by Pat Simmons
His words were like a balm to her spirit. Rachel whispered, “Amen,” with him when he finished. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. Take time to heal emotionally and mentally. There’s no expiration date for the process, and remember what I said—if you call me, I’ll listen.” He frowned, and his stare was intense. “I mean that, Rachel,” he said and squeezed her hand.
Although the gesture was comforting, Rachel yearned for a hug, one of those cocoon-type embraces where she could close her eyes and sigh as she snuggled. But she had no one to offer her that.
When he released his hold, his eyes seemed to dance with amusement as he glanced down at her feet. “Oh, and I wouldn’t walk too far in those heels. My feet hurt even thinking about it.” He shivered, then chuckled before he swaggered away.
“A man with a sense of humor.” Mirth stirred in her belly until a chuckle escaped her lips. He actually had made her laugh.
Later that night, back at Tabitha and Marcus’s house in her old neighborhood, the sisters’ heels, dresses, and makeup came off. They lounged in the family room in their flannel pj’s, reminiscing about Aunt Tweet and the sizeable inheritance she had left them.
Marcus entered the room. “Came to check on you ladies and give my wife this.” He leaned over the sofa and brushed a kiss against Tabitha’s lips.
Rachel’s heart fluttered; she longed for that type of deep-rooted affection. The couple was a perfect match for each other. He had been Tabitha’s rock when she needed it. Aunt Tweet had been a handful while she stayed with Tabitha, but Marcus had somehow wormed his way into their lives and charmed her aunt and Tabitha too.
“Okay, I came for what I needed. Carry on.” He grinned and ducked to escape the pillow Tabitha aimed at her new hubby’s head.
When Tabitha faced her sisters, Rachel and Kym were smiling.
“You’ve definitely got you a winner, Sis,” Kym said and sighed. “Honestly, I thought Rachel would beat us to the altar.”
“Me too,” Tabitha agreed, “but I have no regrets about being first. Aunt Tweet harped on having no regrets, and I have none being Mrs. Marcus Whittington.”
“I don’t know why you thought I would get hitched first.” Rachel shook her head.
Kym gave her a surprised look. “Because you draw men like a car show—from your sultry voice to your calculated catwalk to your form-fitting fashions. You, dear baby sister, have men wrapped around your manicured finger.”
“I think that was wishful thinking, but you don’t see any standing in line with a ring, do you?” Rachel challenged them.
“Nicholas Adams might be a prospect. Marcus likes him, and he did make a special trip to be by your side during our sorrow.” Tabitha nodded. “And that man is downright good-looking.”
“Nope.” Kym shook her head. “He’s hot—sizzling,” she teased.
“He’s a minister. That’s what he does—prays and is there for people.”
“I think you need to rethink that, because I would give that darker version of actor Daniel Supta a second look.”
“It’s Sunjata who played on Graceland, and both men are unmistakably handsome. I figured ministers are attracted to women of God like missionaries or evangelists, and as my two sisters have pointed out, I may have other men wrapped tight, but Nicholas—I mean—Minister Adams’s focus is on God’s work.”
“If you say so,” Kym said and eyed Tabitha. “You may be part of his work in progress in a personal way.”
Nicholas wasn’t interested in her in that way. He hadn’t asked for a date or dinner but offered her prayer, which, surprisingly, Rachel couldn’t get enough of, as if she were dying of thirst and hearing it quenched it.
Chapter 8
Nicholas knew Rachel wasn’t going to reach out to him. Now that he was back home in Nashville, he would give her some time, then call to check up on her. She had dominated enough of his thoughts. He had to switch gears. It was six o’clock on a Saturday night, and it was date night—just not for him. Nicholas didn’t get a chance to count to ten before his doorbell rang. He smirked in amusement as he answered his door.
“I was hoping you would be back in time for our date night,” Karl said, his twin sons jumping between their parents, screaming, “Uncle Nick.”
“You know, I think our parents need to retire so they can sit at home like old folks and wait for their grandkids to come visit.”
