by Pat Simmons
Squeezing her hand, Marcus faced Aunt Tweet and smiled. “How ya doing today?”
“Fine, mister,” she said, then sipped hot apple cider from her mug.
Mister. He sighed, hoping he could reach a place deep within her soul where Aunt Tweet would comprehend. “I love your niece.”
“Me too.”
That was a good sign. She was following him. “I want to marry her.” When she didn’t respond, he pressed on. “I don’t know what place you’re in today, or if you’ll remember me or our conversation, but I’m asking for your permission to marry Tabitha.”
Aunt Tweet squinted, then gave him a blank stare. “That’s my sister. You need to ask Papa.”
Groaning his frustration, Marcus counted to three and tried again. “Since I can’t find him, is it okay for me to marry your sister? Do you think I will take care of her?”
“I don’t see why not.” She tilted her head, and he braced for her rambling. “I wanted Rudy to marry me, but that boy didn’t want me.” A sad expression crossed her face, then she chuckled. “But before long he changed his tune when I took center stage as a model. By that time my puppy love was gone…”
Marcus listened patiently. He hoped that Aunt Tweet would live to see another generation of nieces and nephews.
* * *
On the surface, it was a traditional holiday celebration with turkey and dressing, desserts and college football. For Tabitha, it would also be the saddest Thanksgiving she would remember for years to come, despite the inspiring message this morning from Pastor Nelson. The service was less than ninety minutes, and that included Thanksgiving Day testimonies, two selections from the choir, and the sermon.
“1 Thessalonians 5:18 says, ‘In everything give thanks.’ Be thankful. For some of you, it’s easy. For others, it may be a struggle not to complain, but it’s God’s will for us to be thankful despite whatever situations we find ourselves in.”
No matter how hard Tabitha tried to be thankful, it was bittersweet. Her six-month bonding time with her great-aunt was coming to an end. During Aunt Tweet’s stay, Tabitha had learned so much about herself, relationships, and her aunt. Dismissing the melancholy, she put on a brave face when the men strolled into the kitchen.
They pitched in to help set the table with the turkey and dressing and other dishes. Tabitha situated Aunt Tweet at one end of the table. She and Marcus sat on either side of her. Since everyone was coupled off—Rachel and Demetrius, the elder Whittingtons—except Kym, so she took the other end of the table, which seemed appropriate, as the eldest sister.
“Mr. Whittington, would you ask for blessings over our meal?” Tabitha asked Marcus’s father, and they all joined hands.
“Please bless our food for our nourishment and enjoyment, and help us to bless others who might be hungry. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
Their amens mingled in near unison, then they began to serve themselves after Tabitha fixed a plate for her aunt. The conversation was lively and loud, ranging from travels and childhood memories to careers.
“Aunt Tweet, I sure am going to miss you,” Marcus said as he rested his fork on his plate.
“I ain’t going nowhere.” She chuckled and scooped up another serving of dressing as everybody hushed.
Uh-oh. Tabitha glanced at Marcus, who looked clueless about what he’d said wrong, then she patted her aunt’s hand. “You’re going to spend some time with Rachel.”
“I’m not going to go with that girl!” Aunt Tweet said in a defiant tone and shifted in her chair.
All eyes turned to Rachel. The expression on her face was a cross between horror and hurt. Visibly shaken, Tabitha’s baby sister swallowed. Demetrius squeezed her shoulder.
Kym stepped in and defused the situation as best as she could by coaxing Aunt Tweet to talk about the places she had visited and the wonderful souvenirs she’d brought back. It was enough diversion for their aunt to recount her world travels.
Soon, everyone tackled the cleanup and stored leftovers in the refrigerator. Marcus stayed behind after his parents and brother said their goodbyes. Tabitha’s sisters were upstairs, preparing their aunt for bed and packing more of her things. Wrapping his arms around her from behind her, he whispered, “Babe, I’m really sorry again about saying something earlier. I wasn’t thinking.”
