by Pat Simmons
“That’s because you purchased it after the houses in Pasadena Hills joined the ranks of National Historic neighborhoods on the U.S. Department of Interior National Park Service National Registry of Historic Places,” Tabitha informed as if she was reading from Wikipedia and without running out of breath.
“Yeah. I know. I researched the neighborhood before buying here and was impressed by the meticulous details of each home. This house…” He paused and glanced back. Her aunt hadn’t moved. “I never learned so much about architecture until I became a homeowner. Pasadena Hills has Tudor, colonial, and Georgian revival designs, as well as Cape Cod, minimal traditional, and Creole French homes,” he said, not to be bested by her knowledge. “I’m the proud owner of Georgian revival architecture.” He grinned.
“And it is beautiful. It took about thirty years to complete the hundreds of homes and other structures in the Pasadena Hills neighborhood district. My family moved here in the 1970s.”
Her tidbits of information were helping him create a character sketch of his neighbor. Tabitha had an older sister and a great-aunt and had lived in the neighborhood as a child. What about a man in her life? He froze. Why did he care? Clearing his throat, he guided his mind back to the topic of discussion. “I can’t imagine any developer today taking that long to complete a project.”
“You’re right,” she said, leaning against his marble counter. “I believe this cluster of homes was meant to be a trendsetter for suburban neighborhoods that bordered the city limits. Who would have thought to build houses for homeowners with cars when streetcars were the mode of transportation back in the day?”
A history buff. Tabitha was becoming more fascinating by the minute. He took that as his cue to serve light refreshments. “I have snacks, in case you didn’t have time to eat something.”
“Thanks, but we’ve taken up enough of your time.” She spun around. Aunt Tweet was behind her in the doorway, eyeing the platters Marcus was removing from the refrigerator. “We’d better go home.”
Aunt Tweet brushed past Tabitha to the counter. “Hush, girl. I’m hungry. What do you have here?”
He chuckled, then watched Tabitha’s demeanor when Aunt Tweet dismissed her. She easily conceded and allowed her aunt to have her way. He felt sorry for Tabitha being reprimanded as if she was a child.
The ladies trailed him to his breakfast nook right off the kitchen. Six narrow windows were designed in a bay shape that gave him a fantastic view of the neighborhood, and Tabitha commented on that too.
After they were seated, her aunt nodded for him to say grace.
Folding his hands, Marcus closed his eyes and said a simple prayer. “Thank you, Lord, for this food and companions to enjoy it. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
They whispered “amen,” then served themselves.
While Aunt Tweet mentioned her girls, Tabitha discreetly tried to get his attention.
Marcus frowned, trying to interpret her gestures, then slowly understood that Aunt Tweet was talking about her niece as if Tabitha were her child. Next, the woman switched subjects to name the places she had visited. He eyed Tabitha for confirmation that it wasn’t a fabrication, but she gave no reaction.
“I’m a twin, you know.”
He dabbed his mouth before speaking. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“That’s right. Pearl and I were twins, and we had a big sister named Pallie.”
“No, you and Pallie were twins,” Tabitha corrected. “Pearl was my grandmother.” She sighed. “We’d better head back. We need to get ready for tomorrow. Plus, I have a lot of homework to do.” She was about to stand, but surprisingly, Marcus didn’t want them to leave just yet, when he was learning so much about his guests. He scrambled to keep the conversation going. “You’re still in school?”
Tabitha chuckled and shook her head. “Oh no. I’m a pharmaceutical rep. I study background information on drugs that I represent for my company.” Leaning back in her chair, she asked, “And what do you do?”
His stall tactic had worked. “My brother and I founded Whittington Janitorial Services. Some of our employees have cleaned doctors’ offices, as well as larger businesses. We also have a brand of industrial cleaning products we sell to our clients.”
Not only was Tabitha listening, but so was Aunt Tweet. “Impressive. We need more black entrepreneurs. Congratulations.” She stood. “I guess we can take that selfie now for your brother, considering you fed us.” She graced him with a dazzling smile.
