Lean on Me (ARC)

by Pat Simmons

  The room was quiet, except for the icemaker. They all were focusing on Aunt Tweet’s health. “If it wasn’t for the adult day care and Marcus, I might have been unemployed by now. The stress is overwhelming.” Tabitha closed her eyes and exhaled.

  “Speaking of Marcus, how much of a distraction is he?” Kym asked.

  Tabitha folded her legs under her bottom, giving herself time to decide how to take her sister’s inquiry. It sounded more like an accusation. “What are you saying?”

  “Aunt Tweet is our focus. She needs closer supervision.” Her older sister paused. “Don’t get me wrong. Marcus seems nice and all, and beyond good-looking, but ask yourself if you have time to get deep in a relationship.”

  Humph. Tabitha didn’t have to ask herself. She knew the answer the moment Marcus hinted he was interested in her. She thought her crisis would scare him away, but he bounced back stronger. Now, she drew on his strength to keep her sanity.

  When it came to relationships, Kym was skeptical, picky, and untrusting of hot looks and sweet words. A teenage crush had done her in many years ago, and it seemed to change her idea of happily ever after, even decades later.

  “Do you think she is wandering as a way to get your attention? Maybe she feels threatened by Marcus,” Kym said, voicing her concern.

  Tabitha laughed at the absurdity. “Did you forget that Marcus is in my life because of Aunt Tweet?” She pointed toward the stairway. The sisters rarely bumped heads about anything growing up because she and Rachel would follow the leader. That’s what made their relationship harmonious. But since they’d reached adulthood, they’d had no problem discussing opposing viewpoints.

  This was supposed to be a stress-free weekend. “I know she was in good hands with you as her caregiver, Kym. Since I’ve picked up the torch, I live and breathe Aunt Tweet from the time I wake until my head hits the pillow. I look for and crave those moments where I can inhale more of her pearls of wisdom.” Her eyes watered, but she refused to release the tears. Her caregiving journey was making her emotional. This wasn’t about whining but stating a point. “After my rocky start with Marcus, he has shown himself to be caring, kind, and there when I call. He’s not a part of this discussion because he genuinely cares about us.”

  “A man who is at your beck and call.” Rachel gave a slow grin. “I love it. I think it’s sweet he wants to be a part of our lives.” Lifting her hand, she leaned over for a high five.

  Amused at her baby sister, who supplied the comedy relief the moment it was needed, Tabitha tapped her hand against Rachel’s.

  “Okay.” Kym conceded with a shrug. “So what’s on the agenda tomorrow?”

  “Church,” Tabitha told her. “Aunt Tweet likes the one across the street from Bermuda Place. I think the music pulls out a happy place within her, which has sparked her to sing or hum.”

  “Umm-hmm.” Kym scooted up from her resting position on the sofa. “I don’t recall her mentioning growing up in church or wanting to attend one while she lived with me in Baltimore, but who are we to deny her whatever she wants?”

  “Exactly,” Tabitha agreed. “Every day she surprises me. She’s convinced Marcus that she was once a model, performed in a dance troupe, and won an all-white beauty pageant.”

  Kym laughed and threw her hands up in disbelief. “This Aunt Tweet you’re describing is foreign to me.”

  You’re not the only one. She kept her thoughts to herself. “Dementia has so many symptoms, and I don’t know if Aunt Tweet is making things up to entertain herself or sharing a piece of her that she’s kept hidden.” With that said, Tabitha stood, stretched, and announced she was going to sleep. Her sisters would sleep in the bedroom Tabitha and Rachel had shared growing up.

  After saying her prayers, Tabitha snuggled under the covers. She hugged her pillow, then reached for her phone on the nightstand. She preferred not to text or email folks after eleven at night in case they were sleeping, and the alerts might disturb them. This time, she couldn’t resist reaching out to Marcus.

  Thank you for today.

  Surprisingly, he responded right back. Anything for you!

  I believe you.

  Resting her phone back on the nightstand, she smiled and drifted off to sleep, wondering what a real date with Marcus Whittington would be like if she wasn’t a caregiver. Of course, dating wasn’t part of her reality, but she could dream about it every night.

  * * *

  Marcus smiled as he read Tabitha’s text. He would give anything to talk to her right now. Instead, he was still stuck with his brother at a sports bar.

