.1.

Welcome, my fellow people, as you join this journey feel at home and drop where you are reading from, I would like to know what's going on in that beautiful mind.

POVs will shift.

This is just the beginning; more dialogue will take place, and that's a promise. If you care to know how serious I am, feel free to jump skip to a few chapters from here. (Just like skipping through a movie)

If you don't want to do that, then just take the risk and go along with the flow.

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Amari Jackson glanced at her wristwatch before looking around the table. 'Just half an hour remaining until everyone leaves,' She thought.

Forks and knives could be heard slicing and dicing on plates, among chattering and loud laughter.

The music to the left, coming from a Bluetooth box could hardly be heard.

What a family gathering it had been. It felt like years of mental torture. Voices clawed at her mentality as the differences in accents converse with each other.

Something stomped hard on her toes, and she held in a grunt before swallowing a scream.

"Sorry, Aunty Amari,"A tiny voice said, to her left. A boy around the age of six smiled at her.

She did a facial grimace and a facepalmed.

"Paris! Paris sit down!" A deep demanding voice boomed out.

"Oh, Dear, don't shout at her like that; come to grandma, come here."

"How old are you now baby?"

"Six? Isn't that right Mommy? Am I six years old?" Paris asked, Amari, her mom.

"Browning? Yuh ago falla we go di airport, right? You ain't looking too good over there, you good?"

Amari did a head bobbed and stretched across the table to get a glass of water.

"...and mi did a seh di wull a di room stink, like seh di hog scent in deh."

"... every day she deh pan ticktock."

"What the bloody hell is that?" Another voice asked, sounding like a parrot.

Screeches of suitcases were heard, so loud she wondered if her hearing sense had heightened.

She shoved away the chair and went upstairs. Standing on the balcony. She has had enough. She was done.

Looking out at the hills, she took deep breaths, enjoying the stillness as the loud chattering was far behind her.

Her sky-blue dress flew around her as the wind lifted.

She held on tightly and bent a little.

If only she had wings, she would let go, and maybe then she wouldn't be so uptight.

"Babe?"

Startled she leaned up, a little too quickly, almost slipped in the heels.

A dark skin-toned arm held her around the waist, and she turned to see the man that had boomed at Paris earlier.

"Cals? Oh, it's you. Where's is Paris?" She asked, placing fingers at her temple.

"She's saying goodbye to them, we are leaving now. Do you want to stay or?"

"No, no, let her say goodbye to them at the airport. It's fine."

"Are you okay babe?" Cals asked, feeling her for fever.

"You are burning up. Let me get you an ibuprofen; take it and rest until we get back."

He held on to her arm, and slowly, they made their way back downstairs into the noise.

"Turn down the voices." Cals said, but the chatter continued.

"Oyi! Uno tek time chat man, uno see di woman head a hot har?" For a doctor to snap like that, they didn't expect it, because most of them never saw him the least upset.

His nickname to them could have been Mr cool.

The accents went seizing as old and young gathered the last of their belongings, some of them hugging each other since they would enter separate planes for different locations.

Family's from Amari's mom, who is a Jamaican, and her dad, who is African American.

She had come down from the States to live with Cals; both their families would visit every Christmas and then leave a few days after the new year. She had a six-year-old daughter, who's now being settled in a Jamaica school, while Cals further his Doctor career.

Who would have thought that she would leave her family and come to Jamaica to live with Cals Renard?

It's been three solid years, she has yet to step her feet back into a plane.

Maybe that's the reason she's been so uptight, or is it the fact that being twenty-seven, working as a hotel receptionist, and being with a Doctor who seems more focused on his job than her? Or is she imagining things?

"Mommy? Are you okay?" Paris asked, her face layered with black cake.

"Jesus Christ, who gives mi pickney rum cake?" The Jamaican in her surfaces.

Murmurs could be heard in the room as she dragged Paris aggressively by the arm.

"Oh God, Browning tek time wid har, man."

"I apologize for the ending, and I thank you all for visiting, mummy, yuh know mi rate yuh a ready, but a time fi uno all go now, Amari isn't feeling well, unfortunately," Cals said.

He pulled a jacket from the back of a chair and grabbed his keychain and phone.

"Let's go." He did daps with the men, and he ushered them outside, and peace reigns.

***

"I didn't mean anything bad, Mommy. Jason was eating it too."

"Jason is older than you, baby; he's like fifteen. He can eat as much as he likes; he knows how much to eat, you don't. Look at what you did to your skin," Amari mumbled.

Paris had a darker skin tone; she was a mixture of her father; the only things she took evident from Amari were the coolie hair, pinkish lips, and bright eyes. And as Amari's mother would say 'A little stink attitude.'

It became difficult to scrub the cake off.

"Just go in the bathroom. Wait, don't touch anything."

If only she knew that Paris disobeyed her the moment her back was turned. Whoever made that cake had soaked it into rum, causing Paris to fall asleep almost drowning in the tub of water.

The bathroom got flooded, and she had to mop everything and clean the entire house, including the dining table.

Cals came home to see her kneeling on the floor, scrubbing it clean from black cake.

"Babe? Where's is Paris?"

'Doesn't he see the situation am in?' She thought.

"She's sleeping," and without another word, she was left to clean like a housewife without a ring.

Tears leaked from her eyes when she stood up and looked around the spotless, organized room and remembered what it looked like before.

The sun had set, the dusk was about to fall, and her heart pained with longing. She hoped Paris would wake up okay; she had to prep her for the first week of school and herself for the first week of work.

"Babe?!" She strained her voice and asked. Quickly wiping away the tears, she waited for him to answer.

"Just go to sleep, Amari," Cals came around the corner and removed his jacket; he placed it around a chair and came towards her. Pressing his lips to her forehead.

"But- I, I haven't showered as yet."

"Go to shower and sleep then."

"It's barely seven o'clock," Amari glanced at her watch and looked up at him.

"You are tired, babe. Give this to me," He said, taking the mop from her, he placed it down and lifted her.

Tears leaked from her eyes, as she felt overwhelmed.

"We both have work tomorrow; you'll get up later and eat something, and prep yourself, but for now, you need to rest."

Maybe she wasn't hearing clearly because it had been months since Cals had been so caring towards her.

Why is Cals suddenly so nice?

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Thoughts?- THIS is just the BEGINNING.

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