Nicholas chuckled. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Vera and Thurman Adams still worked and had a large circle of friends who kept them entertained on the social calendar. Plus, his father was a deacon at the Believers Temple Church. Despite their busy schedules, their parents spent as much time with their grand twins as they could, and so did Nicholas.
Unlike their last visit, his nephews wanted to binge on children’s programs. What kind of uncle would he be not to indulge them? Nicholas watched television with them until they became bored and begged him to read to them. By the time Nicholas finished the Do Not Bring Your Dragon to the Library thirty-plus-page book, the boys had dozed off. Smiling, he planted kisses on both of their heads. Whenever he had children, Nicholas hoped they would be like his nephews.
His mind drifted to Rachel. At her aunt’s funeral, he could feel the heavy sorrow in her heart. How was she faring today? When would she return to Music City? He had so many questions and no right to the answers.
A week later, Nicholas got an unexpected call. It was from a St. Louis area code, and the only people he knew lived there were Rachel’s family, so he answered.
“Man, thanks again for being there for us,” Marcus said. “We’re going to be in town next week to start packing up Aunt Tweet’s things. She doesn’t have much—bedroom furniture, clothes, and some knickknacks. The sisters want to do it together. Why don’t you stop by? I could use another male in the house.”
Nicholas grinned. He liked Marcus’s friendliness but gave the invitation a second thought. “I’m sure that will be an emotional moment. Are you sure you want an outsider there?” Nicholas believed in giving people their privacy.
“You’re not an outsider. God sent you into our lives for a reason,” Marcus assured him.
Nicholas wondered if Rachel felt the same way. “Thank you for saying that. Since it’s Rachel’s place, please understand that I would like to double-check with her.” Marcus’s call gave Nicholas a reason to reach out to Rachel. Minutes after ending their call, Nicholas’s heart pounded as he dialed and waited for Rachel to answer.
“Hello.”
Wow. Although he had only spoken to her on the phone once, he hadn’t noticed then how sultry her voice sounded. It made his heart race. He refocused before he became tongue-tied. “Hi, this is Nicholas. How are you?”
“A little better than the last time you saw me. Each day sparks a new memory, but I’ll get through it.” Her answer sounded forced, as if she was trying to convince herself and him.
“I had hoped you would’ve called me.” Nicholas watched his tone to mask his disappointment and not to come across as accusatory.
She sighed. “I thought about it, especially when I wake up and there’s no one there to check on or sit with or to prepare a meal for.” She paused and sighed. “I figured you were ministering to other families, so I didn’t want to bother you. I mean, I’m a big girl, so I’ll have to handle my emotions by myself.”
It hurt that Rachel thought she was merely a name on a list. “Despite what women believe, a man can multitask. I want to hear your voice, even if you think you’re just rambling.” It was a voice that could lure a man into a trance—maybe the phone wasn’t a good thing. “I’m calling because Marcus asked that I stop by and help you pack up your aunt’s things. I would like to if you’re okay with that.”
“I’d like that.” She sounded like she might be smiling.
“Then I’ll be there.” He guessed she had no
thing else to say. “Thanks for letting me into your life.” He found himself blushing.
“No, thank you for coming into Aunt Tweet’s life and mine.”
When Nicholas ended the call, Rachel’s words lingered in his head. Now he had a reason to see Rachel again. What was wrong with him? “The woman is still mourning, and you’re attracted to her?” he scolded himself.
The next week, late Saturday morning, Nicholas arrived at Rachel’s condo bearing pastries and coffee from Frothy Monkey, which roasted their beans locally. Their coffee was always fresh.
Rachel opened the door, and her eyes widened in delight. “Oooh.” She snatched the box from his hands. “My favorite.” She turned toward the kitchen, then looked over her shoulder as if remembering his presence. “Oh, thanks, Nicholas. Sorry. Come on in.” Her eyes sparkled, and her sass was welcoming.
Yep, he liked this in-person encounter with Rachel much better. Nicholas gave her a quick perusal. Her hair was in a long braid, and she wore a T-shirt with #TeamTweetyBird, which he assumed was her favorite cartoon character.
