My Rock

by Pat Simmons

  “I’m not going to go with that girl!” Aunt Tweet said in a defiant tone and shifted in her chair.

  All eyes turned to Rachel. The expression on her face was a cross between horror and hurt. Visibly shaken, her baby sister swallowed. Demetrius squeezed her shoulder.

  Kym stepped in and defused situation by luring Aunt Tweet to talk about the places she had traveled and the wonderful souvenirs she brought back. Their aunt chuckled and gave a history lesson on her world travels.

  Soon, everyone tackled the cleanup and stored leftovers in the refrigerators. Marcus stayed behind after his parents and brother said their goodbyes. Her sisters were upstairs, preparing their aunt for bed and packing what she hadn’t. Wrapping his arms around her, he whispered, “Babe, I’m really sorry again about saying something earlier. I wasn’t thinking.”

  Resting against his chest, she shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s reality. I don’t know where Aunt Tweet’s reality is right now. It will be a big transition for her and Rachel as it was for me.”

  She turned in his arms and he brushed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes to enjoy the moment before her reality resurfaced. “I don’t know what state of mind Aunt Tweet will be in tomorrow. I’m sure she will be confused, but hopefully not combative.”

  Tabitha was glad Marcus didn’t stay much longer, because she was eager to spend as much time in her aunt’s presence before she left. In the beginning, the caregivers’ pact, seemed like an easy commitment until it was her turn. Once her aunt arrived, she had questioned herself daily whether she was competent to be a caregiver, especially after her initial run-in with Marcus. Months ago, she counted down the weeks until she handed over Aunt Tweet to Rachel.

  Once she was upstairs, she shooed her sisters out of Aunt Tweet’s room and looked around. After this weekend, the bedroom would be vacated until her aunt returned in a year. At least next time, Tabitha would have experience to be a better caregiver.

  She fluttered her lashes to keep her tears at bay as her heart broke. She didn’t want to cry in front of Aunt Tweet. The last time had been when she apologized to her sisters during a Skype chat. Her aunt tenderly had wiped away her tears as she had when Tabitha was small. The gesture that day had only made her want to boo-hoo even more.

  Scooting back Aunt Tweet’s Jacquard bedspread, because it was her aunt’s pet peeve for anyone to sit on top of it, Tabitha sat on the edge of the bed. She mustered a smile.

  “I want you to know I love you, and it’s been a sincere honor to take care of you. I know I had some rough patches when I became frustrated, but it was still a pleasure for you to be here and keep me company. On the days you can remember, I hope there are fond memories of our time together.”

  Suddenly, Aunt Tweet began to ramble about “mister,” which Tabitha understood to mean Marcus. She knew he was going to miss her from the way he held her hand in recent days. It was such a touching scene.

  “Mister’s a good man. A good man... A good man makes a good husband, and father, and grandfather. You want a man who wants to be with you. Sometimes, I wish I had a man to hold my hand...”

  Tabitha held her breath. Aunt Tweet remembered Marcus’ gesture? Oh boy, would her aunt have separation issues from him too? Returning to the bed, she got comfortable and listened attentively. Despite her aunt’s smiles and occasional chuckles, it was clear her aunt did have regrets in life when it came to love.

  THE NEXT MORNING, IT appeared Aunt Tweet hadn’t forgotten a thing about Marcus’ comments as she refused to get in the car with Rachel. Her sister looked downright overwhelmed.

  Tabitha made a snap judgment. “I’m going with you.” Rachel and Aunt Tweet looked relieved. The passing of the baton was hard. It was a good thing it would be a short trip and a long weekend. She would fly back Sunday night.

  “Baby, I can drive you,” he offered after she told him about her aunt’s behavior. “Do you have any idea how crowded the airport will be?”

  “I do, but I know you’ll be there to pick me up.”

  The following day, they tried for the road trip again, this time with very little resistance from their aunt. Marcus was there to say goodbye as if she was going on a long journey. He had brought flowers for all three of them. She gave him one final kiss and two hugs before she hurried to squeeze in the backseat with Aunt Tweet’s belongings.

