Chapter One
Omyia Avery- Jacobs
I feel like we give away too much of ourselves to the wrong people. We expect people who we wouldn’t trust our whole selves with to cherish the pieces of us that we chip off. We’re too forgiving and way too damn gifting to people who don’t deserve it. I can’t possibly be the only person who feels this way, but then again maybe I am. It’s because I wasn’t sheltered from the harsh cruelties of how the world goes. Instead, I was thrust right into the lion’s den and projected not to come out. My own mother couldn’t even stick around and handle her business, why would I ever feel like anyone else could? Life is complicated and unlike my own egg donor I didn’t blame everybody around me when I messed up. Well maybe not messed up because Messiah-Lee-Brown would forever be the best thing that happened to me. I could barely stomach the ground his father walked on, but for my son anything was possible. I had Omni at twenty years old while I was out here making every stupid decision known to man. My excuse was that I’m young up until my young ass made a baby. Thank God for my brother and my father because they were both there for me when I swear, I don’t know what the hell I was supposed to be doing. For some twentywasn’t really considered young, but to me it was because I didn’t even know myself yet. I had no substance or anything to give to a baby, but I had made one. I mean sure I could’ve aborted him or even given him up for adoption, but I wasn’t about any of that. I knew enough about myself to know that either one of those acts would have haunted me to the day I died and even further than that. I ain’t no pro-lifer or any of that. If anything, I’m just one of those women who believe that I made the kid so it’s up to me to care for it and give it a fair chance in this world. What I didn’t expect was for Messiah to be born and become everything to me. He was the same for his father, just not enough for him to leave these streets alone.
I met Messiah’s father, Argus, when I was too damn young and careless. That was when I thought that street nigga appeal was cute. The thing is I grew up and realized that was all it was. Don’t get me wrong I’d always love Argus, but for him the streets were everything. He was no different from my brother or even my father. My father stepped out of the game, but my brother was still there. I couldn’t want any better for Knoxx than he wanted for himself. Knoxx had to want more than the streets, but he didn’t. Right now, he loves it. Brother or not I’d always be here for him, but the streets weren’t my thing. My thing was being the best mother in my power and expanding my business beyond Chicago. My thoughts were interrupted by my four-year-old wanting my attention.
“Mommy eye.” My son was sitting on the counter pointing at his eye while I stamped the sale price on my seasonal fragrances.
“Yes, eye Ssiah.”
I glanced up at him briefly before I went back to what I was doing. I usually didn’t bring him to the store with me, but my father was busy, and my brother wasn’t answering his phone. It was Argus’s weekend with Ssiah, but as he decided to tell me last minute he was stuck in New Jersey after his flight was canceled.Anyway, I couldn’t just not open my store, so I got my baby together and we came to work. It wasn’t ideal, but I had to do what I had to do.
“I won’t be long, Nor. I just want to see if they’re hiring,” I heard a female voice seconds before I heard the bell attached to my door indicating that the door had been opened. When I looked up, I locked eyes with a teenager that didn’t look any older than about seventeen. She had the cheekiest eyes, and I could tell the most cheerful personality.
“Hi, my name is Niema Payne. I was wondering if you guys are hiring?”
I looked her over for a few seconds before nodding my head and reaching for the business card near my register. I don’t know why because I damn sure needed the help. If I wasn’t working, then it was my cousin and if not her then it was this janky ass girl that I hired when I first opened. I only said janky because she called off more days than she worked. I had been meaning to hold a few interviews, but time always got away from me. “Welcome in. How old are you?”
“Sixteen, but I’ll be seventeen in December.”
I handed her the business card that instructed her where and how to apply. “Have you ever worked retail?”
“Yes, not for long though. I’m really good with customer service.”
“Can you come in on Friday around twelve and we’ll see what you can do and if we can work something out?”
She nodded her head up and down excitedly. “Yes, ye?—”
The sound of my door opening and then the deep baritone filled the space. “C’mon Ema. You know that nigga ain’t patient for shit.” I looked up and locked eyes with a man that was almost too beautiful to exist. Nothing about this nigga was feminine, but he was freaking breathtaking.
“I’m coming, Mari. I jus?—”
“What’s taking you so long in here anyway?” He walked further into the store giving me a better view of him. He was handsome, just not my type. He was almost too pretty.
“What do you sell here sweetheart?” By now he was talking to me.
“Candles and different home fragrances. Stop asking crazy questions, Mari. I’m sorry about my brother, Ms…”
“Omyia, but you can call me Ommy.” I smiled in her direction.
She began to walk off toward the door, but her brother had yet to move. Instead, he made himself comfortable at my counter.
“Don’t be apologizing for me, Niema. Can I call you Ommy too?” he asked with a smirk.
I nodded awkwardly, before I focused my attention on my son who was holding my phone up for me to unlock it. I helped Ssiah down and handed him my phone after I unlocked it. “Is there any?—”
“I’m tryna buy a few candles. You know, make my crib smell good and shit.” He looked around before I felt his eyes on me again.
I chuckled because this was typical nigga shit, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t take his money. “And what scents are you into, Mr...”
“Namari.”
I nodded. “What scents do you like?”
He was about to respond when I heard the door open once again. This time I knew it was my cousin because her high-pitched voice filled the space. Surah was my cousin on my father’s side. She was more like my sister.
“My bad Ommy, I had a shoot. I’ll take this shi— Well hello handsome,” she greeted with her outspoken ass. She rounded the counter and picked up Messiah, then focused on him.