Relaxing against his chest, Tabitha shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s reality. I don’t know where Aunt Tweet’s reality is right now. It will be as big a transition for her and Rachel as it was for me.”
She turned in his arms, and he brushed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes to enjoy the moment. “I don’t know what state of mind Aunt Tweet will be in tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll be confused but hopefully not combative.”
Tabitha was glad Marcus didn’t stay much longer. She was eager to spend as much time in her aunt’s presence as possible before her departure. In the beginning, the caregivers’ pact had seemed like an easy commitment…until it was her turn. When her aunt arrived, Tabitha had questioned herself daily about whether she was competent to be a caregiver, especially after her initial run-in with Marcus. Months ago, she’d counted down the weeks until she could hand over Aunt Tweet to Rachel. Now, she wanted to rewind time for a couple of days more.
Once she was upstairs, she shooed her sisters out of Aunt Tweet’s room and looked around. After this weekend, the bedroom would be vacated until her aunt returned in a year. From her research, Tabitha learned that some patients with dementia and Alzheimer’s could live up to ten years with the illness. At least next time, Tabitha would have a better handle on being a caregiver.
She tried to keep her tears at bay as her heart broke. She didn’t want to cry in front of Aunt Tweet. The last time had been when she apologized to her sisters during a Skype chat. Her aunt had tenderly wiped away her tears as she had when Tabitha was a little girl. The gesture had only made Tabitha want to cry even more.
Scooting back Aunt Tweet’s jacquard bedspread, because it was her aunt’s pet peeve for anyone to sit on top of it, Tabitha sat on the edge of the bed and mustered a smile.
“I want you to know I love you, and it’s been a sincere honor to take care of you. I know I had some rough patches when I became frustrated, but it was still a pleasure to have you here to keep me company. On the days you can remember, I hope there are fond memories of our time together.”
Suddenly, Aunt Tweet began to ramble about “mister,” which Tabitha understood to mean Marcus. She knew he was going to miss her from the way he held her hand in recent days. There had been a few touching scenes.
“Mister’s a good man. A good man…a good man makes a good husband and father and grandfather. You want a man who wants to be with you. Sometimes, I wish I had a man to hold my hand…”
Tabitha held her breath. Aunt Tweet remembered Marcus’s gesture? Oh boy, would her aunt have issues being separated from him too? Despite her aunt’s smiles and occasional chuckles, it was clear she did have regrets in life when it came to love.
* * *
The next morning, true to Aunt Tweet’s declaration the day earlier, she refused to get in the car with Rachel. Her sister looked downright overwhelmed.
Tabitha made a snap judgment, surprising Marcus, Rachel, and Aunt Tweet. “I’m going with you.” Rachel and Aunt Tweet looked relieved. The passing of the baton was hard. It was a good thing it would be a short trip and a long weekend. She would fly back Sunday night.
“Baby, I can drive you,” he offered. “Do you have any idea how crowded the airport will be because of the holiday?”
“I do, but I know you’ll be there to pick me up.” She kissed his jaw.
The next morning, the sisters tried for the road trip again, this time with very little resistance from their aunt. Marcus was there to say goodbye as if Tabitha were going on a long journey. He had brought flowers for all thr
ee of them. She gave him one final kiss and two hugs before she hurried to squeeze in the back seat with Aunt Tweet’s belongings.
As Rachel drove away from the house, Tabitha glanced back. Marcus hadn’t moved from her sidewalk. At least she had something to look forward to when she returned.
Chapter 36
Tabitha hadn’t returned to Saint Louis as planned. She’d stayed an extra day in Nashville to make sure her aunt was comfortable and settled. Now, weeks later, Aunt Tweet’s absence was tangible.
What was Tabitha supposed to do now with so much free time? For six months, she had scheduled everything around Aunt Tweet, who was now unleashing her combative spirit on Rachel on bad days and confusion on the best days. More than once, Tabitha’s baby sister had called in tears.
Tabitha didn’t realize her mind had drifted until Marcus cleared his throat.