  As Rachel drove away from the house, Tabitha glanced back. Marcus hadn’t moved from her sidewalk. At least she had something to look forward to when she returned.

  Chapter 36

  T

  abitha hadn’t returned to St. Louis as planned, but stayed an extra day to make sure Aunt Tweet was comfortable and settled. Now, it felt like months, instead of weeks, since her aunt’s move to Nashville. Her absence was tangible. What now? For six months, she had scheduled everything around Aunt Tweet who had started to unleash a combative spirit on Rachel, bringing her sister to tears.

  She didn’t realize her mind had drifted until Marcus cleared his throat.

  “Would I spoil the mood if I said I miss her?” he whispered as they both struggled to enjoy the meal they had prepared together.

  “Not at all.” She loved this man. Her caregiver had been a rock when she needed an anchor. “I had zoned out on you, wondering how she’s doing.”

  “You still talk to her every day, right?” He wore an expectant look.

  “I’ve been trying to wean both of us. It’s every other day. Soon, I’ll check on her twice a week, then it will be our weekly Skype chats.”

  Marcus picked at his creamed corn again. “Why do we sound like empty nesters?”

  “I guess, because we are.” Tabitha chuckled. “She’s been a part of my life forever and had a flair for making lasting impressions...” Although she missed Aunt Tweet, her stress level was down, but not gone, because she still worried about her aunt and Rachel. Like Tabitha had been, her sister really didn’t know what she was getting into.

  Reality kicked in for Rachel soon as Tabitha left for home, and her sister had been frazzled ever since. Rachel needed Jesus to help her like He had Tabitha. “One good thing is I’ll have time to breathe, regroup, and be ready for next time.” With Aunt Tweet’s mental state deteriorating, she hoped it would be a next time.

  “I guess we should’ve kept the dog,” Marcus said, displaying a boyish pout.

  Her spirits lifted instantly, laughing. “We?” She pointed her fork at him. “You mean me. I had to walk the dog, feed him and clean up his poop. The only thing my aunt had to do was pet him.”

  Tilting his head, Marcus considered what she’d said. “True.”

  After they finished their dinner, they cleaned her kitchen and settled in the family room.

  It was a chilly December weekend, and both agreed to stay in and let a roaring fire warm them while listening to instrumental Christian music. Snuggling under Marcus’ arm, she closed her eyes, content.

  Suddenly, shifting in his seat, Marcus startled her. “Let’s start over.” He angled his body until he faced her. “As if we’ve just met.”

  Amused by his excitement, she teased, “You want me to come and stake out your porch? That ain’t happening.”

  His slow grin turned into a deep chuckle. He brought her hand to his lips. “No. I want to woo, chase, court, or whatever you want to call it to win your heart.”

  She patted her chest. “You already have.”

  His nostrils flared, and his breathing deepened. “Not like a man really wants to. Let’s plan something tomorrow.”

  “It’s supposed to snow,” she reminded him, which was why he had stockpiled wood on her covered porch.

  The forecast didn’t seem to deter him. “I’m like the U.S. mail: I plan to deliver on a special occasion.”

  “What are we celebrating?”

  “Let’s just say I hope the forecasters are fifty percent wrong again.”

  WHERE WAS THE SNOW the meteorologists had predicted? Marcus grunted as
he opened the ring box, scrutinized the diamond, then closed it. Snow might shut down cities and businesses, but it wasn’t going to keep him from proposing. As any determined man in love, he had concocted a Plan B—loaded a shovel, a bag of salt, and a portable heater in his truck—just in case.

  If only Aunt Tweet was there to see it. Would she remember him asking for Tabitha’s hand in marriage? He planned on loving her until Jesus came back for both of them. Until then, he would use his parents’ marriage as a model.

  Marcus did his scheming while urging Tabitha to redeem his gift certificate for the works: hair, skin, and nails after Aunt Tweet moved. She wasn’t the only one who had gone shopping for something special to wear.