  Before glancing up, he could feel Demetrius staring at him. “What?”

  “Oh nothing.” He displayed a teasing grin before he lifted his glass in salute. “She has you wrapped around her finger, Bro.”

  “They both do.” He wasn’t shy about admitting his deep attraction to Tabitha and his affection for Aunt Tweet. For hours, he had gone through the motions of enjoying himself hanging out with his brother. In honesty, he desperately wanted to check in with Tabitha to make sure she was all right. Her sisters’ presence hindered that. However, the tradeoff was she had a temporary respite from caring for Aunt Tweet solo when he wasn’t around.

  “Yup.” Demetrius took another sip and scanned the bar, then, in a casual manner, stated, “I can see why you’ve been distracted all evening.” He pointed his fingers at his eyes, then turned his two fingers at Marcus’s eyes. “She’s pretty, but her sister Rachel…wow. But too young for me. At thirty-eight, I don’t date women in their twenties. I’m not babysitting someone who is ten years younger than me.”

  He tilted his head. “And you know that how?”

  “I asked.”

  “I see, so…if you asked, you’re interested.” When his brother remained silent, Marcus pressed. “Well, aren’t you?”

  He was more than interested in Tabitha. He really cared for her. What was the definition for true love?

  Latrice making her plea for Victor flashed before his eyes. Wasn’t out of sight supposed to be out of mind? How was their relationship a model example?

  “Hey.” Demetrius nudged him. “I said I’m more curious than interested in Rachel, but I guess your mind was on another Knicely sister.”

  “Nope.” Marcus rubbed his face in annoyance. “Actually, Latrice got in my head, and she jumps out when I least expect it and somehow keeps nagging me.”

  Finishing his drink, Demetrius smacked his lips while shifting his weight on an unsteady stool. “Man, let that go. Victor is history. He messed up, so he’s out.”

  “Yep. I agree, hundred percent.” Marcus bobbed his head.

  “Give her a warning that if she approaches you again with that nonsense, she could lose her job too.”

  I have. Marcus tapped his finger on the bar counter. “You’re so rough around the edges.”

  “No, I’m a businessman who follows the rules. You may have the heart, but I have the brains to run a tight ship. Did you forget I earned my MBA first and graduated magna cum laude?”

  Marcus shrugged. “You got me there.” He had received his MBA last year at the state university near his home.

  “Well, let’s call it a night.” He summoned the bartender for their bill.

  Demetrius gave him a dumbfounded look. “Really?” He checked the time. “This early? Tomorrow’s Sunday, so what’s the deal with an early bedtime?”

  “It’s called ‘getting some rest.’”

  Chapter 18

  Sunday morning, Latrice didn’t wake Marcus with a phone call, but her voice and her request were revolving in his head, so much so that he couldn’t get back to sleep. When it came to helping people, Marcus’s pockets were deep. His employees, Tabitha, and Aunt Tweet were witnesses to that. Victor, on the other hand… He had to draw the line. It seemed like the more he pushed back on that request, the more Latrice go
t into his head.

  Staring up at the ceiling, Marcus groaned. He told Demetrius he was going to get some rest, but it didn’t appear his mind was going to let him do that. He thought about Tabitha and remembered she was attending church with her family. Not that church was on his agenda, but wherever Tabitha was, he wanted to be near her. Why did the old Michael Jackson hit “Got to Be There” come to mind? Because you got it bad. He grinned. Yeah. He did.

  Marcus wasn’t opposed to church, but it had never been a priority. After getting out of bed, he shaved and showered. He chose his brown suit and a light-colored tie—attire rarely worn to the office.

  Tabitha had mentioned Aunt Tweet dragging her to church. Maybe Aunt Tweet had a hand in getting him there this morning too. He called Tabitha to let her know his intention but got her voicemail.

  Not knowing the time service started, he drove to Tabitha’s, seeing her car was parked in the driveway. A playful thought came to him as he was about to ring the doorbell. She would see the humor of him perched on her porch. This scenario was how it all started for them—Aunt Tweet staking her claim on his property.

  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 white flight. The residents were mixed in ethnicity and income. One thing everyone had in common was commitment to preserving the historic value of their homes.