“Would I spoil the mood if I said I miss her?” he whispered as they both struggled to enjoy the meal they had prepared together.
“Not at all.” She loved this man. “I had zoned out on you, wondering how she’s doing.”
“You still talk to her every day, right?” He wore an expectant look.
“I’ve been trying to wean both of us. It’s every other day. Soon, I’ll check on her twice a week, then it will be our weekly Skype chats.”
Marcus picked at his creamed corn again. “Why do we sound like empty nesters?”
“I guess, in a sense, we are.” Tabitha chuckled. “She’s been a part of my life forever and has a flair for making lasting impressions.” Although she missed Aunt Tweet, her stress level was down, though not gone. She still worried about her aunt and Rachel. Like Tabitha, her sister really didn’t know what she was getting into. And all three of them had experienced different degrees of caregiving.
Reality kicked in for Rachel as soon as Tabitha left for home, and her sister had been frazzled ever since. “One good thing is I’ll have time to breathe, regroup, and be ready for next time.” At least Kym, Tabitha, and now Rachel were in agreement that a trustworthy nurse’s aide was a must. With Aunt Tweet’s mental state deteriorating, she hoped there would be a next time.
“I guess we should’ve kept the dog,” Marcus said, displaying a boyish pout.
“We?” She pointed her fork at him, laughing. “You mean me. I had to walk the dog, feed him, and clean up his poop. The only thing my aunt had to do was pet him. At least Sweet Pepper is with her.”
Marcus nodded. “The dog did keep her from wandering off, so it’s a good thing.”
After they finished their dinner, they cleaned her kitchen and settled in the family room.
It was a chilly December weekend, and both agreed to stay in and let a roaring fire warm them while listening to music. Snuggling under Marcus’s arm, Tabitha closed her eyes, content.
Suddenly, shifting in his seat, Marcus startled her. “Let’s start over.” He angled his body until he faced her. “As if we’ve just met.”
Amused by his excitement, she teased, “You want me to come and stake out your porch? That ain’t happening.”
His slow grin turned into a deep chuckle. “No. I want to woo, chase, court, and whatever you want to call it to win your heart.”
She patted her chest. “You already have it.”
His nostrils flared, and his breathing deepened. “Not like a man really wants to. Let’s plan something tomorrow.”
“It’s supposed to snow,” she reminded him, which was why he had stockpiled wood on her covered porch.
The forecast didn’t seem to deter him. “Like that’s going to make me cancel our special occasion.”
“What are we celebrating?”
“That you made your bonus and…let’s just say I hope the forecasters are 50 percent wrong again.”
* * *
Marcus opened the ring box, scrutinized the diamond, then closed it. Tabitha had no idea he was about to propose. All she suspected was he was rewinding their relationship and dating history. The only wooing he planned to do was to the altar, and tonight was it.
The meteorologists had predicted snow, but none had fallen so far. Snow might shut down cities and businesses, but it wasn’t going to keep him from his mission. As any determined man in love, he had concocted a plan B—loading a shovel, a bag of salt, and a portable heater in his truck, just in case.
If only Aunt Tweet were there to see it. Would she remember him asking for Tabitha’s hand in marriage? He planned on loving her until Jesus came back for both of them. Until then, he would use his parents’ marriage as a model.
Marcus did his scheming while urging Tabitha to redeem his gift certificate he’d given her after Aunt Tweet moved and get the works—hair, skin, and nails. He had gone ring shopping. She wasn’t the only one who had gone shopping for something special to wear.
When he had informed his parents that he was going to ask her to marry him, they had been ecstatic. Demetrius was a downer, though, not sharing the same enthusiasm when Marcus phoned him. “Man, have you really had a chance to get to know her outside of caring for her aunt?”
“What Tabitha and I experienced was real life. If love found its way through all that stress and, at times, drama, then I feel God brought us together and will keep us.”
“You’re a good man.” Demetrius laughed. “Good luck.”
“Whatever. Please don’t mention this to Rachel, because she might say something to Tabitha before I’m ready.”
