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“With you and that hat, maybe.” I winked and she rolled her eyes again. “Did you eat?”
“Breakfast before I left your house. There was a full spread in the kitchen and a very pushy chef who shoved food onto my plate.”
I grinned. “That was Cress’s doing. Diet is important for her and Elias. Everyone else benefits by default but they’ll make whatever you want. Just ask.”
“I’m fine with what was there. It’s not my place to change things.”
She could change whatever the fuck she wanted but I decided not to push. “I left early so I missed breakfast and I’ve had meetings all morning. How about we grab something now? So you can stay out of their way for a few hours.”
“I’m well aware of when you left…” Eyes narrowed, likely because I left shortly after fucking her in the bed we slept in—and the shower—so I could get ready for the day. She climbed back in bed to get a few more hours of sleep and I left wishing I could cancel my day and join her.
“Come on.” I extended a hand. Without argument she followed me to my car. We headed to N’awlins, my favorite creole restaurant, got a table, and ordered more food than either of us needed. We both enjoyed a comfortable silence devouring our meals until Jhorie randomly shifted things to business.
“We need a grant writer?”
“We have one. Several actually.”
“Oh…” She wiped her mouth and nodded.
“I’ll forward you their information. What were you needing one for?”
“Healthcare. I know you have clinics as a part of your overall plans but most of those families can barely afford to be treated and the ones that can handle preventive care can’t afford major treatments.”
“I’m well aware. That was one of the non-negotiables Samiya requested. A lot of the women BWB supports have had personal experiences with issues contributed to lack of or poor healthcare. Not having our own doctors specializing in treating women of color often leads to unavoidable issues that could have been discovered and handled early or properly. We already have approval for several grants that will pay salaries for qualified physicians of color as well as funding for those who can’t afford to foot the bill for their own healthcare.”
She stared at me for a long moment then smiled. “Seems like the two of you thought of everything.”
“Not everything and we don’t have it all figured out. I will say we’re doing as much as we can with the resources we have while we navigate how to gain more funding and support. If we can’t get it other ways, I’ll pay out of pocket as much as I can.”
“You’ll spend your own money.”
“I will.”
Her brows furrowed like she was deep in thought. “Why is this so important to you?”
“Because my privilege does not make me blind to the issues currently existing. If anything it makes me more aware.”
“You maybe, but not most.”
“I’m not most people, Jhorie.”
She smiled softly. “No, you’re not. The more I’m around you the more I realize just how true that statement is.”
“Good, but I’d like to know why this is so important to you, specifically the healthcare part. You’ve mentioned healthcare being a priority a few times.”
“Both my parents worked at the docks. My mother cleaned offices and my father unloaded trucks and containers. They both made decent money, but healthcare wasn’t offered. Because they made decent money according to the state, they didn’t qualify for government assistance. What was considered decent enough to deny them was barely enough to make a good living. We did okay, but there were things that just weren’t possible. I’m not complaining because I had a good life. My dad had terrible habits. He worked hard but didn’t take care of himself. He died of a heart attack which could have been prevented. My mom wasn’t much different. She had high blood pressure that was treated but the medication they gave her was sort of a one size fits all.”
“That doesn’t exist when it comes to medicine.”
She nodded. “Exactly. The doctors and clinics she could afford were more or less a medical assembly line. They diagnosed and prescribed what was affordable, not what was specific to each person's individual health needs. If they had more options and better doctors, they’d both still be here.”
I considered my own situation. My father had cancer, which was diagnosed early and treated with the best care available. Unfortunately his was so aggressive that he only survived six months after being diagnosed. Even Elias had top notch doctors and care, mostly because my mother would have paid anything asked to fix Elias. In her eyes he was broken but she was just a fucked up individual who refused to love her child the way he deserved. Regardless, money meant optimal care.
“I’m sorry for your loss and that things weren’t different for them.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. You’re doing your part to make it different for the families that come after mine.”
“You lost both your parents.”
