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Till We Meet Again | A Bette-Tina Beginning Chapter 17

Bette sat in her office after her afternoon lecture session. It was the first day of Spring semester and the class had been at full capacity, with several waitlisted students wanting to add on. She sighed in frustration—this was the first time in several weeks that she had not met or spoken to Tina during the day and Bette found herself missing the blonde very much as she drew absent-mindedly in her sketchbook.

As usual, she was sketching Tina, something she could do with her eyes closed by now. She did not need to see Tina to match her likeness on paper or canvas—her hands easily translated her perfect memory of Tina. The hard part was afterwards: not staring at the sketch, fixated on it, trying to improve on her perfection. And each time she saw Tina, she realized that her radiant beauty could never be captured in a still frame and that as an artist, she could never do justice to Tina by framing her or putting her in a box.

She sketched furiously, losing all sense of time as she intensely concentrated on her drawing. Finally, Bette applied the finished touches and smudges to her sketch and was once again, unsatisfied with the final product as she lay it down. She took off her reading spectacles and picked up her cellphone, typing and sending a message to the blonde,

“Hi, how r u? Class was a nightmare.”

Her cellphone buzzed back with a new message almost instantly.

“Aww, want me to make it all better?”

Bette smiled and typed back, “If only…I miss you…”

This time Tina called her back and Bette answered excitedly,

“Hi!” she fidgeted in her seat and played with her hair

Tina laughed, walking down the hallway. “Hi babe…you miss me huh?”

“What, when did I say that?” Bette laughed nervously, butterflies fluttering in her stomach, almost melting as she heard Tina call her ‘babe.’

“PORTER…I have evidence so don’t dare deny it.”

“Pfft, whatever T…I was just saying that to make you feel good about yourself. It helps in boosting your self-esteem that I would be missing you…”

Tina rolled her eyes at Bette’s inflated ego. “Whatever you say Bette.”

“Of course…where are you?”

“Oh, I am visiting a friend right now, almost there…”

“What, you have friends besides me?” Bette kept her voice light but felt insanely jealous. Who was Tina visiting at this time of the day when she normally met her?

“Of course Porter. I do socialize with other human beings unlike some people I know. Where are you, locked away in your office?” Tina guessed correctly.

“Erm…well I do have office hours to fulfill, T…” Bette answered meekly.

Tina laughed. “Anyone with you…?”

“No…they are too scared to meet me after hours…” Bette said smugly.

“Maybe they cannot handle the thought of being alone with you in a room?”

“What? Why on earth?” Bette frowned. “I am not that scary!”

Tina rolled her eyes. For someone with her level of arrogance and self-confidence, Bette surely was unaware of her beauty and charisma.

“No…not at all. Listen Bette, I gotta go, I am there.”

“Oh…” Bette was disappointed. “Okay…will I see you…tonight?”

“I don’t know Bette. Probably not. I have had a pretty tiring day myself.”

“Oh…Is there anything I can do?” Bette said, her voice showing concern for Tina.

Tina smiled. “You already have…Thanks for the call. I gotta go, Take care.”

“Anytime…You too” Bette said softly, not wanting to hang up and break the connection with Tina. She was happy just hearing Tina breath over the phone. She closed her eyes shut and exhaled loudly, groaning as she heard a knock on her door.

“Come in…” Bette glanced up and dropped the phone at the sight of Tina in a black business suit and high heels, standing at her door, grinning.

“T!” Bette jumped up to greet her, banging her bad knee against her desk in her excitement, the excruciating pain making her see stars and almost double-over and black out.

“Bette!” Tina shouted, dropping everything and rushing to her side as fast as her heels could carry her.

“Oh my God, baby, are you alright?” She steadied Bette in her arms, sitting her down on her chair as she kneeled down, rolled up Bette’s pants to inspect her knee. Bette had a slight abrasion of the boo-boo variety and some swelling on her knee that would turn into an ugly bruise by tomorrow. Tina winced with pain as she saw the surgery scars on her knee, and wanted nothing more than to kiss it better. She sat back slightly stunned with the realization until she looked up and saw Bette still in pain.

“Bette…baby, are you okay? Can I do something? Do you have a First Aid Kit in here? Or even some place we can get you some ice? Do we need to take you to the hospital?” Tina got up and looked frantically around the office, desperate to find some relief for Bette.

