My Rock Read online

  My Rock

  Caregivers series

  By

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  My Rock (Caregivers, #1)

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Epilogue

  Book Club Discussion

  Author’s Note:

  About the Author

  Award-winning and National Bestselling Christian Author

  PAT SIMMONS

  Copyright @2018 Generations Quest Press, Pat Simmons

  This novel is a work of fiction. References to real events, organizations, or places are used in a fictional context. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead are entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical—including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system— without permission in writing from the publisher. Please direct your inquiries to: [email protected].

  Beta readers: Stacey Jefferson, Shannan Harper, Darlene Simmons

  Editor: Chandra Sparks Splond; Proofreader: Judicious Revisions LLC

  Interior: Fiverr.com/kimolisa

  Cover: Fiverr.com/ultrakhan22

  Author’s photo: Naum Furman

  ISBN-13: 978-1983552953

  ISBN-10: 198355295X

  A heartfelt thanks to the following who helped make My Rock an enjoyable read:

  My cousin, Darlene Simmons, who has been MY Rock throughout my writing journey.

  Minister Gladys Morris who has followed my ministry for more than 10 years.

  Miriam “Cookie” Simmons and Beverly Jacquet, my tag team.

  Rose Ruffin, a new friend who seems like an old friend. Thanks for your support.

  MOST OF ALL, I PRAISE the Lord for guiding me through this story! I love you, Jesus!

  WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT PAT SIMMONS

  "I read Pat Simmons' book My Rock....it was such a good read! I finished the first half in one sitting.... couldn't put it down. She did a wonderful job balancing romantic story line with real life issues." – Minister Gladys Morris

  "The Rock is my introduction to Pat Simmons and her many Christian romance (series) novels. Needless to say I'M HOOKED and now have to play catchup. Love love love her characters and can’t wait to read more!!! #fanforlife Miriam (Cookie) Simmons

  “Reading My Rock, one minute I was crying, and then I found myself laughing and doing a whole lot of smiling.” –Rose Ruffin

  “I believe that this is Pat’s greatest novel, but I say that about all of her books. LOL. Love Led by the Spirit is captivating. Pat had me hooked from page two until the end of the book. Every time I tried to put it down, the next chapter would pull me in.”—Ceisha Lee on Love led by the Spirit”

  “So great I could not stop reading until I finished it. Bought it and started reading at 6 p.m., finished by 8 p.m., writing the review at 8:30 p.m. Pat Simmons is one of my favorite authors, and this book clearly shows why. It reminds you that no matter what you are dealing with, God is the solution to every problem, issue, and circumstance.”—Joyce on Every Woman Needs a Praying Man

  “Couple By Christmas is a beautiful story of love, faith, and reconciliation. I always love reading books by this great author Pat Simmons because she always lets God guide the pen to create wonderful stories with well-developed characters to minister to the readers through the story.”—Milton Kelley

  “I am just beyond happy. Pat Simmons is truly amazing. I have read all her books, and I have been waiting for this one. Sandra finally got her Boaz. What sets Pat Simmons apart from others authors is her books always have a message for your spirit, healings for your mind, scriptures, history, plan of salvation, love. I not only enjoyed a beautiful novel, but I learn so much about our history.”—Amazon reader on The Confession

  “In Defense of Love is a beautiful love story full of trust and forgiveness. Garrett and Shari has beautiful chemistry. Shari suffered from low self-esteem because of her complexion and almost missed out on her blessing. I liked that Garrett didn't give up on Shari and trusted God to direct his relationship with Shari. Mrs. Pat Simmons does an awesome job telling Garrett and Shari's story while allowing God to use her to witness to her readers without taking away from the storyline. What a beautiful romance full of love and faith!!!” —Miss Kay

  Chapter 1

  M

  arcus Whittington wasn’t expecting to see a woman on his surveillance recorder, trespassing on his domain. From time to time, maybe a stray dog, never before a woman wearing an oversized red hat that concealed her features as she strolled up to his house. According to his security video, this wasn’t her first visit.

  This mystery person had commandeered his porch between 6:30 A.M. and 7:15 A.M., as if she owned the deed to his property. She sat lifeless as a statue for about ten minutes the first time, then seven minutes this morning before hurrying off as if a dog was chasing her. He frowned as he rewound and watched the video again.

  What was going on? Marcus had lived on Overdrive Court in Pasadena Hills, Missouri, for four years. The quiet suburban neighborhood was a “hidden in plain sight” treasure with an unmanned majestic sixty-five-foot Garrison Gothic gateway tower at the Natural Bridge Road entrance. It served as an imaginary barrier to guard its residents from the questionable blighted North St. Louis city neighborhoods that were in transition. Clearly, security had been breached.

  He didn’t have time for this. It was Monday morning, and he had to get to the office. Scratching his jaw, which demanded a razor, he multi-tasked and called the police at the same time.

  “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?” a male dispatcher answered.

  “I would like to report a strange woman making uninvited visits to my property.”

