Tina stared at Bette who seemed unaffected and unfazed by the incident. Her state of fright turned into one of utter confusion. “Bette…” she began softly enough, not knowing what to say. ‘I almost crashed a car because I cannot get my eyes off the perfection that is you?’ a voice offered in her head.

“Tina…” Bette waited with raised brows.

“I am sorry. I was looking for a place to get you dinner, got a bit distracted, and ran the red light, especially since you can barely see in this weather,” she fibbed, though she had been pondering where to stop so she could feed Bette, who could do with a few more pounds on her.

“T…I am not hungry, we can just go home.” Her stomach growled on cue, disagreeing with her. Tina laughed heartily, unbuckled her seat-belt and stepped out in the downpour that was sure to ruin her evening gown and hair.

I Got A Feeling Incomplete In My Heart,

Don’t Wanna Go It Alone Though We Can Never Be Apart,

We Can Never Be Apart,

U Make Me Feel Complete Coz You Are A Piece Of My Heart

You’re The One For Me I Knew It Right From The Start

Yeah, We Can Never Be Apart,

We Can Never Be Apart, We Can Never Be Apart.

(U Me Aur Hum)

“Damnit.” Bette would follow her anywhere and she did just that.

********************************************************************************************

Friday morning, Bette at Home

Dean of Arts: “Ms. Porter, as you know, we conduct student-teacher evaluations on a regular basis—both announced and unannounced at least once a year. You are probably aware that we did an evaluation of you about two weeks ago. I am calling you to discuss the results of those evaluations—suggestions for improvement as well as commendations for strength.”

“Ok…Improvement?” Bette scrunched up her nose in disapproval. How can you possibly improve on perfection?

“Yes, you rate quite highly on mastery of subject, instruction and effective planning but you have received the lowest scores I have ever seen in regards to student-teacher relations.”

“Aren’t those discouraged anyway?” Bette replied, thinking of Nadia immediately and how much she would pay to keep her away.

“No Ms. Porter, I am speaking in reference to being cordial to students, accepting of wrong answers, giving positive and supportive statements to motivate them—some of the comments you write on papers are simply astounding. One student reports in the comment section that you gave him a Z saying ‘You have re-invented the grading system with this paper—I would use it as toilet paper alas it is not worthy of wiping my ass either.’ That does not allow a student to do better, Ms. Porter. Our mission is to get as many of these students as possible to four-year universities, not stunt their growth further by being discouraging.”

“You want me to lie in my feedback? Cuz his paper was bad enough for me to contemplate giving the grade out in Sanksrit, which has 52 alphabets to work with instead of 26.”

“Ms. Porter! Here is another comment you wrote as evaluation of a student art piece: ‘I would recommend this piece to the Museum of Bad Art – Art too bad to be Ignored only because the Museum of Disappearing Art – Art too bad to be Seen, does not exist yet.’”

“It is true…”

“Ms. Porter, I am simply trying to point out that criticisms can be made in a more constructive manner—besides I really do not think that you are qualified to be an art critic. Just pay attention to the teaching and theory part of things and leave the rest to the experts.”

Bette closed her eyes at the reminder of her career as a failed artist. “Right…Were there any good comments?”

“Well, yes, under ‘commendable features,’ almost everyone had good things to write, which was also a bit troubling…” The Dean sighed.

“Why is that troubling?”

“Most of the responses were perverted if not inappropriate, Ms. Porter. They were full of comments about your physical attributes.”

“Oh—I realize that. There are hot peppers next to my name on RateMyProfessor.com. I beat out every professor in that category—I even saved the comments in my portfolio!” Bette joked.

“Ms. Porter, you have been teaching for the past three years. In our college system, tenure is granted to professors mostly based on their teaching ability and professional development of relevant skills. I suggest you work on developing student-teacher relations if you hope to achieve tenure and secure your job within the next year. I hope you understand what I am trying to say.”

Bette gritted her teeth, silently. “Yes, I do.”

Try and score some more hot peppers…

Friday afternoon, Outside Grand Central Station @ the Water Fountain Part 2

“I cannot allow you to do that,” Tina shook her head rapidly. “No way.”

“Why Tina? Am I not good enough to carry your child or do you not trust me?”

“How can you even think that?!” Tina got up, rapidly pacing in front of Bette, using her hands to gesture wildly. “You are in a relationship— How can you even offer to give your womb to another woman without talking to your wife? Your actions have reactions from Alice and consequences for the both of you! I am not about to put your relationship in jeopardy because of my own selfish wants or your ill-thought decisions! Besides, we don’t even know if it would work!”

