic voice exploded from inside Aunt Tweet. The song changed, and soon she picked up that beat as the group sang, “I Know I’ve Been Changed.” He wondered if she had stored all the melodies in a hidden compartment. By this time, they all were standing and clapping.
Soon, the minister approached the podium and introduced himself as Pastor Nelson. “If you are a first-time visitor, please stand so we may acknowledge and welcome you.”
Marcus got to his feet, along with Kym and Rachel.
“Amen. It’s no accident you’re here today. God has been expecting you, so please make yourself comfortable and listen for the Lord Jesus’ voice in the message,” the pastor advised.
God had been expecting him? Before more questions formed in his head, he closed his eyes as the pastor led the congregation in prayer.
“Oh, gracious and eternal Father, we stand before You in a spiritual deficit that only You can fill...”
A spiritual deficit? Marcus couldn’t keep himself from listing his achievements again. He helped others, his parents lacked nothing, and any transgressions under his belt weren’t criminal.
“Lord, speak to our hearts today that we can be a blessing to others. In Jesus’ name.”
The congregation replied in a chorus of “Amens” before taking their seats.
“Please turn your Bibles to Matthew 18. There is a difference between a sinner and a Christian. Christians repent. Sinners refuse.”
“Aunt Tweet said something like that a while back,” Tabitha whispered.
“Take a look at verses twenty-one and twenty-two: ‘Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Till seven times? Jesus said unto him, I say not unto thee, until seven times: but, until seventy times seven.’” Crossing his arms, Pastor Nelson scanned the sanctuary. “Christians must forgive without keeping score.”
“Hey, you look so intense,” Tabitha said in a low voice.
Clearing his throat, he sat straighter. “I’m paying attention.” He patted her hand. The softness begged him not to let go. He didn’t, and she let him hold on.
Aunt Tweet shushed them.
The pastor continued, “Researchers say about sixty percent of people’s feet aren’t the same size, either in length or width. Like our feet, our individual walk in life might not be identical.”
Marcus frowned, waiting for the pastor to connect the dots, because he wasn’t following.
“When it comes to forgiving others, we have to remember their walk, hardship, and mistakes in life may be different from our own. They may do things you would never do, but Jesus says to forgive them.”
Victor came to mind, and Marcus immediately dismissed his former employee from his memory bank. He had been good to the man and had overlooked many of his discretions.
“We have to extend mercy in order for us to receive God’s mercy when we mess up,” Pastor Nelson pressed. “Forgiving is not the same as forgetting, so don’t get it twisted. Forgive and allow the Lord to show you how to relate to the offender...”
Becoming uncomfortable, Marcus tuned out the remainder of
the sermon and didn’t relax until the preacher closed his Bible.
Every knee will bow, every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord to My glory. God whispered Philippians 2:10 in his ear.
Marcus tensed.
“Has God spoken to your heart today? Will you listen? You no longer have to be a sinner. Your salvation journey can begin today, if you repent. Pour out your to Jesus, consent to the water baptism and let Jesus give you the evidence of His keeping power through the Holy Ghost.”
While Marcus refused to let his legs move, Aunt Tweet popped up.
“Where is she going?” Kym asked with a bewildered look.
Tabitha didn’t seem fazed. “She probably wants prayer. That’s what usually happens at the end of the sermon. I’ll go with her to make sure she doesn’t wander off.”
“God spoke to me, Miss. I heard Him, and I’m not going to live another day with regrets of what I did or didn’t do.”
Although Aunt Tweet meant business, and proper etiquette insisted Marcus stand and allow her to exit, he refused to make a sudden move. He would fight to the end to keep from helping Victor one more time.
TABITHA WAS DISAPPOINTED Marcus declined her invitation to join them for dinner after he dropped them off after church. He seemed spooked or in a daze, witnessing Aunt Tweet’s reaction to prayer.
