Aftermath

by Tracy Brown

  “We started having sex.”

  Dominique didn’t bother to hide her disappointment. She looked at Octavia, with her baby face and braces, her innocent eyes brimming with tears. This baby girl was having sex already. Dominique shook her head in disappointment.

  “And now I’m pregnant.”

  Dominique was silent then. She didn’t move, didn’t even seem to breathe. Everything in the room seemed to freeze and she wondered if she’d heard her daughter correctly.

  Octavia had begun to cry. “I don’t know what to do … because I told Dashawn about it.”

  “Dashawn?” Dominique was frowning.

  Octavia nodded. “That’s my boyfriend.”

  Toya looked at Dominique and noticed her right eye was twitching.

  “He’s a good person, Ma.” Octavia was speaking more confidently now. “And he said that he would take care of me if anything like this ever happened.”

  That was when Dominique lost it. She lunged at her daughter, and Toya caught her in midair, toppling her onto the ottoman. Octavia had sense enough to get out of the way then. She ran toward the front door and Holly’s mother blocked her exit.

  “Don’t do this here, Dominique!” Toya hissed at her friend. “I know you want to kill her. I do, too.”

  That didn’t make Octavia feel any better. She moved toward the door again, but Rebecca blocked her once more.

  Toya continued to restrain Dominique. “But that’s not gonna solve anything. Think about Misa.”

  Holly, Rebecca, and Octavia all frowned, not knowing what Toya was referring to. But Dominique understood. She didn’t want to end up in jail like her friend had. She stopped trying to wriggle free and closed her eyes in dismay.

  “I don’t mean to butt into your business,” Rebecca said. She looked at young, pretty, naive Octavia. “But I can’t let you keep running. Your mother is here. She loves you, and that’s why she’s angry. This boy is not your boyfriend, Octavia.” Rebecca sighed and looked at Dominique. “Mrs. Storms, he told her that he loved her,” Rebecca explained. She turned her attention back to Octavia. “But that is not love at all, sweetheart. You told me that when you gave him the news of your pregnancy, he let you stay with him for a few days until his mother found out. And then they kicked you out. Just threw you out in the street with no place to go. That’s not love, Octavia.”

  Dominique hated another person having to school her child on what was so obvious. Toya wasn’t feeling the vibe in the room, either. She looked at Rebecca. “Is there some place where Dominique and I can talk alone?” Toya glanced at Octavia.

  Rebecca quickly sprung into action. “This way,” she said, gesturing toward her kitchen. Toya took Dominique by the hand and led her in there. Once they were inside and Toya felt certain that no one could hear their private conversation, she spoke to her friend in a hushed tone.

  “You can’t attack her right now, even though I know you want to,” she said. “Shit, I want to kick her ass myself. But for one thing, she says she’s pregnant.”

  Dominique squeezed her eyes shut hearing her friend say that. She opened them again and looked at Toya with tears in her eyes.

  Toya felt so sorry for her friend who had already endured so much. Octavia’s pregnancy was only the latest misfortune in Dominique’s life. “For another thing, this ain’t Big Mama’s house from back in the days. You can’t kick her ass in here without going to jail. Pull yourself together and help me convince Octavia to come home. She only called you to meet her here in order to protect herself. So make her feel safe, bitch. Then when you get her home, you give her the third degree.”

  Dominique fought back tears. “How could she be so stupid, Toya? Did you hear her in there? Did you hear how pathetic she sounded?”

  “That was you once, Dominique.”

  Toya hadn’t meant to hurt her friend’s feelings, but the expression on Dominique’s face said she had done just that.

  “I’m not trying to put you down, but you have to see things clearly. She doesn’t need you to beat up on her right now. She needs a hug, and some motherly talk, and a reality check. Right now you have a lot on your mind. You’ve been worried sick about her for a whole week, and you’re still dealing with losing your father.” She took Dominique by the hand. “Let’s just be happy that she’s okay.”

