While Bette was dressing the idea came to her. She abandoned her thought of a massage and went to the Concierges desk downstairs instead. Soon after, she was headed out the door of the hotel with directions and a list of stores where she might find what she needed.
The streets were lively and the air of spontaneity and possibility was the same as Bette remembered from her previous visits. She passed by several artists booths set up on the street and paused for a moment in front of some landscapes. If she werent on a mission, she would have taken a closer look, but she made a mental note to return another time.
At the second store on her list she found what she wanted. They had beautiful stationery, cards and envelopes. Bette spent a long time examining it all, comparing the colors and textures, and slowly deciding which ones would be best. Twice the owner of the store asked if she could be of assistance, but Bette refused politely. Finally she chose two different colors of paper and envelopes with different, but complementary shades. Then she moved onto the display of pens and tested and tried many of them with great concentration. She chose four, all blue ink.
On the way home she stopped to pick up something to eat and some coffee. It was tempting to linger on the streets to watch the action on this beautiful spring evening, but Bette was focused on her task and walked directly back to her hotel. In her room she moved a small table and lamp and a chair over near the sliding glass doors. She laid her papers and pens out on the top of the table and sat down to do something she had never done in all the years she had known Tina: write her a love letter.

Tina dressed quickly in jeans and a t-shirt and opened the door to her bedroom. She felt slightly nervous but kept moving out of the room. She turned the corner and saw those flowers again. They were beautiful and the sight of them touched her. She passed by them though and moved slowly toward the kitchen. No one was there but she saw a sight that cheered her: a pitcher of margaritas. Thank God, she thought.
Everyone was on the patio and Wayne was just finishing a story as she slid the screen door to the side and stepped out. The three of them turned to look at Tina.
Sorry to keep everyone waiting, she said softly.
Everyone spoke at once, assuring her that it was fine. Diane stood up and walked over to Tina and put her hand on her shoulder. Come sit down, honey. Wayne was just telling us about his trip. Mary made her incredible margaritas, why dont I get you one?
Mary jumped up out of her chair.
Oh, let me do it Diane. Her cheeks blushed slightly when she faced Tina.
Tina smiled softly and sat down. Wayne began to talk to her.
Mary stopped at the door and turned around. Salt, Tina?
Tina didnt hear her.
Mary walked back and gently touched Tinas arm. Tina turned, a little surprised at the contact.
Do you like salt around the rim?
Tina was lost for a second. Ohyeah.
Mary spun around and headed back toward the kitchen. A few minutes later she returned with a picture perfect margarita and handed it to Tina.
Tina took a drink and a small tide of delicious liquid rolled across her tongue.
Oh, this is amazing, she sighed.
Mary smiled. Thanks. My ex was a perfectionist about them. I learned from her.
Tina nodded, but didnt speak. She took another drink.
Things are looking up, she thought.