She walked into the kitchen, trying to decide if there was anything she wanted to take from there.  Startled, she almost dropped her armload of clothes when she saw the figure seated at the dining room table.  It was obviously Bette, dressed in sweats and a tank top, sleeping with her head resting on her arm on the table.

“What was Bette doing at home in the middle of the afternoon?”  Tina thought to herself.  She had purposely chosen that time to pick up some of her things, so that she could avoid confronting her ex-lover.  She silently skirted around Bette’s chair, taking a good look at her face, resting with her left cheek pillowed by her left arm.  On her nose, her cheek, and her chin, were smears of different colors.  On her outstretched right hand, there was charcoal smudges on her thumb and index finger as well as colorful streaks of paint across the back of her hand and wrist.  Stifling a laugh, Tina looked around.  It was rare to see the normally impeccably dressed Bette Porter looking so ridiculously…bohemian, with all the paint splattered about her.

Walking toward the easel propped up by the sliding glass doors, she had to suppress a gasp.  Bette had shown her some of paintings she’d done in college, and although they were painted flawlessly, they lacked a base of emotion…of passion.  At the time, Bette had dismissed them, stating that she’d never been inspired to paint them.  She’d merely done them for class assignments.  Which was why she’d gone for a career running art galleries rather than being in them.  All her energies went into discovering artists with vision and passion instead of trying to uncover her own talents.

This painting, however, was completely different.  It seemed less carefully constructed than her previous work, and the feeling—the sentiment underlying the overall painting shone through brilliantly.  Just looking at the painting filled Tina with such an overwhelming sense of wonder, she almost didn’t recognize the subject.  Shane—but the Shane that she’d only gotten a rare glimpse of…in her moments of sage advice, or yoda-like wisdom combined with an almost child-like innocence.  That the normally self-involved Bette even saw this side of Shane was astonishing enough to Tina; but that she was able to capture it on canvas was simply astounding.  It seemed as if something was finally inspiring Bette’s creative side…and that something was Shane.  Hurt and confused by this realization, Tina hurriedly left the house with just a lingering glance at Bette, still sound asleep at the kitchen table.