After feasting on dinner purchased from Lee’s Famous Chicken, Kym was back to peppering their aunt about her church experience. “Now...Tell me what happened again?”
Squinting, Aunt Tweet seemed to be straining her brain to remember. “That young man prayed for me, and something inside of me exploded,” she said calmly, a complete contrast of what had transpired a few hours ago.
To their shock at church, their aunt seemed to repent the loudest, screaming, “I love You, Jesus... Forgive me, Jesus.” Not only could Aunt Tweet sing, but she used her lungs to let out piercing cries to God.
When one of two ministers at the altar asked if she consented to be baptized to wash away her sins, Tabitha was about to advise the man of her aunt’s condition, but Aunt Tweet stopped her.
“I can’t get to heaven without it, right?”
The minister, who looked to be about the same age as Tabitha, wore a serious expression. “Jesus told Nicodemus, we have to be born of the water and spirit to enter into the kingdom.”
Her aunt had nodded. “Let’s go.”
Fear swept over Tabitha at the urgency in her aunt’s voice. Was Aunt Tweet about to die? She needed answers before this went any farther.
“Don’t live with regrets,” her aunt said, seemingly agitated by Tabitha’s interference, so she followed them quietly into a small room and was instructed to assist her aunt out of what Tabitha considered a vintage white suit into a simple white gown for the baptism.
She had stared into her aunt’s eyes, searching for a glimmer of reality. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
“Some days I can’t remember, but God is talking to my soul.” Her smile calmed Tabitha’s concerns, and minutes later as she watched, Aunt Tweet was baptized in Jesus’ name. At that moment, Tabitha sensed her aunt was blazing a new trail for the Knicely sisters to one day follow.
Once they redressed, Aunt Tweet and the others, who had their sins washed away, were ushered into a small chapel. Staying on the sidelines, Tabitha watched in awe as the small group worshiped God like she had never seen before. She blinked as there was an explosion of something so powerful, she could almost reach out and touch it. She sensed a powerful supernatural presence as her aunt spoke to the Lord Jesus in a heavenly language.
The unknown frightened her. She wanted to grab Aunt Tweet and run. Her feet wouldn’t move. One by one, the worshippers became quiet and composed themselves, including Aunt Tweet, as if they were directed by a maestro.
The exertion didn’t seem to weaken her aunt as she straightened her clothes and announced, “I’m ready to go home now. I got what I came for.”
Which was what? Tabitha wondered.
“None of what Aunt Tweet says makes sense anymore,” Kym said when Tabitha finished the recap. “Actually, none of her behavior makes sense. This is not the same woman who lived with me.” Her sister looked worried.
“The doctor advised us what to expect,” Tabitha reminded them. “Every morning when I wake, I don’t know how much of the old Aunt Tweet I’ll see, or how much of me she’ll remember.”
Rachel frowned. “What kind of state will she be in when she comes to live with me after Thanksgiving? They’ve found cures for everything under the sun, when will dementia sufferers get a break?”
Tabitha shrugged. “I read so much on dementia’s symptoms and Alzheimer’s, I thought my brain would burst. I did this in preparation to be a caregiver. The textbook barely touches the surface to put in practice.” Pulling her legs to her chest, she rested her chin. “The brain tissue of Alzheimer’s patients can’t be studied until...” She swallowed. “They pass on. There are some things we can do now like participate in preventive studies.”
“I am so not feeling that one.” Kym shook her head. “You know I’m not the one for those research and clinical trials. I don’t care how much they pay me.” She folded her arms.
“Well...depending on how much they pay me, I might be willing. I’ll volunteer for the placebo.” Rachel grinned.
“You want a cure? Prevention may be the closest thing to a ‘cure.’ While scientists may test drugs and therapies in clinical trials, prevention trials are geared toward ways to keep a disease like Alzheimer’s from developing. If they determine us to be high risk, then researchers will study whether a certain medicine, vitamin, or lifestyle change might prevent the onset of it.” Tabitha didn’t realize she had switched to sales rep mode until her sisters started grinning at her.
