7:08 a.m., Outside Alices Apartment

The dealings of the day turned out a bit more bearable when Tina finally found time to wake up. She hurried down the steps with her gym bag in hand and her earphones slavering out from her ears as she stuffed her body in my Mini. She was still fidgeting with her earphones when she put both hands on her lap and said, Okay. Im all set.

We both didnt bother to comment on the open door to the garage. However, I did do a small imitation of a monk trying to get all the energies of the day to synchronize. Breathing in, my shoulders loosening, I tried to overlook the big, unforgettable fact that three articles were waiting to be lynched by my editor in just over an hour.

Sighing and deliberately letting my patience slip, I started the car and drawled as I blew into my hands, Its seven; I get my lazy ***** out of bed at six, take a frigid bath at approximately the same time, and you let me suffer in my sub-zero Cooper to do what?

Tina, her eyes innocent and endearing to get me to soften up, said, Breakfast with Shane and Dana?

Too cute. I can definitely understand why Bette, that elusive top, would want Tina beneath the curvaceous supremacy of her A-type habits. Unfortunately for me, Bettes wife was slowly, if not surely, mutating into something else in my apartment.

Definitely not a monster, was it? Surely, she was turning into someone who had complete hegemony over her time; she was becoming the idle practitioner of tardiness. And it wasnt the air, was it? Where had I put that last piece of pot?

I risked a few seconds of studying her and smiled beneath the playful way my lips settled. This was a definite oscillation from whatever ground she had started from at Bette Porters Gallery some seven, eight…I really try to remember -years ago.

Shanes work on her hair indicated not just the alterations Tina had undergone since Bettes slip-up, but Shanes stealthy worship of this human being, changed dramatically in just over three days.

Tinas hair slipped past her cheeks not with the shyness of a delicate force, but with the razor-sharp coyness of a woman who knew the blithe instinct of panache. She would have easily found herself in a self-satisfying suit, coiled in all that formality, if not for the charming way she smiled. Either that, or shed simply carry her clothes the way she wore every-day pastels, making everyone, including myself, respond respectfully and fondly to the maternal earth that was she.

At that particular moment in my Cooper, that was what she was: bright with the violence of a tide that could at any moment, be provoked; soft in the assurance that every word uttered in her presence was really, justification for growth.

Shanes crush on her, however veiled, was beginning to rub off on me. Vulnerability here had its origin in that poise, which power displayed when supremely confident.

Suddenly, I was afraid to speak, a minor glitch in the progress of the day.

The pivotal points in anothers life were things I often lifted to the plane of humor; I liked savoring their entirety in cruel bliss. But here I was, gathering the moment -Tinas moment, like it was my own, without the neurosis of a modest, uninterested laugh.

I was definitely shushed into thinking about all the negatives that put Tina in my hurry-in, hurry-out apartment and not at her posh West Hollywood home where the furniture owned a profound feeling of history. The table where friends got together, the refrigerator everyone stuffed their faces with, the couch where everyone threw comments that would make anyone with sensible morals blush.

Bette was definitely going to receive a whole lot of things at ten oclock today, all exacerbated by that editor without a nose for lesbians. Well, my lesbians anyway, who love to the point of merging, connecting, collecting endlessly.

There I went; my thoughts running off again when Tinas voice brought me promptly back to the situation at hand.

Hey, Im sorry if I scrambled your sched, Alice, she was saying, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Im also sorry about the deadlines. Im sure itll pull through and if you dont receive a promotion, youll at least be alive.

Ha-ha, I said.

She caught the mockery there with a sensitivity that I found forever appealing. There was an overabundance of reasons I had approved of her other than Bettes unassailable awe. Since then, that more-than-awe had become a staple in our groups of friends.

Where that awe went for Bette, I havent a clue. Id better find out at Bills later or I was definitely going to come loose; there were reasons that a kiss -no, two kisses -at Danas front door could convince me that I was crazy. Was I in awe? Was I floating on a cloud of Dana surplus?

Tinas sensitivity suddenly came back in full force.

Alice, I was kidding, she said, deadpan. She had turned from her seat, straining against her seat-belt. And you look like youre about to barf; are you okay?

Yeah. Definitely.

A shadow of uncertainty must have crossed my eyes because she said, You arent telling me something. Wisely, I remained silent and Tina leaned back against her seat. Look, Im fine with not having breakfast with the two. If its going to make you uncomfortable, better not.

I was surprised at her ability to read me so quickly; but I was also afraid that shed wasted time on details. It wasnt likely that Shane had anything to do with my discomfort and Dana, wellDana was Dana and we all knew that intense relationships curried by a frequent desire for catfights, however friendly, made great soaps.

So, as the great actress I was, I looked at her askance and said, No, were not doing that. They want to see you and even if one of them doesnt want to see me, Im inclined, like Pilate, to hand you over.

Tina was slowly becoming aware that I was trying to speak an entirely different language. In order to be misunderstood, to not be read so damned easily, to simply change the subject!

