by Pat Simmons
Marcus tapped in the numbers. “The wake and funeral will take place in St. Louis. The mortician here is preparing her body to be shipped, and our church in St. Louis is checking the dates to accommodate the family for the service.”
“I’ll make plans to be there,” Nicholas said and waved goodbye.
When Nicholas made it back to his house, he couldn’t shake Rachel’s distraught image from his mind. As a matter of fact, when he closed his eyes, her sad expression haunted him in his sleep.
The next evening, Marcus texted him the arrangements; it would be held in a week. The next day at work, he planned to request Friday off. He booked his flight for St. Louis. He didn’t want to get on the road tired after working the third shift, even for the short four-hour drive.
“What?” He looked up from his phone and stared at Karl and Ava, who had apparently asked him a question.
“Is something wrong?” Ava frowned. “You just zoned out on us.”
His brother and sister-in-law had invited him to Sunday dinner as a way to thank him for watching his nephews. As a bachelor who was only a decent cook, Nicholas never turned down a free meal from his mother or sister-in-law. “Sorry, funeral arrangements.” Nicholas set his phone aside and cut into his steak.
Karl frowned. “I don’t recall hearing any announcements this morning about a church member passing or Mom and Dad mentioning anything.”
“Miss Brownlee wasn’t a member. She’s from St. Louis, but she was added to our sick and homebound list when one of her nieces called the church,” Nicholas explained.
“So you’re going to St. Louis for the funeral of a woman who probably didn’t know you were there to see her?” His sister-in-law looked bewildered.
To Nicholas’s ears, Ava’s recap didn’t make sense. “I’m going to be there for the family.”
“Are you speaking on the program?” His brother slipped green beans in his mouth and chewed while waiting for an answer. It wasn’t unusual for visiting ministers to give remarks about the deceased.
“I’m going strictly as a friend for Rachel and the family.”
“Rachel? Hold up.” Karl rested his fork on the plate. “Why do I feel there is more to the story?”
“She must be special for you to fly across the country for her after knowing her for what?—A month?” His sister-in-law gave him a suspicious expression.
“No, a few weeks, like three,” he corrected. “I don’t consider an hour and a couple of minutes a flight across the country,” Nicholas stated.
“Seriously, what makes this woman so endearing?” Karl wouldn’t drop the subject.
“I’m a minister, and she has a wounded soul that needs healing.”
“Mm-hmm,” the couple said in harmony.
Nicholas ended the discussion when his nephews ran into the room, wanting him to play football.
When he returned home, Nicholas called to check on Rachel again. Her voicemail was full. Although disappointed, he was glad that she had an outpouring of support.
After getting home from work Thursday morning, Nicholas crashed. Good thing he had already packed for the short trip. That evening, while sitting in the terminal for his flight to St. Louis, his conversation with his brother and sister-in-law resurfaced. Why was he dropping his plans—although he had nothing urgent for the weekend anyway—to attend an out-of-state funeral where he barely knew the deceased or her family?
The flight was uneventful and ahead of schedule, and Marcus had insisted on being at Lambert Airport to greet him. “Glad you could come, man.” They exchanged a fist bump and pat on the back. “It means a lot to us and to Rachel.” The man treated him like an old friend and opened his home for lodging, but Nicholas declined.
“Thanks for allowing me to be a part of the family’s healing process,” Nicholas said, shifting his garment bag over his shoulder. “So how is Rachel coping?”
“I think it’s gonna take a while for all of us, but especially for her, to move on. Aunt Tweet left a legacy.” They chatted about the flight and nothing important as Nicholas followed Marcus to his car in the parking garage.
“Hungry? We have way too much food at the house.” Marcus slid in behind the wheel.
“I’ll eat something at the hotel, but thanks for offering.” He didn’t come to be a burden. This was their family time, and Nicholas didn’t want to intrude, even though he wanted to see Rachel with his own eyes. He would have to wait until tomorrow.