Bette looked at Tina with a sad expression. “I guess you are right. I mean, who knows, I am probably allergic to Eric’s sperm by default anyway—my body will take one look and go R-E-J-E-C-T…”

Tina stared at Bette for a second longer than usual and then let out a chuckle. That was funny, no matter how sensitive the topic.

“Uff, and did you have to dump the water from the fountain all over me? It must be so dirty! My clothes are ruined! And oh my god, my hair. Bette!” Tina looked stricken enough to make Bette not laugh out loud.

“Quit being such a snobby clean-freak—besides we both need to go home and change for the evening anyway. Actually, wait” Bette inspected Tina from head to toe, “you look better when you are wet, all the clothes hang from the right parts and accentuate the right things…”

“Bette! Don’t try to change the subject—How did you even get that ridiculous idea in your head?”

“That you look better when you are wet? It’s a gut feeling…” Bette smirked. “Oh shit, that was brilliant, wow,” she patted herself on the shoulder. “Did you get it or do you need me to explain the correlation and causation between wet and gut and feeling?”

“You do realize that the only reason I have not dumped you into the fountain is because of your knee, right?” Tina raised her eyebrows at Bette in warning.

“Yep, being handicapped comes with certain perks.” Bette wiggled her eyebrows back at Tina.

“I think I am just going to ignore you and listen to my IPOD.” She plugged in her earphones and smiled as she heard one of Bette’s lectures that she had found on her college webpage. (Of course, Bette records herself talking and gets it uploaded too, what did you think)?

“Yes, my new IPhone is much more interesting as well—Thanks for the break!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“OWWW…Tina!”

********************************************************************************************

Friday afternoon, Tina @ school

“Mrs. Tina Lively, do you know why you have been summoned in front of the school board?”

“I cannot say I know, no.” Tina said, stealing furtive glances at her watch, not wanting to be late in meeting with Bette.

“Is there any truth to these reports from some fifth graders that during seventh period last week you bleached the floor and every desk, sprayed air sanitizer everywhere, made the students wash their hands and took the book covers home to be washed?” The committee members stared at Tina, awaiting her reply.

“Yes, I believe one of the students came down with flu so I decided to take all precautions necessary.” Tina looked expectedly at the committee members.

“What about this report from the cafeteria staff two weeks ago who said you barged in before lunch period and insisted on doing a full health and safety check routine, and even prepare some of the foods yourself, disturbing the entire school schedule?”

“Yes, one of the students complained of food poisoning from cafeteria food, so I was taking all precautions, once again,” Tina shrugged as she spoke, seeing absolutely nothing wrong with her actions.

“Mrs. Lively, have you ever been diagnosed with OCD—Obsessive Compulsive Disorder? You show an obsessive need to keep everything germ-free and sanitary, and that is a problem.”

“No…” Tina frowned. “I would have to respectfully disagree. There is nothing wrong with wanting children to work, study and play in a clean, safe and sanitary environment.”

“This is a public school. We are dealing with children. They are bound to get dirty during the course of the day, spread mild illnesses and get sick occasionally from eating cafeteria food. It is absolutely normal. Cleaning is not part of the teaching curriculum—we have capable janitors for that. We suggest you get some help with your problem Mrs. Lively, as soon as you can before the teaching environment deteriorates further due to your antics. Do you understand what we are trying to say?”

Tina gritted her teeth silently, “Yes I do.”

Place an anonymous call to the Center for Disease Control…

********************************************************************************************

Friday night after the Opera, Part 2

“Denny’s Tina? Seriously? You could not find anywhere else?” Bette said, shrugging out her damp jacket, as they sat down in the practically empty restaurant.

“What’s wrong with Denny’s?” Tina whispered in conspiring tones, letting down her hair and sitting down opposite Bette.

“They had numerous lawsuits filed against them in 1993 and 1994 for racial discrimination. I have not been to a single Denny’s franchise since then–they don’t like people of color,” Bette hissed, pointing to herself.

Tina rolled her eyes—so typical Bette. “Seriously Bette, that was fifteen years ago. Since then, Denny’s has won several diversity awards and really worked hard to improve its image. And you are hardly a ‘person of color’ but we can go somewhere else if you want?”

Bette shot up from her chair. “What?! What do you mean? Just because I am not fully ‘black,’ I don’t qualify as a ‘person of color’ as per YOUR socially-constructed categories. I don’t believe this!” She limped out of the restaurant as Tina sat stunned momentarily at her outburst before getting up to run after her.

The waiters stared after them and then smiled amongst themselves; it seemed like a lover’s quarrel more than a political debate.

“Bette, Bette! Stop, just listen to me!” Tina grabbed Bette and turned her around to face her. Bette stared at her with narrowed angry and hurt eyes, measuring her up, while the rain beat down on both of them.

