“Excellent,” Helena said. “We’ll have two of your finest escolar.”

“Very good,” the waiter said, re-tucking the menus under his arm and turning to walk away.

“Garçon?” Helena called out softly.

“Yes, mademoiselle,” he said, turning around.

“Can you do those ‘Post Haste’ please?” Helena inquired.

“Oh, mademoiselle. I’m so sorry. I found out and regret to inform you that we are out of ‘Post Haste’ this evening,” the young man threw his lip out pouting.

“Oh, really!” Helena said, shoving out her lower lip and looking quickly at her dinner companion. “Bette, did you hear that? They’re out of ‘Post Haste’ tonight!”

“My! Now that is an utter tragedy, Helena! I don’t know if I can eat my escolar sans ‘Post Haste’! Shrimp cocktail is one thing! But escolar! That’s simply unimaginable!” Bette recoiled.

The waiter watched in fascination as well as bewilderment.

“My darling,” Helena consoled, taking Bette’s hand, “I know it won’t be the same. But just this once. For me, dearest?”

“Well, all right,” Bette agreed reluctantly, taking Helena’s hand to her mouth and kissing the back of it. “Just this once. But don’t forget the wine. A bottle of Alsatian Pinot Blanc would be nice.”

Helena and Bette batted their eyes at one another.

“Without the ‘Post Haste’ just this once,” Helena said to the young man.

“I’m sure we’ll have it next week, okay?” the waiter responded.

“I’m sure you will,” Helena nodded sweetly. “And bring the requested wine as well, darling.”

The waiter turned to go, then spun around.

“Yes?” Helena said.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

“Certainly, dear,” Helena smiled.

“Are you two lesbians?” he blurted out.

“Why, yes, darling, we are,” Helena replied. “However did you guess?”

“Well, I ain’t stupid, ya know!”

When he was out of view, Bette and Helena howled with laughter.

*** *** *** ***

“But you see, Helena, your mother missed one very important aspect of my dilemma. I’m alone most of the time. If I get Angelica a kitten, I’m going to be the one who has to take care of it. Sure, Angelica will take care of it when she’s there, but what about the 80 or more per cent of the time that she’s not,” Bette grumbled, caressing her neck involuntarily.

Having finished dinner, Helena had ordered two B & B’s for dessert for Bette and herself. Helena cradled the snifter in her hand and watched Bette’s fingers probe her obviously aching muscles as she listened to her argument.

“So what do you think, Helena? Should I get Angelica a kitten?”

“Darling,” Helena responded, shifting her gaze to Bette’s worried eyes. “You’re anxious about nothing. Be glad Angelica doesn’t want a puppy. Then you would have your work cut out for you. Constantly having to take him for walks, giving him baths, taking him out to piddle. Cats at least are low maintenance. You’ll be fine. Get your beautiful daughter an adorable kitten. You actually may enjoy it yourself.”

Bette rubbed her temples then looked up.

“I tell you what. I’ll go with you and Angelica your next weekend together to pick out a kitten. How does that sound.? I’ll bring everything you’ll need before we head out. A small ball, a toy mouse, a couple of bowls for food and water, the food of course, and the litterbox. Some litter. And a scoop.”

“A scoop? What’s the scoop for?” Bette’s eyes widened.

“Why for the doody, of course,” Helena smiled.

“Oh, fuck! Doody?”

Helena laughed. “Darling, there’s nothing to it.”

Bette looked at her new friend and rubbed her neck again.

“Doody,” she repeated. “Well, shit! I guess if you can do it as a small child, I can do it as a grown woman,” Bette muttered.

“That’s the spirit!” Helena said, taking Bette’s hand in hers and removing it from her tight neck. “Now, we’ve solved one problem this evening. Why don’t you let me take care of this?”

Bette closed her eyes and felt Helena’s hand soothingly move against her taut, tender muscles.

“Oh, doody, I’m in trouble,” she muttered under her breath.