Smart, annoying girl that she was, she continued as though I hadnt said a word, I know I havent been there for you guys lately but I think I deserve to know whats really going on.

I blew through my mouth, strands of blond hair floating across my face. It obscured Los Angeles in a very metaphorical way.

I decided to give Tina something to look forward to instead of making a fool of myself by telling her everything in the span of ten minutes. Tell you what; after the Planet Ill drop you and Dana off at the gym, say around eleven-thirty or so? God, my hours are just so planned today, its disgusting. Anyway, Dana needs someone to pump much-needed motivation into her system.

And you think Im qualified?

Certainly more than I am, I muttered coherently, aware that Tina already had more than an inkling of what exactly was going on.

Well talk about this later, she said, as I parked the Mini in front of the Planet. Marinas cohorts were only just beginning to set up sunshades outside, the potted plants moving to a steady wind.

Sure. Well do that, I told Tina. Ill stay right here while you, my pet, get me a bagel and some coffee. Gotta rush to the office. I made a majestic gesture towards the counter inside. Go, slave! Ive got an appointment with fate.

Tina gave me an encouraging smile that stood opposed to her revolted expression. Youre beginning to remind me of those corporate types Id hate to be. In fact, you even look it.

I know, I sigh melodramatically, making a show of fixing my collar. I snap back to attention and imperiously point a finger to the front door. Now silence and get me that bagel. Nobody wants to deal with a hungry Alice, especially an Alice with an editor who cant decide if he loves her writing or loves the way she sucks up to him. Or both.

I caught a glimpse of Shane through one of the glass panes, her clothes a testament to freedom of expression and the incomprehensible sense of a deconstructed world. An urge to label, to put her at one pole or another, came with every glance of her but this time, it was the figure seated opposite to her, covered slightly by her, and dressed conservatively when compared to her that leaped to the forefront of every discourse in my brain.

With Tina entering the Planet, the whole body of intimate friends, instinctively looked outside to see the transmitter of good news.

I waved as Shane raised a mannish gesture of hello. Dana avoided any sign of intimacy and was satisfied to smile briefly before kissing Tinas cheek. In that brief moment, Tina turned to me and there in her eyes was the mediator: she blew me a kiss in hiding, as though packaging Danas lips, once on her cheeks, for swift delivery on mine.

Waiting for bagels while lying exposed like a museum piece in front of the Planet was probably the most excruciating thing Id done that morning. I tapped my fingers impatiently against the wheel as Tina did as I had commanded, glancing from time to time to see if Dana was at all interested at the way the Cooper had been waxed and polished.

Eventually, without any concrete observations, Tina reached out from the window across the passenger seat and handed me my breakfast.

Thanks Tina, I said, my actions hurried as I released the hand-break.

No problem. Tina smirked, giving Dana a furtive glance. So there really is something you arent telling me.

Save it. Ill tell you all the gory details after I get butchered at work.

Great. I cant wait. Tina patted the Coopers roof twice, bidding me good-bye as I gratefully drove away.

~*~*~*~

10:13 a.m., Bills Car Works

Bills place resided in a part of town that blew with the increment of uncertainty, in a city toppled and rebuilt along the margins of race, production, gender. His was a building almost red from the rust corroding on windows, pipes, signs of commerce long departed. But inside, as with anything twice removed from society, was a place endeavoring to simply be, to be accepted as an honest business in a less-than-honest place in town.

My upholstery had nothing to do with my being here.

A glimpse at Bettes dark blue convertible, the memory of some very scathing comments on the part of my editor, and a glance of that special someone just three hours before, all coagulated into this moment of complete and utter confusion. I didnt know if I was coming here for Bette or for myself.

Either way, I wasnt one to just back out of any situation. Seeing as I entered Bills, that old Bill himself was talking to Bette, all grubby and greasy and at ease, I had nothing to be afraid of, really. Except Bettes inquisitiveness and a stolid, irritating act when she didnt want anybodys help.

Bill and Bette were located at the makeshift loft Bill had built of wood. He had built it specifically to put where his personal life was, closer to work. I clambered up the steps, hearing Bettes voice echo with the mirth of a less-than-efficient laughing machine.

I poked from the stairwell. Well, Alice. Its been a long time, Bill said, turning to greet me. He inclined his head and stole a peek out of his spacious garage. And I see both of you have been doing well.

Bettes chortle, coming from her throat as though it hadnt been oiled in a while; her wide smile infectious to the point of humorous creation on my part, was all I needed to finally come up behind Bill and place a hand on his shoulder. The whole set up had a coffee shop flair to it and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate lay half-consumed on the table in front of them.

Writing gibberish will get you anywhere, Mr. Delaney, I said. And it will certainly get you a Mini Cooper. I dont know about Saab convertibles, though. You can ask Bette about that.

The dark tones of Bills skin only served to lighten his smile all the more. His smile was gentle in the way his hands were against the gears of a car: filled with practical knowledge and just the right amount of fondness. Bette was just telling me about her latest adventures at the gallery. You sit right here, and Ill go get you people something nice to munch on. Then maybe you could tell me all about the work you do for the magazine.

