Ameer (The Brothers Ali Book 5) Read online

  “Are you sure?” Basel queried.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” Ameer answered, settling back in his seat.

  “Well, with Tareef getting engaged and the rest of us recently married, I wanted to check in with you, see if you feel any kind of undue pressure to settle down,” Basel explained.

  Ameer didn’t hesitate to respond. “No, bro. I don’t feel any kind of pressure. Should I?”

  “No, not necessarily,” Basel confirmed. “But if you did, I would understand. You know mom and dad want us all happily married so they can increase the probability of having plenty of grandbabies running around,” he smiled.

  “Well, they will have to rely on the rest of you guys to fulfill that dream for them,” Ameer chuckled.

  “Is there anybody on the horizon? A girl you’re seeing?” Basel continued.

  “Uh, no,” Ameer scoffed. “Since when is my dating life so high on your priority list?”

  “Since our mother reminded me of how important expanding our family is to her and dad,” Basel added.

  “No pressure, right?” Ameer trilled.

  “All the pressure, bro,” Basel laughed. “I just want to share some of it with you, spread it around a little bit.”

  “Well, make sure you spread it with O’Shea, Khalid, and Tareef,” Ameer replied.

  “Trust, brother. I already did.”

  “So, school was good?” Siobhan asked as she sat on Messiah’s bed and helped him put on his pajama shirt.

  “Yeah, it was okay,” Messiah replied. “You know I can do this myself, mom.”

  “Yes, Messiah,” she lovingly corrected. “We don’t say yeah.”

  “I remember.” He accepted her correction. “Yes, it was okay.”

  “Much better,” Siobhan affirmed. “And, I know you are perfectly capable of putting on your pajamas, but I wanted to help,” she smiled, pulling down the tail of his cotton shirt. “I know you’re not a little king anymore,” Siobhan sighed, smoothing out his shirt even though it was already smooth. “You’re growing up so fast, too fast.”

  When she finished, Messiah padded to his bed and climbed in under the covers. Siobhan sat down next to him and pulled the covers up, tucking him in.

  “Why was today just okay?”

  Messiah fell quiet and avoided making eye contact with her. Siobhan knew her son well. She knew him well enough to know that something wasn’t okay.

  “Talk to me, Messiah,” she said reassuringly. “You know you can tell me anything.”

  The heavy sigh that passed through her son’s lips caused an ache in Siobhan’s heart. It took Messiah a moment to decide to say more. When he did, she listened intently.

  Messiah clutched his hands in front of him before he spoke.

  “Since it was the first day of school, the teacher had us do a ‘get to know you’ activity.”

  Siobhan loved to hear Messiah speak. He was like a little old man in a young man’s body, wise beyond his years. Even at six, Messiah had an extensive vocabulary. That’s because Siobhan never baby talked him. She never goo-goo’ed or gaga’ed. She always spoke to him like he understood what she was saying, even when he was too young to do so. Resultantly, Messiah started speaking in sentences while most children still babbled.

  “Okay, that sounds reasonable,” Siobhan replied. “So, what happened?”

  “So, she asked us to talk about our family.”

  Siobhan couldn’t unhear the change in Messiah’s tone.

  “I was okay with it, you know, talking about my family until the other kids started asking questions.”

  “What kind of questions, son?” Siobhan asked.

  “Why it was just two of us? Where’s my dad? Did I have one? Stuff like that,” Messiah replied.

  Siobhan’s heart broke for Messiah all over again. Although they had plenty of good times, there was always a shadow of sadness lurking, looking for an opportunity to surface with all of its dark features that could be all-consuming if you let it.

  “And what did you say, babe?” She asked. But even as the words spilled from her lips, Siobhan almost regretted asking. She didn’t want Messiah to have to relive any painful moments. He’d already had enough. Yet, if Siobhan was honest with herself, the pain her son felt, she felt as well. And it was hard to relive her pain repeatedly.

  “I didn’t answer at first,” he replied, still wringing and clutching his hands in front of him.

  Gently, Siobhan placed her hand on top of his, hoping it would comfort him and help Messiah settle.

