by Mz. Robinson
“Mine too,” I said. “Thank you Tabitha.”
“Not a problem,” Tabitha said. “We’ll have your entrée out in a minute.” She left the table leaving Shayla and I sitting alone.
“So, what form of medicine do you practice?” I asked, taking a sip of my coffee. I figured the least I could do was make small talk.
“Neurology,” she said.
“Do you work at Huntsville Hospital?”
“No, I have my own private practice,” she said. “In the Hughes Road Plaza in Madison.”
“And you drove to Huntsville for lunch?” I questioned. “You know we have a second location that’s closer to your office.”
“I know,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I was in town shopping.”
“A doctor who took the day off,” I said. “I never knew there was such a thing.”
Shayla laughed lightly. “There’s not,” she said. “I’m always on call, but I’m on vacation this week and one of my colleagues is filling in.”
“Do you have plans to go anywhere?”
“I’m going to a conference in Montreal in a month,” she said. “That will be vacation enough.”
“I hear it’s beautiful there,” I told her.
“It is,” she replied. “My husband...ex-husband as of last year...took me there for our one-year anniversary.”
“How long were you married before you divorced?” I questioned.
“Eighteen years,” she said, “We were together a total of twenty-two years. We were high school sweethearts.”
I couldn’t imagine putting eighteen years into my marriage only for it to fall apart. “Sorry to hear about that,” I said. “Eighteen years of marriage is good in this day and age.”
“Tell me about it,” she laughed. “I have a few regrets, but for the most part we parted ways with fond and loving memories.”
“That’s a good thing,” I said. “Do you ever talk or see each other?”
“No. Unfortunately not.” She continued to sip her coffee while I sipped mine.
“How long have you and Damon been together?” Shayla asked.
“Four years,” I said beaming proudly.
“Does the good outweigh the bad?” she asked. I paused only to consider all the joy Damon had brought into my life. It was true that the two of us had been through our share of pain and loss, but we had a plethora of beautiful memories to top it all off.
“Yes,” I said. “It does.”
“Then I wish you another fourteen years and then some,” Shayla said sweetly.
“Thank you.”
“So are you from Huntsville?” she asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “And yourself?”
“I’ve been here for six years now,” she said. “I’m originally from Chicago.”
There was a silence between the two of us until she finally said, “I know how you feel.”
“About what?” I asked curiously.
“I lost my own daughter a year ago.” She paused, took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. “She was killed by a drunk driver. She was only seventeen.”
I listened quietly as Shayla described her daughter Halle to me. Her eyes lit up as she told me a story about a beautiful, vibrant young woman, who someday wanted to be a doctor and heal the world.
“She was my life,” Shayla said. “After her death my marriage fell apart. Her father couldn’t deal with it and I was of no help to him, I was suffering from my own depression. I finally learned to cope, but it was too late for my marriage.”
“I’m sorry,” I said sympathetically.
“Don’t be,” she said. “Our time was up. I understand that now...God had something greater in the plan.” Shayla’s optimism was inspiring. I could tell that there was still pain associated with her memories, but she refused to let them weigh her down. “So, if and when you’re ready to talk...let me know.” She reached inside the handbag sitting on the seat next to her and handed me a business card. “I’m always on call,” she said, giving me a small smile.
“Thank you,” I said with sincerity.
*****
After finishing my coffee, I left Shayla to enjoy her meal. I was feeling slightly woozy and the light tapping of an oncoming headache, which I was positive, was partially attributed to the fact that I had skipped breakfast. I decided to pick up a bottle of Aleve and then run to the bank for change. I would grab a bite to eat when I returned to the restaurant. I stepped out into the sunlight with my handbag in one hand and my keys in the other. The wind blew lightly, while a patch of tinted grey clouds began to form over head; an indication of rain on the horizon. As I walked down the sidewalk leading from the restaurant to the employee parking lot, an unsettling feeling began to come over me as chills etched down my spine. My palms began to sweat as my heart rate slowly increased.
