Sisterhood

Elizabeth and Julia were in the living room of the guest house, meditating. Two cups of finished hot tea sat on the table in front of them, mostly consumed. Julia was almost back to how she was, healthier, her skin with more of a glow, her skin smooth and a hint of her old smile back. Elizabeth was three months along now with her latest child by Yusuuf -- a daughter. They were over the moon.

"I envy you," Julia said, finally. "I envied what you and Douglas had, the material things. And when I was with Douglas, I envied the physical pleasures that you got. And I tried Black men, but I tried the wrong one. And now, looking at you, you're at peace, you've got the perfect man ... and I still just envy."

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said, honestly. "Douglas isn't a terrible man, but he's self-destructive. I never saw that in the early stages of our marriage, but it was a facade. He was willing to keep things going not for us, not for me ... but just for his own sake. And when his darker natures consumed him ... he destroyed our marriage." She stretched out her legs, rubbing her belly, always conscious of the life growing within her.

"And yeah, some Black men are immature, and some care just about getting some. I've found Black men like Yusuuf ... that have a faith they are committed too, that have a strict sense of morality and where a woman's place is in the household and where a man's place is in society ... I've found that meshes best with what I need, as a Southern wife. It felt in the beginning as if it would clash. But really, it's what I needed."

Elizabeth refilled their teas, and they shifted their discussions to the inconsequential, Julia still focused on the consequential.