He blinked. “You remember that?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Do you need help cleaning up?”
“Absolutely not, but thanks for the offer.” Towering over Tabitha, he stared into her brown eyes again. Wow, they were beautiful. She was a pretty woman, and under different circumstances, he would have asked her out. She spoiled the moment when she extended her hand for a shake as if they were concluding a business transaction.
“This evening wasn’t all about business but getting to know each other,” Marcus said as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
Startled, she yanked it back, and he stepped back. They were both confused by his actions. What had gotten into him? He frowned. Did men even do that anymore?
Tabitha seemed to struggle with what to say. Finally, she replied, “That wasn’t necessary.”
“It’s proper etiquette,” Aunt Tweet said, defending him and presenting her hand. Marcus had no choice but to kiss it to show he was a gentleman. After a few selfies, he walked them to Tabitha’s car and watched as she drove off while his heart did a somersault. Was it trying to tell him something?
Chapter 11
Tabitha hadn’t seen that kiss coming, even if it was just on her hand. Now, days later, she still shivered as if his lips tickled her skin. Their close encounter had actually tugged at her emotions, reminding her that companionship had been absent from her life for too long.
Whew. She didn’t have time for any heart-tugging. Time was running out for Aunt Tweet’s memory, and Tabitha wanted to be a part of it as long as it lasted. To avoid more need of Marcus’s assistance, Tabitha had taken drastic measures.
“I bought Aunt Tweet a pet,” she informed her sisters during their weekly Skype chat. The scene of her aunt rocking the puppy in her arms as if it were a human baby was all the heart-tugging Tabitha wanted.
The only house rule was the dog had to sleep in the kennel at night. Her aunt had complied for four days and counting. As far as Tabitha knew, Aunt Tweet seemed content not to wander.
“See? I told you. An animal will do it every time,” Rachel said in triumph, glee beaming from her face. A pet lover, the first thing her baby sister did after she moved into a condo was to adopt a spaniel named Shelby from a rescue shelter.
“Actually, I needed a replacement for Marcus Whittington. A male puppy is the only constant companion I want her to pine after.” Desperation had set in after they’d returned from his house, which her aunt had sadly admitted wasn’t her house. That had been a relief to Tabitha. Yet Marcus was all her aunt talked about. She alternated between calling him mister and George, never Marcus. But Tabitha knew the object of her aunt’s affection.
“You mean the rude and uptight neighbor?” Kym frowned. “Okay, what aren’t you telling us? Rach, you up for a road trip?”
“I would be there tomorrow, if I wasn’t working on deadlines for a project. Plus, I’d rather fly.” Rachel leaned out of the frame and grabbed her phone.
“That will work,” Kym agreed.
No need to mention the man had kissed her, even if it was only her hand. A kiss was a kiss in her book. Who did that anymore anyway? He had watched The Godfather too many times. Who cares? she told herself and rejoined the conversation. “Any reason for the Knicely sisters to get together is good enough for me. Besides, it’s the neighborhood’s official summer kickoff barbecue. Remember the game
s they had for the children, and the food?”
“How could we forget?” Rachel sighed. “That was the only day Mom and Dad looked the other way as we pigged out on junk food.” All three laughed. “But we’re coming to meet the neighbor.”
“Yeah, the one you first described as the Big Bad Wolf,” Kym snarled.
“Well”—Tabitha squirmed in her seat—“my opinion of him might have been too hasty. It was a misunderstanding on our parts that we’ve resolved somewhat.”
“Really?” Kym lifted an eyebrow.
“Umm-hmm. How much is ‘somewhat’?” Rachel asked.
“We’re civil.” Tabitha shrugged.
“Good for him. He doesn’t want to us to put the Knicely sisters’ fear into him.” Rachel giggled. Growing up, the three of them got picked on at school for using proper English and for having long, God-given braids and nice clothes. They may have seemed mild mannered, but if they couldn’t talk their way out of an altercation, they fought their way out—all three of them together as one. “We’ll be there in a couple of weeks. I’ve booked us early Saturday morning flights.”