  “And when you did,” she asked.

  “I wanted to tell them it was none of their business, cause it’s not,” Messiah huffed in his handsomely defiant way. “But I didn’t because the teacher would have said I was rude or something and made you come back to the school because she probably would have sent me to the office. That wouldn’t be good for the first day of school, so I just said it was you and me.”

  “So, you answered the question without really answering the question,” Siobhan mused, trying to keep from smiling. Messiah was quick-witted and had a perfectly dry sense of humor, which to some adults seemed like disrespect though it wasn’t.

  “Yeah, I guess I did,” Messiah reflected. When she saw a bit of a smirk appear on his lips, she allowed herself to smile, too. Her baby protected himself and his feelings, without being mean to anyone else. What more could she ask for?

  “Yes, you did, Messiah,” Siobhan affirmed, reaching over and wrapping her arms around him. “Yes, you did.” He didn’t hesitate to lift his arms and hug his mom in return. As they separated, Siobhan asked another question.

  “Are you too big now for me to read you a bedtime story?”

  “Not if it’s from a chapter book,” Messiah countered.

  “Or maybe now that you’re in first grade, you’ll read to me?”

  “Not tonight, mom,” Messiah smiled, settling under the covers and pulling them up high under his chin. Siobhan reached over to the shelf under Messiah’s bedside table and picked what she knew was his favorite chapter book.

  “Can you start from the beginning?” He asked.

  “Not where we left off last time?” Siobhan questioned, smiling as he yawned, covering his mouth.

  “The beginning, please.”

  And that’s what Siobhan did, opening the book and turning to page one. She read to Messiah until she was sure he was asleep. Moving quietly, Siobhan eased herself up from the bed, closing the book and replacing it on the shelf. Turning on her heels, she looked at her son, watching him, confirming that his chest rose and fell and rose again. That was something else she’d done since he was just a baby – made sure he was breathing. Siobhan was a nervous first-time mom, which was to be expected, particularly since she was raising Messiah on her own. But that reassurance, that feeling of needing to know he was okay, didn’t dissipate as he got older. Siobhan checked on her son every night, sometimes more than once. She could only settle when she laid eyes on Messiah and confirmed he was okay. Standing there, looking at him sleep so peacefully, a smile eased across her lips. He was okay. After everything, he was okay. Leaning down, she kissed her son on the forehead.

  “Good night, little man.”

  Before turning to leave, Siobhan checked to make sure Messiah’s Black Panther nightlight was on. Quietly, she padded across the room, turning off the overhead light.

  “Good night, little man.”

  Chapter Three

  Siobhan made her way down the hall. Before retiring to her bedroom just a few feet away from her sons, she doubled checked to ensure the house was locked up. Finding that the doors were securely fastened, she set the alarm. Once she heard the automated voice saying the house was secured, she breathed easier. Siobhan padded back through the house and to her bedroom. She left the door open just in case Messiah woke up. After a hot shower, Siobhan put on her PJ’s and climbed into bed. Naturally, her thoughts returned to what Messiah shared with her. It wasn’t the first time the ques
tion about family came up. Siobhan knew it wouldn’t be the last, but that didn’t make it any easier. It was hard for her sometimes to answer and try to explain the family dynamic. Every application, every form Siobhan filled out, asked the question, and reminded her of what did and did not happen when it came to Messiah. Most, if not all, personal encounters for her and now for her son seemed to bring that question about family composition to bear. It felt unavoidable. And for two-parent households and children who had both parents, the answer was easy. For those whose family composition wasn’t standard or traditional, the questions were bothersome at times and, at other times, sad. And Siobhan could handle it, for the most part. But when it impacted Messiah so directly, it broke her heart over and over again because there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t stop it, and she couldn’t change the facts. They were what they were.

  And those questions led Siobhan back to the beginning of it all. It seemed no matter how hard she tried, there were reminders everywhere, reawakening what she would have hoped that at least sometimes stayed closeted away. But that closet door seemed to open, a lot. Breathing her own sigh of relief or exacerbation, Siobhan wasn’t sure which. She reached for the lamp, turned off the light, then slid under the covers pulling them up close to her neck. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her thoughts. All she wanted was a good night’s sleep.