The Hilton St. Louis Airport Hotel was really close. A six-lane highway separated it from the airport terminals. It only took a few minutes for Marcus to drive Nicholas to the hotel entrance.
“Sure you don’t want someone to pick you up for the wake and funeral in the morning?” Marcus double-checked before Nicholas stepped out. “Bethesda Temple is minutes away. It’s not a bother.”
“I’d rather stay in the background. I’ll take a Lyft, so I’m good. Thanks.”
Nicholas checked in, and once he was in his room, he asked himself, “What am I doing here?”
No answers came to mind, so he relaxed, texted his family that he was safe, then ordered room service.
Before climbing in bed, Nicholas stayed on his knees longer, asking God to give the family and mourners comfort in their souls.
* * *
The next morning before leaving the hotel, Nicholas second-guessed his decision to fly to another city to support a woman who didn’t know him beyond his first and last name and the church he attended. His mother had called this morning curious too. Nicholas was sure his big-mouthed brother had been more than happy to put a bug in his mother’s ear.
“I know you have good instincts, Son. Try to keep your heart safe while you get to know this woman better,” Vera Adams advised.
Who said his heart was vested? “Thanks, Mom. I’ll keep you posted on any developments worth sharing.” They spoke a few more minutes, then ended the call so he could make it to the funeral.
When the app alerted him that his Lyft driver was within one minute of him, he grabbed his things and left his hotel room, joining others waiting at the elevator.
He arrived at Bethesda Temple Church in no time, minutes down the interstate from his hotel. The parking lot was packed, so that gave him an indication of the number of mourners inside. Clearly, the woman was well loved. Thanking his driver, Nicholas gave him a cash tip in addition to the one given on the app, then stepped out with his overnight garment bag. He strolled inside and was amazed at the line to sign the condolence book. He took his place, too, if for no other reason than for Rachel to know he came and was among the many to pay their respects.
After his turn, Nicholas walked into the packed sanctuary. He craned his neck to peep out at the family in the front near the pearl-white casket. Marcus spied him and left Tabitha’s side to come and shake his hand.
“Glad you could make it, man.” Marcus glanced around and shook his head. “Aunt Tweet touched many lives.”
Nicholas nodded as he glanced around. “I see. That’s why I’m here.”
Tabitha walked up next to her husband. Her eyes were watery, and her face was red. “Thanks for coming.” Her voice was shaky.
“Of course. Again, you have my condolences.”
“Rachel’s over there, practically guarding Aunt Tweet’s casket. I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you.”
Nicholas kept his eyes focused on Rachel as he trailed other well-wishers who had formed a line toward the front to view the body and offer their condolences. When Nicholas finally reached the casket, he stared at Priscilla Brownlee’s remains. The morticians had done a wonderful job of leaving a lasting impression.
He looked up at Rachel, who seemed to stare past him. Her eyes were swollen. Grief draped her face. He had never seen her hair down—it was long—nor had he seen her dressed in anything but lounge clothes and socks.
“Whatever you need, I’m here for you.” He reached out and cupped her hands. They were cold and trembling. He rubbed her fingers to give them warmth, then released them to step aside so others could offer their sympathies.
She nodded. “Thank you,” she mumbled in a whisper.
Nicholas faded into the crowd and took his seat before the service began. The songs were upbeat, and a handful of people were on the program to give remarks that were cheerful. The mood shifted when the sisters shared their emotional memories of their aunt.
“As the oldest sibling,” Kym said, “Aunt Tweet, along with my parents, instilled in me the importance of leading by example for my younger sisters. I’ll never forget how Mom and Dad turned my failures into teaching moments, which inspired me to pay it forward in academia…”
Next, Marcus assisted his wife up the stairs to the pulpit, then helped Kym down them. Tabitha sniffed. “Simply put, Aunt Tweet was my shero.” She smiled. “Growing up, I was often called mini Priscilla because I looked like her, but I want to think I received more than what was on the outside—a piece of her pure heart. Whenever I needed someone to talk to, Aunt Tweet was never too busy to listen…”
Finally, it was Rachel’s turn, and she ascended the steps slowly. Marcus kept a grip on her arm but didn’t rush her. What a burden that must be, to be the sole brother-in-law to take on the responsibility of three sisters.
