“Hey, baby. Did you sleep well last night?” Tina kissed her hair. It was thick, curly and dark brown. She smiled at the thought of her very own mini-Bette.

“Yea… I dreamt of the beach… I was playin’ the cassel and the sand caught into my eye!” Angie recalled enthusiastically. Tina smiled softly whilst playing with her hair, soothing her baby.

“And then, Maa Bee chased me ‘round… and you helped me swim… We saw jellyfiss too!” Tina kissed her head in silence. Angie would often mention Bette and sometimes when she asked where Bette was, Tina would just keep silent until Angie gets distracted and continue talking once more.

“Why don’t you change and we can go to the beach later… I’ll call Maa Bee next time, ok hunny?” She tried to bargain with her little angel. Angie pretended to think real hard about her options before finally agreeing in a loud, “Yay! Beeesch!” and then running down the hallway to her bedroom.

Tina sighed and picked up her phone. She needed to ask Kit. It was somewhat illogical to ask Bette’s older sister about spending time with her but under these circumstances, she better not take any chances in causing more conflict between them.

–

Bette sat on the floor of her room looking at her possessions, just things that she found in a box hidden in the closet. There were a couple of pictures of herself and family. She recognized Kit and another grumpy man that she knew to be her father. Tina was in a few of the pictures too. They were so happy in the pictures taken so long ago, evident by the innocent faces unscarred by the breakup. She continued to examine the contents with curiosity. When she reached the bottom of the box, she found a few pieces of drawing and sketches underneath a couple of old art supplies and a sketchbook. She looked through the drawings and was quite engrossed in its detail. They were mostly consisting of portraits of a faceless woman. The unique perspective and poses helped hide the woman’s face but she recognized the body. Her breath was caught in her throat, feelings start pouring out of her soul and soon enough she felt the familiar wetness on her cheeks. Bette was used to these sudden outbursts of emotions already, having been experiencing them since the incident. Most of the time, the familiar feeling of sadness and joy were triggered from conversations she had with the girls, pictures she saw, and even the furniture in her house. She had come to accept this as a process of her recovery. Just as she was about to put it away, she caught sight of the initials at the corner.  T.K.P.