“Well Porter.” Alice folded her arms and jutted out a hip.

“Well what?” Bette was still transfixed by how beautiful Tina looked. And how comfortable she looked laughing and chatting with her ex-boyfriend.

“Well, go do something.” Alice gave Bette a small shove, even though her arms were still folded, the motion almost throwing her off balance.

Bette turned to her eager friend. “No.”

“What?”

“No. Tina knows where I stand and what I want. I’m not going over there.”

“You stand by yourself.”

Bette raised an eyebrow at her friend.

“You be the big cheese; you stand alone.” Alice grabbed her coffee. “I’m going to go say hi to the happy couple.”

Bette’s frustration level was rising to where there were almost growls coming from her throat. What made it worse, when Alice joined Eric and Tina, the three seemed to be having a grand time.

No, Bette thought. That didn’t make it worse. That just made it bad. What made it worse was Alice gesturing over to Bette. Now she had no option but to wave and feign a smile. Then came plan B. Walk over, or walk out.

Walk out was getting a great deal of votes from the pounding in her head. Somehow, though, Tina looked so beautiful. Bette let out the breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding.

She had to walk over. She’d be damned if Helena Peabody, Eric, or anyone got a chance at Tina without her at least pleading her case.

“Bette, what a surprise.” Eric, being the gentleman that he always pretended to be, stood as she approached.

The two of them locked hands in something akin to a death grip, until Bette decided that she really didn’t want to make the man cry. Again.

And she knew that she shouldn’t be taking any joy in the fact that once, she did actually see him cry. But, at this moment, Bette was going to savor a victory wherever she found it, even if it was seven years in the past.

She had never told Tina about the night that Eric came to the gallery.

While she liked to imagine that it was a dark and stormy night, as that played to Bette’s sense of the melodramatic, she really had no idea what the night was like. Except that it was late, and she was setting up for a new artist’s showing, and she found that most annoying as it meant that she wasn’t going to see Tina that night.

Tina. Just the sound of the name brought a smile to her lips.

How could one woman get so much inside of her heart in such a short time? In every other relationship Bette had felt a sense of distance, of superiority to her partners. And every other relationship she knew was just transitory.

But now, now there was Tina. The woman around whom all of her thoughts revolved.

The woman who made her, Bette Porter, feel like enough of a mushball to write poetry, and love poetry at that.

The only prior forays into love poetry were taken when Bette was approximately ten, and those were written to her fourth-grade teacher. Those poems merited a note home and a conference with Melvin and the teacher.

Now, now she found herself not just writing poems, but leaving them in places like Tina’s purse, or Tina’s pocket. Something where Tina would find the words at an unexpected time, and maybe, just maybe, have one extra thought in the day for Bette.

As much as she enjoyed her thoughts drifting to Tina, and as often as it seemed to happen recently, Bette knew that just sitting in her office, thinking, with a goofy grin on her face was not going to complete the installation any faster.

And she did need to complete the installation tonight, as she had special dinner plans, and after-dinner plans for the following night. Then, the night after that would be the opening.

A busy week, but one, she hoped, that would prove well worth the effort on the personal as well as artistic fronts. A week that included more Tina.

Back to the gallery, and back to rushing around. When the door rang she expected it would be the extra help she had hired to complete the installation. She hadn’t expected Eric.

But there he was, his face screwed up in a combination of anger and sadness. Tina had said that she was going to talk to him – but she hadn’t told Bette it would be tonight.

Tina. Bette’s thoughts went immediately back to Tina.

“We’re closed, Eric.”

“We need to talk, Porter.” He pushed his way past Bette and entered the gallery.

When he turned to face her, he had tears in his eyes. “Why?”

Ok, now what did Tina say, Bette wondered. “Why what?”

“You know damn well what. Tina.” Eric squared himself, as if ready to take a blow. “You get enough of my ***** money. Why’d you have to go for Tina, too?”