“Thank you for everything Octavia.” I heard a familiar voice say. I stopped then turned my head looking at the street. Amel stood in the middle of the street waving at me. “Thank you for everything Octavia.” she repeated. I closed my eyes tightly, then opened them again; only to see the tan SUV slamming into her body, tossing her in the air. In my mind, the moment Amel was struck by the car was on constant repeat, and I couldn’t get passed it nor press eject.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. I stepped backwards, backing up against the side of the building. I felt the edges of the hard bricks against my back as the cryptic sounds of a woman screaming pierced the air around me.
“Thank you for everything Octavia…Thank you for everything ...For everything...For everything…” Amel’s voice taunted me. My legs felt like cement as I walked from the side of the building, then ran; stumbling along the way to my car. I fumbled with my keys before finally pressing the open button on the starter.
“Thank you for everything Octavia…Thank you for everything ...For everything...For everything…For everything...” her voice continued to echo as I climbed into my car and slammed the door.
“Stop it!” I screamed, covering my ears. “Stop it!” I quickly jammed the key in the ignition, turned it to start, before turning the radio up as loud as it could go. I needed desperately to drown out the voice that was tormenting me; torturing me to no end. I can still hear her! I thought to myself. Why can I still hear her? I rocked back and forth in the driver’s seat of my vehicle as tears streamed down my face. The voice that had been plaguing me slowly began to fade as the sounds of the bass coming from my stereo speakers began to shake me. My hand shook nervously as I reached out and decreased the volume on the radio. The music slowly faded, but the pounding continued; for it wasn’t the bass coming from the speakers that I was now hearing, instead it was the beats of my heart.
“Boom. Boom.Boom. Boom. Boom.Boom.”
The sound of my heart pounding, echoed loudly in my ears. I dabbed at my forehead with the back of my hand, soaking up the tiny droplets of perspiration that covered my brow. I sat in my car, frozen in place, with my hands gripping the leather steering wheel tightly.
What’s happening to me? I asked myself. I had an unsettling feeling that I was being watched; a rush of paranoia fell over me and I began to feel that something terrible was lurking outside my car. My mouth felt like it was losing all moisture and became incredibly dry. I inhaled through my nose attempting to calm my distressed nerves and racing heart, but my airway felt like it was getting smaller with every second; like there was a vacuum in my lungs sucking out my breath. I leaned forward resting my head against the steering wheel.
Breathe Octavia, I recited to myself. Breathe.
It wasn’t working. There was a knock on the car window that sent me scrambling over the gear shift and against the passenger’s side door. Tabitha stood by the driver’s side window; staring at me.
“Are you okay?” she asked. I shook my head no as my tears combined with my sweat and stung my eyes.
She grabbed the door handle in an attempt to open the door. “Octavia it’s locked,” she said. “Unlock the door.”
I wanted to honor her request, but I was frozen in place. I was trapped, a prisoner in my own head, shackled by my own thoughts.
“Octavia,” she pleaded. “Please open the door!”
My struggle to breath continued as I pulled my knees up to my chest.
“I’ll be back!” Tabitha yelled, turning and then ultimately running towards the building. I placed my head in between my knees, trying desperately to calm my breathing.
“Octavia!” I slowly raised my head and saw Shayla standing next to Tabitha outside the window. “Octavia, it’s okay,” Shayla said. “Everything is fine...take a deep breath for me.”
I shook my head. I was trying, but my lungs wouldn’t allow it. I can’t, I thought. I can’t!
“Yes, you can,” Shayla stated as if she was reading my mind. “Yes, you can. Focus on your breathing…nothing else. Close your eyes Octavia.”
I closed my eyes.
“Focus only on the darkness and your breath. Feel the air filling your lungs and pushing through your airway.”
I did as Shayla ordered. I took a deep-cleansing breath, inhaling through my nostrils and finally exhaling through my parted lips. I repeated the steps until my heart rate slowly began to decrease. Thank you God, I thought.