“A couple of weeks?” Kym didn’t hide her disappointment. “And anyway, I happen to like to sleep late on the weekends,” Kym groaned.
“It’s a nonstop,” Rachel said, “but if you want to sleep, I can book you with a layover from Baltimore to Louisville before landing—”
Kym waved her hand. “Never mind. I can always crash when I get to Tabitha’s house.” She smiled. “It still sounds funny to say ‘Tabitha’s house’ instead of ‘the house.’ Now, back up about this bad wolf turning into a what? Some type of a prince charming?”
Her big sister wouldn’t drop it. Tabitha wouldn’t go as far and describe Marcus as a Prince Charming. “I was getting dressed for work and happened to peep out the window. Not only had Aunt Tweet escaped again, but I saw her at the corner, talking to a guy getting out of a car. I ran out of here barefoot, thinking she was about to be abducted. Girl, I was surprised and annoyed that it happened to be Marcus.” Tabitha closed her eyes and shook her head before facing the monitor again. “I just knew for sure he was about to make good his threat to call the police.”
Kym released words under her breath that were not worth repeating.
“His solution—or bribe—was for a tour of his home to give Aunt Tweet the satisfaction of seeing inside, since she’s so attracted to his porch, and to prove it wasn’t her house. I agreed, so I could get Aunt Tweet dressed and go to work. I had my reservations, but once inside his house…” Leaving nothing out, she described everything from the breathtaking design of his stairway to the refreshments he served.
“I know mental confusion and wandering are some signs of dementia, but I wish she would stay within the confines of the house,” Kym said.
“Exactly. You feel my pain. I know she doesn’t mean to do these things…” Tabitha choked. She had to keep reminding herself to tamp down her frustration. “Unless I move her into my bedroom or keep her in the bathroom while I shower, I’m getting desperate for any type of normalcy in my life again. This is hard, Sisters.”
“Hopefully, Sweetie will do the trick,” Rachel said, referring to the new pet.
“Aunt Tweet thinks he’s a perfect, charming gentleman.”
“The dog?” Kym frowned, alerting Tabitha that she had verbalized her thoughts.
Both sisters gave her suspicious looks.
“I think she’s talking about Marcus,” Rachel said in a singsong tone. “I’m really intrigued with this neighbor. If he’s a ‘perfect, charming gentleman’ as you say our aunt says, then Sweetie might not be enough to keep her homebound.” She snickered.
Tabitha had no comeback. Okay, Marcus had been charming, not the beast she had pegged him to be. She would give him that, but any interaction with him only reminded her of what she couldn’t have in her life right now: romance.
* * *
Marcus was not a kiss-and-tell kind of guy. He didn’t care if it wasn’t the heart-pounding game-changer kiss to define a relationship. Tabitha was more than pretty and smart. He was sure being a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company wasn’t easy. She was also respectful, especially when Aunt Tweet came across as condescending. Tabitha held her tongue, but he could see the hurt on her face.
The following day, when Demetrius queried him about how it had gone with his neighbors, Marcus underplayed it. “Uneventful.” In truth, he wanted any excuse to see Tabitha again and see if his heart would do a backward flip or something to make it happen.
Demetrius acted disappointed there wasn’t more to the story. But there was. Marcus’s mind couldn’t shake Tabitha’s brown eyes, easy smile, and fragrance, which lingered in his house after she was gone.
He checked his home-security surveillance video every morning now, and after a couple of days, Aunt Tweet had not returned. That was a good thing. Yet he felt like a sick puppy. Since he knew where they lived, should he show up at Tabitha’s place, just to be neighborly?
While waiting at a traffic light near his home, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I guess I’ve put out all the fires,” he mumbled to himself, referring to Tabitha, Aunt Tweet, and Victor. Marcus should be happy, but he wasn’t elated.
Finally, on Friday, he and Demetrius ended the workweek hanging out at a sports bar in the Ballpark Village complex across from Busch Stadium. It was just what Marcus needed to distract him from his Tabitha craving.
