Bette pulls out a cigarette and starts to dig for her lighter.

            “You can’t smoke here and you really shouldn’t smoke anywhere.”

Bette looks up at her sister than down at the pack of cigarettes and sighs, “Right, can I at least have a coffee then? Or have they outlawed that too?”

            “No, thank God. I would prefer not to be arrested today.”       

“But tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is definitely better.”

 Kit studies her baby sister, “I think I will go get you an espresso, you look a little tired. Did you not sleep well last night?” Arching her eyebrow, “were you on a performance high?”

            “Hardly. I have not slept well in a month or so.”

            “Oh baby girl!” Kit wraps her arms around Bette. Her little sister looked so lost and lonely it seemed the only reasonable thing to do. “I am so sorry. I should have been there more for you. What can I do?” She squeezed Bette even harder. “Just tell me what you need.”

            Bette had not been held in a month or so, being that close to someone who cared broke down Bette’s already fragile defenses.

            “Oh, God! I can’t” Bette pulled away from Kit to put a hand over her face, trying to hide from her sister, the patrons, and her mistakes. “I can’t”

            Kit carefully removes Bette’s hand to look her in the eye. She takes both hands and covers them with her own, “Talk to me baby girl. Can’t what? What can’t you do?”

            “I can’t”Bette’s eyes are glassy with unshed tears and her body shakes in despair. She tries to look away from Kit, squirming in her chair like a kindergartener in timeout. Kit takes one hand and places on Bette’s cheek so that Bette is forced to make eye contact.” I can’t,” Bette’s trembling voice is no more than a whisper,” smell her anymore. She is gone. The house. Oh, Kit. I can’t. I can’t live without her.” Bette pulls her head away from Kit to once again shielding her eyes.  

            “Here baby girl,” Kit holding out a napkin.

Bette straightens up and shakes her head. She takes a deep breath and looks up at Kit. “No I’m fine,” her voice returning to normal. She reaches for the pack of cigarettes with an unsteady hand. Her shaking hand now the only sign that Bette was near collapse mere seconds ago. Pack in hand; she slides out a cigarette half way out of the package, then stops, “Right.” She puts the pack back on to the table a little harder then necessary and stares at it. Remembering Kit is watching her, she looks up at her with a smile. A smile that was meant to reassure Kit, but if fact it had the opposite effect. Kit’s brow wrinkles in worry.