“Octavia open the door,” Shayla ordered. “Open the door.”
My body continued to shake as I slowly turned in the seat then unlocked the car door.
Chapter 8
Damon
“Octavia!” I called, walking through the foyer of our home. “Babe!” I stepped up the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time as thoughts of worry and concern plagued my mind. Tabitha called me to let me know Octavia had an anxiety attack and that she was driving her home. I immediately left my office without a second thought. I knew I should have put up more of a fight when Octavia insisted she was okay. It was my responsibility to put my foot down; and now, just as I feared, something happened.
“Octavia!” I called from the top of the stairs. I rushed down the hall taking my jacket off as I approached our room.
“I’m in here,” she called from the bedroom. I entered the room tossing my jacket on the dresser. Octavia lay barefoot on top of the comforter curled up clutching a pillow to her chest.
“Baby,” I said, rushing to the side of the bed.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. I eased down, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Tabitha called me,” I told her.
“I don’t know what happened,” she mumbled. “I was fine, but then I came out...I was leaving to go to the bank and I could hear her.”
“Hear who?” I asked, rubbing her back.
“Amel,” she said. “Her voice just kept calling out to me and then I kept visualizing her getting struck by that car...”
I listened carefully as Octavia gave me the details that led to her panic attack. Her voice was on a childlike tone that alarmed me. I brushed it off, assuming she was still on edge from her attack.
“Once my breathing slowed, I opened the door,” she continued. “I was too embarrassed to go back into the restaurant, so Tabitha volunteered to bring me home; but to keep the other employees from knowing something was wrong, I just drove myself home instead.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” I reassured her. “You lived through more than most have ever seen. That’s a lot to deal with boo.”
“Clearly I’m not dealing,” she said, pulling herself up on the bed. She reclined against the headboard and looked at me. “I can’t believe I went off like that.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” I said. “Maybe it’s just too soon to return to work and the reminder of what took place there.”
“Or maybe I’m just too weak to handle it,” she debated.
“You are a lot of things,” I said cutting her off. “But weak isn’t one of them.”
“That’s how I felt,” she said looking away. “Weak and lost. I couldn’t get it together…”
I couldn’t change the way Octavia was feeling, but I wanted, no, I needed her to believe that everything was going to be okay.
“We are going to get through this,” I promised. “Together. No matter what it takes.” She wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her breast against my chest.
“I love you Damon,” she whispered. I secured my arms tightly around her waist, holding her tightly.
“I love you more,” I said, pressing my lips against her neck.
“Maybe what I need is a nice hot bath,” she said, pulling away. She ran her fingers through her hair then exhaled softy. “Maybe it’ll help clear my head.”
“I’m on it,” I said. I helped her remove her clothes until she was wearing nothing but her beautiful brown skin. I scanned my eyes over her naked body, admiring the cut and lift of her full breasts, the tightness of her chocolate nipples, the small pudge she still carried around her stomach, and the faint discolored stretch marks that now graced her hips. Even with the extra pounds she gained while carrying our son, my wife was one of the sexiest women I had ever seen.
I tucked her underneath the covers to allow me time to run her bath water. I lit Octavia’s favorite vanilla scented candles then placed them around the Jacuzzi tub in our master bathroom. I wanted my wife to unwind and relax her body and I was hoping that she would be able to ease her troubled mind.
“You are too good to me,” she sighed, while I assisted her into the tub.
“Not good enough,” I commented. She settled in the bubble-filled water then reclined.
“I owe you dinner,” she said.
“I have dinner under control,” I said, standing next to the bathtub. “We can order in. Your choice.”
“I can call Grille 29 and order us something,” she suggested, stroking her arms. “You can pick it up when you go get Jazz from daycare.”
“I was planning to ask Charles to pick her up,” I advised her. Octavia’s eyes grew wide. It was my desire to have my father in law pick up Jasmine because I didn’t want to leave Octavia alone; not even for a second.
