No Ordinary Love (G Street Chronicles Presents The Love. Lies & Lust Series)

by Mz. Robinson

  “How is the baby?” Shayla asked brightly. “Did she have a girl or a boy?”

  “A boy,” I informed her. “However, he didn’t make it.”

  “Oh my,” she said, throwing her hand against her chest. “She was so happy...I’m so sorry Damon.”

  “Thank you,” I said. There was a moment of silence between the two of us until Shayla finally stated she was leaving.

  “Thank you again for what you did,” I said. “I sincerely appreciate it.”

  “It was truly my pleasure,” she said, looking at me. “Take care.”

  Chapter 4

  Octavia

  I blinked once, then once more, adjusting my eyes to the soft fluorescent lights beaming down upon me in the bed. The inside of my mouth felt like it had been scrubbed raw. I flinched as I swallowed, wanting desperately to saturate my painfully dry throat. Looking over to my right, I saw my husband asleep on the small leather recliner next to the bed. He was stretched out with his mouth hanging slightly open, wearing the uncommon attire of a t-shirt, sweat pants and Nikes. I cut my eyes from one side of the room to the other admiring the wall-to-wall flowers; from roses to calla lilies, the room was covered. I smiled knowing that my husband was responsible for the majority of my little-personal garden.

  “Damon,” I spoke aloud, barley recognizing my own voice. I watched him as he tossed then turned in the chair looking extremely uncomfortable. “Damon,” I called again, this time slightly louder. His eyes opened instantly. He stared at me like he was looking at me for the first time.

  “Hey,” I said smiling.

  “Hey baby.” he said sitting up. “I thought I was dreaming.” He climbed out the chair he was sitting in and walked over and stood next to the bed I was in. “How do you feel?”

  “Thirsty,” I sighed.

  “Let me get you some water,” he said quickly. He moved to the small plastic canister sitting on the metal, rolling tray in the corner of the room and began to fill up one of the plastic cups resting on the tray.

  “Here you go,” he said, returning to my bedside. My body felt extremely heavy as I sat up with Damon’s assistance. “Drink slow,” he instructed, cradling the back of my head with one hand and holding the cup to my lips with the other. The water tasted like the best thing I had ever had as it cooled my tingling tongue, then coated my aching throat. I took another small sip before reclining back in the bed.

  “Thank you,” I said appreciatively.

  “No thank you is ever needed,” he replied. He sat the cup down on the nightstand beside the bed then leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I missed you.”

  “How long have I been out?” I asked. “A couple of hours?”

  “Three days,” Damon informed me.

  “Three days…” I said in disbelief.

  “Yes,” he said. “Do you remember how you got here?” I paused, attempting to focus and think back. My memories slowly began to resurface.

  “My water broke,” I said slowly. “I was standing in the street outside the restaurant. Tabitha came to help and one of my customers--”

  “Shayla?” Damon asked, cutting me off.

  I remembered the woman whom had helped me and Amel. “Yes,” I answered. “She was there, but then it gets foggy. They said the baby was a boy and…I remember the pain in my chest and I felt like I was dying. My life flashed before me...” I paused while trying to remember why I was in the middle of the street in the first place. The vision of Amel lying dead on the pavement danced vividly before me. “Amel,” I breathed. I felt a small lump rising in my throat. “She walked out...in front of the car...she just stepped off the sidewalk into traffic…it was horrible…seeing her body--”

  “Shhh…” Damon ordered, brushing my hair with the palm of his hand. “Don’t think about that right now.”

  I nodded my head as tears trickled down my cheeks. I wanted to understand what made Amel do what she did. I wanted to try and make sense of it, but I couldn’t. I wished that I could flip the scene and create a new canvas of the picture of her intentionally stepping off the curb that day, but no amount of imagination, no degree of wishful thinking could undo that memory. Maybe, she slipped and I missed interpreted her actions. I thought I had seen it exactly as it had taken place, but maybe I was wrong. It didn’t make sense. I inhaled through my nose then slowly exhaled through my parted lips telling myself that I had to focus on the positive in that moment; the newest addition to my family. I assumed due to my extended rest our son was in the nursery. Something I never imagined Damon would allow, but I presumed he felt it necessary.

