Till We Meet Again | A Bette-Tina Beginning Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

Breathless from exertion, and gasping for air, she fell to her knees, her head dropping to the ground.

“I can’t anymore…” she gasped.

Her companion circled around her once and then twice, coaxing her to get up and continue.

“One more mile Alice. You can do it…”

“Why would anyone subject themselves to this torture?” Alice groaned from the ground.

She spied Dana grinning down at her and continued. “And actually feel a wicked glimpse of joy from someone else’s misery.”

Dana shrugged as she sat down next to Alice off the trail, giving her a water bottle. “I always wanted to be a star tennis player and for that we need to train hard daily. Isn’t there a dream that you wanted to pursue, that you were really good at and would do anything for?”

Still struggling for air and gulping down the water, Alice sadly reflected on her life and the choices she had made. “I wanted to be a musician, have my own band. Music was my life for so long, the core of my existence. But now it’s just a hobby that I have no time for.” She laughed bitterly, wondering where she and Bette would be today had that unfortunate accident not occurred, had she not given up on her dreams which changed the dynamics of their relationship.

“Why didn’t you pursue that?” Her curiosity was peaked.

“It doesn’t pay the bills unless I made it big? Life got in the way? I don’t really have an answer. And now it’s too late”

“Bullshit Al. It’s never too late to do something you love. Don’t deprive yourself of your dreams. Do you really want your life spent with a huge what if?”

Their eyes met and Dana stared defiantly at Alice before lowering her head back down and blushing before she stood up and held out her hand to Alice.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t … I am no one to offer unsolicited advice.”

An indefinable moment passed between the two ‘friends’ as Alice sat staring at the hand that Dana offered to her. Could this be the start of something new for her, something that would enable her to leave the bitter and cut-throat magazine behind and live her dreams once again? Would Bette be supportive if she quit her job at Diva to carry out her teenage dreams of pursuing a career in music?

Alice reached up, her hand unsteady but resisted the slight tug from Dana.

“Will you come out with me to The Planet tonight?”

So she was still ever-curious about Dana’s sexual orientation, even if she wouldn’t ‘out’ her publicly. But more than that, Alice just wanted to spend some good times with Dana before coming clean with her.

“The lezzy club in West-Hollywood?”

“Yes, my sis…uh, sister’s friend, Kit Porter, owns and runs the place. It’s karaoke night, which is always fun. But if you are too uncomfortable…”

You get lezzy points for knowing it’s a lesbian club Dana, she thought to herself.

“What? No, of course not. I’ll come…What do I wear?” The introverted goofy grin was back on the athlete’s face as she looked down at Alice.

“Casual.”

“Casual?” Dana looked down at her clothes in confusion, wondering if they were casual.

“No, not THAT casual.”

“Uh, ok … Well, you are on. Now give me 1 more mile…”

“Dana…” she whined and groaned but finally got on her feet.

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I was sure my feet were floating off the ground even before our lips collided.

This was wrong.

The fleeting thought was erased from all cognitive processes as her lips met mine in another one of those life-altering passionate kisses. The people, the buildings, the traffic all became a kaleidoscopic blur. I could only see her, taste her, inhale her, feel her and sense her.

No, this was right. It had to be right. How could anything that felt so good be wrong?

Bette is kissing ME. I am in HER arms. SHE is kissing ME.

My heart is pounding so wildly, she has got to be able to hear it.

Mmhm. So right.

There was no turning back.

I had longed for a romantic fairytale of my own for so long. And here, I was living and breathing in my own fairytale. Only this was better than a fairytale, better than any magical enchantment. It was real. So real that everything else had to be an illusion.

I love her, I am in love with her. I love HER.

It should be part of one of those Ten Commandments set in stone.

Thou shall love Bette. Tina loves Bette.

Make that Eleven.

So this is what it feels like? The rush, the excitement, the fervor of first love. The completely outlandish feeling that if I were to jump from the top of the Empire State building, her love would break my fall and even catch me; that if I held my breathe under water for a tad bit too long, her love was sufficient to breath air into my lungs. Her dreams and desires were slowly becoming my dreams and desires. I craved and pined to fulfill her every wish. Together or apart, my every waking moment was filled with thoughts of her. I would dance around the house on old overly-sentimental music with a jacket I had sniped from her, pretending that she was in my arms. At night, I would go to sleep with her handkerchief under my pillow—the one I had received on the night of the Opera, the night I realized my love for her. It was a physical token of that beautiful night for me that I would never forget.

