I look up with a start when I hear and feel the percussion of the front door slamming shut, violently rattling the glass pane enclosed. Standing just inside the entryway is one very wet and fully annoyed Bette Porter. Staring back at me she hisses, Its ***** pouring out there! she drops her bags at her feet and looks back in my direction, Jesus Christ its California not ***** Seattle argh, look at this jacket, damn-it, I think its ruined! She shrugs the jacket off, letting it fall to the floor accompanying the laptop and briefcase. I think those ***** at the car was stole ***** out of my car, I couldnt find my umbrella where I usually keep it. Who the ***** wants to steal an umbrella? I am so NOT tipping those guys next time!

Mildly amused at the scene before me, but not willing to risk the fight that will certainly ensue, I choose not to laugh but instead remain cool and calmly state, So, I take it you didnt pull your messages on your cell.

Blinking wildly at me and giving me that oh so familiar, what the ***** look she flatly states, I didnt get a chance was it earth shattering?

Well, earth shattering is relative, but I did ask you to call me when you were close to the house so I could meet you at the car with your umbrella – the one you left next to the bed this morning. I smile sympathetically and make my way over to her, noticing and reveling in how she now looks more like a drenched puppy than the dripping wet crazed maniac that entered the house just moments ago.

I reach her and gently run my fingers along her forehead, across her temple and behind her ear tucking away several stray strands of wet hair. I rest my hand at the back of her neck where I then pull her toward me in order to reach those pouting lips, and kiss them tenderly before I inform quietly, Its okay babe, really, its only water, and you will dry off – I promise. I smile seductively, and think to myself, Ive got to change her pissy mood here and now or our evening is going to be *****, In fact Ms. Porter, why dont you let me help you. I take her hand gently in mine and lead her to our bedroom while stroking my thumb soothingly across her fingers.

As Bette unbuttons her blouse, revealing her moist skin beneath the wet and clinging fabric I arrive from the bathroom and assist her with peeling the remnants from her body. With a fluffy soft towel I begin to pat the wetness away, placing a gentle kiss at each newly dried patch of skin. I search her eyes, wondering how this is all going over and see them glimmering back. A small crooked smile takes ownership of her lips before she speaks, I think I actually like the rain T.

Really, you didnt sound like to were too fond of it a few minutes ago I tease.

I didnt know you were going to take care of me like this. She grins at me and winks.

Maybe you should come home wet more often and see how I can take care of you. I wink back and watch her eyes widen in surprise at my openly flirtatious comment.

Over the next few minutes I help her out of her soaked suit and into an awaiting robe, See; now you look nice and warm and comfortable, studying her posture I continue, but not relaxed. I again lead her by the hand toward the sitting room, where I have a fire lit in the fire place across from the large over stuffed sofa, Sit, put your feet up and watch the fire while I get us some tea.

Bette follows my directions and takes a spot on the sofa, working herself into a comfortable position. The fire is warm and soothing, the flames flipping and dancing into the air, giving off beautiful glowing yellow, orange and green hues.

I stand and watch from the doorway as Bette tucks her feet beneath her and leans gently into the cushions surrounding her. Her face is aglow from the fire and her eyes dance with the reflection of the flames. I watch her sigh as she begins to release her stress.

Making my way into the room with two cups of hot tea, Did you save some room for me? I ask sheepishly.

Right here honey, sit with me here. Bette pats the cushion next to her and I gently ease myself down taking care not to spill the hot liquid.

Here, its really hot, so be careful and blow first

Interrupting me with a goofy smile and flippant comment, Yes MOTHER, Ill blow and then sip carefully.

Fine, I jokingly pout, and then scold, Its your tongue youll burn, and then youll be sorry.

Hmmm, being contemplative, actually, youll be the one whos sorry

I flash a mocking glare, Cute Porter, very cute!

Bringing the steaming cup to her nose, Bette takes in the aroma, Mmm this smells wonderful, whats in it?

Its something my mother always made for me on exceptionally cold and wet days. Just drink it and let it warm and relax you.

Taking a cautious sip, Bette allows the hot liquid to slide down her throat, warming her core and taking the edge off her mood, Mmm this is so good! smacking her lips a bit, Im tasting honey uh, lemon, another slow sip, cinnamon and I dont know what is it T?

Bourbon.

Eyes wide, Bette almost shouts, Bourbon?! Your mother gave you bourbon?!

Giggling almost uncontrollably Im forced to set my cup down before scalding myself, No ding dong! I got tea, honey, cinnamon and lemon. My father got the bourbon!

Bette too is forced to lower her cup to the table before us as she matches my level of hysteria. We both laugh until tears flow easily down our cheeks, Jesus T, you scared me there for a minute God thats funny. She stares at me for a minute and smiles, I love this about us – I love laughing with you.

I know, still wiping tears from my face, Its like we just get each other – ya know?

Yea, I know. Bette gently pulls me toward her so we can snuggle in front of the fire and listen to the torrent of water pounding against the house and pavement outside.

We sit together for a long time quietly watching the fire lost in our own thoughts as Bette gently and rhythmically strokes my hair and I trace slow patterns along her partially exposed thigh.

T, her soft voice almost startles me, Ive been thinking