Tina listened to Bette as she told Tina about the two paintings she was working on and the one she had finished. They were beach landscapes. Tina liked them a lot, and felt a twinge when she realized she wouldn’t be selling one of these paintings in her store like they had planned. Trying to push the sad feelings away, Tina complimented Bette on her work. Then she pointed at another, smaller canvas with nothing on it yet but a wash of light blue paint.

“What’s that one going to be?”

Bette smiled a little. “I’m not sure yet… but I have an idea.”

Tina gazed back at the painting she liked best. It was a marsh at sunset. Bette had captured the colors perfectly. “I wish I was creative.”

“You told me you liked to write.”

“I do… I haven’t in a long time.”

“You just need to get back into the swing of it.” Bette’s eyes lit up and she said “Wait here.”

She disappeared down her bungalow’s short hallway and returned a minute later. “Here, this is for you.”

Bette held out a nice leather journal that tied in the front. It was soft in Tina’s hands, and she looked at Bette. “Thanks, but…”

“Yes, you can accept it. I’m never going to write in it. I’m always buying journals with the intent of making a habit of it but I never do. It’s supposed to help you sort through your feelings if you write how you feel every day. I think you need an outlet.” Bette nodded at her work area. “I already have one.”

“Thanks. You’ve been a good friend to me, Bette.” Tina tucked the journal into her bag. She noticed that the light on her phone that indicated a new message was blinking. She smiled at Bette apologetically and took out her phone. “Sorry. I’d better check this.”

“No problem. Hey, do you want some coffee or something?”

“That would be great.”

Bette shoved some books to one side on the couch to make room and gestured for Tina to sit down. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”