Bette’s eyes welled up and Tina could hear the tremor in her voice, but her instincts were to stay quiet. To wait. To be present. She rubbed Bette’s back gently to comfort her and waited, playing with strands of her hair. And waited some more. Then Bette spoke again.

“I don’t remember feeling anything for years after she left. Years, Tee. Nothing I could put a name to anyway. It just…there was…this void. I was numb. The movies my friends watched weren’t funny or sad or “dreamy”, they just were. I couldn’t feel. Food tasted bland, I felt like I was walking around in this curious fog, coating me and shielding me from my feelings, my emotions. Nothing could get to me. Nothing could touch me. My father thought I was fine because I stopped crying. That’s my strong girl he would tell me. That’s my strong girl….” She sighed and snuggled in closer to Tina, her arm tighter around her waist.

“This is around the time I started really painting, drawing… I could always put my feelings into my drawings…but I couldn’t show them to anyone. My Mama used to love my paintings and encouraged me but these, these… were raw, sad…angry. One day I will show them to you, if…if, I mean if you want…” Tina was surprised, she had no idea Bette still had her art from when she was a child.
“I do…” Tina whispered, quietly. She did not want to break the spell.

Bette swallowed and reached up with their joined hands and wiped her nose and cheeks with the back of her hand. She was silent again and Tina stayed silent too, sensing Bette needed the quiet. She rubbed Bette’s back and willed her to keep talking. Please, Baby… keep talking to me…

“My Mama…Tee, she … didn’t spend a lot of time with me when she lived with us… but the house felt different with her in it all the same. It felt…softer, warmer… safe. And there were times Tee, oh there were some great times. She loved to dance, my mama. She was so graceful. Loved to sing and bake. She didn’t cook much but she could bake the best key lime pie you ever had. Sometimes she would pull it out of the oven and give me the first slice, before everyone else got home… before dinner even.” Bette looked up at Tina then, sitting up so they could look at each other. Her nose was red, her eyes sad and drawn.