  As Siobhan drifted off, the closet door opened even wider. It was seven years ago. The memories flooded back and played out in her slumber like a movie reel. She could see her sister, Safiya. She could hear Safiya’s voice as clear as day. She could see the swell of her sister’s pregnant belly.

  “You look like you’re gonna pop,” Siobhan said, helping her sister to lie back on the examination table. They were there for one of the last sonograms Safiya would ever have.

  “I know, girl,” Safiya replied, huffing, trying to catch her breath. “This baby’s got my ankles swollen so bad, honey, they are past cankles.”

  The sisters roared with laughter. Siobhan didn’t want to laugh at her sister’s expense, but her thighs and her ankles looked to be about the same size. She stayed close, helping Safiya to lie back on the table, her belly rising under the loose-fitting shirt she wore.

  “But you know what, sis,” Safiya began, “I wouldn’t change it for a minute; not the swollen ankles, the back pain, the crazy cravings, the peeing every five minutes, none of it.”

  “Yo, Safiya, TMI, for real on your bathroom shenanigans,” Siobhan scoffed.

  “Whatever, girl,” Safiya giggled. “This will be you before you know it, and then you’ll understand exactly what I mean.”

  “I highly doubt it, sis,” Siobhan huffed. “Gotta get a man first and not just any man, a good man.”

  “He’s coming, Vawn, I know he is,” Safiya said, reaching out for her sister’s hand. Siobhan laced her fingers with her sister’s. Safiya and Siobhan were close, closer than close. And although they were only eighteen months apart, Safiya acted like the much older sister, always looking out for Siobhan. She wanted for her sister what she wanted for herself. And Safiya had everything she wanted, finally. With the birth of this baby, her family would be complete.

  “I won’t hold my breath,” she quipped.

  “Whatever, girl,” Safiya replied, tossing her free hand dismissively at her sister.

  When Siobhan felt Safiya squeeze her hand tightly, she looked up to see her sister’s eyes wide and her mouth slightly ajar.

  “What’s the matter?” Siobhan asked on the verge of panic.

  “Whew, chile,” Safiya finally said. “Feel this.”

  She guided their clutched hands to the side of her belly.

  “Just give it one second,” Safiya said and then turned the focus of her comments to the baby. “Don’t get all bashful on me now. Show your auntie what you’re made of.”

  Siobhan kept her hand there, waiting with bated breath on what had Safiya looking like she had been looking.

  “Ahh!” Siobhan squealed, feeling the baby move under her hand.

  “Boy or girl, this one has a powerful kick, child,” Safiya sighed. “Nearly took my breath away.”

  Siobhan heard her sister, but she wasn’t listening. She was transfixed by the movement of the baby. It was the strangest and most incredible feeling. And to know what her sister went through to get to this point made it even more miraculous. Safiya looked at her sister and saw the amazement in her eyes. She felt the same.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” a young lady said when she knocked on and opened the door.

  “Good afternoon,” the sisters chorused.

  “I’m Kimberly, and I’ll be doing your sonogram,” she announced as she walked across the room. “So, how far along are you?”

  “Thirty-eight weeks,” Safiya said with a smile.

  “Okay,” Kimberly said as she sat down. “And do you know the sex of the baby?”

  “No, we want that to be a surprise at the birth,” Safiya explained.

  “So, no gender reveal party,” Kimberly asked smilingly as she finished inputting numbers into the computer.

  “Not for us,” Safiya answered. “I think the surprise will be reveal enough.”

  “Okay,” Kimberly said, rolling closer to the table. “Let me help raise your shirt.”

  Siobhan took a step back, easing her hand from her sister’s. This whole pregnancy thing was as new for Safiya as it was for Siobhan. Kimberly helped Safiya lifting her shirt and picked up the wand.

  “This is going to be cold,” Kimberly reminded as she squeezed the gel onto the wand.