Little else mattered to me these days besides Bette. Work was just a job. The dusting, sweeping, washing, and vacuuming could all wait. I was floating in the clouds, in outer space, in Bettespace.

I didn’t even know why I was so captivated and spellbound in her love. It wasn’t merely because she was intelligent and opinionated; a lot of people I knew were pretty smart and vocal. It certainly had little to do with her gruff, sarcastic, bitter and angry personality. And this love went beyond looks—I would be in love with her had she not been perfect in appearance; that was just an added bonus.

She was no Prince Charming not from any royalty, but she was divine, just a step above the rest. What had she said on our first fateful meeting? Yes, Bette, better, best.

Maybe it was her eyes. They were so smoky and seductive, and yet sensitive and serious one moment, teasing and jovial in another. How could one person, one woman lure my soul out of my body without even touching me, with only the warmth and heat of her eyes?

Or maybe it was those luscious, soft velvety lips that I could kiss endlessly, that smile that could make the whole world rotate an additional time on its axis. It surely sent me spinning.

I was caught up in one of those whirlwind romances– it was spinning out of control but while in the center, I was safely cocooned and comforted by this turbulent love as it weaved its destructive path through our lives. I would only find that out later, much later.

For now, I felt like a giddy teenager again. I wanted to write our names on trees, on sandy shores, in notebooks, spray paint on public property. I wanted to put letters about our love in an old section of a library to be found years after we have perished, as a testament of the fact that our love would live on, even if trapped within the narratives of a book, and considered taboo and constrained due to our circumstances. The winds could not verbalize, the heavens may not proclaim, and human-made structures were unable to articulate the unadulterated realities in our hearts and soul—that she was mine and similarly, I belonged to her.

I knew my perfect love was a tad bit imperfect. I made sure that I didn’t enable her inflated ego, but I knew deep down that Bette needed encouragement, that her snobbish arrogance was simply a cover for insecurity and low self-esteem. She was infuriating, demeaning, controlling, painfully agonizing, anti-social, and rude but I somehow found those traits to be endearing as well. I knew that it was her way of dealing with a world that had rejected her, that otherized her, that placed her in the margins of society. So it wasn’t the best strategy, but it ensured that she wouldn’t feel pain upon rejection, which in turn meant that Bette was fiercely protecting a sensitive heart. A heart that belonged to me now and that I would do anything to protect as well.

Anything.

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“Wow…”

A dazed and flustered Bette struggled to gain her composure after Tina had fled the public restroom. She turned towards the bathroom mirrors and winced at her disheveled appearance only to smile as she caught sight of Tina’s handprints on her shirt. As she fixed her hair and general appearance, Bette saw Tina’s phone beside the sink. She must have forgotten to pick it up thanks to their brief passionate encounter.

She was about to pocket it when it started ringing. Bette checked to see who was calling not meaning to answer for Tina. She frowned when she saw “Helena Peabody” on the display.

Why is Helena Peabody calling Tina? How do they know each other?

She let the phone go to voicemail. The curiosity was killing her but she could not get herself to invade Tina’s privacy. If it concerned her and was important enough, Tina would tell her, right? Otherwise, she didn’t need to know.

A text message on the phone jolted Bette out of her thoughts. Again, it was from Helena. Bette could no longer hold off her inquisitive nature—she had to get to the bottom of this or else she wouldn’t get any rest. She clicked to open and read the message.

“Only 2 more days n u can drop Bette. Cya tonight! – H.P.”

Bette stared at the screen, blood draining from her face. None of this made sense. Drop Bette? As in dump Bette? How could that be? Tina was planning to dump her? No fucking way. Even if Tina was playing with her, which she doubted, how did this concern Helena? What was going to happen in two days? Helena and Tina are meeting tonight?

She checked the voicemail and the other saved text messages. This did concern her after all.

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I was struggling to seat an inebriated and partially-conscious Helena into the passenger seat of her red Ferrari when I felt, rather than heard familiar footsteps behind me. The hairs on my neck rose on alert, my skin erupted into goose bumps, my heart started pounding furiously, and I knew even before she spoke that she was behind me.

I took a deep breathe to turn around as I shut the passenger door, steadying myself against the door.

Bette stood in front of me wearing a short dazzling strapless black dress that showed off her toned legs, her coat on one arm, carrying her purse. I was too petrified to realize she was breaking one of the rules we had made just this afternoon. She regarded me silently, her face twisted in pain or maybe confusion. I could tell she had been drinking though not enough to be drunk.

