When Bette heard a knock at the door she dropped the cup fleur helped paint. thankfully the ‘Pillager’ was out with Kit shopping. Kit happened to be in town and
stopped by to take Fleur out of Bette’s hands. Even though they both loved each other, Fleur and Bette valued their time apart. Bette was now making
lemonade, squeezing real lemons into the pitcher..whipping it up and leaving out the sugar. Bette hated anything liquid to have sugar in it. Tina used to like hers with sugar-overload
and Bette remembered accidently sipping hers once or twice, the taste was…uggh. So very carefully she squeezed so no pulpy ***** went in there. Bette didn’t like concentrate either.
She was feeling very picky today and was glad that Kit came by to collect Fleur, she needed some time alone to re-engergize and gather her bearings. Lately Bette had been under
some stress with her pension adn *****. she wasn’t that old, only 55. Though Bette didn’t like that number it was alright cuz she felt  much younger. At least since she had been looking after
Fleur…it was stressful but having constant companionship with a little one did have suprising results. And Bette had been trying so hard with this one. Her own, her own one…had somehow
slipped through Bette’s fingers and now it was like she tip-toed around making sure imstakes weren’t made. And not mistakes like spilling the milk…but mistakes that might stick in a
child’s mind for later on. Bette made sure she never said “shut-up”, never hit in anyway, never spoiled Fleur, never was her ‘buddy’ but buddy and parent both, etc etc…the most
important though involved Angelica. Bette made sure that Fleur knew about Angelica. She would tell the ‘Pillager’ that Angelica was her mom, and that she was on a big trip but
would come back soon. Fleur listened intently and would look at photos of Angelica…asking things like whether Angie like to play house or make cookies. Bette felt like her heart
was going to break but she made sure that Fleur knew her mother…it would make it easier for when angelica did come home. Whenever that might be. Bette had given up guessing when
her daughter was coming back, the postcards had grown thin until four weeks ago they ceased completely. The police were ‘always’ on the lookout but hadn’t turned anything up. And
Angelica would be ninteen now. Legally an adult. Bette wondered how she looked like.