  “Excuse me, sir?” The man paused. “Has your home been vandalized?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” His morning paper deliveries were untouched. “This chick just sits on my porch.”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. Finally, a response came. “I can send an officer to file a report. But without a name or address of this lady, it would be almost impossible to file charges...”

  Flustered, Marcus changed his mind. “Let’s just take care of this over the phone. I need to get to my office.” After giving the report, he added, “Please add my cul-de-sac to your round of patrols. I’d appreciate it.”

  Whittington Janitorial Services, the company Marcus had started with his older brother, Demetrius, was twelve minutes from his house—tops. Unlike his sibling, he wasn’t a fan of city living, so before purchasing his Cape Cod–inspired story and a half home, he had done his research.

  With University of Missouri at St. Louis’ sprawling campus nearby, Pasadena Hills was considered one of the untouched neighborhoods of the county and touted as North County’s b
est-kept secret—that was until this woman showed up.

  Not easily intimidated at six-foot-three and two hundred and forty pounds of all muscle, Marcus could back up whatever came out of his mouth. Yet, to know some petite woman violated his property unsettled him. Hmph, he grunted.

  “One thing for sure, lady, I’ll be watching you,” he muttered, making a mental note to check his video surveillance more often. He hoped there wouldn’t be a next time, because the woman definitely didn’t want a confrontation with him.

  TABITHA KNICELY HIT the alarm clock ten minutes before it blared. She groaned as she forced her lashes to flutter open as her bedroom came into focus. She no longer lived alone. Agreeing to a verbal caregivers’ pact with her two sisters, it was her turn to host her beloved eighty-nine-year-old great-aunt as a guest in her home for six months. Recently diagnosed with the early stages of dementia associated with Alzheimer’s, Priscilla Brownlee couldn’t stay in her house by herself anymore.

  There was no cure for Alzheimer’s. She had to accept that after researching the disease, not believing Aunt Tweet’s doctor, at first, when he delivered the news of her diagnosis.

  As a pharmaceutical sales rep, Tabitha could recite the medical terms, facts, definitions, and clinical studies’ results in her sleep. She entered college as a biology major and graduated with a bachelor’s in business. The drug sales industry gave her the benefit of both worlds. Plus, she thrived in studying the physiological, anatomical, pharmacological, and scientific properties of medicine to effectively communicate the benefits of the company’s products.

  Taking her duty as a caregiver seriously, Tabitha had resigned from her job of six years as a senior pharmaceutical sales rep to ease the stress of a demanding position. Not wanting to leave the field completely, she took a pay cut to work in a smaller territory with a drug competitor who offered little to no overnight travel. Of course, the pay scale wasn’t as good, but the sacrifice was worth it. Plus, her aunt’s trust designated money for her care in the event she became incapacitated.

  Since this was the first day on her new job, Tabitha pulled back the covers and rolled out of bed. After padding across her plush Oriental rug to her gleaming hardwood floor, she cracked open her bedroom door, listening for any movement coming from Aunt Tweet’s room. Her aunt’s door was open, and her bed was made with her aunt’s favorite tapestry bedspread.

  Good. Aunt Tweet rose at six-thirty like clockwork every morning without an alarm. Her routine was predictable with shower, dress, and breakfast. At least that was what it had been the past two weeks before she started her new job.

  Today would start a new routine with Aunt Tweet at an adult daycare and Tabitha’s first day at Ceyle-Norman. While she gathered her things to shower, her mind replayed the events of last year.

  Tabitha had been at a medical conference in Birmingham, Alabama, when she got a call from her older sister. She never would forget that day as she reflected on Kym’s ramblings.

  “Aunt Tweet is in the custody of the Philly police department.”

  “What?” Scared didn’t begin to describe the dread that came over Tabitha as her jaw dropped and her heart stopped before she felt faint. “What happened? Is she all right?” She blinked away a tear.

  “She’s fine,” Kym assured her, “but someone called the police when she was sitting behind the wheel at a red light. She got lost, unsure how to get home.”

  Tabitha exhaled. Thank God she was alive, but still the news was disturbing. “What do you mean lost? She knows every nook and cranny of Philly, so how was she lost in her own city?”

  Their youngest sister, Rachel, who was also on the line, finally chimed in. “Yeah, explain that.”

  “Well, apparently, she left home to get groceries and wound up in Cherry Hill.”

  The two sisters had gasped. “Jersey?” Rachel asked.

  “That’s ten miles away,” Tabitha added, knowing the area well.

  “Yeah, I’m glad it wasn’t farther. Anyway, they took her to the hospital for a physical and mental evaluation. Her blood pressure and sugar levels were normal, but...” Kym became quiet before she stuttered, “They suspect her confusion could be connected with Alzheimer’s.”

  “No!” Tabitha couldn’t stop the scream that escaped her throat.

  Their aunt had been too important in their lives for them not to come to her rescue, not out of a sense of duty, but because of their enduring love. Tabitha had left the conference early and booked a nonstop flight to Philly. Rachel coordinated her flight from her condo in Nashville. Kym was already on the road from her home in Baltimore.