The place was teeming with Cardinals fans watching the game on a big screen. During a commercial break, Demetrius nudged him. “All quiet on the home front, Bro?”
“Yep.” He took a sip from his cup and swallowed. “No Aunt Tweet sightings all week.”
“Congrats. Your plan worked. You got rid of them.” They exchanged fist bumps.
While Demetrius was celebrating an end to the neighborhood crisis, Marcus was numb. “This may sound strange, but I miss—”
“Nope, don’t say it or it will sound odd,” Demetrius said, cutting him off.
Suddenly, they stood from their seats. A hush spread throughout the bar as all eyes stared at the flat screen. It was as if everyone was holding their breath, following the ball until the opposing team’s outfielder’s glove swallowed it up. The groans in the place were deafening. It was the Cardinals’ third out.
In the spirit of unity, they joined other diehard fans, then Marcus became sober. “I do miss seeing—”
“Tabitha?” Demetrius grinned.
“I was about to say Aunt Tweet,” Marcus said, defending himself. “You can tell she’s a classy lady. It’s a shame she has Alzheimer’s.”
“You’re pining over an old chick. I sure thought you were going to say her niece. In the photo you showed me, she’s hot.”
Marcus cracked a shell, then popped a peanut in his mouth. He crunched, never taking his eyes off the television. “I had a good time with them. Maybe I was too hard on Tabitha. Her aunt is a handful.”
“Doesn’t matter. When it comes to the welfare of another human being, you called it right the first time. She is irresponsible. She’s worse than bad.”
Taking offense at hearing his own words thrown back at him, Marcus cringed. He was on the verge of punching his brother.
“Hey, man. You’re the one who had 911 on speed dial.”
Did that make him a bad person? He shifted on the stool and rubbed the silky hair on his chin. “There’s something about those two that I admire—Tabitha’s deep respect for her great-aunt and the great-aunt’s independent spirit.”
“Except,” his brother said slowly, “when she’s coming to visit, unannounced, in the wee hours of the morning.” Tilting his head, Demetrius smirked. “You know you’re grinning, right?”
“Maybe I should have a cup of coffee waiting for her next time.” He snickered. “And I am hoping for a next time.”
“Of course I want her safe. If she’s going to wander, she knows the path to my house. I guess I’m a neighborhood safe house.” Marcus withheld his smile. Aunt Tweet might get away, but at least Tabitha knew where to come looking to rescue her aunt.
Chapter 12
Somehow, with God’s help, Tabitha had made it to work on time two days in a row. Not without challenges. Aunt Tweet wanted to stay home and play with the puppy. And Tabitha was still exhausted after work with just enough energy to prepare something for them to eat.
“When I’m gone, I sure hope folks will miss me.” Aunt Tweet’s comment came out of the blue, giving Tabitha whiplash as she turned away from the stove. Sorrow filled her heart as she hurried to her aunt’s side. Was she trying to tell Tabitha something?
As if Aunt Tweet hadn’t said anything earth-shattering, she cuddled Sweet Pepper in her arms. Her aunt alternated between calling the pooch Pepper and Sweetie, so Tabitha settled on Sweet Pepper.
Not putting up a fuss about her aunt having the beast near her table, Tabitha wrapped her arms around her aunt’s shoulders. She hugged her tight while dodging Sweet Pepper’s licks of love.
Her eyes misted, and she sniffed. Blinking back the moisture, she took a seat and put her hands on both sides of Aunt Tweet’s face. Making sure they had eye contact, she softly said, “Miss Priscilla Brownlee, you’re unforgettable. Your presence makes a lasting impression.”
“So many of us are gone…” Her voice faded as she took on a dazed expression. “Seems like every year somebody else has passed by the time of our reunions. We try to keep the memory of the school for blacks alive, but when we die, who’s going to remember it?”
Now her mumblings made sense to Tabitha. Her aunt was proud to be an alumna of Storer College, which opened in 1865, the same year enslaved blacks were released from bondage. “A lot of us will, Auntie.” Tabitha tried to console her.