Before Bette could say something, Tina had rushed out of her office, and headed for the Humanities and Art Department staff-room that she had seen on her way to Bette’s office. She hurriedly grabbed a plastic cup and took some ice from the freezer. Next, she spied a First Aid Kit on the wall, opened it and took out some bandages, unwrapped them hurriedly as she rushed back to Bette.

Tina dropped to her knees in front of Bette as Bette watched in disbelief, still in a trance. She sucked in a deep breathe as Tina applied ice directly to her skin, the cold bringing some much-needed numbing relief while the warm, caring hands sending tingles up her knee, putting life back into it. Bette did not know which contact she preferred at the moment but she sorely missed Tina’s hands on her as she wrapped the bandage around her knee, slowly clearing items from her desk to elevate her leg up carefully. It was then that Tina saw the breath-taking sketch that Bette had made of her and Bette together, skating on ice.

“Wow…” Tina stood stunned as she took in the ethereal beauty of her and Bette together, feeling the intense chemistry between the pair that looked perfect together as they stared deeply into each other’s eyes, oblivious to everything else around them.

Bette followed Tina’s gaze and moved to shut her sketchbook as soon as she saw
Tina looking at her most recent drawing.

“Bette! Let me see that!” Tina protested, as Bette slid the scrapbook into her desk.

“No!” Bette snapped up at Tina. “WHAT are you doing here anyway? I thought you went to see a friend,” she spat out, staring out the window, avoiding Tina, scared at being caught.

“I did.” Tina regarded her coolly. “I missed my best friend so I thought I would come and see her, and bring her some lunch because I was sure that she would forget to eat. AND I also brought her favorite mocha latte from our favorite coffee place…” she finished, gazing softly at Bette as she picked the takeout bag up from the floor.

Bette turned around, surprise written on her face. “How did you find me?”

Tina shrugged. “I called the Humanities and Art Department, asked for Bette Porter’s schedule and room numbers,” she looked around the small office space, taking in the combined mess of art, videos and books all round.

“Bette! Geez, your office is as scattered as you!” Tina looked round, wondering where to start the cleaning job and what equipment she would need.

Bette rolled her eyes. “It is not my office. I share it with another nutty lecturer. I couldn’t be bothered to keep it clean or tidy in here. And please don’t start cleaning in here too, we have janitors for that, unless you want the job…”

Tina sighed. “You expect me to have lunch with you in here? There isn’t any place to even sit!” she scrunched up her face in disgust.

“Lunch? Not only that, but I expect you to also want to have sex in here . Anyway, you can always sit on my lap…stop being such a snob. Besides, it is the best seat in the house…” Bette teased as she reached for the food that Tina had brought for her.

“Yeah, keep on dreaming and deluding yourself Porter.”

Tina saw a chair under a pile of books and went to clear it, wondering why on earth Bette did not have a bookcase for this. They were all books on art and sex: Art and the Dialectics of Desire, The Sexuality of Christ in Renaissance Art and in Modern Oblivion, Art and Sex in Greenwich Village, European Sex and Erotic Art Museums, Barbican - Seduced: Art and Sex from Antiquity to Now

and so on …

Tina frowned as she read the titles and even pamphlets from the Museum of Porn in Art, Seattle Erotic Art Festival, a Sex Workers’ Art Show tour, and looked at Bette questioningly, who was now busy eating the Chinese food that Tina had brought.

“Should I even bother to ask exactly what you teach your students?” Tina said, smiling wryly at Bette.

“Art history mostly, some technique classes as well but since I am better at teaching than practicing and have an MA in Art History, I usually get to just sit back and lecture,” Bette said.

“So all this sexuality and erotica in art is just research material or personal interest?” Tina asked curiously, holding up the pamphlets.

Bette looked up, unfazed. “Both…I WISH I could teach my students more progressive material like that but not until I can get tenure or move to a university that offers classes in postmodern or erotic art and does not repress human sexuality in academia,” Bette said shaking her head and continued.

“These so-called academics locked away in their Ivory Tower are simply the latest reigning, self-appointed cultural watchdogs of the moment, devoting countless hours and enviable resources towards the BOGUS mission of stifling true creative expression, and instead promoting Eurocentric art movements like the Renaissance or Impressionists, while marginalizing more political and cultural expressions…” Bette ranted, as Tina listened on, completely fascinated.

