by Pat Simmons
Tabitha’s ringtone interrupted his concentration as he reviewed their inventory against sales. “Hey, babe.” She was frantic. “Slow down, baby. What’s wrong?” Immediately, his senses went on alert.
Crying, she sniffed and rambled, “Bermuda Place called an ambulance. Aunt Tweet passed out. I’m in Wentzville, but I’m canceling appointments to head to DePaul’s Hospital. I’m scared. I don’t want her to die.” She boo-hooed some more.
“It’s okay. Shh.” Marcus stood and grabbed his keys. “I’m on my way there.”
“What’s going on?” Demetrius frowned in concern.
“Aunt Tweet...they called an ambulance. Tabitha is in St. Charles County, so it’s going to take her a few minutes to get back up north to the hospital. Since I’m the closest, I’ll head over there.”
Demetrius held up both hands. “Don’t get me wrong, bro. That’s her emergency, not ours. We’re in a crucial time in our business. We both need to be at the top of our game for the audit. Can’t you go by the hospital later after your meeting with Energizer?”
“I can, but I’m not. If this was us with Mom or Dad, she would be here for me.” Marcus’ mouth twitched as he balled his fist. “Try loving someone and not making them your priority.”
That’s why I died on the cross, because I loved the world, God whispered. I’m with Aunt Tweet.
Marcus exhaled, thanking Jesus for comforting him. He prayed the same for Tabitha. But he was still going. His hand was on the doorknob when he looked back at the bewildered disappointment etched on his brother’s face. “I know you think I’ve lost my mind over them, but I’ve surrendered my heart to Tabitha. I don’t want it back, so I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on.”
“Yeah. Do that,” Demetrius murmured, twisting his lips as Marcus hurried out of the office, almost shoving Chess into the wall. “Sorry,” he mumbled to his employee.
The hospital was close. He heard the sirens behind him on I-270 as he exited on St. Charles Rock Road. He was about to turn into to the parking lot when the flashing lights forced him to pull to the side.
Minutes later when he arrived at the hospital, Marcus watched as the paramedics lifted a gurney out of an ambulance. Straining his neck, he trotted to the vehicle to see if the patient had silvery gray hair like Aunt’s Tweet. She did, but an oxygen mask covered her nose and mouth, making a positive I.D. impossible.
He raced inside to the counter, then it dawned on him that he wasn’t the next of kin. Now what? Pacing the area outside the double doors, he called Tabitha. She answered just as frantic as earlier.
“Babe, it’s okay. I beat the ambulance here.” Technically, he did. “I think maybe I saw her being wheeled in. How far out are you?”
“Just crossing over the Blanchette Bridge.”
She had to be speeding fifteen-plus miles over the limit to be one exit away so soon. “Slow down.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I feel better that you’re there. I promise I’ll return to sanity and obey the speed limit. Uh-oh. I’ve got a cop behind me.”
Great. Marcus slapped his forehead. The blood drained from his face. “Do you need me to come?”
“No. Pray. Stay with Aunt Tweet.” She disconnected when he would have preferred to stay on the line.
He couldn’t even see her aunt anyway, so he might as well go to Tabitha’s aid. Police relations throughout St. Louis were still shaky after the Mike Brown shooting in Ferguson years ago. Depending on the officer’s mood and mindset, she might not necessarily be in safe hands. “Lord, in the name of Jesus, I’m back at Your altar again, asking for Your mercy and grace. Help her to say the right words and to be treated fairly. I can’t be with her, but I know You are. Jesus, I ask for Your peace of mind.”
Peace. Be still.
Immediately, Marcus’ heart regulated. He looked up to the sky and whispered his thanks. He took a series of deep breaths, then walked through the double doors. He sat and impatiently waited for Tabitha’s arrival. He watched paramedics exit the ambulance. No one from the facility escorted Aunt Tweet? She was alone? Was she still alive? He exhaled. God gave him peace, and just as fast he let the devil snatch it away.
He began to pace the floor until the path led himself outside. He said another prayer for his girlfriend’s safety and her aunt’s recovery, then tried to switch his mind into work mode to make some business calls.
“Charles, Marcus Whittington here, I know we’re supposed to review our contract in about an hour—”
“I’m glad you called. I have a bit of an emergency. I’m heading out to get my son. His school called to say he’s sick. Can we reschedule early next week? Sorry to do this to you. I know you’re a busy man.”
Thank You, Jesus, for the favor. Energizer was one of Whittington’s biggest clients, employing the majority of their workers at three locations. Charles had recently referred Whittington Janitorial Services to a medium-sized company for business. “You are too. I hope your son feels better, and I’ll be in touch.”
Squinting toward the entrance, he saw Tabitha’s sedan speeding his way. If she’d gotten a ticket, it hadn’t slowed her down. He waved her toward him instead of to the adjacent garage.
“Please tell me you didn’t get a ticket.” He opened the driver’s door and hugged her as soon as she stepped out and collapsed against him. “I’ll park the car. You go in and see about Aunt Tweet.”
