Bette unlocked the door and entered her quiet home. She walked almost as though she was a voyeur, looking at someone else’s home. It had felt cold and solitary for some time. She thought that she was getting used to it but today it felt overwhelmingly indifferent. She walked to the bedroom and took off the cloths she left Paris in nearly 20 hours go. She turned on the shower and stepped in. The hot water spraying on her tuned her skin pink but the heat on her body was nothing compared to the cold steel her heart felt like. She leaned against the shower wall, resting her forehead on her hands. She was numb to the pulsing hot water coming from the shower head. She was wilting under the strain of her exhaustion. She could barely turn the water off and wrap the large, soft, white towel around her before she collapsed in her bed.

She slept the evening and night away but a phone call at 7:00 am mercifully woke her. She hadn’t set an alarm. Her voice was sleepy. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

“Hi T.” She loved to hear that voice on the other end of the phone.

“You sound awful.”

“You woke me.”

“Oh  God Bette. I’m sorry. I’ll call you later.”

“No Tina, wait. I’m glad you called. How are you?”

“I’m ok. I just hadn’t heard from you for a few days and then I saw Alice at the Planet and she said that you were in London. Were you there on business?” But before Bette could answer Tina interrupted her. “I’m sorry Bette, that is none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked that. Anyway  …  Was it as awesome as when we were there?”

“London is London but, it was a working trip so, no, it was not nearly as good as when we were there together.”

“Did you see any new artists that you liked?”

“Yes, one in particular. I would love to show her work in the gallery. We are going to discuss it. Hey  …  do you have lunch plans?”

Haltingly, “Ah, no, I guess I don’t really have anything firm. Why?”