“It’s Saturday Hel,” Bette replied flatly taking a long drag of her cigarette.  She smiled in anticipation of a quick retort from the clean smelling woman behind her.

“You haven’t been gone from the rat race that long lovey; you of all people know that art never sleeps.   So, what are you going to do today sweetums, have another pity party aye?”

 “How’d you guess?”  Bette replied sarcastically.

“Come do a bit of yoga with me for a few.  We’ll both feel better.  Lord knows I need a calming remedy before I face those raving lunatics today” chimed Helena.   Bette conceded and followed her concerned friend to the backyard in an attempt to relax her tired mind, body and spirit.   As she rolled out her mat, Bette couldn’t help but reflect on how thankful she was for Helena.  Theirs was a relationship that had come full circle.  They met while Bette was living in NY over 5 years ago through Helena‘s mother Peggy. Peggy and Bette worked together on occasion and shared a unique and somewhat nurturing bond.  Peggy claimed to have been a ***** in 1974 and thought she was in touch with the world on a deeper level of sorts including being able to relate to her ***** daughter.  Bette admired the knowledge, gall and wit of the boastful, seasoned art connoisseur.  Peggy was as eccentric as the day is long.  After she and Bette began conversing regularly about art and life, Peggy  had this ‘brilliant’ idea (at least in her mind) to have Bette educate Helena on the business of buying & selling art since she was so well versed and experienced in this area. 

 Helena was totally insulted by the mere thought of being schooled by someone. Especially an arrogant little gallery owner who thought she ruled the world.   Bette lived and breathed art.  It was her passion and she wore it well. She reveled in its history and was frequently sought by experts and wannabe’s alike for her opinions on anything art related.  Helena & Bette despised each other from the start.  When Bette first went to meet with Helena per Peggy’s suggestion, Helena told her the whole thing had been a misunderstanding and quickly sent her back home.  Since then, whenever their paths crossed at meetings, seminars, artists’ events etc, many glaring looks & icy words were exchanged between them. Once Bette had even pressed the close button on an elevator while Helena quickly and unsuccessfully attempted to enter.    Both were intelligent, driven and beautiful women in their own right, perhaps with more similarities than differences in the grand scheme of things.  The coarse thread that bound them closer than anything else was one of sadness, loss and desperation.  They both lost their spouses a couple of years ago around the same time.  Helena‘s wife was killed in a car accident and Bette’s husband suddenly left her without warning. She hadn’t seen nor heard from him since, but knew that he was still around from the tales of others.   TBC…