So Much For the Afterglow
“I prayed last night.”
Katara paused, hands still on the cutting board, and turned toward her sister-in-law with a politely inquiring look on her face. Suki was standing next to her, hands resting on the edge of the washbasin, fingers dabbling in the water, eyes unfocused, and Katara could sense the weight in her words. Something was wrong.
“I never knew you were so spiritual,” she replied lightly, trying to ease the sudden tension she could see forming in Suki’s shoulders.
Suki smiled sadly, and said, “I’m not,” her gaze sharpening as she grabbed another eggplant out of the sink and patted it dry before handing it to Katara, suddenly trying to make light of her serious declaration. “It just… It seems so silly when I think about it in the daylight. I don’t even know why I said anything.”
“Well,” Katara breathed, tilting her head this way and that as she got back to work, “that begs the question, doesn’t it?”
Suki paused, though it was really more of a sudden, jolting stop, and when she began to move again the tension in her body was more pronounced.
“What did you pray for?” Katara coaxed, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the cutting board.
Suki drew a deep breath, let it out, and chewed on the inside of her lip for a few long moments as she searched for words. When she finally opened her mouth to reply, a loud, echoing crash resounded through the room, followed by five voices of varying depth, all chorusing the same three words: “It wasn’t me!”
Suki sighed, wiped her hands on a dishcloth, and turned to march into the living area, where the ruckus was occurring, shouting, “What are you boys doing in there?!”
Sokka yelled back, “Nothing! We’re fine! It’s fine! I can fix it!”
Suki sighed again, looked back over her shoulder at Katara, and said, “I prayed for a daughter.”
Katara paused, hands still on the cutting board, and turned toward her sister-in-law with a politely inquiring look on her face. Suki was standing next to her, hands resting on the edge of the washbasin, fingers dabbling in the water, eyes unfocused, and Katara could sense the weight in her words. Something was wrong.
“I never knew you were so spiritual,” she replied lightly, trying to ease the sudden tension she could see forming in Suki’s shoulders.
Suki smiled sadly, and said, “I’m not,” her gaze sharpening as she grabbed another eggplant out of the sink and patted it dry before handing it to Katara, suddenly trying to make light of her serious declaration. “It just… It seems so silly when I think about it in the daylight. I don’t even know why I said anything.”
“Well,” Katara breathed, tilting her head this way and that as she got back to work, “that begs the question, doesn’t it?”
Suki paused, though it was really more of a sudden, jolting stop, and when she began to move again the tension in her body was more pronounced.
“What did you pray for?” Katara coaxed, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the cutting board.
Suki drew a deep breath, let it out, and chewed on the inside of her lip for a few long moments as she searched for words. When she finally opened her mouth to reply, a loud, echoing crash resounded through the room, followed by five voices of varying depth, all chorusing the same three words: “It wasn’t me!”
Suki sighed, wiped her hands on a dishcloth, and turned to march into the living area, where the ruckus was occurring, shouting, “What are you boys doing in there?!”
Sokka yelled back, “Nothing! We’re fine! It’s fine! I can fix it!”
Suki sighed again, looked back over her shoulder at Katara, and said, “I prayed for a daughter.”