Ameer (The Brothers Ali Book 5) Read online

  A knock at the door interrupted Cheri’s loving moment.

  “Excuse me,” Ameer said, standing up from the corner of his desk.

  Cheri watched her man as he crossed the room and opened the door. Her eyes widened when Ameer stepped aside, and men in uniforms walked in. She didn’t immediately recognize who or what they were at first, but when their badges came into view, Cheri’s eyes widened as she scooted to the end of her chair.

  “Mr. Ali?” One officer addressed.

  “Yes, this young lady admitted to sabotaging my fiancé’s car. My mechanic has the evidence.”

  “Is that true, ma’am?” The officer asked, turning his full attention to Cheri.

  “Of course, it’s true,” Cheri defended, repeating her story without repentance. “She’s a horrible woman,” she said in protest. “So, yes, I sabotaged her car if that’s what you want to call it. But I did it to spare him from the pain I know she would cause him. I did it to save Ameer because I love him.”

  “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to stand up, please,” the officer demanded. He and another officer moved closer to Cheri, their figures imposing.

  “Stand up? For what?”

  “Because you are under arrest, Ms. Jones.”

  When she seemed reluctant to move on her own, one of the officer’s reached down and grabbed Cheri by the elbow, compelling her to move.

  “Take your hands off me!”

  The other officer stepped in to assist, grabbing Cheri by her arm and making her stand despite her protest.

  “Ms. Jones, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you. Do you understand these rights as I have said them to you?”

  The officer pulled Cheri’s arms behind her and started to cuff her. She pulled away from his grasp, refusing to be bound and shackled, forcing the officer to handle her more roughly.

  “This is not right! Don’t you know true love when you see it?”

  Cheri turned her protest to Ameer. “Why are you doing this to me? I love you, Ameer! Don’t you get it? I love you. I waited for you!”

  “It looks like you’ll have to wait a while longer,” Ameer rebuffed.

  He watched as the officer’s got Ms. Jones under control, closing the handcuffs on her wrist and marching her out of his office.

  Ameer still had difficulty processing what just transpired. He contemplated whether he should share any of it with Siobhan, to let her know that what happened to her car was no accident. It didn’t take Ameer long to decide that Siobhan would be spared. She didn’t need to know about Cheri’s craziness. She didn’t need to be concerned that someone would be so callous. Siobhan deserved to do what other brides would be doing, planning her wedding – nothing more and nothing less.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  One Month Later

  The Robison Atrium

  High Museum of Art

  Siobhan stood in front of the full-length mirror, her manicured fingers tracing the ebb and flow of the Swarovski crystal embroidery that highlighted the bodice of her couture, Shukri Hashi wedding gown. It was a beautiful dress with a heart-shaped neckline, taut bodice of pleated satin, and elongated rosettes made of toile over satin that graced her hips and floated away from her, leading to a six-foot train.

  Her wedding gown.

  That idea alone was daunting. Siobhan hadn’t always seen this day for herself. She wasn’t the one who dreamed of being married to a wonderful man with a house, a white picket fence, and 2.5 children. That had always been her sister’s dream. In some ways, Siobhan felt like she was infringing on Safiya’s happy ending, the one she didn’t get a chance to see to fruition. The moment was bittersweet.

  Ameer was incredible. He was more than Siobhan could have ever hoped for if she hoped in that way. But she hadn’t. She never allowed herself to after everything. There were far too many men who didn’t want to accept the baggage that came along with a single mom and her child. But Messiah wasn’t baggage. He was Siobhan’s lifeline when she was overwrought with the guilt of being alive when her sister wasn’t, and parenting such a resilient, brilliant boy when Safiya never got the chance. And it was because Ameer never treated her son as though he was disposable that Siobhan opened her heart to him.

  Now, she was marrying him.

  A rap at the door pulled Siobhan from her thoughts.

  “Come in,” she called, stepping away from the mirror.

