~~~~~

"Excuse me, Miss Kennard?"

Tina looked up when Joyce’s assistant tapped on the car window and rolled it down. The young woman appeared visibly relieved.

"I’m so glad I caught you: I’m afraid I gave you the wrong set of documents. Can I have that back, please? You won’t tell Ms. Wishnia about this, right? I could get into so much trouble!"

Tina shook her head. "No, don’t worry about it."

She stuffed the papers back in the folder and handed it to the assistant; she traded folders with Tina, thanked her profusely and left.

Tina rolled up the window but didn’t start the car, still in shock. She had opened it expecting certified copies of Angelica’s adoption papers for school but was given Bette’s will instead. It had been amended to add their daughter and a few concessions to Kit, but the bulk of her estate was still going to her. Why didn’t she change it? Why me?

She gripped the steering wheel and stared out the windshield.

~~~~~

Tina ran a finger across her lips, transfixed.

She had been sitting in her car – for how long, she didn’t know – trying to recall when a kiss had left her so … devastated.

Of course she had heard that Bette was a lesbian. She told herself it didn’t matter: she always considered herself liberal when it came to sexuality. But she couldn’t help thinking, Are gay people more promiscuous than straights? Do they go around preying on the unsuspecting, the curious? Did I give something away?

Tina shook her head, rationalizing her thoughts. Bette Porter is a cliched character out of every movie script – beautiful and polished, cultured and worldly, regal and exotic – her impeccable clothing hung on her just so, she had an undeniable eroticism that drew both men and women to her. So why the hell would she have anything to do with you?

A rap on the passenger window woke Tina from her reverie: Bette was outside, looking at her with concern. She gathered herself before unlocking the door. Bette got in and demurely folded her hands in her lap, wondering where her usual self-assurance went. Neither women looked at one another.  After a moment, Bette spoke up softly.

"I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t offend you."

Tina turned to face her – more confused than angry – and struggled to keep the tremor out of her voice. "Bette, why did you kiss me? What did you see in me that made you think you could do that?"

Bette met her gaze; she found that the longer she looked at her, the more disarmed she became. She replied in a whisper, "I don’t know. There’s something in your eyes – a sweetness … " She stopped and looked away, embarrassed, then let out a sardonic laugh. "How fucking corny does that sound?"

Tina automatically shook her head. "It’s not – "

"And you’re beautiful," she finished breathlessly.

Witnessing this seemingly unobtainable woman so open and vulnerable, Tina allowed a small smile in spite of herself.  "Why did you come out here?"

"Haven’t had lunch yet." Bette found herself faltering again. "I was … hoping you’d stop by to pick up your earring … and I didn’t want to miss seeing you."

Tina’s smile spread into a full-fledged grin. She proffered coyly, "I would’ve come first thing today, but I was pretty sure art galleries didn’t open at eight in the morning."

Both women laughed with relief. But soon, the quietness returned and the air became charged with electricity. With renewed confidence, Bette reached out and covered Tina’s hand with her own, their fingers mingling.

"So what do we do now?"

~~~~~