“Put me to work.” He smiled and closed the door to follow her into the kitchen, where a couple of boxes were set up.
“Not until we indulge in these goodies,” Rachel said.
“Hey, we just took a break,” Kym said, fussing as she came around the corner, then pausing when she saw him. “Hey, Nicholas, thanks for coming, because Marcus needs help.”
As if the doorbell indicated a time-out, Rachel’s best friend, Jacqui, jogged down the few steps from the loft, and her eyes widened. “Hi, Minister.”
Shaking his head, he slipped his hands into his pockets. “Please just call me Nicholas.”
“Okay.” Jacqui grinned, then nudged Rachel as if there was a secret between the two ladies.
As the ladies decided on their selections, Marcus appeared, huffing as he dumped a heavy box on the floor. He stood and greeted Nicholas with a handshake and hearty pat on the back. “Good to see you, man.”
Marcus put him to work right away, disassembling the bedroom furniture. The packing was slow going for the sisters. If it wasn’t for Jacqui taking charge, Nicholas doubted anything would get done.
After a few hours, he and Marcus took a breather. “Are you sure you don’t want us to take Sweet Pepper back home?” Marcus asked, rubbing behind the Yorkie’s ears.
“Nope.” Rachel shook her head. “Shelby needs someone to bark at. We agreed: I’ll keep the dog; you and Tabitha get Aunt Tweet’s furniture.”
“Don’t forget her scarves, especially the red one.” Marcus grinned, then winked at his wife.
“Ah, yes. The infamous red scarf that was Aunt Tweet’s calling card on Marcus’s porch.” Tabitha closed her eyes and sighed.
The sisters shared giggles but not the story that piqued Nicholas’s curiosity. Maybe one day, he would hear about Priscilla Brownlee’s antics.
“And we’re still debating on the jewelry,” Kym said. “Rachel and I might split that.”
“Deal.” Rachel nodded.
Nicholas watched the sisters’ harmonious interaction, and it warmed his soul. So many times, he had witnessed downright bitterness and discord among families over the deceased’s material goods.
“Speaking of pooches, I’ll take them outside for exercise,” Marcus volunteered. “Nicholas, walk with me.”
It didn’t sound like an invitation. Nicholas heard the underlying command, so he went along. Inside the elevator, the doors had barely closed when Marcus turned to him. “You like her, don’t you? No need to deny it.” He didn’t give Nicholas a chance to confirm or deny. “Those Knicely sisters are hard to resist, man.”
Once they were outside on the sidewalk, Marcus handed Shelby’s leash to Nicholas and asked, “Which way?”
After giving it some thought, Nicholas made a suggestion. “Elmington Park is closer than Centennial Dog Park.”
“Sounds good,” Marcus said, and they started their trek as the dogs led the way. “So, back to Rachel. I can see you really care about her, and she needs that from a man.”
“She didn’t have that with your brother,” Nicholas couldn’t help but say. “I gathered from the conversation at the cemetery.”
“My brother”—Marcus shook his head—“needs a relationship 101 class. He’s not your competition.”
“Noted.” Nicholas tugged on the leash to keep from steering toward another dog. “Since we’re having this heart-to-heart confidential chat: I’m struggling with my emotions. The attraction is there for me. But should it be? Is it too soon?” Nicholas didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m not sure if she is attracted to me or she considers my sole purpose performing God’s ministry and nothing more. Where do I stand with her?”
Marcus bobbed his head as Sweet Pepper stopped for a potty break. “You’ve got a lot of questions going on there. I suggest you get answers.”
* * *
After the men left, Rachel knew it was only a matter of time before Jacqui would start meddling.
Jacqui fanned her face. “Whew. That minister is too good-looking to be single!”
“No doubt about that. He’s pretty-boy fine,” Rachel said casually as she folded up more of Aunt Tweet’s things. “It’s his eyes that got me the first time, but it’s something about his touch—”
“Hold up.” Kym stopped what she was doing, turned around, and squinted. “Touch? What kind of touch?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. I’ve been a caregiver, remember?” Rachel shrugged. “Nothing close to being sexual. I’m talking about when he held my hand to pray.” She refrained from shivering, remembering his strong hands and gentle voice.