  When the bathroom filled with steam, Tabitha realized she had lost track of time in the shower. She turned off the water and hurried out, but her thoughts returned to the circumstances that led her to be a caregiver.

  Aunt Tweet’s eyes had danced with merriment when she saw her great nieces. She gave the Knicely sisters hugs as if they were gathering for a family reunion, and downplayed the crisis.

  “Oh, it was a combination of my medicine and this extreme heat that made me a little disoriented. The next time—”

  Their aunt seemed physically okay at the moment, but when would that change? What about tomorrow, next week, or next year, or in the next hour? In her defense, she had always lived independently.

  “There won’t be a next time.” She had cut her off, then apologized for raising her voice.

  Kym had agreed. “Tabitha’s right, this house has always been too big for one person.”

  “If you want to stay here, how about a live-in companion?” Rachel suggested.

  “Oh no!” Raising her hand in the air, Aunt Tweet turned up her nose as if she had a whiff of ammonia. “Even the Bible says don’t entertain strangers.”

  “I don’t think we learned that in Sunday school,” Kym said with a frown.

  “I tweaked it.” Their aunt beamed.

  Refocusing on the issue at hand, Tabitha suggested moving into a retirement community. “Philly has some upscale properties.”

  “I’m too young to live around those old folks. They’re not bringing me down with constant complaints of what’s hurting them. Sometimes, when I hurt, I keep it moving, don’t stop.” Their aunt hmphed. Independent to a fault, she believed in calling the shots, but not this time.

  They brainstormed for hours after Aunt Tweet retired to bed.

  “First things first, we need to see her attorney. I know she updates her will every couple of years, maybe she has a living trust or something to guide us.” Kym shrugged. “If not, she has to come and live with us.”

  “Which one of us?” Rachel asked, twirling strands of her curly hair. “We all live in different cities, remember?”

  True. Rachel was an engineer at a major firm in Nashville. Kym had a tenured position at Morgan State University in Baltimore, and at the time, Tabitha was a senior pharmaceutical rep for Pfizer.

  Following their parents’ deaths not long ago, the sisters had put their St. Louis childhood home on the market. Before the first contract was signed, Tabitha decided she didn’t want to part with the memories and bought out her sisters’ portions and took ownership. Tabitha looked to their big sister for the answer as she began to contemplate what she needed to do.

  Kym nodded. “I know. What about taking rotating shifts? Let’s say we each have her live with us for six months at a time. I’ll go first.” Kym raised her hand.

  As the second oldest, it only seemed right Tabitha would go next. Rachel would be last.

  None of them had been caregivers before. Even when their father, Thomas, had a mild stroke five years earlier, their mother, Rita Knicely, had taken care of him with little complaint. When their mother was killed a couple of years ago in a car crash, Aunt Tweet was there to console them.

  The next day they were crazy busy, meeting with the attorney, real estate agents, and other tasks to begin the process of becoming caregivers.

  After Dr. William Murray evaluated Aunt Tweet, he ver
ified the sisters’ fears. “There are early, moderate, and severe or advanced stages of dementia as a result of Alzheimer’s,” he said, reciting some of the symptoms: poor judgment, mood swings, personality changes, loss of interest in hobbies, difficulty communicating, long and short-term memory loss...”

  “This doesn’t sound good,” Kym had said sadly.

  “It’s not. Alzheimer’s is a cruel disease,” he advised.

  “Wait, I thought you said she had dementia,” Rachel asked.

  “Alzheimer is a disease and the leading cause of some of the dementia symptoms I outlined. Other diseases can cause the same symptoms like Huntington’s, Lewy body dementia, a stroke, or brain injury. Remember, the symptoms are caused by something.”

  The information had overloaded her sisters while Tabitha had soaked in every nugget she could remember, then she did her own personal research. The bottom line, in laymen’s terms, was Alzheimer’s was slowly attacking Aunt Tweet’s brain cells.

  Since her aunt’s stay, she had noticed subtle changes. One moment, her aunt was absentminded, repeating tasks, and was like a bottomless pit when it came to craving snacks, especially sweets, as if they hadn’t finished a meal not long ago. Then in a blink of an eye, Aunt Tweet would turn into a game show junkie. She would beat the contestants before they could answer the host’s questions as if she was a Google search engine.

  Amused, Tabitha chuckled as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, admiring her long, thick lashes like Aunt Tweet’s. Her aunt was stunning back in the day. It seemed odd that she hadn’t married until she was in her early forties. She blinked, wondering if the same fate would befall on her, since she was still single at thirty-two.

  Switching back to Aunt Tweet, Tabitha recalled lunch the other day, and out of nowhere, her aunt started chatting away. “I let love pass me by, marrying that man. Butch Freeman was a mean man.” She scowled. “But he underestimated me when he felt he had the right to tame his wife.”

  The story Aunt Tweet told the family throughout the years was she gave Butch back his last name. Plus, five stitches over one eye while she walked away childless with a bruised heart. Her word of caution to her great-nieces had been to stay away from uncaring men who were full of themselves. “I don’t care how good-looking they are.”