I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew what I was about to do would add up to another notch against me, but I didn’t care. When I walked out that door, they could vote me out. Because when I signed up for the First Ladies Council, this wasn’t what I expected, nor was it what I wanted.

I was out!

*****

I’d waited a few minutes, but then, I really couldn’t take it anymore. No one seemed to even notice that I’d stood up. Or maybe it was just that no one cared.

“Yes,” Cecily said, “and from what I heard, he’s been sleeping at the church. Too scared to sleep at home ‘cause you know they’re from Forrest City, Arkansas, the same city where Al Green was born. And we all know what happened to Al Green.”

A bunch of affirmative hums rolled through the room at the same time that I rolled my eyes. Just as I scooted my chair away from the table, the door to the private conference room busted open and First Lady Rena Bradley stumbled inside.

The other ladies gasped, I froze. It was because of the way Rena looked: Eyes puffy, hair disheveled. And what was that she had on? Not that I was being critical of her wardrobe. It was just that the First Lady of Knotting Hill Missionary Baptist Church was a walking billboard for Vogue Magazine. From casual to chic to after-five, Andre Leon Talley should have had her on the payroll.

But today, she wore a cotton shift, the kind that my grandmother used to wear — when she was cleaning her house. Rena’s dress, her eyes, her hair...all together, it almost looked as if she’d been beaten.

I was already half-way standing, but now, every woman in the room joined me. With an agility that surprised me for a sixty-three-year-old woman, First Lady Sonya reached Rena first.

"Sweetie, are you okay?"

Before Rena could respond, Sonya had her arms around the woman. Rena, who was already rail-thin, looked so frail now as Sonya led her to the chair where she’d been sitting.

This had to be bad — Sonya never gave up her seat at the head of the table. As Rena settled in the chair, Sonya knelt next to her while the rest of us stared in disbelief.

Rena’s head was lowered, her eyes on the shriveled up Kleenex in her hand. She uttered her first words, “I’m okay.”

"No, you're obviously not," Sonya said. She smoothed her hand over Rena’s hair, pushing it away from her forehead. “What's going on, baby?"

Rena dabbed at her eyes and took a deep breath before she lifted her head. Her eyes scanned the room as if she was taking attendance. For a moment, her eyes settled on Cecily and I wanted to shout out ‘Don’t say a word’.

Before I could issue my warning, Cecily spoke up. “We’re family, baby. You can tell us anything because what we talk about here stays here.”