  “Oh my, Siobhan, you look amazing!” Charity beamed as she, Aya, Cairo, Racquel, and Naomi entered the bridal suite. Siobhan was happy to see them. The Ali women had been so welcoming, not just to her but to Messiah as well.

  “Amazing is an understatement,” Racquel added. “Girl, you look so beautiful.”

  “You all are too sweet,” Siobhan sighed.

  “Well,” Cairo began, “we’re not going to hold you long and keep Ameer waiting.”

  As she spoke, the other ladies formed a circle around Siobhan.

  “We could never take the place of your sister, Siobhan, and we would never try,” Naomi began.

  “But marrying Ameer brings you into our sisterhood,” Aya continued.

  “And we want you to know that you are welcome,” Racquel added.

  “So,” Charity sighed, “in my family, we have a tradition. When a sister marries, we share special mementos with her, you know, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue,” she smiled. “I couldn’t think of a more perfect moment than to share that tradition.”

  “Siobhan, Aya began. “I have something old for you.” Aya paused, finding it difficult to hold back the tears. “I too lost someone very dear to me. I won’t tell you I know what you’re going through with the loss of your sister, Safiya. But I can tell you that even though it may not feel like it sometimes, it may not feel like it’s fair, it's okay for you to live and love.” Aya reached up, lifting a jeweled comb from her hair. “This was my mother’s, something she treasured that she never got a chance to wear because she never found a man worthy of her heart. She kept it in a small treasure box covered with dust. When I reunited with my sister, Ava, she shared the story and the box with me. Oh, I cried at the sight of it, just like I’m crying now. The box made me so sad, Siobhan, because it represented everything my mother wanted but never received. But when I took a moment to dust off the box, I realized that the box and the treasure inside was more than a sad representation. The box was hope; hope that she held on to despite everything. This comb is the manifestation of hope that carries forward even though she’s gone. I want to share that hope with you.”

  “I couldn’t,” Siobhan faltered, tears teetering on her lids.

  “I insist,” Aya smiled. Turning to the table behind her and picking up a tissue, Aya wiped the comb.

  “I need one of those, too,” Siobhan guffawed.

  “Me too,” Charity added as tears spilled onto her cheeks. Aya smiled, handing Siobhan a tissue, and passing the box to Charity.

  “You might as well pass that right on around,” Racquel said as she wiped away tears of her own.

  “May I,” Aya asked as she approached the bride.

  “Are you sure you want to part with it?” Siobhan asked.

  “Absolutely,” Aya smiled.

  “It’s too much,” Siobhan protested.

  “Not for my new sister,” Aya insisted.

  Siobhan was overwhelmed as Aya lovingly placed the jeweled comb in her hair.

  “Thank you.”

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to come behind that,” Cairo smiled, dabbing at the tears in her eyes. “But here goes. Siobhan, I have something new for you.”

  Cairo removed a bangle from her arm and held it up so Siobhan and the other ladies could see.

  “This is a moonstone,” Cairo began. This stone is said to represent wisdom, peace, protection, and passion. You have
already shown yourself to be wise. It is my hope for you that the wisdom you so gracefully display grows exponentially. I wish for you peace, Siobhan, that passes all understanding. And with that abiding peace, acceptance of what was, what is, and what is to come. This moonstone represents passion as well. I wish for you passion in every facet of your life that blossoms into something more beautiful than you could ever dream.” Cairo paused before continuing.

  “The stone is held in place by copper, which represents feminine beauty, artistic creativity, caring, and balance. I think much about the copper and why I chose it for you is obvious. But just in case you needed a reminder, Siobhan, you embody those characteristics so elegantly. It is my hope for you that your artistic creativity increases tenfold, that you take the time to care for yourself as much as you care for others, and that you balance all of the things that hurt you with the things that make you strong.”

  Cairo stepped forward, placing the bangle on Siobhan’s arm.

  “Thank you so much, Cairo, it’s beautiful.”

