Seven Days in June

by Tia Williams

“No matter how perilous the journey, it’s never over for true soul mates. Who doesn’t want a connection that burns forever, despite distance, time, and curses?”

She’d never been able to think clearly with jeans on, so she wriggled out of them.

me asf

When it came to mothering, what mattered to her was setting a powerful example. When Audre audited her memories, Eva wanted her to remember a ballsy woman who invented her life from scratch. No man, no help, no problem.

And I remember that I’m not lonely. I’m alone. When I’m comatose from writing and mothering, when I’m hurting too badly to cook, talk, or smile, I curl up with ‘alone’ like a security blanket. Alone doesn’t care that I don’t shave my legs in the winter. Alone never gets disappointed by me.” Eva sighed. “It’s the best relationship I’ve ever been in.”

“Know why I have nice skin?” Eva winked. “No man stressing me out.”

Girls are given the weight of the world, but nowhere to put it down.

“It’s like you know something dramatic happened. But you don’t know your insides have been ripped open until after the fact. That’s what falling in love is like. When it’s real, you don’t fall in love with any awareness. You don’t get a say. You get hit fucking hard and then process it later. You know?”

“Do you ever think of me?” Lightly, he ran his tongue along her neck, up to her ear, nibbling on her lobe. “I never learned how to stop.”

She was many things (some might argue too many), but there was only one thing that kept her pulse racing, her complexion glowing, and her juices flowing. It was being a connector of dots.

But she’d never wanted kids. Books were her kids. They cuddled up with her at night, kept her warm, quieted her thoughts when her marriage seemed thin, her life choices felt pointless, or her job seemed stagnant.

At brunch, Belinda had asked if she’d ever felt wild, deep love. What Cece didn’t know how to say was that she didn’t need it. She was happy not to feel anything super deeply.

He wanted to watch her do things, say things. Hold her hand, make her laugh. Fuck her senseless. Give her everything she hadn’t had in so long. Give her the best of him.

She linked her arms around her daughter’s waist and gave her hand three squeezes, their secret I love you code. Audre squeezed back and relaxed a little.

me & my mom do this too :')

Shane, I’m gonna steal her for a sec.” “Do you have to?” He grimaced. “I’m too socially awkward to be left to my own devices. What do I do?”

“Religion. Hmm. I guess it’s like fire. In good hands, fire can be used to do positive things, like keep you warm. Make s’mores. In bad hands, it can burn a witch at the stake. Lynch a Black body.” He shrugged. “When used for good, religion’s cool.”

Over the years, Eva had trained herself not to expect anything from anyone, especially men. To not even ask or want.

“A tree grows its branches out until it touches the tips of the next closest tree. And they’re linked forever. Because if they’re really close, their roots grow together. They’re so intertwined underneath that no matter what happens above ground, they stay connected.”

“The forest is filled with undomesticated wildlife out there living happy, peaceful lives. How dare we assume that we’re welcome in their home? It’s like if a bear broke into our apartment like, ‘It’d be a fun experience to live here for a week.’”

Eva’s ring wasn’t some suitor’s gift to her mom. It had been passed down for generations, infused with the love, fury, and passion of these women. Her women. Her people. And their stories, like the ring, were now hers.

Note to self: find a ring that can be passed down to the future daughters of my bloodline