Lean on Me (ARC)

by Pat Simmons

  He wanted to ask her Wouldn’t you? But he might not like her answer, considering Tabitha was more compassionate than he was. The way she doted on Aunt Tweet, Marcus doubted she would turn anyone down who needed help.

  “Yep. My decision was final.” He tapped his finger on the table as if he were typing periods at the end of a sentence. “But Latrice seems to think otherwise. The Sunday sermon on forgiveness brought Victor’s situation to the forefront of my mind. I was mentally gripping that pew, silently shouting no way!”

  “But now? Did something change?” She scooped up a bite of potato salad and chewed, waiting for his answer. For once, neither one of them was looking over their shoulders to monitor Aunt Tweet’s whereabouts. Her sisters were on duty, allowing them to focus on each other’s concerns.

  Marcus shrugged and twisted his jaw before making his confession. “If forgiving him means helping Victor one last time, I’d rather look the other way. But the message was like a screwdriver drilling deeper into my psyche. It messed me up! God wants me to forgive seventy times seven…or seven times seventy? Whatever the formula, same answer.” He continued his rant. “I thought Sunday sermons are supposed to be inspiring, not necessarily Bible-based, where I can’t win the argument. I couldn’t wait for the sermon to end and to get out of there. That didn’t help because even then, it seemed like the preacher’s voice followed me from room to room. My parents didn’t raise any fools.” He swiped his bottled water and took a swig.

  “Maybe you’re overthinking this,” Tabitha softly said. “We’re both caregivers in a sense. My charge is a loved one. The object of your frustration—”

  “Is no blood relation to me,” Marcus said, “so I think I should be off the hook, right?”

  Tilting her head, Tabitha seemed to study him. “Do you have to have a reason to do good?”

  He gave her question some thought. She was right. “No,” Marcus admitted.

  “Just like you’re doing good for me and Aunt Tweet.” She rested her hand over his again. “If Victor is in jail, surely he could use some goodness right now. Too many of our black men are incarcerated for no criminal offense. Rescue him.” She shrugged. “That’s just my two cents, but I’m not in your shoes.” She snickered and Marcus got the joke.

  “I knew there was a reason why I liked you. Beauty, brains, and a soft heart—the best combination.”

  Wrapping his hand over hers, he brought it to his lips and brushed a kiss on it. He watched as she shivered, while he concealed his own reaction. He couldn’t wait to kiss her.

  “Stop flirting with me,” Tabitha teasingly scolded. “We’re having a serious conversation and I know how it feels to be frustrated. I live in that state every day. I signed up to be my aunt’s caregiver thinking I knew what I was in for. I didn’t.”

  She sighed. “But here I am. Aunt Tweet’s needs supersedes the Knicely sisters’ lives as long Aunt Tweet is alive, which I hope is a long time,” she added quickly. “Sometimes I go to bed so exhausted… I’ve become a light sleeper, listening for any movement from her room. Now, I notice her hygiene isn’t the best, so I’m helping her with bathing. I tell myself it’s a pleasure to take care of her as she was always there for us.” She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Sometimes I don’t have any pleasure in doing certain tasks.”

  Suddenly, the weight on her shoulders seemed to reappear and Marcus took the blame. “Aunt Tweet gives me a reason to spend time with you. Otherwise, we might never have crossed paths.”

  “Marcus, I will never regret how we met—never.” She smiled, stood, and gathered their discarded plates and cups. “We’d better head back. My sisters have already given me a half-hour respite.”

  “What about the tour?”

  “I’ll come back—promise.” She smiled.

  When they strolled into the warehouse, they were surprised to see children gathered around Aunt Tweet.

  “They’ve tricked her into reading them a story.” He chuckled. “They love story time.”

  Tabitha gnawed on her lips. “Her Alzheimer’s is preventing her from recognizing certain words.”

  “But she’s pulling it off.” Taking her hand, they slowly approached the group. Even though Aunt Tweet had an opened storybook on her lap, the tale she was weaving wasn’t coming from it.