  Not wanting to wait, Marcus opted to ring the doorbell. Seconds later, he rang it 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. 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 looked femininely soft and flirty and curved around her hips.

  Mesmerized, he leaned forward. “You’re gorgeous.” His heart rate still hadn’t recovered. He inhaled and exhaled without taking his eyes off her. “I had 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, except for the hat and Bible. “We’re going to be late.” She was clearly ready to go.

  “Give us a few minutes.” Tabitha paused. “Can you believe she overslept, and I had to wake her up?” She chuckled and Marcus was a goner. “So, you’re on guard 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 and lowered his voice. “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 down her defenses.

  “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 them, 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 looked nice too.

  “Nope.” Knowing his brother, he was probably sleeping in, as Marcus usually did on Sunday mornings.

  A flash of disappointment crossed Rachel’s face, then she wiped it away with a smile and a shrug. “His loss. We’re going to hear Aunt Tweet sing.”

  Aunt Tweet began to fuss, ready to go. Marcus was certain that if Tabitha’s aunt got behind the wheel, she would be halfway to the church. Other drivers beware.

  Tabitha handed him two strips of bacon in a napkin, then appeared to do a head count before ushering them out the door and locking it. He held off the urge to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her closer.

  He took a bite—“Crispy”—and finished by the time all the ladies were in the car. He drove off, taking a shortcut through side streets to get to Bethesda Temple Church in no time.

  Once they had parked, he escorted his passengers inside. The Knicely sisters were eye-catching individually, but together, they were showstoppers. An usher led them to a pew. Minutes later, an elderly woman 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 took up their instruments. Three women and two men stood behind microphones and rallied the crowd.

  “Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord, everybody!” Aunt Tweet didn’t move, then the group started singing “How Great Thou Art,” and the melodious words spilled from the older woman’s mouth like a young songbird.

  When another tune began, Aunt Tweet picked up that beat to “I Know I’ve Been Changed.” Marcus 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 message the Lord has tailored for each of you,” the pastor advised before leading the congregation in a prayer.

  After a chorus of “amen,” Pastor Nelson cleared his throat and scanned the sanctuary. “Not long ago, I preached on stress. Another way to reduce it for Christians is to forgive without keeping score—no exceptions. In Matthew 18:22, the Bible tells us to forgive seventy times seventy. You’re using too much wasted energy to track 490 offenses. You’ll feel better when you do, get a good night’s sleep…”

  “Hey, you look so intense,” Tabitha said in a low voice.

  Marcus sat straighter. “I’m paying attention.” He patted her hand. Her softness begged him not to let go. He couldn’t, and she let him hold on.

  Aunt Tweet shushed them.

  The pastor continued, “When it comes to forgiving others, we have to remember their walk, hardships, and mistakes in life may be different from our own. They may do things you never would, but Jesus says to forgive them.”

  Forgive. 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 indiscretions.

  “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. Don’t have any regrets beginning now. 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.

  “Has God spoken to your heart today? Will you listen? You no longer have to be a sinner. Your salvation journey can start today right here at the altar.”

  While Marcus refused to move his legs,
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.”

  Aunt Tweet seemed determined to get in the prayer line. Marcus stood, so she could exit as his mind wandered. So Sunday’s message was about forgiveness. Latrice and Victor’s dilemma resurfaced. Would he regret not helping Victor later, or would he be a fool to help the loser now?

  * * *

  Tabitha was disappointed Marcus declined her invitation to join them for dinner after church. Once everyone else feasted on dinner purchased from Lee’s Famous Chicken, Kym was back to peppering their aunt about her church experience. “Now…Tell me again what happened?”

  Squinting, Aunt Tweet seemed to strain her brain to remember. “I’m too old to go to the grave with regrets of things I said to folks, the way I acted or other things. I needed forgiveness. That young man prayed for me, and something inside of me exploded.” She sighed and smiled.

  “Really?” Tabitha asked. Not only could Aunt Tweet sing, but she used her lungs to release an inner voice that was strong, youthful, and let out piercing cries to God.

  “This is not the same woman who lived with me.” Kym looked bewildered.

  “Sometimes, she’s not the same woman I’ve known all my life either,” Tabitha admitted. “But the doctor advised us to expect the unexpected. 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.”