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December 25, 2019
6:16 p.m.
“What are you some kind of fashion model? Mom, Astalia don’ brought a pretty boy home,” James Jr. yells from the front door, and immediately, there is an atmosphere shift from when I met Omega’s family earlier. The shenanigans have officially began.
I look at Omega, and he’s not amused by James Jr.’s introduction. “No, I don’t model,” he says calmly.
“Come on in, pretty boy.” James Jr. reaches his hand out to shake Omega’s, who realizes his strength is being tested. Omega pulls him forward without budging, then gives him a look that asks “You good?”
James nods and smiles. “Oh, you a strong pretty boy, huh?”
“Move out of the way and let us in, James!” I order. He is too old to be acting this way, but it’s the same thing every time I see him.
“Hi, I’m her cousin, Jayne,” Jayne directs to Omega from the couch. Leaning around James Jr., my eyes widen upon seeing her. I can’t believe she is really here right on time like she said she would be.
“Hey, Jayne!” I squeal as I go over to give her a hug.
&nbs
p; When we break away from our hug, Jayne is fussing. “Yeah, you act like you can’t call anybody these last few weeks, but that’s okay.” She eyes Omega from his wavy, freshly lined hair to his black loafers, then smiles. “Do your thing, sis.” Apparently, that’s her way of giving approval.
“Hi, Jayne,” Omega interjects.
“Good to see you again. And you have my cousin glowing, so that gives you a major plus,” she replies, tongue in cheek.
“Is that Astalia out there?” Mom asks, approaching the living room.
“Yes, it’s me, Mom. How are you?” I inquire as she enters the room.
“Give me a hug, baby girl. I haven’t seen you in so long.” She hugs me and then takes two steps back. “Let me see what you have on. That’s cute, Astalia. You could have gotten your pants a little looser so they wouldn’t be tugging at your thighs like that, but it’s cute.”
Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes disrespectfully, my wide smile turns into a thin line across my lips. “Thanks, Mom.” I think.
When I look at Omega, he has fine wrinkles across his forehead. Mom opens her arms to hug him, and they embrace.
“I happen to think Astalia’s thighs look beautiful in her pants, and I wouldn’t change one thing about her legs,” he proclaims when he pulls away from Mom and stares into her eyes.
Mom seems shaken for a second before she waves him off. “Oh, I know my daughter is beautiful. I made her. It’s just that those pants—”
“Compliment her beauty perfectly,” Omega finishes for her. The man has throwing subtle hints down pat without bruising feelings, one more reason to love him.
I reach my hand out to grab his, intertwining my fingers in his. Omega is in full protection mode. Knowing him only a few weeks, I fully understand he came here today to challenge anyone who bothers me. He looks back at me briefly. In that moment, I assure him without speaking that I can handle my family.
“Well, I hope you guys brought your appetite because your brothers are already in the kitchen fixing plates,” Mom informs, walking off toward the kitchen.
I go into the kitchen with Omega behind me, and it’s a madhouse. Everyone is in there, trying to get plates prepared and then take them off to the dining room area or the den.
“Go on in and get what you want. We have plenty to eat,” Mom says assuredly. “But Astalia, go light on the sweet potato pie. That shirt barely has any room for you to breathe. Is that the medium I bought you last year?”
“Mom!” Everything stops when I yell at the top of my lungs, tired of being singled out and picked on. The people in the kitchen turn and stare. All talking ceases. I swear it even sounds like the TV stops playing. I’ve certainly had enough of her badgering. “Would you please stop it with the snide remarks? I just walked through the door, and you have gone in on me twice already. Then, you’re doing it in front of Omega, who you are meeting for the first time. Have you ever stopped and thought about how you make me feel when you address me like I’m not good enough?”
Stunned by my outburst, her eyes bulge out of her head. “Well, Astalia, I was just—”
James Jr. cuts her off. “I know you’re not in here yelling at Mama. You can go on with that, Astalia!”
He can get it too, today.
I step forward. “And you, James Jr.—a man who doesn’t have enough integrity or common sense in his whole body to carry my father’s name—you can shut your stupid, want-to-be-sixteen ass up and stop talking to me!”
