It was about half past seven when I knocked on Bette’s door. I had actually arrived twenty minutes earlier, but sat in my truck debating during that time. Somehow I knew, going through that door was going to be crossing the next starting line. It would be letting someone in, making a connection in a new part of town. At least I didn’t come empty handed. I had bought a six pack on my way over. Bette opened the door, smiled widely at me and invited me in. I remember the first thought that ran through my head, this is the first real house I had been in since arriving in LA all those years ago. The second thought, what the fuck was I doing here? I felt more out of place there in that house than I had at The Planet earlier in the day. Minimal but comfortable furniture, lots of frames on the walls that had clean paint on them. Bette stood by me and motioned to the beer. I handed it over, mumbling something about not being sure what I should have brought. Her replying that my company was all that was required, but she thanked me for the beer.

She brought me back a beer, an open one for her in the other hand, and motioned me towards the backyard. I remember feeling instantly calmer once I sat down in her deck chair. The trees and plants had a calming effect on me. And I was outside of her house, still in her territory, but less confined as I felt in the house. We chatted, drank beer, and she flipped chicken breasts on the grill. She told me about a woman she had started seeing a short while ago. A blond that up to that point thought she was straight. I remember laughing and sharing the joke that every woman is straight until they’re not, telling Bette to go for it. I remember how good the food tasted. It was fresh, clean, and not fast food. I remember her offering seconds, and me consciously declining the offer. After an awkward moment, she asked if I wanted to go for a swim. My not having a suit, her laughing and asking if that mattered. Seeing that she didn’t care, I stripped down to my underwear and dove in. She took off her wrap, a simple but beautiful suit on under it, and walked into the pool. We swam around, then floated, looking at the stars as they started coming out in the growing darkness. I remember realising that this was the most comfortable and calm I had felt in years, possibly ever. The next several hours melted away between deck chair lounging and back floats in the pool. The whole time Bette getting closer to me without touching, small talking and asking about me without interrogating or fishing for answers. Looking back, she was like an animal trainer working with some wounded animal or something. While I probably would have been pissed if I had realised that then, I just remember feeling appreciative of the space she was giving me, the comfort of her not prying, and the slow level of comfort and trust that started that night.