“Then he’s a keeper,” Tabitha said with a wide grin. “Marcus was there for me every step of the way with Aunt Tweet. I love that man like crazy.”
Kym laughed. “We know.”
“Nicholas hopped on a plane to be at the funeral,” Jacqui reminded her. “I’ll give the preacher man a brownie for that.”
“You did the same thing,” Rachel pointed out.
“Yeah, but I’m your bestie, so I’m supposed to be there. Hmm.”
“You’re not attracted to him?” Kym asked and lifted her brow, then returned to sorting items to be given away to charity.
“Well, yes,” Rachel slowly admitted, but she was quick to add, “I love to hear him read from the Bible. He’s better than any narrator I’ve ever heard, and did I say I like the way he takes my hand and prays? Doesn’t sound sexy, does it?”
“He sounds like a man I want,” Jacqui added.
“Me too,” Kym agreed.
“Got mine,” Tabitha said smugly.
“Aunt Tweet is gone, so soon he’ll return to his regular activities, which include church for him and not for me. Right now, I’m trying to adjust to a life without Aunt Tweet. I lost a part of me.” Rachel patted her chest. “I need time to repurpose my life, and until I’m ready to reappear, I plan to stay hidden away in my cocoon,” she admitted.
“I get that, and I’m definitely not rushing your healing process. Aunt Tweet was a special lady.” Jacqui paused. “But come next Thursday, you’ve got to step out of that cocoon and come with me to the NFL Draft.”
Rachel slapped her forehead. “I forgot about that.” She sighed.
“Well, I just reminded you, because I got these pricey tickets, and I refuse to go with anybody else, so what time are we leaving for the NFL Experience?”
“Number one, I won the tickets in a sweepstakes, so you’re not out any money.”
“You weren’t supposed to remember that.” Jacqui grinned, and Rachel’s sisters laughed.
Rachel was fine with the world moving on, but she couldn’t right now. “Jac, I know they are nicknaming this event Draftville and there is a lot of hype, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to work the social scene again l
ike I own it and act like I don’t have a care in the world.” She was becoming emotional, and they must have sensed it, because all three rushed to her side.
After a brief quiet moment, Kym spoke. “We all feel the pain, but I’m concerned that depression may creep if you shut out the world.” She squeezed Rachel’s hand and smiled. “Sis, we don’t want that. I’m not saying resume your crazy social calendar when you’re so busy we can’t track you down.”
“Yep.” Tabitha nodded and folded her arms.
“I know if Baltimore were hosting the draft, my girlfriends and I would go,” Kym said.
“See, keyword girlfriends.” Jacqui lifted her chin.
Her big sisters’ words carried a lot of weight, so Rachel gave it some serious thought. She had put her social life on hold to care for Aunt Tweet. Now that she was gone, Rachel did need to fill that void. If anyone had her back, besides her sisters, Jacqui did. Plus, she and her friend both had cleared their schedules after Nashville was picked as the host city. Three days of music, entertainment, and sports, she reasoned with herself. “Okay, maybe I can dig deep and turn on my charm for one night just for you.” Rachel squinted. “But if I feel a meltdown coming…”
“We’re out of there.” Jacqui stood and lifted her arms in the air. “Touchdown.”
Chapter 9
Life goes on. More than one person had told Rachel that since Aunt Tweet’s funeral three weeks ago—her sisters, friends, her colleagues when she had returned to work, even Mother Jenkins. But when did that happen?
Reclining on her balcony with the pooches under her feet, Rachel convinced herself she wasn’t depressed. “I’ve just lost my creativity,” she mumbled as the sounds of the city buzzed fourteen floors below her on West End Avenue.
She admitted she was lonely, which was odd. With a full social calendar, Rachel had never felt alone before. With Aunt Tweet gone, she longed for companionship, a family… What is wrong with you?
