Bette came home after thinking about the lack of laughter in her house when Angelica came out willing to help Bette with the bags. She was immediantly suspiscous…did angie do something? But it was mere kindness…and soon Bette was boring Angelica with little itty bitty details about the food she had just bought. She was just trying to get her mind off the laughing, the love. Bette however was making progress, she was no longer crying in the shower or wandering around wondering what to do. She filled the gaps in her life that once was Tina with hobbies. that was the key….hobbies. Bette’s main hobby was food…obviously. She thought about it, bought cookbooks bought food. And now she was boring her daughter death with it. But she is snapped back to ground zero with Angie’s inquisitive question….”do you thinka bout mom a lot?….i do, but it’s getting easier” Bette didn’t say anything, obviously the statement was a question also….did Bette think about mom? She plunged her hand in the bag and took out tomatoes…”things will stabilize Angelica” Angie was silent for a minute…”but we should talk about this, we should talk about mom, we should talk about things to remember her it feels like we are trying to forget” At this Bette gets impatient, her blood pumps a little faster. For some reason Angelica’s questions and concerns anger her very much, in truth recently she had been wanting to forget Tina. She hated the memories rushing back to her. Hated re-adjusting. Hated the fact that she never got to say goodbye.

 Angelica prods some more……”mom did you even hear me?”  Bette shakes her head, taking out mushrooms now, “i dont want to talk about your mom”   “why not” “because i don’t want to”   “but why??”  Bette slams down a melon on the table, it doesn’t break, “Angie this discussion is over…i said i do NOT want to talk about your mom so drop it ok? just drop it…write something in your journal about it instead and spare me” As soon as the words come out Bette regrets them. Angelica drops the kiwi she is holding and runs to her room, Bette had cut her deeply. She pauses at the table, she knows she is taking out on her daughter. Bette doesn’t understand this anger, but she reaches down and picks up the dropped kiwi. She wipes her hands and thinks again how laughter has been so absent. Bette walks down the hallway to try and make amends with her daughter, who is probably having an equal time of misery. She is going to try and talk, really talk to Angie. Bette knows eventually things will be better…time does not heal pain, it only numbs it so people can go on without crying.