  Dominique managed a faint smile, nodded, and took Toya’s advice. She put her game face on and went back out into the living room. She hugged Octavia, told her that she loved her and that she was going to help her figure out the right thing to do. She reminded her that she, too, had been a teen parent and assured her that she wouldn’t bug out. Holly and Rebecca were happy, feeling that they’d done the right thing. The only person who remained unconvinced by Dominique’s Oscar-worthy performance was Octavia.

  Octavia looked at her mother and knew that this was far from over. She knew that when they went home, a million questions would be asked and what happened here at Holly’s house was only the tip of the iceberg.

  Still, Octavia had to hand it to her mother. She seemed awfully calm and far less tightly wound than usual. There was almost a smile behind her eyes as she assured Octavia that everything was going to be all right.

  Dominique was actually devastated. She hadn’t wanted her daughter to repeat the mistakes she’d made. She also blamed herself for Octavia’s pregnancy, in part because of her preoccupation with Jamel and with her career and even with her father’s death over the past few months. She had the weight of the world on her shoulders. But the way that Archie had soothed her just a few short hours ago helped her keep her sanity. It wasn’t just the sex, it was the intimacy she had experienced for the first time in years. Archie had awakened her senses. As Holly and Rebecca smiled and reminded them that they were available to talk if Octavia ever needed them, Dominique flashed back to the scissor position Archie had twisted her into and had to suppress a smile. Toya noticed, but figured Dominique was just slowly losing her mind.

  They left Holly’s house and Dominique led the way to her car in silence. Toya took the opportunity to pull Octavia to the side.

  “Whatever you do, don’t ever run away again.” Toya’s face was serious as she spoke and she gripped Octavia’s hand tightly. “Your mother was worried sick about you and so was everybody else. She just buried her father—your grandfather. And she’s doing the best she can to be a good mother to you, Octavia. Don’t send her over the edge by running away again. You wanted to act grown and have a boyfriend when you weren’t supposed to and have sex before you were ready.” Toya shook her head as if those were the dumbest things in the world. “So now you have to face the consequences like a grown-up and stop running away from your problems. Sit with your mother. Talk to her. And I’ll come over in a few hours to make sure she hasn’t killed you.”

  They got to Dominique’s car and Toya ushered the little girl inside. She turned to Dominique and sighed.

  Dominique shrugged. “I’ll probably never be able to repay you for everything you’ve done for me, Toya. Thank you so much.”

  Toya waved her hand as if to stop her friend from gushing about it. She wasn’t comfortable with emotional outpourings. “Girl, please! That’s what friends are for.” She hugged Dominique and patted her reassuringly on the back. Looking her friend in the eye, she summed up her case. “Don’t hit her, no matter how much you may want to. She’s scared to death, and what she did was dumb. But she’s safe. And she wasn’t out there being hurt or God knows what. Just listen to her, talk to her. And I’ll come over later and we’ll all figure out what to do about her situation.”

  Dominique smiled. “Okay.”

  Toya frowned slightly as she watched her friend climb into her car and buckle her seat belt. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think Dominique seemed more relaxed than usual. Toya chalked it up to her relief over having finally found her daughter. She yawned, eager to get back to her bed, and walked off toward her car as Dominique honked and pulled away from the curb. Oc
tavia looked out the window as her mother drove her back to their Manhattan apartment in silence.

  Regrets

  “What are you doing here?” Gillian stood with her front door cracked, her body blocking her uninvited guest from gaining entry to her home.

  “I just want to talk to you,” Saadiq explained. He had been dating Gillian for more than a year. But after her father’s death she had cut him off, ignoring his repeated phone calls, text messages, and e-mails. It was clear that their relationship was over as far as she was concerned, but he just wanted an explanation.

  “Talk about what?” Gillian looked aloof, standing there with her arms folded across her chest and a scowl on her face.

  “What happened with us?” Saadiq asked. “I mean the last time I saw you was at your parents’ anniversary party. I left that night and I knew you were upset, but I didn’t think it was that serious. I picked up the paper the next day and read about what happened to your father and your brother. So, I called you, I came by here, and I couldn’t find you anywhere. Then I saw that his funeral had taken place and I’ve been trying to get in touch with you ever since.”