Bette contemplated stepping back, walking away. But she stayed. She would have this out with him. She needed to, for Tina’s sake. If he was angry, then she would be the target for that anger. Otherwise, he’d take it home with him, and who knew what he’d already done there.

“What did she tell you, Eric?”

“Some ***** about love. That she loves you. That she’s leaving me. What did you do to her?”

Bette said nothing.

“C’mon Porter. She might not know your reputation, but I’ve heard it enough. Maybe that’s why I’ve always respected you.”

“Reputation?”

Eric started pacing. “You know. Bag ‘em, tag ‘em, and release ‘em.” He turned and pointed at Bette. “What’s the usual? One month? Two?”

“Eric, I don’t think this is the proper time to discuss this.”

“The ***** it’s not.” Eric took a step closer to her and then stopped himself. He dropped his hands to his side, fists clenching and unclenching. “And what about when you drop her. When she ceases to be your new plaything. What then? Am I supposed to take her back, continue as if she didn’t take her walk on the wild side?”

Although the words were hurtful, Bette recognized that this is how an outsider could have viewed her past relationships. Her relationships with women were, generally, brief and, in the end, unsatisfying. At least, that’s how they had been before.

“Eric, I am sorry that this affects you.”

“So you do have a heart, Porter.”

“I can’t explain it, but with Tina, with Tina and I, it is different.” There, the truth, for all the good that it might do her.

Eric slumped against a wall, and slid down to a seated position, head buried in his arms. His shoulders moved with soundless sobs.

Bette just stood watch and waited. If only he could understand that this wasn’t sport for her. If he could know how surprised she was at the depth of feeling she’d developed in such a short time for Tina. This was one relationship that would not be over in a month or two. This was real.

“Bette?” Eric’s voice was quiet, much of his anger gone.

“Yes?”

“Promise me. Promise me this isn’t just a fling for you. Promise me that you love her.”

Bette paused, but she knew she had just one answer. “I love Tina.” There they were. The words she’d yet to speak to herself, let alone to tell the blonde woman who had captured her heart and soul.

Eric worked his way off the floor. “I will hold you to this.” He brushed himself off. “If you ever hurt her, Porter.”

Bette lowered her head. If she ever hurt Tina, what a thought. As if she could consider that as a possibility. “I understand.”

Eric rushed at her. Bette tried to raise her arms to a defensive position, but it didn’t matter as he quickly wrapped her in a massive, tight hug. “Ok. Ok, then.”

And with that, Eric turned and left, leaving a stunned Bette behind.

It was several minutes before Bette had drawn her senses together enough to call Tina, and ensure that Tina was ok. All during the installation, all Bette could think of was Tina, and how much they’d yet to discuss, to say to each other.

When they talked, Tina was upset. Understandably. Bette wished she had been given some warning that these were Tina’s plans for the day. But at the end of the phone call, Bette said the only thing that she could, the thing that she knew was right. “I love you, Tina.”

Now, in the present, she again found herself in physical contact with Eric. “You made a promise to me once, Porter,” Eric whispered under his breath.

Bette dropped her grip. A look of pain flashed through her eyes, and she hung her head lower.

With that, Bette turned and left. Another promise shattered. Another way in which she had failed Tina.

At the table, a surprised Tina just watched Bette walk away, her gaze drifting between Eric and Bette, wondering what had just happened.

For Alice, this is when it all became awkward, even for her. “If you’ll excuse me.” And she rushed off to be somewhere, anywhere, else.

And then it was again the two of them. “Eric, what was that about?”

“It was private.” He seated himself at the table. “So, if you don’t mind, can I ask you a huge favor?”

Tina’s eyes narrowed at his selection of adjectives.

“Now, now. I wasn’t making any pregnant woman jokes. Really, this is something that could help me.”

“And this isn’t that pregnant woman fetish.”

“Two favors?” Eric saw the flash of annoyance through Tina’s face. “Just kidding. No, actually. It’s a bona fide favor.”

“Okay.” She leaned forward a little. “I’m listening.”

(hmmwhat kind of favor could it be?)