  When he had informed his parents that he was going to ask her to marry him, they had been ecstatic. Demetrius was a downer, not sharing the same enthusiasm when Marcus phoned him. “Man, have you really had a chance to get to know her outside of caring for her aunt?”

  “What Tabitha and I experienced was real life. If love found its way through all that stress, and at times, drama, then I feel God brought us and will keep us together.”

  “You’re a good man, bro.” Demetrius laughed. “Good luck.”

  “Whatever. Please don’t mention this to Rachel, because she might say something to Kym, and it could get back to Tabitha.”

  His brother was quiet. Marcus could only assume whatever was going on between him and Rachel fizzled as soon as Aunt Tweet became her houseguest. That ended all discussion about the Knicely sisters.

  He was about to call his beloved when her ringtone beat him to it. He grinned and answered. “Hey, babe.”

  “Hey. Have you looked out the window?” She didn’t hide the worry in her voice.

  “As a matter of fact, I did. Nothing is going on,” he said in triumph, popping open the ring box again.

  “Ah, I think you need to look again,” she said as he strolled to look outside his bedroom window and blinked. “What?”

  “Yeah. It’s coming down heavy. Can we do a raincheck—or in this case, a snow check?” She giggled.

  “Babe, I’m not canceling our reservations. Be beautiful, be sweet, and be my girlfriend.” He chuckled at his own corniness. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He smacked a kiss in her ear for good measure and disconnected. He couldn’t believe the forecasters had nailed it after all. “Time to activate Plan B.”

  He shaved, showered, then donned his tuxedo. Marcus peeped out the window again, and his jaw dropped. The snow furiously covered everything. Still operating under Plan B, he slipped on his boots, grabbed his keys and left.

  Once outside, he scanned his neighborhood’s winter wonderland. It was beautiful, but not a deterrent. After starting his car, he cleaned off his windows. He had purchased frozen dinners from Maggiano’s and entrees he could pop in the microwave—not romantic—but a backup. Half hour in the oven, and the pasta would be piping hot and ready to serve along with the other items he had stuffed in a picnic basket. He chuckled—a picnic basket in December.

  Ready, Marcus drove the short distance and parked. He stepped out and retrieved the shovel from his trunk. As quietly and fast as he could, he cleared the walkway from the sidewalk to Tabitha’s porch. Done.

  Next, he set up the portable propane heater midway on the path to melt the snow as it continued to fall. Check. Finally, he placed portable lanterns in the snow—a winter date idea he’d read on a website. Marcus hiked up the stairs, being careful not to slip. He rang her bell, then backtracked to the walkway and waited.

  Opening the door, her eyes widened in surprise. The light glowing in the foyer behind her gave the illusion of an angel in the doorway. She gasped and covered her mouth. “Marcus?”

  “Put on your coat and come outside.” He stretched out his hand.

  It seemed to take her a few minutes to register his request. Once Tabitha did, she twirled around and grabbed her coat. Note to self: Get her a mink on our first wedding anniversary.

  “What is going on?” she asked as snowflakes sprinkled her lashes while he helped her down step by step with one hand. His other hand held an umbrella over her head.

  Marcus pulled her closer. “Do you recall any of the passages in Roman 8:35–39?”

  She blinked and frowned. “No.” When she shivered, he guided her closer to the propane heater until he could feel its warmth against his legs.

  “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ—tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? We are more than conquerors through him that loved us,’” he recited.

  “For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” He paused. “I am also persuaded that neither weather nor hardship, or misunderstandings—nothing can separate you, Tabitha Knicely, from my love.”

  Giving her the umbrella, he knelt and fumbled in his pocket until he pulled out the box. “Nothing could have kept me from falling in love with you,” he said, staring up into her teary eyes. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife for life?”

  Wiping away a tear, she choked out, “I once told you if you asked me to marry you I would, so the answer is yes, Marcus Whittington, I would be honored to be your wife.” She extended her hand, and he slipped on the ring.