“Just look at the brilliant piece,” Bette said, fishing around for a journal article, titled Exposed: Aesthetics of Aboriginal Erotic Art, published in Artichoke, shoving it at Tina. “Real research like that is left to be published in small magazines with even smaller readership while our so-called ‘art history’ books sing praises for mostly white artists,” Bette said, scrunching up her nose in disgust, and digging into her food.

“I sometimes wish I had a gallery of my own where I could display all the art that gets marginalized, lend a space or voice to stifled and repressed creative expression, just let the subaltern speak and challenge the hegemony of the art world…” Bette shook her head sadly, picking at her food.

“And you will,” Tina said, smiling at Bette, completely enthralled by her passionate off-the-cuff speech. She picked up the chair, moving to sit next to Bette. “You can achieve anything you want to if you set your mind to it, Bette. Your drive, your passion, your commitment to social justice and to the education of your students is truly commendable. And I love…” Tina was rudely interrupted by the shrilling of the office phone.

Bette cursed out loud and reached for it.

“Bette Porter speaking,” she answered impatiently.

“Hi Bette, I was wondering how your first day back to college was going. I hope you
did not forget to have lunch…” Alice said into the phone.

“Oh Al, how wonderful of you to call and check up on me. I am shocked you even remembered that I also work for a living.” Bette said sarcastically into the phone.

Tina frowned as she eavesdropped on the conversation. That was certainly no way to talk to Alice!

“Bette, I don’t want to fight. I just wanted to say hello and to see if you were doing alright. I will see you at home for dinner, today?” Alice asked, trying to ignore Bette’s crude way of talking to her.

“Ha…alright. Lets try and have dinner together without fighting. Anyway, I have to go, I have someone in my office.”

Alice winced and lost her head. So not only was Bette talking rudely to her, she was doing so in front of a total stranger. “Fine!” she snapped, hanging up on Bette.

Bette stared at the phone and banged it on the desk, muttering curses under her breathe.

“Bette!” Tina admonished. “That is absolutely no way to talk to Alice. She was just trying to be nice!”

“Mind your own business Tina,” Bette snapped back.

“Ouch…” Bette always called her T nowadays. It hurt to be called Tina all of a sudden and Tina did not even know why she felt that way. She just did. Besides, wasn’t it her business to make sure that Bette worked on her marriage and corrected her flaws? That was why they had come together to begin with!

Bette looked at Tina. “I am sorry T. Alice just tends to bring out the worst in me. I know I should try harder,” Bette hung her head.

“Why don’t you Bette? Why is it so fucking hard for you to be just a bit more loving and attentive towards her, to be a little more considerate about her feelings? She seems like such a wonderful person and deserves better.”

Bette was hurt. “Yep, better not Bette…” her eyes filled with tears and she shoved the food away.

“Bette…that is not what I meant. Why don’t you go home tonight and cook dinner? Or set up a nice, romantic bubble-bath? Give her a massage to alleviate the tension and stress of the day,” Tina suggested.

“Ha! I wouldn’t know how to even start…” Bette frowned. How long had it been since she and Alice had been intimate? Bette couldn’t even remember the last time they had made love.

“Well…I am willing to help but on one condition,” Tina said, her eyes twinkling.
Bette looked at her suspiciously. “What would that be?”

“I get to see the rest of your sketchbook…”

“No way!”

“Please Bette…please, please, please! That sketch of us was so wonderful…” Tina pleaded.

“It was crappy like the rest of my LAME work!”

“You let me be the judge of that!” Tina admonished Bette again.

“Yeah, since you are so qualified Madame T…”

“I have an MA in Film ART but beauty does lie in the eyes of the beholder.”

“So you can direct porn but think that it is ART?”

“I will leave the screenplay up to you,” Tina said, with an eyebrow towards all her ‘erotic art’ books.

“We would make a great team together,” Bette smiled wondering what porn written by her and directed by Tina would look like on-screen.

“So I can see the sketchbook?” Tina asked once again.

“No…” Bette said.

“Bette, show me the goddamn sketchbook, RIGHT NOW!” Tina demanded.

“Erm…” Bette almost cowered over. When Tina got angry and ready to erupt, it was best to step or rather, limp aside.

“Promise me…that you won’t get angry,” Bette said, pulling the sketchbook out again.

“I won’t…I promise,” Tina answered sincerely.

She took the sketchbook and opened it, only to stare in shock at the first image.