“Okay,” she mumbled as if in a daze. “Praise God, the officer didn’t give me a ticket, but a warning. Didn’t matter. I would have paid it. When he saw my tears, he let me go and told me to slow down.”
He nudged her toward the door, then slid behind the wheel of her car. Once Marcus adjusted the seat, he drove away in search of a parking space. When he returned to the waiting room, Tabitha wasn’t in sight, so he texted her. Is everything okay?
No response, so he took a seat. About ten minutes later, Tabitha called. “She’s alert.” She sighed. “Praise God. They’re running tests to rule out a stroke, silent heart attack, blood sugar...” She paused. “Thank you, Marcus, for coming and standing in the prayer gap for me, but you can go. I know you’re busy and—”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Leaning back to rest his head against the wall, Marcus closed his eyes. Aunt Tweet was alive.
Chapter 34
T
abitha couldn’t remember the last time she was so scared. While Aunt Tweet rested, she released silent tears. Her great aunt could have died while she was locked up for driving almost ninety miles per hour in a company car. Yet, God was merciful.
She had to compose herself before calling her sisters. When she did, they became as frantic as she had been.
“I’ll be there tomorrow morning,” Kym said in a subdued tone.
“I’ll hit the road in the morning and be there in the afternoon,” Rachel said. “I want to start bringing some of Aunt Tweet’s things back with me.”
“Is your mind good enough to drive?” Tabitha asked.
“Yeah. Nashville is four and a half hours from St. Louis. Less than four if I speed.”
“Please don’t,” she said, recanting what happened to her earlier.
When a doctor opened the curtain before stepping into the examination room, a female resident trailed him. She paused and tapped speaker on her phone, so her sisters could hear.
“Miss Knicely, you indicated your aunt was a borderline diabetic.” Tabitha nodded. “That is no longer the case. Her blood sugar level dropped dangerously low. We’re going to give her insulin, but she will need to follow up with her primary care doctor right away.”
She ignored Kym’s squeak as she questioned the doctor. “Won’t most of those medicines interact with her Alzheimer’s medicine?”
The doctor shook his head. “Research shows that many patients who suffer with Alzheimer’s have some form of diabetes or disturbed glucose metabolism.”
“Our aunt isn’t a fan of needles.” Rachel voiced what Tabitha already knew. It
was going to be a battle giving Aunt Tweet her injections at home.
After thanking the doctor, she let her sisters speak to Aunt Tweet, then Tabitha helped her get dressed. “Sorry to be so much trouble,” Aunt Tweet said solemnly.
“No trouble.” Tabitha’s eyes blurred as her lips trembled. “You scared me.” She wrapped her arms around her aunt’s shoulders and held her tight. “I love you. I’m glad you’re okay. Let’s go home.”
Out in the waiting room, Marcus was slumped in a chair, legs stretched, arms folded, and head tilted asleep. Walking closer, she admired his features. The lines that wrinkled his forehead were an indication he wasn’t at peace. She loved this man so much.
Leaning over him, she rubbed his jaw. “Hey,” she said softly, hating to wake him. She watched as his long lashes fluttered and he strained to focus. Immediately, he straightened up and gave her his attention.
“Is everything...” His voice trailed when he saw Aunt Tweet. Leaping to his feet, he wrapped his arms around her, then dragged Tabitha into a group hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Me too, mister.”
Since the health scare, Tabitha had become clingy, not wanting to let her aunt out of her sight. It was good Rachel had pushed back getting Aunt Tweet to the weekend after Thanksgiving. The extra weeks would give Tabitha more time to spend with her.
Everything worked out for the best. Since Marcus was busy with contract negotiations, they agreed to put a date night during the work week on hold. The only thing that didn’t slow down was the demands of her job.
She had to rely on Miss Betty more as she sequestered herself in her bedroom to work on a project. In addition to reviewing doctors’ profiles before setting up visits, she had to seek out a specialist outside of her territory who had success prescribing Porital to his patients. Dr. Rush from Cincinnati was perfect. Taking on the role as an administrative assistant, she exchanged numerous emails with him until he agreed to give a presentation at a fee. They set a date, she secured a location, and made his travel accommodations.
Weeks later, when the date arrived for the event, Marcus apologized profusely that he couldn’t attend with her because of a business engagement he had to attend with Demetrius.
“Next time, baby. I promise.”
“You don’t have to promise,” she assured one morning while she was on the road for a doctor’s visit. “Consider us even. I had to turn down accompanying you to a fundraiser.”
“We’re not going to do tit for tat, girlfriend. Our schedules are crazy for now, but we always have our weekends.”
“Yes.” She beamed, then minutes later, ended the call.
That evening, Tabitha had planned to take Aunt Tweet with her to the presentation. She changed her mind when she noticed her aunt seemed tired, so she called the agency for Miss Betty.
“I know it’s late notice, but I hope she can come.”