Rachel swallowed and began, “As my sisters will agree, I’m the ‘spoiled to a fault’ baby of the family, but the confidence that was nurtured in me as a child allowed me to achieve amazing things as an adult. I loved my parents, and I especially enjoyed being a daddy’s girl. My mother was always there when I needed her.” She bowed her head, then looked up to the ceiling and sniffed.
“But it was Aunt Tweet who gave me an extra dose of her special type of love. I found myself wanting to copy my aunt’s achievements. As her last caregiver—” She paused and patted the podium as if she were keeping time. Nicholas whispered a prayer for her strength. She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Whew. I’ll hold her talks and words of wisdom close to my heart.” She crossed her arms against her chest. “I’ll always love you, Auntie.” She touched her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss to the casket. Her shoulders slumped as if she had released a heavy load.
Marcus was there to help her down, then he released her into the arms of her sisters. Time stood still as they consoled Rachel, guiding her back to the front pew.
Priscilla “Aunt Tweet” Brownlee had had an impact on her nieces that would live on, Nicholas mused.
The musicians struck up a melody as Pastor Kevin Mann approached the podium. He sang a few choruses of “I’ll Fly Away,” which seemed to settle the spirit in the sanctuary. The pastor gave a short but heartfelt eulogy about how death isn’t the end. “In Second Corinthians 5, verses 6 and 8, Paul says, ‘We are always confident, knowing that, whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord.’” He paused. “I don’t know about you, but I want to be with the everlasting God. Verse 8 gives us that hope. Sister Brownlee had hope that she would be present with the Lord.”
At the cemetery, Nicholas stood in the background, observing the three sisters huddled together in a somber moment, watching as two cemetery workers lowered the casket. Mourners seemed to move back in unison, giving the sisters space for their parting thoughts.
Surprisingly, Marcus left his wife’s side and came to stand next to Nicholas with a man he introduced as his older brother, Demetrius. Nicholas shook his hand, then commented, “Rachel’s grieving is so tangible. I can feel the heaviness of her heart from where I’m standing.”
“Yeah.” Marcus didn’t look at him as he slipped his hands in his pockets. “Aunt Tweet passed away under her care. A couple of times, Tabitha and I thought Aunt Tweet might not make it when she lived with her, because she was getting worse. Aunt Tweet was in different stages with each sister, but with Rachel… Whew.” He shook his head. “It was all downhill.”
“I know, right?” Demetrius spoke up. “And that’s why the timing wasn’t right for us to be in a long-distance relationship just as she was about to become a caregiver too.” He shook his head. “Sorry, Bro, I couldn’t be there for her like you were for Tabitha.”
How insensitive is this man? Nicholas thought. Demetrius and Rachel had been an item and the man deserted her when she needed him most? With his sunglasses shielding his eyes, Nicholas studied him. Where Marcus was friendly, his brother seemed too serious and not well suited for Rachel’s personality. She needed pampering, and Demetrius didn’t seem like the type of man to appreciate her.
Wait a minute. Nicholas nipped his judgment call in the bud. He didn’t even know her personality. One thing for sure was Rachel’s commitment to her loved one. Couldn’t that man see it?
Demetrius folded his arms. “Despite a little weight loss, she’s still fine and has those nice legs. I’ll give her some time, then I’ll call to check on her.”
“I thought you said ten years was too much of an age difference between you two?” Marcus asked.
Demetrius shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”
Ten years older than Rachel, and the man still lacked wisdom. Nicholas noted that today was the first time he had seen her appearance polished, and her hair flowed down her back.
He was surrounded by beautiful women inside and outside the church, but he guarded his heart. He had already been burned—no, scorched—when he’d revealed God’s calling him into the ministry and that it may require sacrifices on his time. The woman he’d had the longest relationship with had walked away without looking back. She didn’t want to share him, not even with God.
