“Someone beat you to it.” Bette sat up and giddily covered her mouth with her hands as she remembered the text from last night. She saw the confused expression on Sonja’s face and explained. “Kennard.” She whispered breathlessly as she eyed the older woman teasingly. “You’ve got yourself some competition.” She grinned at Sonja.

Sonja narrowed her eyes and placed a hand over her chest, feigning hurt. “More than ten years of tradition, down the drain..” She sighed dramatically as she turned around and started walking dejectedly towards the windows. She did her usual task of pulling open the curtains and letting the sunlight stream inside the dark bedroom. Although she made quite a show of sighing audibly and drooping her shoulders in defeat, she really wasn’t feeling that upset with the fact that someone was able to beat her this year. If it had been one of the three girls, she was sure that she would be feeling mighty crappy and lousy right now. But upon hearing that it was that Kennard girl, she let the thing slide. That girl was responsible for her beloved Bette’s good mood this morning, and all the other mornings these past few weeks. Thus, she was pardoned for breaking tradition.

“Aww.. don’t be sad Sonja.” Bette called out as she brought her knees closer to her chest and rested her head on them. “Your early morning, eardrum destroying greeting has always been one of the highlights of my birthday.” She flashed the older woman a reassuring smile.

“Really? But you never seem to enjoy them before..” Sonja lifted an eyebrow as she regarded the brunette on the bed. There were years when she was angrily sent out of the room, thrown at with pillows, shouted at loudly and cursed at violently. As a matter of fact, she was chased out of the room last year by a high-heeled shoe wielding Bette.

“I was an asshole then.” Bette shrugged apologetically. She was always too stubborn to admit that she was always looking forward to the harsh, yet sweet, wake up birthday song from Sonja. She was actually dreading the year when she wouldn’t be able to hear it anymore. Though she would scream obscenities at the older woman, in truth, as soon as the woman walked out of her room, she would find herself busting at the seams with happiness. She couldn’t explain how the simple, irritating act made her feel warm and fuzzy.. like she was truly cared for and loved. It made her wonder what her birthdays would have been like if her mom hadn’t died in a car accident when she was just two years old. She didn’t know much about her mom, her dad didn’t really like to talk about her. She could sense a deep sadness within her normally stoic and unfeeling father whenever she tried to bring up her mother into a conversation. But what she did know, based from the random stories that she picked up, was that Maxine Porter was one heck of a woman. A passionate lawyer and a dedicated humanitarian, she single-handedly spearheaded the M. Porter Foundation and other charity organizations all over the world. Those who knew her when she was still alive have regaled her with stories that painted her mother as a caring and warmhearted individual. So, Bette was sure that if her mom was still living, she would be so much like the loving and motherly Sonja. She was lucky, she still had a mother-figure to look up to in the guise of her chambermaid. “Maybe you could do better next year..” Bette lifted her eyebrows as she smiled warmly at the older woman.