“No worries,” the man said and ended the call to get in contact with Miss Betty.
Fifteen minutes before she planned to leave, her doorbell rang. Fastening her earrings, she walked to the door, opened it and frowned.
“Hi, Miss Tabitha,” Latrice Allen greeted her in a professional manner.
Although she was glad to see a familiar face, she didn’t know if the young woman could handle her aunt, and she voiced her concerns.
“I’m trained to expect the unexpected with clients. Every client is special. Knowing how much Mr. Whittington thinks of Miss Brownlee, your aunt is more special to me.”
Touched by Latrice’s sincerity, Tabitha hesitantly agreed, but would check her home security video periodically throughout the evening.
Gathering her things, she kissed and hugged Aunt Tweet goodbye. Once in her car, she touched the app on her phone to see Latrice pulling a big jigsaw puzzle out a bag and setting it up on the kitchen table. Aunt Tweet was watching the girl’s every move.
“Maybe she will work out.” Wait until she told Marcus, but she had to put that on hold. He was at a function, and she had to concentrate on hers.
Trust in Me, and not in man, God whispered to her soul.
Nodding, she drove away, putting her aunt in God’s hands.
Dr. Rush was an animated, engaging speaker, who according to an informal survey from some of the doctors had won them over. Even Ava Elise attended and complimented her on putting together a well-thought-out event. The accolades made her miss Marcus more. She wanted him to witness the fruit of her labor. Immersed in ensuring her guests’ comfort, Tabitha only had time to check on Aunt Tweet once on her video app, then followed up with a phone call. God had given her peace.
When she returned home hours later, Latrice had washed clothes and was folding them up on the kitchen table with Sweet Pepper resting contently at her feet.
She stood. “How did the event go?”
“It was a success,” she said in relief and grinned. “How did everything go with my aunt?”
“She’s a very smart woman. We talked about a clothing business she owned and that she had fashions from Paris...”
Tabitha didn’t try to dispel the woman’s hero worship of her aunt. She had come to the conclusion that ninety years was a lifetime of opportunities. When her aunt told those stories, whether it really happened or not, Tabitha accepted them and stopped asking questions.
“When I gave her a bath...”
“My aunt let you bathe her?” Tabitha blinked. A modest woman, Aunt Tweet fussed about Tabitha helping her put on her underwear in the beginning. She protested when Kym and Rachel bathed her, too, but Aunt Tweet would be horrified to know a “stranger” had bathed her.
“Yes, ma’am, but only if I put a lot of bubbles in the water.” They both laughed as Latrice gathered her bags and Tabitha walked her to the door. Everything was back to normal.
Chapter 35
W
hen Marcus thought the coast was clear, he joined Aunt Tweet on the sofa and took one of her soft hands in his. From anyone’s advantage point, it appeared to be the norm for him to entertain her. His parents were in attendance as well as Demetrius. Under the watchful eye of his mother, the Knicely sisters attempted to recreate the Whittington family homemade pecan pie to add to their Thanksgiving feast.
They ladies seemed to be enjoying each other; his brother and father were already talking smack as the first college football game had gotten underway. Great, everybody was distracted.
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 and silently prayed he could reach a place deep within her soul. “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 believe God will place this moment into your memory to hold onto forever.”
She squinted, then gave him a blank stare.
“I’m asking for your permission to marry Tabitha.”
She frowned. “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...”
As Marcus patiently listened, he silently prayed, Lord, grant her a long life, so they she could 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 wou
ld remember for years to come, despite the morning message from Pastor Nelson.
“First Thessalonians 5:18 says, ‘In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.’ Be thankful. For some of you, it’s easy. For others, it may be a struggle, so the Lord Jesus gives us an instruction guide in Philippians 4:6-7:’ Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.’”
No matter how hard she tried to be thankful, it was bittersweet, because her great aunt was leaving her. Tabitha had learned so much during Aunt Tweet’s stay about herself, relationship and her aunt. Dismissing the melancholy, she put on a brave face when the men strolled into the kitchen, feigning hunger.
They pitched in to help the women set the table with turkey and dressing and side dishes. Tabitha situated Aunt Tweet at one end of the table. She and Marcus sat of each side of her. Since everyone was coupled off—Rachel and Demetrius; the elder Whittingtons—Kym took the other end of the table.
“Mr. Whittington, would you ask for blessings over our meal?” Tabitha asked Marcus’ father.
Once their hands were joined, he prayed, “Lord, in the name of Jesus, we thank You for this gathering, fellowship, and food. Please give our host a special blessing today and all these ladies. Please bless our food for our nourishment and enjoyment, and help us to bless others who might be hungry. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Their “Amens” mingled in unison, then they began to serve themselves after Tabitha fixed a plate for her aunt. The conversation was lively and loud, ranging from travels, childhood memories, and even shop talk about careers.
“Aunt Tweet, I’m 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 mouthed an apology, then she patted her aunt’s hand. “You’re going to spend some time with Rachel.”