His brother was quiet. Marcus could only assume whatever was going on between him and Rachel had fizzled as soon as Aunt Tweet became a houseguest. That ended all discussion about the Knicely sisters.
Tabitha’s ringtone interrupted his musing. He grinned and answered. “Hey, babe.”
“Hey. Have you looked out the window?” She didn’t hide the worry in her voice.
“As a matter of fact, I did. Nothing is going on,” he said in triumph, popping open the ring box again.
“Ah, I think you need to look again,” she said as he strolled to look outside his bedroom window and blinked.
“What?” He frowned. When did the sky unleash its fury of snow?
“Yeah. It’s coming down heavy. We can do a rain check—or in this case, a snow check.” She giggled.
That was not an option. “Babe, I’m not canceling our reservations. Be beautiful, be sweet, and be ready.” He chuckled at his own corniness. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He smacked a kiss in her ear for good measure and disconnected. He couldn’t believe the forecasters had nailed it after all. “Time to activate plan B.”
He shaved, showered, then donned his tuxedo. Marcus peeped out the window again, and his jaw dropped. The snowfall was unrelenting. He slipped on his boots, grabbed his keys, and left.
Once outside, he scanned his neighborhood’s winter wonderland. It was beautiful, but not a deterrent. After starting his car, he cleaned off his windows. He had purchased frozen dinners from Maggiano’s. He could pop the entrees into the microwave, or oven, and the pasta would be piping hot and ready to serve along with the other items he had stuffed in a picnic basket. He chuckled—a picnic basket in December was as romantic as he could get under plan B.
Marcus drove the short distance and parked. He stepped out and retrieved the shovel from his trunk. As quietly and fast as he could, he cleared the walkway from the sidewalk to Tabitha’s porch. Done.
Next, he set up the portable propane heater midway on the path to melt the snow as it fell. Check. Finally, he placed portable lanterns in the snow—a winter date idea he’d read on a website. Marcus hiked up the stairs, careful not to slip. He rang the bell, then backtracked to the walkway and waited.
Opening the door, her eyes widened in surprise. The light glowing in the foyer gave the illusion of an angel standing in the doorway. The moment was surreal as Tabitha gasped and covered her mouth. “Marcus?”
“Put on your coat and come dance with me.” He stretched out his hand.
It seemed to take her a few moments to register his request. Once she did, she twirled around and grabbed her coat. Note to self: Get her a mink on our first wedding anniversary.
“What is going on?” she asked as snowflakes sprinkled her lashes and he helped her down, step by step, with one hand. His other hand held an umbrella over her head.
Marcus pulled her closer. When she shivered, he guided her to the propane heater until he could feel its warmth against his legs.
Giving her the umbrella, he knelt and fumbled in his pocket until he pulled out the box. “I believe that even in Aunt Tweet’s state, she played the matchmaker. Nothing could have kept me from falling in love with you—misunderstandings, bad first impressions, or hardships,” he said, staring up into her teary eyes. “You’ve given me your heart, and I’ve given you mine. Now this weather won’t keep me from asking this question: Will you do me the honor of being my wife for life?”
Wiping away a tear, she choked out, “I once told you if you asked me to marry you, I would say yes. Marcus Whittington, there is no other man I would want as my husband, so yes, I would be honored to be your wife.” Taking her shaking hand, Marcus steadied it to slip on the ring.
Leaping up, he balanced himself on the wet walkway before he lifted her off her feet and kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you more. I’m still in awe that somehow love found its way into my life at my lowest point.”
“Don’t question it. Just love me back.”
“I do. I will.” She squeezed his neck, threatening to close his windpipe.
As the snow began to pile up around them, they still had a clear spot near the heater, so he steadied her, reached into his pocket, and tapped his iTunes to play a rendition of “Thank You” by the late Walter Hawkins.
As she continued to hold the umbrella, he snaked his arms around her and began to sway in a slow dance to the melody. Once the song ended, he hugged her tight. “One chapter of our life has ended. We’ll begin the new year with a new chapter as an engaged couple.”