  “You’re more than welcome.”

  “Why are you all making this so hard,” Racquel fussed. “I can’t stop crying enough to speak.”

  “I know my makeup is probably ruined,” Siobhan smiled, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

  “Don’t worry about that, girl,” Charity replied. “We’ll fix you up before its time.”

  “We gone all need fixing up before this is over,” Naomi added.

  “Well, it’s my turn,” Racquel continued. “Siobhan, I have something borrowed for you. But full disclosure, though,” Racquel said. “I borrowed this from your mom.”

  Racquel took a moment and unpinned a brooch from her dress.

  “When I told your mom what we wanted to do for you, she wanted to be a part of it. I can’t think of a better way than by sharing with you the brooch your mom wore when she married your dad. This brooch, Siobhan, was your great grandmothers. Your mom wanted you to have it.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Siobhan breathed. “Safiya wore this on her wedding day.”

  “And now, beautiful, you will wear it on yours,” Racquel smiled.

  Siobhan couldn’t stop the tears from falling as Racquel pinned the brooch.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Siobhan cried as she hugged Racquel.

  “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “And last but hopefully not least,” Naomi began, “I have something blue for you, Siobhan.”

  Naomi took a second to pick up her gift from the table close by.

  “This is for after the wedding, for after the guests are gone, and the congratulations end. This is for after the honeymoon when you, Messiah, and Ameer start settling into your new lives together as a family. This is for those quiet moments when you are alone with your thoughts and feelings no matter what they are. This journal is for you, Siobhan, to write down all the things you wish you would have said, kept yourself from saying, or couldn’t quite find the right words at the time to say. This is a safe place for you to feel whatever you need to feel and say whatever it is you need to say, whenever you need to say it.”

  “Naomi, I love it, thank you,” Siobhan smiled. “This, all of this is just too much.”

  “Well, dear sister, you might as well get used to it,” Charity advised. “It’s how we get down in the Ali family. Isn’t that right, ladies?”

  “That’s right,” the women chorused.

  “Now, let’s help you with the final touches,” Charity continued. “So, you can go marry your man.”

  Down the hall in the groom’s suite, the Ali men gathered sharing Ameer’s last few moments as a single man. But the moment they shared was more than for Ameer. It was for Messiah, too.

  “Messiah,” O’Shea said, as he stood behind Messiah in the full-length mirror helping with his tie. “Today is a big day, not just for your mom, but for you, too. Ameer and your mom are making promises and vows to each other today because they love each other. We know that their vows, their love includes you. We want you to know, young king, that we have some vows and promises we want to make to you. Is that okay?”

  “I think so,” Messiah nodded.

  “Cool,” O’Shea smiled. “Come on. Let’s go to the other room and talk with the guys.”

  Messiah followed O’Shea out of the dressing area into the living room where the Ali men were gathered.

  “I’ll start,” O’Shea said as he ushered Messiah to a seat on the couch, sitting down next to him. “First Messiah, welcome to our family. It’s good to have such a bright, brilliant young brother become a part of us.”

  All the brothers nodded in agreement.

  “I can imagine that you might have mixed feelings about your mom getting married today. But know this, we, all of us, are not only here for your mom, but we are also here for you, too. I am here, understand? If you ever need anything, I am here. That’s my promise, my vow to you, Messiah. I am here for you in whatever way you need me to be.”

  O’Shea offered a closed fist to Messiah, a masculine display of bonding. Messiah bumped his fist with O’Shea as Basel started to speak.

  “Messiah,” Basel began. “I just want you to know that I welcome you into our family. Whether you know it or not, you just got a whole lot of uncles, and that can be scary. But I want you to know that we are here for you. I am here for you. If you want to talk or just hang, if you need anything big or small, I’ve got your back. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Messiah smiled.

  “Cool,” Basel added, giving the young king some dap.