  Leaping up, he had to steady himself on the wet walkway before he lifted her off her feet and kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I still can’t believe how love found its way into my life at its lowest point,” she said with such awe in her voice and bliss on her face.

  “Don’t question it. Just love me back.”

  “I do. I will.” She squeezed his neck, threatening to close his windpipe.

  As the snow began to pile up around them, they still had a clear spot near the heater, so he steadied her, reached into his pocket and tapped his iTunes to play a rendition of “Thank You” by the late Walter Hawkins.

  As she continued to hold the umbrella, he snaked his arms around her and began to sway in a slow dance to the melody. Once the song ended, he hugged her tight. “One chapter of our life has ended. We’ll begin the new year with a new chapter as an engaged couple.”

  “Amen,” she said and smiled. “Now, what about dinner, because I’m hungry.”

  “Yep. About that,” he paused with a sheepish grin. “I did cancel our reservations, but we can have a winter picnic.

  She stomped her foot and rested a fist on her hip. “Not out here.”

  He laughed at her sass. “No, silly girlfriend. I’ll get the basket from the car. It’s frozen dinners from Maggiano’s. Your favorite.” He winked. “While we wait for it to cook, I have some appetizers to munch on in front of the fireplace.”

  “Just so we’re clear, Mr. Whittington, I expect a makeup proposal with a hot meal at a nice restaurant...”

  Before she could finish her demands, Marcus engulfed her in his arms and kissed her.

  Epilogue

  T

  abitha had hoped for more time to plan her wedding, but time wasn’t on her side when it came to Aunt Tweet’s mental health. Instead of outdoor fall nuptials, she and Marcus had agreed to tie the knot in a candlelight ceremony in early spring.

  While waiting in the small makeshift bridal changing room, Tabitha glanced at her two bridesmaids. Her sisters were elegant and beautiful. Priscilla “Aunt Tweet” Brownlee would be her escort. The moment was somber without her parents’ presence. She sniffed so not to compromise Rachel’s makeup artistry. Before the hour was over, she would become Mrs. Whittington.

  “I’m really happy Marcus came into your life. He’s a good man,” Kym whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Mom and Daddy would be proud.” Her big sister’s hug lingered.

  “Whew.” Rachel dabbed at excessive tears, then fanned her face. “I’m trying
to hold it together, but I’m glad you found happiness in the midst of being a caregiver.” She hiccupped.

  Rachel seemed to be in a constant emotional frenzy. Her sister had confessed she felt overwhelmed daily.

  When music from the string quartet floated to their room, the sisters readied themselves to leave, but Tabitha stopped them.

  “Let’s pray.” She reached for Kym and Rachel’s hands, then moved toward their aunt, who had been sitting quietly nearby, to include her too.

  “Father, in the name of Jesus, thank You for this occasion and Marcus. I ask that You bless our marriage, our family to come, and I especially ask for blessings and grace in my sisters’ lives. Supply their spiritual and physical needs, according to 3 John 1:2. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  “Aren’t we supposed to be praying for the bride?” Kym was the first to speak.

  “We just did.” Tabitha beamed, then shooed them out the room. Turning back to Aunt Tweet, she helped her stand. Her weight loss was noticeable, but she was still classy in her silk gold suit, stunning hat, and matching gloves. Tabitha kissed her cheek and whispered, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me all these years, especially imparting your wisdom. I love you.”

  “Umm-hmm.” Her aunt nodded, then became antsy. “Randolph’s waiting.”

  The mysteries of Miss Priscilla Brownlee would never cease. “Yes,” she responded, knowing she had her own built, handsome, and godly Randolph, standing at the altar.

  They made their way out of the changing room. When the ushers saw them, they opened the double doors to the chapel. Aunt Tweet started her shuffle to escort Tabitha down the aisle. Actually, it was Tabitha who took baby steps to keep her aunt steady.

  She could feel the tug of Marcus’ gaze on her and she dared to look his way. When she did, his raw emotions of attraction caused her to suck in her breath. Soon, he left his post. With precision steps, he met them halfway.