If the lunch was with Logan, at times she’d arrange something with Logan, such as the time Bette and Logan had lunch in a restaurant known for its “singing waiters.”  As Logan sat back smiling, one of the waiters had serenaded Bette with an aria from one of the brunette’s favorite operas, handing her a red rose in the end, then kissing her hand to tell her the song and rose had come from “her secret admirer.” 

For today’s note, Bette read out a more personal sentiment, in the unmistakable flowing script of the blonde: 

“Bette, let me quote back to you a few lines from your favorite poet, a poem of whose you recited to me at our wedding: 

I love thee to the level of everyday’s  

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light 

I love thee freely… 

I love thee purely… 

I love thee with the passion put to use 

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. 

As I told you during that magical ride in the Paris carousel, at the end of that perfect early summer day, seemingly long ago, “I want you; I want us to be exclusive; I want us to be together; I want to know what this leads us to.  I want to wake up knowing I have another day ahead of me, having a chance to try to make you happy.  I want to go to sleep at night satisfied I had done all I could to make this work.” 

Your Tina” 

Bette slowly folded the paper, kissing it softly, tears falling on it as she did.  Tina had stood up from her seat, walked over to Bette, and knelt by her side. 

“I love you,” she said quietly, kissing Bette’s tear-stained cheek. 

“I love you,” Bette answered in a half-whisper, resting her head on Tina’s shoulder, as the blonde gently wrapped her hands around the brunette’s head, cradling it onto her shoulder, and stroking her hair.  Her arms dropped to Bette’s waist, and with one arm bracing Bette’s back, she drew Bette into an embrace as Bette similarly hugged her close. 

It was in the everyday living now, that they began to re-discover one another.  To their delight, they each found simple joys in the everyday, finding something to love in the other, as Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote, “To the level of everyday’s most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.”