“Please don’t,” she begged. “Mama will know something is wrong. I don’t want to worry her. She is doing so well right now, and I’ve worried her enough. Please Damon, let’s just keep this between the two of us.”
Charlene was so resilient that at times I forgot that it was not too long ago that she had battled with cancer. The cancer was now in remission and she seemed stronger than ever, but I knew part of maintaining her health was also dependent upon keeping her stress at a minimum. I bent down to my knees by the edge of the tub. I observed the look in my love’s eyes while pondering her request. She looked a hundred percent better than she had when I first arrived home.
“Okay,” I finally agreed.
*****
I picked up my daughter from daycare then drove to Grille 29 to pick up the order Octavia called in for the three of us. The savory aroma rising from the styrofoam carry-out plates I carried in the bag in my hand made my stomach grumble, to the point that it felt like it was going to beat a path through my back. I had no clue what Octavia ordered for the two of us, but whatever it was, it smelled good as hell and I was anxiously awaiting digging into it. I held my daughter’s hand with one hand while carrying the bag in the other as Jasmine and I walked toward the front door of the restaurant. We were almost at the exit when a familiar face stepped inside the restaurant door. I smiled while observing the tall woman with brown skin and sepia-colored eyes.
“Tamara?” I said, stopping.
“D!” she cheered. “How are you?” I dropped Jasmine’s hand just long enough to hug Savoy’s sister, then I took my daughter’s hand again. Tamara was a year older than Savoy and one of four girls in the Breedwell family.
“I’m good,” I said. “How are you?”
“I’m okay,” she said. Her full cheeks spread as her lips formed a smiled. “Hey little mama!” Jasmine looked from Tamara to me then to Tamara again but never replied. I didn’t know if that was du
e to the continuous lessons from her parents that said, “Do not talk to strangers” or if she was going to have an instant dislike of the Breedwell women much like her mother.
Octavia’s distaste for Tamara, her mother, and her sisters was solely based of the way they reacted when Savoy chose to marry Shontay. When it came to her best friend, Octavia had a strict policy of loyalty and there was no questioning nor going around it. It was simple, if you didn’t love Shontay, you didn’t love Octavia.
“It’s okay,” Tamara said, through clenched teeth. “I can see the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. She is just like her mother,” she said nicely. “And just as beautiful.”
“She is,” I agreed. “And I’m sure both will come around someday.” I wasn’t willing to put money on that, but I was still encouraging Tamara to remain optimistic.
“So, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“I live here now.”
“What? Since when?”
“Yep, I’ve been here for a little over three weeks now,” she said.
“So you and Stan finally decided to leave Georgia?” Stan was Tamara’s husband. The two of them had been married for several years and operated an interior design company together. I’d been around Stan a couple of times and from what I could gather, he seemed like a decent man and Savoy never spoke against him.
“No, me. Not me and Stan,” she said. “I made the decision..alot of things have changed in the last year.”
I could tell there was a lot more Tamara wanted to share with me, but Jasmine, who was now tugging on my hand, reminded me that it was time for us to go.
“Tamara, I have got to get this food home,” I said quickly. “Do you still have my number?”
“I think so,” she said. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out one of my business cards and handed it to her.
“It was good seeing you,” she said. “I’ll give you call.”
“Take care.” I told her before leaving the restaurant.
Chapter 9
Octavia
The next day it took every breath in my body to convince Damon that I was okay and that I would be perfectly fine at home alone; but I’m sure it took more out of him to convince me to stay at home. I felt my panic attack was nothing more than a fluke; a consequence of not properly eating and just being mentally exhausted. Damon felt I needed more time to recuperate from the physical trauma I had been through. I decided not to argue with him and to grant his wish of taking it easy for a little while longer. Tabitha seemed perfectly fine working double shifts, and despite or minor run in, I knew she was a good and hardworking employee.