Oh, no, no, no Bill. Not today. I was minced and my articles published with barely a hint of me in them.

Bill laughed, his steps emphasized by the click of his boots against the metal of the stairway.

You wont escape this time, he said, disappearing beneath.

Dont forget to wash your hands, Bill, Bette called, still smiling then eventually forgetting to do so when I finally took the chair Bill emptied, putting my sizeable handbag between us as a cautionary measure.

Do you want that? I asked, pointing at Bettes mug.

Go ahead.

I obliged myself, reaching out quickly to the mug at the other side of my handbag and chugging its contents down with gratitude. The sugar began its quick, insidious rush. Licking my lips, I fixed my handbag as though there was a perfect way it had to sit on the table.

Youre nervous, she said, as I touched it again.

Tell me something I dont already know.

Bettes expression hadnt changed, blank and hiding in every line of worry, wrinkle of distress, and pruning hostility.

She replied, How about, youre here to scream your head off and tell me how I could be so ***** stupid?

Actions stopped and my hands fell limp on my lap. Bette, you know me better than that. Disappointment found its way to my voice and Bette snatched her gaze from mine to stare obliquely at the gutted pick-up truck below us.

I continued at a lighter tone, Listen, Im here for you, okay? I, Alice, am here for you, Bette. My hands gesticulate in the I, Tarzan; you, Jane formula.

She didnt reply and I grabbed the handbag in front of us, placed it terminally against the ledge, and ***** it if Bette rushed over the table and strangled me.

Look, we both know you did something wrong. But there areways to make things right. I looked at her from beyond my trickling blonde hair, the glint in my eye shining like a cursed pearl just waiting -no aching, to be stolen.

What are you saying? Bette queried, positioning her body as though she was about to be hit by a truck. Or a car. Or by my enviable wit.

Okay, Im not saying that theres an overnight solution to this whole dilemma but

Alice, Alice. Wait. Youre jumping way ahead of me here.

Thats my job, I said, clearly irritated now.

I know its your job, Alice. Her emphasis on my name made me let go of all the potted breath I had for that moment of truth. I just cant say Im ready yet.

For reconciliation? How could you not be? I asked, my voice rising steadily in pitch.

I was also increasingly curious as to why she wasnt sparring with me in the dreadful way I had expected. My handbag was for now, completely forgotten and courage was at an all-time high.

Bette, shes your wife.

Her admission came slowly, with a bitterness belied by the subtle crimson around her eyes; minutiae that I hadnt noticed the first time I came in. Iwas with Candace last night.

You were with whom? I exclaimed, my hands at the edge of the table as though I could thrust my whole body into flying. Are you crazy? Why are you still with thatthat, I wont even bother with a justifiable description!

Dont, Bette said, softly and with as much good sense as I couldnt give her credit for.

Her calmness, her exquisite attempt to admit her fault, to be honest in the way she had not been for quite a while, pulled me back down to my chair and made me breathe the immediate significance of her pain. It appalled me, that instead -sitting opposite to her, seeing her in a light quite unlike the passionate, mobile in love, immobile in strength that was Bette Porter -she was dealing with pain and not succeeding at all.

Thawing had never been as easy for me then and I reached out from over the table to gather her limbs into a warm, unconditional embrace. She was unyielding at first, but she eventually emptied some of her tears on my blazer and was hiccupping in an attempt to stop crying.

Im sorry, I whispered, stroking her hair, breathing in her scent, moist with grief. Im sorry. God, I should really be a better friend. Im just terrible. Im sorry.

You already are, Bette murmured. A better friend, she clarified, pulling herself together as quickly as she had broken down. She smiled clumsily before I pulled out a handkerchief from my then useful handbag to allow her some form of saving grace.

Just look at me, Im a terrible wife, she added, chuckling in self-derision.

Dont say that, I said softly, rubbing her back.

Ive got some things that have to be attended to in the CAC andIm sorry I cant connive some ingenious plan with you.

Oh no, Bette Porter. You will conspire with me. Be it flowers or chocolates or the most romantic evening in the history of the lyric. I looked at her pointedly. And you will conspire now, today, and not later. So please, get yourself seated and well start where we should have started.

You arent serious One frown from me and she offered her surrender by sitting. And where exactly were we supposed to start?

With all the right questions, Bette. All the right questions.

I winked at her, gave her a last squeeze, and attempted to do again, what shed completely missed in the beginning. We both sat silent for a moment, before I drew a breath and started the narrative that I was sure Bette wanted a part of, yet could not write as yet.

So the story went, and as I talked about Tina Kennard, I saw all the right missives from the veritable Bette Porter. First came uncertainty, then protectiveness, then a real, concerned determination to do what was right.

I knew that in many ways, half the plan was already accomplished, though so many things were still left unsaid.

~*~*~*~

(To Be Continued)