  “I know,” Safiya smiled. “This is the worst part,” Safiya said to Siobhan.

  “Since you don’t want to know the sex of the baby, I won’t say anything about that, and I’ll keep the wand high. Hopefully, if you’re looking, I won’t mistakenly show anything,” Kimberly explained.

  “I just made things a lot harder for you, didn’t I?” Safiya asked.

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Kimberly smiled.

  Siobhan watched as the technician placed the wand to her sister’s belly. Almost instantly, she heard a rhythmic thumping sound.

  “Is that the baby’s heart?” She asked.

  “Yep,” Safiya answered. “Strong, right?”

  “Yes,” Siobhan smiled widely. “Just like that kick.”

  When Kimberly turned the monitor around so the sisters could see, once again, Siobhan was awe-struck by what she saw.

  “Oh, wow,” she hummed. “You can see everything.”

  “It makes it real, doesn’t it?” Safiya mused as she looked at the monitor.

  “It does.”

  “The baby looks good,” Kimberly commented, moving the wand around to see various angles of the baby and to photograph them. Siobhan couldn’t stop staring. Seeing the full outline, the movement, the baby’s features, Siobhan was astonished.

  “Beautiful,” Safiya sighed, and when her voice hitched, Siobhan saw tears teetering on Safiya’s lids.

  “Aww, Safiya,” Siobhan sighed, reaching over, and wiping her sister’s tears away. “If you start crying, I’ll be crying, too.”

  “Then I guess we’ll be crying together,” Safiya sobbed as more tears fell without equivocation. Siobhan's eyes misted over. She couldn’t stop her tears from falling even as she wiped the ones from her sister’s cheeks.

  “After everything, after all, we’ve been through,” Safiya cried. “We’re having a baby.”

  Hearing the pained words her sister expressed from the very depths of her soul, Siobhan felt in the pit of hers. She knew what Safiya talked about, how much she’d been through, how she wanted a baby so bad, and finally, she had a baby she could see with her own eyes; one she could feel growing inside her, one she bonded with, in every song she sang as she rubbed her belly, and every positive thought she had to keep the baby’s environment calm. Every prayer they’d ever prayed was coming to fruition, and they could see it. There had been far too much worry an
d stress and crying and disappointments and sadness before this. Now, Safiya was so close to the finish line, and the heartbeat they could hear echoing through the room was confirmation.

  “Yes, sis,” Siobhan wept, “we are having a baby.”

  Siobhan shifted in her bed, repositioning herself underneath the covers. Her mind was still flooded with images of her sister, and of the baby they already loved.

  Chapter Four

  The Ali team arrived for their annual back to school drive. It was always an exciting time for Ameer’s staff. Giving back is what they did, and there was nothing that warmed their hearts more than seeing a child’s eyes light up when they received something they wanted. And that was what the day was all about, giving.

  “Mr. Ali, I’m so glad you opened this up for volunteers this year to join you,” Cheri beamed.

  “Thanks for volunteering,” Ameer replied, as he unloaded boxes from the back of the truck onto a hand trolley.

  “I think this is an incredible thing you’re doing, and I’m so happy to be a part of it.” Cheri couldn’t deny the pounding thump of her heartbeat that made her nearly pant in response. It ricocheted in her chest the more she stood near him. Ameer was amazingly handsome, towering over her womanly frame, his powerful muscular body moving with effortless grace. Cheri’s eyes moved down the length of him, narrowing and enlarging as she mentally devoured every inch. Unlike most days when Cheri saw Ameer suited and booted, custom dressed to the nines, there he was in a t-shirt and jeans, his beautifully proportioned body was even more on display. His jeans fit him exactly right, skimming the thick of his thighs, secure just below his slim waist. She could only imagine what his abs looked like, felt like. Cheri could practically count them through the fabric of his shirt. Her heart skipped another beat. The muscles in Ameer’s arms flexed as he lifted the boxes, his long-fingered hands demonstrated undeniable strength. Cheri couldn’t stop staring at Ameer’s broad shoulders a yard wide and molded in the finest chocolate bronze.