  Gillian shrugged. “It’s over,” she said matter-of-factly. “Everything is different now.”

  “Different how?” Saadiq asked, frowning.

  “I’m with Frankie now,” Gillian explained.

  Saadiq stared at her, his temper flaring by the second. “Frankie?”

  Gillian nodded and watched the wheels turning in Saadiq’s head.

  “So all that time you were swearing that you two were just friends…”

  “We were,” she said. “But losing my father brought us closer.”

  “And now you’re with him?” Saadiq’s voice dripped with hurt and anger.

  Gillian nodded again. “I love him.”

  “You don’t love him.”

  “I don’t love you.” Gillian didn’t blink as she said it. “And I would appreciate it if you could leave me alone and let me be happy.”

  Saadiq wanted to knock her lights out. “You’re a cold bitch, you know that?”

  Gillian smirked. She didn’t care what he thought of her. She had bigger concerns right now. Saadiq could kiss her ass. She stepped back inside her house and shut the door in his face, then watched as he pathetically retreated down her stairs with his tail between his legs.

  Turning on her heel, she walked back into the living room and sat down once more on the sofa across from her guest.

  Biggs sat stone-faced before Gillian, but he was actually feeling quite anxious. Gillian was asking him to do a very serious thing.

  “So,” she said, picking up where she left off. “Can you handle that for me?”

  “You want me to kill Jojo?” Biggs confirmed.

  She nodded, crossed her legs, and looked him dead in the eyes.

  Biggs cleared his throat. “Does Frankie know about this?”

  Gillian frowned slightly, annoyed that Biggs seemed to be questioning her authority. “No. He’s got other things on his mind these days,” she said. It was true that Frankie had been understandably sidetracked by the tragedy in his family. But Gillian was still thirsty for the taste of Jojo’s blood. She wanted desperately to avenge her father’s murder so that she could find some peace at last.

  Biggs watched Gillian’s facial expression vacillate between irritation and control. “And, for the record, I’m in charge of this family now,” she said, her perfectly glossed lips tightly pursed.

  Biggs stared back at her, listening to her assert her power. For a moment, he thought about calling Frankie and clearing it with him, just to be on the safe side. After all, Gillian was new to the powerful position she now occupied. He understood her bloodlust, but he wondered if she was being a little hasty. Looking at her now, he could see that she was serious.

  “You thought this out all the way?” he asked.

  She nodded once again. “All the way.”

  Biggs nodded finally and licked his lips. Leaning forward in his seat, he clasped his hands together. “I’ll make it happen.”

  * * *

  Jojo stumbled out of the bar and toward his car. The crowd at Lucky Lefty’s bar in the Bronx had been a smattering of familiar faces from his days growing up in the Boogie Down borough. It was his birthday weekend, and he had been celebrating hard all night. In fact, his birthday hadn’t been the only thing he’d been celebrating. His beef with the Nobles family was over. The war had been won, Jojo believed, once he and his goons had killed Doug Nobles and critically wounded Baron. With news of Frankie’s brother’s recent death at the hands of his own sister-in-law, Jojo was celebrating what he deemed to be the demise of his rival crew.

  He climbed behind the wheel of his Benz, although he knew that he had no business driving as drunk as he was. He waved at his boy Day-Day as he pulled out of the lot, and then headed toward the FDR. He stayed to the right, opting for the slowest lane of traffic in his inebriated state. So he was a little befuddled when he saw flashing lights in his rearview mirror and realized that he was being pulled over.

  Reluctantly, Jojo pulled over to the shoulder and stopped his car. The unmarked vehicle with the flashing lights pulled up behind him and Jojo dug in his pocket for his wallet. He looked in the mirror to see if his eyes were red as he retrieved his license. He watched the tall officer clad in all black approaching his car and popped a mint in his mouth to cover up the smell of tequila. Next, he reached into glove compartment for his registration. Sitting upright with his paperwork in hand, he lowered the power window on the driver’s side just as the individual who had pulled him over approached. Glancing up, Jojo came eye-to-eye with Biggs.

