“Tell me about Scott, T,” Bette asked, as she sagged into her chair, grasping the lapels of the bathrobe closer around her, arms criss-crossed in front.

Tina put her coffee down, and then pushed the coffee cup and saucer to the center of the table.  She leaned forward, and placed her elbows on the table, formed a steeple with her fingers at first, then rested her head lightly on her thumbs.  Hazel eyes stared into Bette’s brown ones.  Tina contemplated where to start, eyebrows knitted in concentration.  She was weighing what to say, thinking to herself: What don’t I tell you about Scott, Bette?  Based on the facts, nothing about what happened, and where Scott had a role, was immaterial.  And yet, based on the truth, what triggered things to happen, and what was continuing to happen, mattered more. Should I give you the facts, or should I give you the truth?

“Just tell me everything, T,” Bette said quietly.  “If it helps…”

She took a deep breath, just as Tina did; and they simultaneously blew air out slowly.  As she did, Bette reflected back to the sessions with Dan, that they started in January, remembering the initial struggle then growth and progress that they had made, building this “loversworld,” as Tina just now called it.  That was a good term, Bette thought.  Appropriate, succinct, clear: it was the best description of what they had shared, and were nurturing, until that revelation on the bridge in early March.

Tina had always been good at that, cutting to the core of something, describing something in a word or two, or turn of phrase, Bette thought as she waited for Tina to start.  The blonde was struggling to find an opening.  Tina, just tell me.  Whatever may come, will come.  Let it happen. Trust me.  Trust us.

Tina drew another deep breath, let it out slowly, and started with the truth, “I was disappearing, Bette."

"I had left everything I had known, including my networks and contacts, from the best lighting technician to the most resourceful costume designer who could work miracles on a shoestring budget.  Back in LA, and the West Coast film world I knew how to deal with the unions, where to secure the best camera rig deals, what extras to look for, etc.  I had assembled a pretty good “toolbox,” so to speak, and, I guess, as with most situations, the one with the biggest toolbox, normally wins.  So I had been pretty confident about that, about myself, back in LA.”