“Anyway, I was hoping to catch you before you made alternate plans. Tina and I are throwing a little get together on Christmas Eve. It’s nothing too formal, and you can bring whomever you’d like.” She looks to Shane and then to me.

“Bette, that sounds sweet, but Carmen’s already invited me to her mom’s.” Shane sounds proud before her hand wraps around my shoulders.

Bette looks just about as surprised as I was when I discovered Shane would be joining me for Christmas, and raises her brows, “Well, that’s quite an acceptable reason to miss a neighborly get together.”

I shake my head, so thrilled that Shane is openly admitting her plans to Bette and not making some cockamamie excuse. Not like she would, I just stew over things. “No, mom’s isn’t until Christmas Day, Shane, so, you’re free to go.”

“We’re free to go you mean?” She’s quick to catch my pronoun misplacement which I carefully calculated so as not to assume anything. I’m giggling at this point.

“Perfect!” Bette claps her hands together and winks at us. “I’ll see you two around eight then? Bring whatever you want, if anything at all. Tina I’m sure will overbuy.” She waves her hand dismissively and smiles at Tina’s name. I feel warmth radiating from her.

“Will Angelica be there?” Shane asks excitedly, inquiring of course about the newest addition to the Porter-Kennard family.

“We were thinking about getting a ‘sitter.”

“Oh no, don’t do that, she’ll make a great addition.” Shane is insisting now, hand moving out to touch the silky upper arm of the expensive blouse. Bette’s expression is priceless. She gives me a knowing glance; I just shrug with a grin.

“Alright, well, we’ll see what happens.” Bette smiles and touches Shane’s forehead like she’s probably done so many times with Angelica, even Tina. No temperature. She’s a nurturer even though she doesn’t always appear to be. I like Bette, I really do.

Shane shakes her off and grins before taking hold of my shoulders and steering me back toward the house. To finish what we started, I suppose. Bette’s chuckling and walking out, a delicate arm waving in her wake; the crispness of the off white blouse in accordance to her mocachino skin is something so artistic, something so Bette.

It’s now me who pulls out of a hold and scurries behind this ***** woman, taking the time to wrap my arms around Shane’s back, clasping my hands under her ***** and kissing in between her cloth-covered shoulder blades. She gives a throaty chuckle and I sigh once, twice, before whispering against the back of her neck.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, C.” She grins and spins me around. To finish what we started.

—To Be Continued—