  “The little boys and girls had a contest to see who could whistle the loudest and longest,” Aunt Tweet said.

  “Who won?” Gregory Harvey waved his hand in the air. He was the five-year-old son of a new employee.

  “I did.” Aunt Tweet’s eyes sparkled as her audience laughed.

  “They would whistle after they’d done their schoolwork, or I would keep them after school.” She nodded and tried to whistle like her.

  “Every day, I’m learning more about my aunt’s younger years,” Tabitha said to Marcus. “Thank you for the food and company. I need to get back home, so my sisters can pack for their flight.”

  Now? Marcus didn’t want to see her go. He wrapped her in his arms and gave her a hug. He stepped back, realizing his actions had shocked her.

  “What was that for?” Her smile melted his heart.

  “I needed that.” He winked, then escorted them to their car.

  Chapter 20

  The next morning, Tabitha’s limbs refused to move. She was tired after the long weekend with her sisters.

  Rolling out of bed, she dragged her body across the hall. After hearing a light snore, Tabitha returned to her room and rushed through a shower. Next, she gave Aunt Tweet the sponge bath that was overdue from the previous night. She dressed Aunt Tweet, then admired her handiwork. Her aunt looked polished—minus the big, floppy red hat. Remembering Sweet Pepper, she hurried back downstairs to let him out.

  How did working mothers do this day in and out? she wondered while preparing a quick breakfast. Single moms especially deserved an award. She had one elderly great-aunt, yet Tabitha woke up feeling exhausted, as though she mothered a house full of children and tried to remember to do mundane tasks. Half an hour later, the dog was in his kennel, her aunt was color coordinated, and Tabitha opened the door.

  Marcus’s presence startled her, then gave her a jolt of energy. He was leaning against his car with his ankles crossed, holding a flower. Her morning had just gotten better. He pushed off the hood and took long strides toward her.

  “Morning.” She stared at his five o’clock shadow, which had thickened overnight. She yearned to feel its texture but denied herself the temptation. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see you before we both went in opposite directions today.” He handed her the rose, kissed her cheek first, then her aunt’s. Without another word, he strolled back to his car with a swagger that made her lift an eyebrow.

  That gesture kept a smile on Tabitha’s face as she drove Aunt Tweet to Bermuda Place, then headed to Ceyle-Norman to sign out more physician samples. Breezing through the lobby, she waved at Ava Elise. The woman always inspired her to smile. Tabitha missed seeing her every day to soak in her encouraging tidbits about life.

  “Hey. How was your weekend?” Ava Elise’s smile was warm. “Did you get some much-needed rest?”

  Tabitha released a mock laugh. “Anything but that. Saturday was the neighborhood’s summer kickoff. We attended church on Sunday, and then enjoyed a barbecue at my neighbor’s company on Monday. I wish it were Friday already instead of Tuesday.”

  Ava Elise chuckled. “How did your aunt interact with your sisters?”

  “Good. They got a chance to see firsthand some of the things I’d mentioned about her behavior. She even wandered off at the summer kickoff.”

  “Oh no.” Her friend covered her mouth in shock, then removed her hand. “Well, don’t scratch off a nursing facility from your list yet. With them gone, there goes your extra helping hand.”

  Although Tabitha liked Ava Elise,
the mention of a nursing home for Aunt Tweet was almost offensive. “I’m determined to hang in there. I don’t know how much longer my aunt might live anyway.”

  “What do you mean?” Ava Elise gasped. “Is her health declining that rapidly? What’s really going on?”

  Shaking her head, Tabitha wished she knew. “At church on Sunday, my aunt mentioned no regrets and then joined others at the altar for prayer and to be baptized. I’ve never seen anything like it.” She sighed, because she didn’t have answers. “Then I got to thinking—maybe she was asking me if I had any regrets.”

  Her former trainer frowned.

  “I can’t help but wonder if she was asking me if I had regrets, either about taking care of her, or about my life.” She paused. “I do have some regrets. I had hoped taking a job that required less travel and handpicking an upscale adult day care would make the transition easier, plus give us more quality time together, but each day makes that more doubtful.”