“I heard the two of you inside.”

I could feel the color draining from my face. I was sure Bette could see it too.

Damnit, I am so screwed!

“So this is what you are doing tonight?” she gestured into the car. “What happened to your standards Tina?” she snickered and then stood there staring at me with a heart-broken smile, taking in the horrified expression embellishing my face.

“Oh, before you ask how I knew, I found something that belongs to you.”

She took the phone I had been missing out of the coat and handed it to me, her eyes never leaving mine and spoke softly, so quietly that I had to strain to hear her. Nonetheless, my heart heard the hurt in her tone.

“You left it at the public restroom in the park. Maybe you were a bit too distracted. I am not inclined to gratuitously interlope but circumstances led me to reading some of the text messages and your voicemail, which brought me here, to this juncture.”

She inhaled slowly and then puffed out her cheeks, excruciatingly.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!

I understood that she wasn’t proud of snooping but in hindsight that was a lesser concern than what she had discovered. That smile broke out on her beautiful face again as she stood there gazing at me.

Still my insides were screaming—I felt like lashing out at her for invading my space but a tiny voice in my head clearly said she was entitled to—that we cannot build a relationship on a foundation of lies and she would have found out sooner or later.

She glanced inside at Helena and looked back at me, her eyes welling up with fresh tears that I wanted to brush away but seemed unable to. I was transfixed, unable to come up with the right words and too afraid to risk her hatred and contempt, her instant rejection. Was it too late? I simply stood rooted to the spot and stared into her beautiful eyes, now bleak and wounded.

I could see a thousand questions flicker across her tortured features, some which I did not have answers to yet.

What are you doing Tina? Why did you do this to me? Did you ever love me? Was it all an act? Do you even care about me? What relationship do you have with Helena? Was this just some sort of experiment for you? Why me? Why…? Why…? Why…?

I held my breathe as one question found its way to her lips.

“Do you need my help T?”

Ironically, it was a helpless whisper. Her voice was soft. She sounded scared. But it was enough.

Relief poured through me, tears of joy flowing from my eyes … On impulse, I grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her neck down and pressed my lips to hers, hoping she would understand the depth of my feelings, my sincerity towards her. She closed her eyes and surrendered, dropping her belongings, her hand coming up to cup my face and neck, pulling me closer to her. We both moaned as we tasted each other hungrily, neither of us conscious of anything but the magical bond between our lips. I shivered and pulled her closer and felt her own body shudder in my arms.

“T…” she broke the kiss, gasping for air, her hands cradling my neck, forehead leaning against mine.

“Mmhm?” I brought her forehead down to place a chaste kiss on it.

“There is no way, absolutely no way that you are straight.” She raised her head, her grin belied the confidence in her voice.

I cleared my throat and finally found my voice …

“Damn straight Porter.” My fingers caressed those perfect lips as I giggled nervously.

“Thanks for trusting me. I promise I’ll tell you everything soon.” I swallowed—I knew she deserved more but I couldn’t risk her involvement in this.

She shook her head then. “It’s not about trusting you T … I trust us … Our love. I know that even if we can sometimes be wrong, that our actions on some level are wrong, our love is without a shadow of a doubt, pure and untainted.”

My pulse raced as she gazed down at me with the utmost love and adoration, her eyelashes forming a black curtain that only accentuated the depth of her feelings.

It was my turn to cry. “Tell me you aren’t just a dream.”

“I’ll rather show you.”

Her lips descended on mine and I was powerless to stop her once again.

“I need to go. You can show me more later.”

“I’ll have to think about that. Maybe on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“We forget about those rules…”

Her eyes danced playfully, warming me up inside. This was the Bette I wanted to see –the playful, fun-spirited and jovial person. God, she was so unbelievably beautiful, even more so in the moonlight.

I smiled, dodging the statement … “I love you. My car is parked right there. James will drive you home.”

I pecked her on the cheek. If I kissed her on the lips, I might be caught up for another half an hour and maybe half-naked in the parking lot, with or without children, no thanks.

“James?” She queried.

“He’s a friend and he doesn’t bite.”

“Should I ask how you know that?” she teased lightly. I smiled and kissed her nose, ignoring her jibe.

With my heart heavy and reluctant, I pulled away from her and went around the Ferrari to get into the driver’s seat.

“And I may reconsider the rules if you take me out for our first real date and show me your paintings—everything you have done on me.”

I got her! She stood there gaping after me as I pulled out and away, that winning grin that almost always graced her features now etched on mine.

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