From Robert’s washroom Tina could hear him apologizing to someone she could only imagine was also not making their dinner reservations tonight. “Are you ready in there” Robert knocked.  Most of the puffiness around her eyes had subsided and with a bit of makeup the red blotches she always got when she cried like this were barely visible. “Yep. Just a minute” Tina straightened her shirt and patted her belly. “Ready?” she asked herself in the mirror. Tina nodded and walked out the door.

Robert’s car was what you’d expect of a 40 something famous L.A. attorney. Black, fast, foreign, and small. Really small. Tina who was just starting to get used to accommodating the new size of her belly had to come at the passenger seat from several angles before wedging herself into the tan and black leather. “Like a glove” Robert chuckled as he closed the door. Tina had been in a car like this before. Her ex, Eric, had one just like it when they drove up to the Bette Porter Gallery the night she met her future wife. She was much smaller then though. In lots of ways, she guessed.

Robert drove fast down Santa Monica Blvd. Tina’s white knuckled grip on the center console only eased as his car came to a jerked halt in front of the valet stand of The Mandarin Cafe. “*****” Tina whispered It wasn’t until Robert asked “What? What’s the matter?” that Tina realized she’d actually said this out loud. “It’s ummm, it’s nothing. This is just one of Bette’s favorite places. Mine too I guess.” “Okay. No problem.” Robert said, reassessing. “Ummm..there’s Raul’s down the stre..” “No, no this is fine. Really.”, Tina interrupted. “It’ll be good for me” she said offering a smile.

After a lengthy and slightly humiliating car extraction Tina and Robert were seated and Robert’s badly needed martini had arrived. He drank half of the contents in one slow sip. Sated for the moment he set down the dewey glass and squared his shoulders to Tina who was nursing a Pellegrino with lemon. “Poor girl” Robert thought to himself “All this ***** to deal with and she can’t even have a drink.” The virtues of being a man rarely escaped Robert, especially at times like these. The whole car thing was enough for him to thank God he didn’t have a uterus.