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Number of Stories Written: 51
‘What the fuck is that?’ Shane’s voice, coming close to Bette and Tina’s heads, out of the darkness of the room, made them both leap up and scream. ‘OHMYGOD!!!!’ ‘AAAARRGHGHGHGH!’ Solly barked and growled and snarled with a ferocity that Tina had only seen a couple of times in the whole seven years they’d had
Tina smiled. ‘Hi,’ she said softly. ‘I’m Tina.’ Bette’s face broke into a beaming smile. Her eyes welled with tears. She laughed. Tina laughed too. And then Bette gathered up Tina’s right hand, kissed it, and said, ‘Hi. I’m Bette.’ There are moments in life that are longed for and don’t live up to their
‘Wait, did you say “golf”?’ Angie’s face at the breakfast table was a perfect mix of confusion and amusement. ‘Mhmm,’ Bette replied, as lightly as she could. ‘Golf ?’ Angie now wrinkled her nose. ‘Like with the visors and the plaid pants and the sweaters with all the triangles and—’ ‘Argyle,’ Bette said evenly. ‘Those
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse . . . Well, okay. Not the ‘night before’. In fact, it was the morning before and at least one creature was stirring. A small reddish-brown dog who pricked up his floppy ears and darted
Bette steered the Volvo as gently and as smoothly as she could up the moonlit driveway, bringing it to a stop outside the front door. She engaged the handbrake and glanced at the clock on the dash. Just gone eleven-thirty. Outside, the grass glittered with the beginnings of a frost but the porch was edged
On Monday afternoon, Tina and her PA went for a long lunch and then Tina took the bus down to Broadway to go hang out at the Strand Bookstore. When you’re stuck or overwhelmed or need to jump the rails creatively, Tina, connect with the world. Listen to people talking, watch their mannerisms. Remember who
On Monday night, they watched the show as usual and then chatted about it as they got ready for bed. They both hated the Fake Marcus storyline, felt it was crass. Bette also had secondary concerns that Fake Angie a) was suddenly so unstable and b) felt a white tux was acceptable clothing. ‘What about
On Monday, a little after seven, Tina was bringing Solly home after his evening walk when she got an alert on her phone. She slowed her pace, pulling the dog gently to a stop, and looked. It was an event being added to her calendar: a video call with her boss, network president Alan Gage,
Tina was in her office, sitting curled into the corner of one of two long leather couches that sat at right angles to her desk. She wasn’t a desk person. She had a MacBook but she used it mainly for Skype and watching funny dog videos. Her real work was done on a notepad, with
‘Sorry, sorry, sorry . . .’ Bette came into the kitchen preceded from the front door by Solly and followed by Angie. It was late on Monday night and Tina was standing at the central island, packing Sasha’s lunch for tomorrow and listening to a Sixties rock playlist. ‘Well, hello, strangers,’ she said with a
‘I am not!’ ‘You are too!’ ‘No, I’m not!’ ‘Are too!’ ‘Kids . . .’ Sunny said, in his most soothing tone. ‘Mother?’ Angie appealed to Bette. ‘Jesus . . .’ said Kit. Sasha burped monstrously and squealed, ‘It smells of pineapple!’ She breathed this fruity gift all over Solly the dog, who was sitting
Sunday night came round again in a flash. Back from the cabin Wednesday night, then a blur of rescheduled activities and work. One of those little two- or three-day spurts when Bette felt like she was the stage manager of a longrunning Broadway show called The Porter-Kennard Family. All she seemed to do was see
Kit Porter did not like the cabin. Or no, make that ‘The Cabin’, since everyone in her family had a habit of putting it in audible capitals. The Cabin is fun . . . The Cabin is magical . . . The Cabin speaks to nature, Bette actually said once . . . The Cabin
Tina was out in the yard when Bette called out to tell her that it was nine forty-five. Tina called back, ‘Great! Be right there.’ She switched off the watering hose and left it on the ground for Solly to lap at while she slipped her feet back into her Birkenstocks, ran her hand over
‘Tee?’ ‘Coming!’ ‘It’s starting . . .’ ‘I know, I know,’ Tina said, a little breathless as she scurried barefoot across the hardwood floor towards where Bette was sitting. ‘Everyone okay?’ Bette asked, making room by gently pushing Solly, a cute, very sleepy Cocker Spaniel, along onto the end of the sofa. ‘Mhmm.’ Tina reached
This story picks up in the summer of 2020, where my other story, Another Left Turn (ALT), ended. ALT began after Tina tells Bette that she’s engaged to be married to Carrie. It’s a Tibette love story that brings them back together in what I hope is a psychologically truthful way. Some ALT background relevant
Epilogue ‘To high seas and mermaids!’ Helena held out her glass while Dylan, Bette and Tina all gently clinked theirs against it. ‘To high seas and mermaids!’ they echoed, with puzzled smiles. ‘My uncle Harry was a sailor,’ Helena explained. ‘And it sounds right for a table like ours, doesn’t it?’ The irony, of