My Rock by Pat Simmons

Author:Pat Simmons
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: African-American romance, caregiver, dementia, alzheimer
Publisher: Generations Quest Press
Published: 2018-03-29T16:00:00+00:00

THE WALK DID TABITHA and Sweet Pepper good. The short visit to Marcus was even better. She returned to her house with her heart and mind playing a tug-of-war over him. She didn’t have time to date now, not that she didn’t want to, but Aunt Tweet was a handful. He had seen that firsthand.

She opened the door as Rachel was gliding down the stairs with the pure artistry of Project Runway, dressed in a romper with an airy organza see-through skirt attached at the waist. Her baby sister had a walk that turned heads—men with lusty eyes and ladies with envy. Women disliked the fact Rachel Knicely couldn’t be duplicated.

“I’m hungry and ready to go,” Rachel said.

Kym walked out of the kitchen and exchanged smirks with Tabitha. “Are we talking about barbecue or Marcus’ brother?”

Hmph. “Both. Let Demetrius decide if he’s ready for me,” Rachel boasted.

“Aren’t you and Kym leaving tonight?”

Rachel grinned and lifted an eyebrow. “Even better to leave a lasting memory.”

Shaking her head, Tabitha continued into the kitchen and put Sweet Pepper in his kennel. Sometimes she wished she had Rachel’s confidence when it came to men. Her sister knew how to play the game. For Tabitha, she didn’t want to put the energy into being the center of attention, not even some of the time.

Before they got into the car, Kym pulled Tabitha to the side. “This morning I watched Aunt Tweet read her Bible.”

“Okay.” She frowned.

“It was upside down, and she was studying it. Do you think, maybe, she can’t remember how to read?”

“It’s possible.” Tabitha nodded. “A couple of times while watching game shows, she’d ask me what they said. At first, I thought she was becoming hard of hearing, then I figured out she wasn’t understanding phrases. As her brain cells die, she’ll become more confused.”

“This is hard to watch.” Kym’s eyes teared as she twisted her lips. “Maybe I’ll look into the preventive trials—for all the other Aunt Tweets out there.”

“Sounds good.” Wrapping their arms around each other’s shoulders, they walked in sync as they had as little girls to join Aunt Tweet and Rachel in the car. After putting Marcus’ company’s address in her GPS, she was surprised they reached their destination in twelve minutes. “Wow, he does live close.”

One would think it was business as usual from the packed cars in front of Whittington Janitorial Services where the adjacent buildings lot were bare.

Tabitha felt a sense of pride for the Whittingtons’ accomplishments as single, successful Black entrepreneurs. The white stone building, bearing their name in bold maroon lettering, was massive and stretched for blocks. The space seemed overkill for the seventy workers Marcus mentioned he employed.

Getting out, they followed the smell of barbecue and trail of voices. Not surprisingly, the door was locked. Tabitha rang a doorbell. Minutes later, a young woman appeared and cracked the door open while balancing a plate in one hand. “Hi. May I help you?”

“They’re guests of mine, Casey,” Marcus said, walking up behind the woman.

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