Bette opens the door and immediantly knows she’s wanted. For one, Angelica does not yell at her to get the ***** out. And two, she’s sobbing on the bed and Bette had never seen her child cry without trying to hide it from her. So Bette enters the room, which is disturbingly messy, and sits on the side of the bed where she always sits…and touches her daughter’s hair. Almost a second later Bette is on the bed beside Angelica trying to breathe, Angie is hugging her so hard Bette has a little trouble getting air. Besides that, it felt wonderful for her girl to seek comfort from her. So Bette doesn’t say anything, and instead over Angelica head looks at the room which had changed dramatically in the past few weeks. the shelves, once impeccably organized were now littered with books and paper, the floor cluttered with clothing and bits of paper…Bette couldn’t even look at Angelica’s desk. Afraid she would ruin the moment by commentating on how the room must be cleaned sometime Bette leans back onto the bed so Angie’s head rests on her shoulder. She really likes that nothing had been said yet, soemtimes were words were really crappy. But just as Bette is slowly nodding off her daughter’s voice breaks the silence, it is slightly stuffy sounding but relatively calm…a curious but reisgned tone.

“mom….your turning into a food addict”  Bette sputters, the absurdity of the question breaks the tension of why Angelica was crying in the first place. “what are you talking about?” Bette asks, turning aronud on her side so she leans on her elbow and looks down at Angie, who llies onh er back playing with a piece of lint. “well…..your’re always shopping, and storing, and making meals but not eating them , i mean my waistline….and…i saw your scrapbook…” Bette closes her eyes..oh no Angie found the book. In her spare time Bette had taken to cutting out pictures of meals and gluing them in a spare scrapbook Bette had found, she found the entire procedure comforting. the cutting, the sound of the cutting, the gluing, stickiness on the paper, the pasting…flipping through the book feeling satisfied. But Bette didn’t want her daughter to know, but sighing she smiled…”it’s just mommy’s coping strategies”   “oh…ok…..”  “Angelica i’m sorry for taking it out on you, im sorry i ahven’t been more available”  Angelica sticks her lower lip out, pouting, trying to make light of the situation. “yea no problem, it just really sucks   “yea i know, it sucks…..how are the painting classes?”   “mom how do women have ***** with each other? The question catches Bette off-guard. Where  the ***** did that come from? “well….it’s the usual stuff, oral, hugging, kissing, friction, fingers, but with no ***** and-”  “ok ok ok ok i heard enough” Agnie squeals and plugs her ears…Bette laughs but frowns alos, now where did that question come up? Angleica had never professed interest in anything ***** except the make-up of drag queens during the annual ***** Pride Parade. The ice seemed to have thawed a bit though and Bette relaxes a little more on Angelica’s small bed.  “i miss mom”  Bette rubs Angel’s shoulder….feelings begin to rush but she  makes an effort to stem so many, so many many unresolved feelings. ” i know Angie…i do too”  Angelica turns away from Bette puts the blanket over her, as if signaling that this conversation was over. Bette feels like a fish, grappling….she touches Angelica’s shoulder and whispers goodnight, her daughter nods in response. Never had she felt more inadequate. It was so hard to communicate with another sometimes, to reach someone. Bette wondered as she managed to hold on to a relationship with Tina for all those years. Bette gets up from the bed and walk to the door…..her daughter calls out and Bette turns,  she would always be here…she resolved to always be there for her baby girl.   “mommy… with all that your going through, because you loved mom….since we’re all going to die and it isn’t fair that one passes away before the other, is it worth it? i mean to love someone and have them pass away without closure or anything like that, to see them suffer?”   Bette is hurt, but touched at how honest Angelica is. She swallows back the burning in her throat…” what your asking is if love’s worth it….yes Angel, it’s the best thing that can ever happen to a person”