“Tabitha thought I was a jerk when we first met, but you’re a bigger one, Bro,” Marcus said.
Score. Nicholas kept a straight face, but he wanted to smirk and give Marcus a fist bump. As Rachel started to cry and became unsteady on her feet, Nicholas motioned to go to her rescue, but Marcus’s hand kept him rooted in place.
“This is their private moment. My brother and I have learned not to interrupt the Knicely sisters. As the oldest, Kym likes to handle situations with her sisters,” Marcus said.
One day, Rachel wouldn’t need her sisters but would rely on a man who loved her to be there to console her, love her, and cherish her. Nicholas frowned at his assessment, wondering how he thought he knew so much about a woman he barely knew. When the sisters turned to head back to the waiting limo, the crowd followed, including Nicholas, who hoped to find answers to his muddled thoughts.
Chapter 7
What an emotional day—no, an emotional week—no, her life as Aunt Tweet’s caregiver had been a roller-coaster ride. While others were eating, chatting, harmlessly laughing to cheer up the family at the repast, Rachel slipped out of the fellowship hall to the parking lot to breathe. It had been a long day.
Despite the large turnout for Aunt Tweet’s homegoing, Rachel felt alone. Jacqui would probably strangle her for saying that, as her best friend hadn’t left her side since the day after Aunt Tweet’s passing. Come to think of it, Rachel was surprised Jacqui wasn’t hot on her trail now. She was aware that Nicholas had attended the funeral, and she would forever be grateful for his act of kindness.
Yet even with her best friend and sisters, Rachel felt empty. Aunt Tweet had always understood her moods before Alzheimer’s set in. As the wind blew, she looked up and searched the clouds. Nicholas had mentioned a passage in Thessalonians about a trumpet announcing God’s return through the clouds.
With Aunt Tweet gone, there would be no more ministerial visits. It was up to Rachel to do her own soul-searching, and she needed inspiration now more than ever to ease the hurt of her wounded spirit.
She continued her stroll down one aisle of the parking lot, inhaling the unseasonably warm April air and gaining strength from the sunshine. Although her mind was drifting as she recalled happ
y times with her aunt, she heard footsteps behind her.
“Rachel.” The voice was unmistakable. Had she conjured him up? A breeze brought a whiff of a familiar cologne to confirm Nicholas was nearby.
She shaded her eyes from the sunlight with her hands until he stood within a few feet of her. She had never seen him dressed up before, and he was handsome beyond measure in a suit and tie. He looked serious until he caught her staring again, and he smiled.
“I saw you step out. I wanted to check on you. Are you okay?” He frowned.
“Will I ever be?” she said more to herself. “I was hoping no one saw me,” she said, “especially Jacqui.”
“Yes, you will, and I did.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m flying out in a few hours, but I would like to pray with you before I go.”
Why did his words seem to lighten her burdens? “Thanks for coming here.” Rachel’s eyes watered, but she got a handle on her emotions. “I didn’t realize ministers attended the funerals, especially those who are out of town.”
“I wanted to be here for you. The location didn’t matter.”
“Thank you, Minister Adams.”
“Always Nicholas to you. I don’t need the title to do God’s work.” His words were kind and thoughtful.
“Okay.” She studied him, really looked at him. Was there a special lady in his life waiting for him to propose? If so, the woman had a keeper, Rachel thought as he watched her.
Nicholas blinked first, then cleared his throat. “I called a couple of times to check up on you. Did you get my messages?”
Rachel shrugged. “Jacqui has been checking messages, answering emails, and stuff. I’m sorry.” She bowed her head, embarrassed.
“Hey.” That low voice of his gently commanded her to look at him. “I’m available to listen about anything whenever you want to talk.”
He reached for her hands. His fingers were coarse but gentle. “Father, in the name of Jesus, let Rachel feel Your presence from this day forward. Comfort her when she’s lonely, and when she’s weak, give her strength. And let the memories of her aunt give her joy…”