  Tabitha stared at nothing, thoughtful. “There is nothing easy about being a caregiver. I leave one job to go home to another one until Aunt Tweet goes to sleep. I never thought being a caregiver for someone you love could be so challenging and exhausting.”

  Ava Elise reached for some tissues, but Tabitha stopped her. “Nope, I refuse to have a breakdown today.” She mustered a smile. “I better go so I can get on the road.”

  “Now, that’s the right attitude of a top sales rep.” Ava Elise gave her a thumbs-up. “You know it’s about to get crazy in the field with reps striving to make those bonuses. If a nursing facility is out of the question, you might want to join an Alzheimer’s Association support group.”

  Aunt Tweet’s doctor in Philly had recommended that too. At the time, the Knicely sisters had balked at the suggestion. They had each other and the situation seemed to be under control. That was then. This was now.

  “Have a nurse’s aide come in the evenings for a couple hours, so you can get some rest,” Ava Elise suggested.

  “I would have to think long and hard about having strangers in my house.” Tabitha turned to check out samples.

  “Don’t rule out that option. God can provide you peace and rest through help from others. I’ll be praying that you receive both,” Ava Elise said softly. She turned and continued down the hall to the conference room, where another training class was waiting to get started.

  Throughout the day, Marcus revisited Tabitha’s mind whenever she was sitting in traffic or waiting in a doctor’s office. Her heart warmed. She thought she didn’t have room in her hectic schedule to date. Somehow, he had effortlessly changed that. If she could rearrange her schedule to see him, she would.

  * * *

  Demetrius was in the office when Marcus arrived. The good mood he possessed earlier after seeing Tabitha had taken flight. No question, his brother would give him grief about the biggest mistake he was about to make in his life, be called the biggest fool ever.

  Yet Tabitha’s gentle nudge toward doing good for the sake of just doing it seemed to settle the turmoil in his heart. His parents had taught their sons to be kind and be of good character, regardless of how people treated them.

  Reluctantly, he accepted his fate to pay Victor’s bond. As long as he convinced himself it was for Latrice and the boys, he felt better about it.

  “What’s up?” Demetrius was too upbeat this morning. What energy drink did he have?

  “You don’t want to know,” Marcus mumbled without making eye contact.

  “What’s wrong with you?” His brother leaned across his desk. “I thought the way you were hovering over Tabitha yesterday, you’d be grinning from ear to ear. And what’s with that hairy stuff on your face?”

  “It’s called growing a beard,” Marcus said.

  “Why?”

  “Because she likes it.” He didn’t have to look at Demetrius to know his brother was amused. Exhaling, he prepared himself to break the news. “Ah, listen, I made a decision about something, and I know you’re not going to agree with it, but hear me out.”

  “As long as it’s not taking money away from our business or affecting our business, then it’s your business.” Demetrius folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.

  “I’m glad you said that because it does involve my money. I decided to put up the money for Victor’s bond.” Marcus counted to three and braced for his brother’s thunder.

  Demetrius snarled before he roared, “What? If my name were on your bank account, I would freeze the assets.”

  “I know.” Marcus scratched his jaw.

  “I can’t believe my younger brother, business partner, and a college graduate with an MBA is being played as a fool.” He banged his fist on his desk. Demetrius was beyond mad.

  Ouch. That hurt, even if the punch wasn’t to his jaw. His brother was right, but Marcus had to believe something good would come out of it. Besides, as long as Victor showed up for court, he would get his money back, so in a sense, he wouldn’t be out the money. If Victor skipped town, then Marcus would hunt him down himself. He sighed, then called Latrice with his decision.

  “God bless you, Mr. Whittington.” She sniffed.

  From Marcus’s viewpoint, it looked like Victor was getting all the blessings. “Right. Give me the particulars, and he’ll be out before the end of the day.”

