After hearing the doorbell Bette bent down to pick up the fallen cup, the rim had broken and some pieces of glass scattered the fridge end of the room.  Bette swiped
these farther away with her foot and quickly trottd to the door. When she opened the door it took Bette about ten seconds to absorb who was standing before.

 The girl…the woman…was wearing wife-beater under an open black hoodie..some black pants, black steel-toed boots, dark frizzy hair tied back, bronze skin..beautiful
bronze skin, gaunt..a sharp collarbone, sallow but still beautiful face..like a young Tina, dark bruise-like sumdges under each eye..obviously sleep-deprived, very skinny, but
obviously strong, sinewy. Bette looked into her eyes. So black Bette couldn’t see the pupils. what did she see in those eyes? Exaustion. Not just tired from walking or whatever…her
daughter looked tired from life. Bette remembered to close her hanging jaw. Angelica opened her mouth, there was the faintest cut on her chin…”can i stay here for awhile?” Angie’s
voice sounded different…older, strained, but had the undercurrent of strength. Bette nodded, she stepped aside…and Angelica came in. She smelled so strong…Bette could
detect sweat, old clothes, and a little bit of grease on her daughter. Bette closed the door. The silence was deafening…silence could be hear sizzling in the background. Angie
shuffled her feet then pointed somewhere behind her..”my stuff..i put it in the shed if that’s alright?” Bette shook her head..”i’ll get it later, you don’t have to stuff it in there, this is your
home” Nobody said anything. Bette wondered if this was Angie’s home any longer, did her daughter feel at home? Bette motioned to the table…”come and sit down Angie” She
saw as her daughter walked over to the table and sat down, her body was long and angular, bones sticking out this way and that. Bette went into the kitchen and came out with
two cups, both filled with lemonade. she placed it in front of Angelica. Angie looked like she was visiting a stranger’s house. Bette thought how weird it must be for her. Bette herself
was suprisingly calm, probably later she’ll have a heart attack but at this moment she was keeping it together. Bette’s composure seemed to strengthen Angelica too..and as Bette
sat down angelica shifted in her seat and Bette could feel her daughter gaining strength emotionally. First there were a few sips of lemonade, like both of them wanting to recupreate, to
think of what to say before the talking started. They were getting re-aquainted with each other’s presence. Bette with how Angie looked so much older, maybe wiser..certainly
calmer. Angelica with how Bette seemed to grow younger, there were more crows feet and lines by her mouth..but Bette looked healthy, pretty…and very much in her element.
It was Angelica who spoke first…