  “Messiah,” Khalid started as he squatted down in front of Messiah, bring himself to Messiah’s level. “Welcome to our family. And I mean that with my whole heart. We welcome you, Messiah, with open arms. And just like my older brothers said and I echo, I am here for you, in whatever way you want or need me to be. And it’s cool with me for you to take this new uncle stuff at your own pace, right, because it’s all brand new for all of us. But I can’t wait for us to hang out together, go to the park, the movies, throw the ball around, or whatever you want to do. Just know that I am here, and not just for today. You’re stuck with me if you want to be. Cool?”

  “Cool,” Messiah grinned.

  “Give me a high five to seal the deal,” Khalid encouraged.

  “The deal is sealed,” Messiah laughed, giving Khalid a high five.

  “Little man,” Tareef smiled as he took his brother’s place in front of Messiah. He lifted his hand, encouraging the young man to lean in. “Just so you know, I’m the coolest one in the bunch,” Tareef whispered in his ear.

  Hearing Messiah laugh was what Tareef was aiming for.

  “Welcome to the family, man,” he continued, settling back. “We are glad you are a part of us. I just want you to know that we are lucky to have you. And I hope that one day, even if it's not today, you feel okay about all these uncles you’re inheriting. Just know, I am here for you in whatever way you need me to be. If you need a shoulder to lean on, use mine. If you want to talk about a situation, I am here to listen, and if you want to have fun, I am definitely here for it. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Messiah agreed.

  There was only one brother left. Ameer inclined himself to Messiah on the couch.

  “Young king,” he began, “I know we’ve talked before, but I just wanted to let you know again, that when I fell in love with your mother, I fell in love with you, too. You are an incredible young man, and I am honored to be a part of your life. I promise that I won’t push you too hard, too far, too fast. I expect that you need time to get used to all of this, to get used to me being a daily part of your life. And I’m good with that. We can learn and experience and grow in this thing together, because its new for me, too. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. You are a part of my family, and I take care of my family. Understand?”

  “Yeah,” Messiah nodded. I understand.

  “Cool,” Ameer smiled. “Is it okay if I give you a hug?”

 
“Yeah, that’s cool, too.”

  Messiah and Ameer shared a special moment as they embraced.

  “I don’t want to break up a good time,” O’Shea interjected, “but, Ameer, it’s time.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The Robison Atrium, an architectural wonder within The High Art Museum, provided an exquisite backdrop for Siobhan and Ameer’s ceremony. Guests experienced the signature Richard Meier building with its dramatic light-filled space as they walked down five spiraling floors of African American art to the foundational floor where a four-piece string quartet awaited them.

  “Are you ready, my beautiful daughter,” Daniel asked as he and his wife met Siobhan on the second level of the atrium.

  “I am,” she replied. Siobhan looked over to her mom.

  “Aww, mommy, you’re gonna make me cry, too.”

  “I can’t help it,” Catherine sighed. “My baby girl.”

  It was a moment for both of them as they lovingly embraced. Daniel did his best to stay strong for both of them, although the moment was equally as emotional for him. Siobhan was his baby girl, too, and although he knew Ameer to be more than an admirable suitor, Daniel struggled with relinquishing his primary place in her life to make room for another man.

  “I love you, Bhan,” Catherine whispered against her daughter’s cheek.

  “I love you more.”

  As the bridal song lyrically lifted into the air, Siobhan interlocked her arms with her mom and dad. They proceeded down the spiral walk to Ameer, who stood with her son by his side, waiting for her.

  “Would everyone please stand to receive the bride,” the officiant, Nile Brooks, announced.

  Ameer was waiting for her, with Messiah by his side. They were both dressed in matching black tuxedos, accented with white on white pocket squares and ties. From the moment Siobhan came into view, two stories above, Ameer followed her with his eyes, experiencing that nascent feeling all over again of the first time he saw her. To describe Siobhan as exquisite did her no justice. She was breathtaking. The burning in his chest reminded Ameer that he needed to breathe because once again, the woman that he loved stole his breath away.