“What do you want from me Tina?” Her tone was calm and even but with menacing undertones. I have nothing left to give, her eyes pleaded and her heart cried silently.

Tina cupped her face with both hands, wiping the rain from her face, willing Bette to look at her. Believe me, whatever you could give me would be more than I ever had. “Bette, I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that you are not ‘just’ a person a color. When I look at you, I don’t see a bi-racial woman or a gay woman or any other social identity—I see so much more. I see your intense passion, your sharp intelligence, your unsurpassable beauty, your incredible talent, your amazing strength, your snarky sense of humor, your unbelievable perseverance. I see the person that I…” Tina broke off as she stared at Bette, searchingly.

“You see the person that you…? That you what T?” Bette stepped closer, their faces inches away from each other. Tina turned her face slightly to the side, feeling Bette’s hot breath warming her cheek. She shivered at the impact, the rain bearing down on them having no effect whatsoever as they stood in the parking lot. Bette wrapped her jacket around Tina, pulling her even closer as their bodies were meshed together. The friction of their bodies created a burning heat that overshadowed any coldness.

Their lips bare centimeters apart, Bette watched her intently not wanting to do anything that Tina would object to, not daring to hope against hope, but she saw only desire darkening her hazel-colored eyes. Rain clung onto her eyelashes and lips like glittering jewels, dripping down her neck and disappearing into her cleavage.

“That I…,” she kissed Bette on her cheek, stroking her face lovingly, amazed at the smoothness of it, as Bette almost came undone under her touch.

“That you…” Bette whispered in breathless uneven gasps, leaning down to capture her lips.

Tina turned her head, hugging Bette closer and reaching up to whisper into her ear, sending tingles down Bette’s spine. “That I…think you are the biggest pompous jackass badly in need of a set down,” she yelled, almost deafening Bette, who flinched at the impact on her eardrum, letting go of Tina. The blonde pulled back and took off her heels, running across the parking lot onto the pavement before turning around to take a glimpse at a stunned Bette.

“And I am just the woman to deliver it,” she shouted across at Bette, sticking her tongue out at her and laughing heartily as she ran into the park pavilion shelter out of the rain.

“Oh just you wait…” Bette growled and snapped out of her stationary pose, limping after her as fast as she could. Upon reaching the park pavilion entrance, Bette saw Tina slow-dancing in tiny circles by herself, arms out, head thrown back, holding an imaginary partner, swirling around like a leaf caught in an eddy. Time seemed to come to a standstill as Bette took in this breathtaking sight of her love, only to find a familiar dull ache in her chest as she came out of a trance. Her anger forgotten, she made her way towards Tina, gaping at how she seemed unconcerned about her disheveled appearance.

“T…what has gotten into you? First, you get purposely drenched in the rain and ruin your clothes then take off your heels and run barefoot through puddles and wet-grass? Do I need to call a doctor?”

“Shhh…do you hear that?” Tina cocked her ear to the side excitedly, gesturing to Bette to stay quiet and concentrate. Bette heard nothing. Tina knelt down on one knee, holding out her left hand, beckoning Bette to take it.

“Dance with me?” she spoke softly, her lips trembling with nervousness and anticipation.

Bette looked at her as if she had grown another head. “Erm…T, this may be obvious but there’s no music,” she said in a mocking conspirational tone.

“Listen carefully baby…” her eyes glistened with tears but her smile was radiant, warm and inviting.

Bette looked around her surroundings, consuming the fluid blend of watercolors—the charcoal-smeared sky with ribbons of clouds, the serpentine flashes of lightening, the dark silhouette outline of clumped trees, the downpour uniting the canvas. And sure enough, she heard it. A wordless tune was created only for them as the rain showered down its blessing on varied surfaces over the earth, producing misty, gentle, concrete, dripping, pouring and splashy sounds; the random pulsations as lightening split the sky and the clouds thundered in applause; the wind sighed sweetly among the leaves, whistling through the hollow reeds; the branches bended down and swayed in celebration. Nature wrote them to be together and now came to stand testament to their eternal love.

She took her hand. It was the single second in time that the world perfectly aligned itself, and everywhere there was peace and harmony.

Venga y ahogarse en este amor,

mora si quieres en este amor

Jinko jinko bhi, milna hai likha

Ishq milwayega,

Door door se dhoond dhoond ke

Pass le aaye ga

Kahin bhi jaake chuppo, ishq wahin aayega,

Kitna bhi na na karo uttah ke le jaayega

Maano ya na maano, yeh saari hi duniya

Isi ke dum pe chale

(Song credit: Jee Le - U Me Aur Hum)