  Even though Marcus agreed to do it, his mind tried to overrule the generosity he had planned. He waited until the last minute to get a cashier’s check from his bank, then hoped a construction slowdown would prevent him from making it to Saint Louis County Courthouse—anything to extend his former employee’s confinement another day. Unfortunately, everything seemed to be in Victor’s favor. There were no delays getting Clayton to pay the bond, a parking space was available in front of the building with the meter paid for an hour and forty-five minutes, and Marcus didn’t run into anyone familiar who could engage him in conversation and eat up time until the office was closed. So he begrudgingly conducted his business, and minutes later, he watched as an officer removed Victor’s cuffs and escorted him out of confinement. When he met Marcus’s eyes, a cocky grin spread across his face.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Big Shot, coming to my rescue. I’m sure I didn’t put a dent into your savings.”

  Marcus refused to take the bait from this loser. “Trust me, I’m doing this as a favor for Latrice and your sons.” He folded his arms.

  “Well, me and her ain’t together no more.”

  He cringed at the use of improper English, but this was not a mentoring moment. “Good for her. A shame for your boys.” He snorted. “And for the record, your bond money came from my children’s college fund.”

  “Right. You ain’t got no kids.”

  “Not yet, but one day I will.” He thought about Tabitha. Could she be the one? She was the perfect candidate. “As a matter of fact, my lady friend was on board with helping you.” Shaking his head, he continued his march to the door, then felt an overwhelming power that could only have been God stopping him from taking another step.

  Gripping his keys, he spun around. “I’m sure you don’t have bus money, cab fare, or an Uber driver on standby. Would you like a ride somewhere?”

  “I don’t have nowhere to go.” Victor’s rough exterior slipped, and his vulnerability peeked through.

  “Come on. I’ll drop you off at a shelter, and you can figure out your life from there,” he offered.

  “Nah. I got this.”

  “Suit yourself.” Marcus shrugged and walked away.

  Chapter 21

  Tuesday evening, Tabitha craved a nap—fifteen minutes tops—to get rid of the tension headache that had lingered all afternoon. Maybe she could do it with one eye open, watching Aunt Tweet.

  Her aunt’s appetite was increasing while her interest in cooking was wavering, even cooking the occasional hot breakfast on t
he weekends. Tabitha prepared a quick meal of chicken, pasta, and stir-fry vegetables. She wondered if Marcus would stop by. When the doorbell rang half an hour later, her heart fluttered as she tried to stifle a yawn before opening the door.

  He stepped into her foyer and gave her a hug. Umm. The hugs were better than the sweet kiss on the cheek. Reluctantly, she broke their embrace to close the door. He followed her to the kitchen, where Aunt Tweet hadn’t moved from her spot at the table, but she was chewing on something.

  Tabitha squinted. “What are you munching on?” Her aunt chuckled but didn’t answer, so she asked again.

  “I found a piece of candy.”

  “Where?” Not a sweets eater, Tabitha didn’t have candy jars in her house and especially not on the table.

  Her aunt frowned as if she was straining her brain. “At the school where I teach.”

  Taking a peep into her aunt’s purse, which rested on her lap, Tabitha was shocked to find an arsenal of peppermints and butterscotch candies. Clearly, the staffers at the adult care needed to supervise Aunt Tweet near the candy jar. “Dinner’s almost ready, so please don’t eat another piece.”

  Her aunt nodded, and Marcus brushed a kiss on her aunt’s cheek. “Need any help?” he asked.

  You have no idea. He must have read her mind because he scooted her over at the sink and washed his hands. He searched the cabinets for plates and glasses, then set the table.

  “I should have brought some barbecue. We had plenty left over,” he said after they took their seats and said grace.

  “Next time, do that, Mr. Whittington,” Tabitha said, recalling the sauce that melted on her tongue. Yep. She definitely wouldn’t have minded a second serving.

  “Noted.”

  Soon, they were gathered around the table. Marcus gave thanks for their meal and asked the Lord to bless it, then they all said amen. “This is tasty,” he told her. “I have no complaints.”

  “So…did you bail out Victor?” She shoved a fork of vegetables in her mouth and waited for his answer. He eyed her aunt and seemed hesitant to answer. “It’s okay. She’s doesn’t know who we’re talking about.”