“You sound so...clinical,” Kym said with pride.
“I’m about being compensated for my time.” Rachel hmphed. “But I still think we need to have her doctor change her meds to something stronger.”
“The more potent the drug, the greater the chance for worsening side effects. She’s already on Razadyne for mild to moderate dementia symptoms, which right now is confusion. I’ve done my homework the best I can, even scrutinized other drugs. A couple have a one-to-three-week adjustment period, and during that time, Aunt Tweet could suffer with diarrhea, nausea, vomiting, urinary obstruction, ulcers, and the symptoms go on.”
Adjusting to medicine was never fun. “Do we want to subject her to those side effects? She’s healthy, except for high blood pressure and osteoporosis. She’s in the hands of God,” Tabitha said, startling herself. “Maybe today’s sermon triggered something in her past.”
They were silent for a while in their own thoughts.
Kym sighed, and her strong voice was soft and shaky. “She’s eighty-nine. Maybe she’s dying and wants to make peace with God?” Tears filled her eyes, and Rachel sniffed. “Do you think her wanting prayer was a sign that she’s leaving us?”
“I don’t know, want to think about, or talk about death.” Tabitha blinked away the onset of tears. “On a lighter note,” she exhaled, “Marcus invited us to a Memorial Day barbecue he sponsors at his company. Want to go?” She looked to her sisters. If they wanted to opt out, they would do something else, but surprisingly, they agreed—Rachel more enthusiastically.
Chapter 19
M
arcus was a tormented man. Victor’s woes, the Sunday sermon, and a crazy dream were the culprits that made him restless on a holiday morning. If God wanted him to do something, He had to make it plain. Forgiving Victor was one thing; but digging deep into his pockets for him again wasn’t an option.
Since he couldn’t sleep, he opted to work out his frustration in the home gym. Stepping off the treadmill, Marcus began to lift weights when his doorbell rang. Returning his dumbbells to the holder, he reached for a towel to wipe his face, then glanced out the window. There wasn’t a car in front of his house.
The bell rang again as he
hurried down the stairs. Marcus doubted it was Aunt Tweet. Number one, she had never rung his doorbell. Number two, the puppy and his frequent visits seemed to cease her urge for wandering.
He opened the door and came face-to-face with the woman who had invaded his life in a good way because of Aunt Tweet.
“Ah, hi.” Tabitha scanned his attire and smiled. “Sorry for the early visit. I was walking to clear my head and was hoping you were up and...decent.”
He panicked immediately. “Is everything all right?” She nodded, but that wasn’t good enough. “Is Aunt—” he slowed down. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“And Aunt Tweet?”
“Yes.”
He exhaled and grinned. “Give me a sec to shower. Do you want to come inside?”
“No. I’ll wait out here.” She glanced down at the puppy at her feet. “Plus, I have Sweet Pepper.”
Her sisters must be babysitting. That meant it was just the two of them. “I’ll make it quick.”
“Not too quick, I hope.” She scrunched up her nose and he released a deep cleansing laugh. He showered quickly, but opted to shave later. After slipping on a shirt and shorts, Marcus returned to the porch and sat next to her. “Now, where were we?”
Tabitha sniffed. “Much better.” She angled her head. He watched as she studied his face. The moment would be perfect if he leaned in to kiss her lips for the first time.
As if she had come to a decision, she smiled, but not wide enough to show her white teeth. “I bet you would look handsome with a beard.”
“Oh, so now I’m ugly?” he challenged her and lifted an eyebrow.
Giggling, she nudged his shoulder. “Not even on a bad day would you be ugly. I’m not giving you anymore compliments today.” Tabitha’s eyes twinkled, then in another surprising move, she rested her head on his shoulder.
Her closeness was making him weak in his knees and he was sitting. Did she have any idea what she was doing to his hormones?
She exhaled. “I needed to vent.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t hear a word you said.”