  “You got what you wanted,” I said, forcing myself to look on the brighter side.

  “What’s that sweetie?” Damon asked, stroking my cheek with his fingertips.

  “A boy,” I answered. Silence. He stopped caressing my face then stood up straight. I stared at him, searching his eyes with mine waiting for him to respond. He didn’t. There was something in Damon’s expression that ignited the flames of my worst fears; the fear of losing a child. I looked around the room again. I had noticed the flowers earlier, but I had failed to realize, there was nothing in the room indicating the celebration of the birth of our son. “Damon?” I asked, hoping that my perception was wrong. He had sympathy in his eyes as he shook his head.

  “I’m sorry,” he said gently. “He didn’t make it.”

  “What?” The small lump that had developed in my throat earlier as I thought of Amel, resurfaced; this time feeling like a melon blocking the entrance of my airway. “Dame--” I whispered, almost breathless.

  “I’m so sorry Octavia,” he said compassionately. “I thought they told you...”

  I covered my lips with one hand while shaking my head. “Noooo…” I sobbed loudly. “Whyyy!”

  “It’s okay, “Damon whispered.

  “What did I do wrong?” I whined; crying hysterically. “Why?” Damon eased down on the bed then stretched out next to me.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, pulling me into his arms. I lay with my head on his chest and tears falling freely from my eyes, saturating his t-shirt.

  “What happened?” I asked. I listened as Damon gave me the same explanation provided to him by the doctor and the things that transpired during the delivery. “I did this…” I said somberly. “The stress and the pressure...you told me...you told me to slow down! But I didn’t...I just kept going and going and…”

  “No,” Damon said firmly. “Listen to me...this was not your fault Octavia. Don’t you dare blame yourself. There was nothing you could do, so don’t think like that bae.”

  I heard his words, but I couldn’t help thinking that I could have done things differently. I should have rested more. I should have focused on our child rather than trying to be there for everyone else. I felt enormous guilt as I closed my eyes, allowing my sorrow and my tears to overflow. I cried until my eyes were swollen and the tears would no longer come.

  The on-call physician came to check my vitals then Damon assisted me into a wheelchair and pushed me to the hospital morgue. I sat in the wheelchair, with Damon standing behind me, while looking down at our son. I asked myself why I felt so detached from the baby I had wanted so badly just days earlier. I had never lost a child before, but one thing I was sure of was that even through death, a mother’s love flows fluently and vibrantly and the bond is undeniable. I, however, felt empty and shallow.

  “Let’s go,” I said to Damon. “I’ve seen enough.”

  Chapter 5

  Damon

  Having to break the news to Octavia about our son was one of the hardest things I had yet to do in my life. I hated seeing her in so much pain, pain that I wanted desperately to ease but I couldn’t. I wished a thousand times or more that I was capable of undoing what had taken place, but the reality of it all is that no matter how much money or how much power we possess, there are still some things that are out of our hands. I understood that, but it didn’t mean that I was not willing to fight with a
ll my might to help her get through her time of mourning. Octavia was cleared for release from the hospital seventy-two hours after she woke from the coma. And after multiple testing, I was happy to hear that there was no permanent physical damage to her body. The neurologist who came in to examine her advised us that Octavia’s brain functions and the patterns of the test showed no indication of disruption. It was as if my wife had never even had the stroke in the first place. The physicians stated she was lucky, I knew the truth was she was blessed and the epitome of a survivor.

  I knew Octavia’s emotional scarring was a different matter; however, I was willing to help, as best I could, her overcome and heal. During Octavia’s stay at the hospital, I remained by her bedside, only leaving to check in on Jasmine, who was in my in-law’s care, and to bury our son. I held back on burying our baby until Octavia recovered from her medical coma, because I felt it was only right to give her the opportunity to see him laid to rest. I was slightly surprised when she refused the offer.

