When History Repeats Itself

Chapter Five

** Almara - Selita Ebanks**

"Time to get a new car!" Dad practically sang as he knocked repeatedly on my bedroom door. I groaned and pulled the covers over my head. My alarm was ringing—annoying as ever—and I felt like just a few more minutes of sleep would have made all the difference.

Reluctantly, I threw back the covers and headed for the shower. A cold rinse and quick teeth brushing later, I slipped on a pair of black skinny jeans and a pink silk blouse. I slid into my white-and-pink sandals, grabbed my purse, and went downstairs.

At breakfast, the family was already gathered. Sumaya was in one of her moody moods—the kind that started the day she insisted on packing her own things from the apartment. I'd offered to help since I'd already begun packing, but she refused. Now, every morning before she left for work, we had to endure moody Sumaya.

I greeted her, but she just grunted in reply—a new addition to her usual cold 'morning'. If this continued, next week she'd probably just shrug.

I quietly ate my oat porridge and drank juice. Aunt Jamila kept watching me eat, fully aware of my hatred for porridge. Dad wouldn't stop asking what kind of car I wanted, while Aunt Jamila fussed over Sumaya's perpetually messy ponytail—the only hairstyle she'd adopt lately.

Dad nudged me. "Let's get going."

I washed my dishes, then his, and soon we were out the door after he kissed Sumaya's forehead.

"I think Yaya needs a therapist," Dad muttered as we got in the car. "These moody breakfasts are getting worse."

"Oh, she's just a ray of sunshine," I said sarcastically.

"Maybe she needs a date—"

"Dad, no. You're not setting her up with your associates, clients' kids, or your friend's sister's cousin at the hospital."

"Maybe all she needs is to know what it means to be with a good man."

"Have you been reading Cosmo or watching telenovelas? Last thing she needs is another man. She just ended her marriage."

"Well, you know what they say: you can only forget someone you love by loving someone else more."

"Now you sound like you're quoting love songs. Who are you?"

He chuckled. I shook my head.

We arrived at the Toyota dealership I'd passed so many times. Dad led me inside, and suddenly I came face to face with Almara.

"Mr. Effah!" she exclaimed, hugging Dad warmly.

"Almara, how are you, dear?" Dad matched her enthusiasm.

"I just wanted a new car—my old one isn't sending the right vibe anymore. Why, hello Kerry."

"Hello, Almara," I said curtly.

"I tried visiting Sumaya, but she's shut me out. I can only see her from afar at the hospital. She's my best friend, and I want to be there for her."

Almara's concern surprised me; her usual unpleasantness sometimes made me forget how genuine her friendship with Sumaya was.

"Don't worry. She's hurting and pushing people away. She's proud and hates feeling pitied. You know how Yaya gets."

Almara smiled knowingly. What was I missing?

"I don't need to learn that lesson twice. I'll keep trying."

"We're doing our best to make sure she's okay."

Almara waved goodbye, jingling her new keys as she left, turning heads as she strutted out. I hated to admit it, but Almara was undeniably desirable.

"I still don't get why you and Almara don't get along. Is it because Sumaya picked you over her as maid of honor? Or is it you causing the rift?"