Sometime during the course of the night, Tina had ended up in her usual spot in bed.  She lay next to Bette, her face just inches from her partner’s.  Tina stared at her in the early light of dawn as if she were seeing her for the first time.   The night before, she had crawled in behind a distraught Bette and wrapped her in her arms.  Her lover had never been as lost or vulnerable.  It was a different side to her and though it was unexpected, it was very much welcomed.  As she yawned quietly, Tina thought that this was what had been missing in their relationship.  Bette had always worn a tough exterior, allowing no one to see the things that deeply troubled, worried, and bothered her.  Not even Tina had been privy to the inner workings of Bette’s mind and they had shared a bed and a life for seven years.  It had been impossible to break the façade of a woman who was always together, who could show anger and frustration, but could never express doubt or insecurity.  This crisis they were in demanded that the hard shell be broken.  Tina wasn’t sure what to make of everything she had learned. 

Bette’s mother, the parent Bette seldom mentioned had committed adultery.  Apparently, Melvin had been devastated and poor Bette, a mere child had been obviously shaken by it.  Now, Tina understood why Bette treated her father so tenderly despite his gruffness.  Bette was a caretaker and had been doing it all of her life.  Tina wondered what price that role had taken on Bette’s psyche.  She thought about how Bette was more of the older sister to Kit than vice versa, how she was the one in control in their own marriage, and how she was a force to be reckoned with at work.  When had Bette ever allowed herself to be taken care of?  Was that what drove her to that woman?  Could Bette really not find what she needed with Tina?

Bette’s face was no longer etched with worry, her brows relaxed in sleep, and her closed eyes didn’t show the tears that, as Tina recalled were always present, but only twice shed in the past few months.  Tina’s hand moved to Bette’s face and she lightly caressed the wavy tendrils that flowed over her forehead.  Bette stirred, but didn’t awaken letting Tina enjoy this quiet time of reflection.  She rested her hand on the sheet between their faces and continued to stare.  Bette was struggling with the adultery and not wanting to be the woman her mother had been.  That was something Tina could forgive.  But Bette still had to change.  She had to free herself for them to start again.