  “Please just take care of it,” she said.

  I honored her request by having a graveside service for our child, whom I given the name the two of us had originally chosen in the event that she gave birth to a son; Josiah Savoy Whitmore. The service was held in Valhalla Memory Gardens; sadly it was the same graveyard where we laid Savoy and Shontay to rest. I took solace that someday, I would see each of them again and I hoped it would be that we all would celebrate in Paradise. Octavia requested that I pick up a few things from her office so that she could play catch up on what she’d been missing. I swung by the Ambiance 2 first, just so that I could commend the staff of the job they were doing, then I headed to the Ambiance. I’ll admit, I was impressed with the way Octavia’s crews at both her locations seem to work together like a well-oiled machine and how they appeared to be handling the loss of one of their own; Amel. Although, I had advised Tabitha and the other employees to call me if they experienced any problems or had any questions, I hadn’t received so much as a text. It was obvious that Octavia had prepared and trained them well.

  The tragedy that had taken place in front of the Ambiance had no visible effect on business. As usual the dining room was packed and the customers seemed oblivious to the chaos that had taken place almost a week before. I was beginning to think that all of the drama associated with my family was somewhat of an attraction for others. After the incident where Kenny and Donna were murdered at the Ambiance 2, I was certain that business would die before the restaurant even had a chance. But on the contrary, Octavia said her profits had exceeded her projected plans and all expectations. I nodded my head acknowledging the tall, red head standing behind the hostess booth before heading in the direction of the office. I could hear a female voice speaking loudly as I approached Octavia’s office door, and from the elevated tone and her choice of words, I knew that the conversation she was having was not a pleasant one. I tapped on the door then waited patiently.

  “One moment!” she said loudly. “I can’t believe this!” she blurted. “You can’t be serious. Where does that leave me? You’re asking for too much!” I felt slightly uncomfortable for eavesdropping on the conversation, but at the same time I was on a mission and business had to be handled. I knocked again.

  “I said give me a fucking moment!” she snapped. There was aggravation and anger in her voice. I turned the door handle, then pushed the door open. “Did you not hear what I just--” Tabitha immediately halted her rant when she saw that I was the one who had interrupted her. I hadn’t recognized her voice from outside, and to be honest, I was surprised that she was the one having an obvious temper tantrum on the phone. I hadn’t had a lot of interaction with Octavia’s employees, but the times I had come across Tabitha, she took me as mild and timid. The woman standing before me now appeared to be the exact opposite. She stood with one hand planted firmly on her hip and the other holding a cell phone to her ear. Her skin looked slightly pale as she stared at me with wide eyes.

  “Your moment is up,” I said firmly.

  “I have to go,” she said, speaking into the phone. She quickly pressed a button on her device then sat it down on the edge of the desk. “Damon...I’m sorry...I wasn’t expecting you.” She said. I watched as she tugged on the hem of the short suit jacket she was wearing then smoothed her hands down the front of the matching pants. “I’m sorry. How is Octavia?”

  “I’m actually on my way to pick her up. Her doctor finally gave the approval for her to come home.” I stepped inside the office and shut the door behind me.

  “That’s…that’s great,” she said, fidgeting with her nails. “We miss her around here…things haven’t been the same without her.” She gave me a slight smile.

  “I’m sure they haven’t,” I said.

  “Octavia is a great person. She’s easy to love and naturally her presence would be missed.”

  “That she is,” I agreed. I loved talking about my wife, but I also felt it necessary to address other issues with Tabitha at that moment like the phone call which clearly had her in disarray. “Is everything alright with you?” I questioned.

  “Everything is fine,” she said. “My boyfriend and I just had a fight; that’s all.” Tabitha looked at me then at the floor before looking at me again. “I’m embarrassed that you heard that.”