  He recognized Frankie’s henchman immediately. Instinctively, he tried to reach under his seat for his gun, but it was too late. Biggs shot Jojo three times in the face, the silencer on his .45 caliber avoiding the detection of the passing motorists. Calmly, he walked back to his truck with the smoking gun concealed at his side. He climbed inside, tucked away the phony police siren, and drove off.

  * * *

  Her eyes were downcast as she spoke, her voice low and her hands intertwined.

  “I met him on the six train. He struck up a conversation with me and I thought he was cute.”

  Octavia had showered and was feeling cozy, so glad to be back at home in her pajamas. She had twisted her shoulder-length hair into a single braid and was perched on the living room chaise, her knees pulled close to her chest. She looked more like a child than ever, Dominique thought. Seated in the recliner across from her daughter, she listened silently as Octavia told her the story of how her misfortune began.

  Octavia was relieved that her mother was calmly listening to her. It made it easier to be honest as she told the story of the torment she’d been dealing with alone for so long. She wondered what Toya had said to her mother to calm her down enough that she could listen so raptly. Whatever it was, she was glad as she continued.

  “We exchanged cell phone numbers and he would call me. Granddad was going to dialysis three days a week and I was supposed to be in dance class those days. At first, I just missed one day, then the next week I missed two. If the dance teacher called, I would delete the messages. He wanted to take me out to the movies and I knew you would never go for it. So I snuck and did it anyway.” Her tone was flat and she finally made eye contact with her mother.

  “That’s interesting,” Dominique said, her gaze locked on her daughter. “Obviously, you knew better than I did.”

  Octavia didn’t know how to respond to that. She proceeded with her story instead. “Yeah, so I was skipping dance class and meeting him. We would go to get pizza or just sit in the park, a couple times we went to an arcade or to a movie. But then he invited me to his house instead.”

  “His house … where exactly is his house and who does he live with?”

  “He lives in Harlem River Houses.”

  Dominique closed her eyes, shook her head. Here she was busting her ass to afford a
luxury condo, a private school for her child, and all the perks of good living. And all the while, Octavia had been up in a project apartment getting fucked by some hoodlum named Dashawn.

  “His mother just got custody of him again.”

  Dominique rubbed her temples.

  “She was on drugs, but she’s clean now.” Octavia thought back to how Dashawn’s mother had treated her during her week on the run. She hadn’t held any punches when she told Octavia what ordeals awaited her if she chose to keep her unborn child. “She’s kind of like … tough all the time. Not mean, but just tough. Anyway, when she wasn’t home I would go over there with him and we would…”

  “Have sex,” Dominique filled in the blank. “Continue.”

  “Yeah.” Octavia shifted a little in her seat. She hadn’t had many conversations with her mother about sex. Having one now, as she sat pregnant before her at the age of fourteen, felt awkward. “We used condoms most of the time. But sometimes we didn’t. I would tell him to use one, but he would say he didn’t need to, that I could trust him.” She wiped a tear that fell from her eye.

  Dominique felt like kicking this bastard’s ass. “Did he force you, Octavia?” she asked, through clenched teeth. “Did he make you do it?”

  Octavia shook her head. “No. He didn’t force me. But I told him that I was scared to get pregnant and he swore that I wouldn’t. And he said that if I did, he would take care of me. So I didn’t think about it.”

  “How often were you having sex with him?” Dominique looked at her daughter and knew that she didn’t really want to know the answer to that question. She prayed that Octavia hadn’t contracted any diseases having unprotected sex with this idiot.

  “I don’t know.” Octavia shrugged. “A few times.”

  Dominique swallowed hard, clenched her fists involuntarily.

  “And then right around the time when Granddad got sick, I realized that I wasn’t getting my period. I got scared and I didn’t know how to tell you.” Octavia glanced sheepishly at her mother. “There was so much going on, and you were already upset about Granddad.”