  “Every relationship has its moments,” I said. “But we have to learn how to separate business from personal...especially when we work for someone else.” It was clear that she was uncomfortable and so she should be. I appreciated the fact that she was handling the majority of the business in Octavia’s absence, but the truth was, she was getting paid to do so and along with her pay came certain expectations; such as leaving her personal issues—and it was clear she had some—at home. I had a major problem with the display of unprofessionalism I overheard before I opened the door. There is a time and place for everything; however, my wife’s office was not the place.

  “I want to first thank you for everything you’re doing,” I began. “I know the past few days have been difficult for everyone and you’ve stepped up, taking additional responsibilities and hours.”

  “They haven’t been that bad,” she said quickly. “And of course I did. We were short staffed, it’s my job to do so.”

  “You were not only short staffed,” I reminded her. “You lost one of your cohorts. Octavia’s told me how close knit the members of her teams are. ”

  “Amel will be missed,” she said, casually. “But I think we both know that life goes on. Death is something we all must face.”

  “This is true,” I said, slightly concerned by her nonchalant attitude.

  “I was in shock at first,” she continued, as if reading my mind, “but again, life and business must go on.”

  I nodded my head. “Speaking of business,” I said. “Before you discovered it was me at the door, you were using language that I deem inappropriate.” The confidence Tabitha displayed seconds earlier vanished. She once again looked worried. “I’m sure if Octavia was here she would also find your choice of words inappropriate. What if a customer was at the door instead of me? What if it was a vendor at the door looking to establish a business relationship with Octavia?” I waited for her response.

  “I thought it was one of the employees,” she said, nervously.

  “You didn’t think,” I declared. “If you had of thought, the two of us would not be having this conversation. The first step in being a great leader is knowing how and when to communicate.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right. It won’t happen again.”

  “I’m glad.” I said. “So, how’s business?”

  “Great,” she said. “The numbers look good for today, last I checked we were already at a little over three thousand.”

  “Not bad,” I said. “Not bad at all.”

  “I try,” she said with a smile. It was clear she was proud of what the restaurant had accomplished and I could understand why. I had Tabitha gather the reports Octavia ha
d requested then I prepared to leave.

  “Tabitha…one question,” I asked, stopping at the door.

  “What’s that?”

  “What happened the day Amel was killed?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I was in the dining room when I heard the commotion outside. When I came out I saw Amel had been hit and that’s when I spotted Octavia hunched over clutching her belly. I ran up to her and that’s when the doctor –”

  “Shayla,” I stated.

  “Yes, Shayla came up and told me she would further assist. After that, I just kinda freaked out. I sat in the bathroom hysterical.”

  “I see,” I said, observing her carefully. “Well, thank you.” I exited the office while thinking to myself that something about her just wasn’t right.

  *****

  I exited the interstate in the direction of my home while Octavia sat in the passenger seat relaxing against the soft leather and staring out the window. She wore a sleeveless yellow silk summer dress that stopped just above her knees and yellow sandals; her naturally curly hair pulled back in a simple, but classy ponytail. She wore no makeup and the truth is she didn’t need to; Octavia is a natural beauty that needed no additives.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked. She pulled her gaze from the window then turned to look at me.

  “Okay,” she said, smiling slightly. “Happy to be headed home.”

  “That makes two of us,” I said.

  “You didn’t have to stay with me,” she said softly. “I would have been fine.”

  “I did have to stay,” I said. I reached over then took her hand in mine while keeping my eyes on the road ahead. “There was nowhere I would have rather been.” I lifted the back of her hand to my lips then gave it a tender kiss. Octavia smiled then returned to looking out the window. The two of us rode in silence with or fingers intertwined.

  “How were things at the restaurants?” she asked.

  “Things were good,” I said honestly. “Marilyn is doing her thing at the Ambiance 2 and Tabitha seems to be maintaining at the Ambiance.”