Bette was smiling from the time she left work until she arrived at Tinas apartment for dinner. They were eating more meals together these days, feeding each other bits and pieces of their personal histories as they shared food across candlelit tables. As she got out of the car, Bette realized just how much she had come to anticipate seeing Tina at the end of the day. The comfort of Tinas arms, the warm welcome in her smile. Bette looked forward to bringing little details and observations from her life to this beautiful woman, giving them to her like small, intimate offerings.

Tina was such a good listener. She gave Bette her complete, almost relentless attention, and often asked tough, insightful questions that helped Bette puzzle through day-to-day hassles at the gallery or in her other relationships.

Tonight, however, Tina was distracted. Agitated. Bette noticed it from the very minute they hugged in the doorway. There was a certain stiffness in their greeting, a strange far-away-ness in Tinas kiss. At first, Bette attributed Tinas behavior to exhaustion from a long week at work. Her girlfriend had been spending a lot of time on a new project, and Bette figured the endless string of 12 and 14 hour days were finally taking their toll.

How are you, Baby? Bette asked, following Tina into the kitchen to open the bottle of wine she brought.

Good, Tina said, absently tucking her hair behind her ear as she scanned the open refrigerator.

How was work today?

Fine.

Tina selected salad ingredients and carried them to the sink to wash, and Bette watched as Tina turned on the tap and stared, motionless at the flowing water. Something was definitely wrong. Something more than fatigue.

Bette abandoned the uncorked wine bottle and sidled up behind Tina, gathering her in a loose embrace.

Hey, Bette said, her lips close to Tinas ear. Whats going on?

Tina shook her head, focusing her attention on cleaning the vegetables in front of her. Nothing.

Bette reached past Tina to turn off the water. Look at me.

Tina lowered her head, not moving, and Bette gently rested her hands on Tinas shoulders, turning her around. Their eyes locked only briefly before Tina looked away, but even that instant was enough for Bette to see Tina’s eyes, bright with unshed tears.

Please dont shut me out, Bette said, touching Tinas cheek.

Finally, Tina leaned forward, resting her forehead against Bettes. Okay, she said softly.

How about if I pour us each a glass of wine? Then lets sit down and talk.

When they were seated side by side on the couch, Bette picked up Tinas hand and laced their fingers together.

I might need something stronger than this, Tina sighed, taking a sip of her wine.

I can always run out for hard liquor if you need me to, Bette offered.

I told my mother. About us.

Bette almost gagged on her mouthful of Merlot. You came out to your mother?

Well, yeah. I guess, Tina shrugged.

ThatsTina thats a huge step.

I wanted to tell them before I brought you home. But I dont think thats going to be happening for awhile.

Why? They dont like gallery owners?

Tina smiled in spite of herself and tightened her grip on Bettes hand. My father is pretty conservative. When I said I was moving to Los Angeles after college he almost had a stroke. For graduation I got an hour-long lecture about *****, drugs, and rock and roll.

Welcome to Sin City.

I thought Las Vegas was Sin City? Tina countered, arching her eyebrows.

Regardless. You were telling me about your father.

Right, Tina said, taking another drink of wine. So I knew that he would have someissues with the whole ***** thing. But I thought my mother would be more understanding. She even has ***** friends.

***** friends are different than a ***** daughter, Bette said. You dont have to explain your ***** friends at the family reunion or cousin Suzies wedding.

But whether or not Im *****, Im still her daughter, Tina insisted.

I know, Baby, Bette soothed.

Tina was quiet for several minutes. I didnt mean to snap at you. Im justI dont know what I expected.

Bette nodded, thinking back to a cold November afternoon more than a decade before when she had asked herself the same question. It was her freshman year at Yale, a time of intense intellectual rigor and personal discovery. And a time of life-altering consequence. Bette had come to New Haven to distinguish herself as a student and to prove herself worthy of the accolades and scholarships that had been lavished on her by the admissions office. But somewhere in the midst of her academic successes, something very unexpected happened. She fell hopelessly, helplessly in love.

Camille was a sophomore English major. Gorgeous, intense, and brilliant. A chance meeting in the library led to a long, lingering cup of coffee in the student union. Lunch followed. Then late-night talks. And finally, one early October afternoon, as fading autumn light spilled through the windows of Camilles dorm room, they lay together, lost in the dreamy, euphoric bliss of each other, hands and mouths hungry on each others young bodies, finding new meanings for want and need and love.

Bette had known for quite some time that she wasnt compelled by or drawn to men the way her girlfriends seemed to be. Shed had boyfriends all during high school, but no one who reallymattered. Now that shed found Camille, that all made sense. And she wanted to share her epiphany with the person who meant the most to her. Her father. She tried to raise the issue over the phone, during their weekly Sunday night conversation, but after several false, stammering starts, she decided to put everything in a letter.

It took eight drafts and three hours and every bit of courage that she could muster. But when she was finished, Bette was convinced that she had written the best, most impassioned case possible for her fathers support and understanding. She needed to be honest with him”about her feelings, about who she was. Her integrity would allow no less. So she stood at the mailbox, hesitating just long enough to send out a silent prayer, then dropped the letter into the gaping steel mouth.

One week went by without a reply. Bettes letter went unmentioned during the Sunday conversation, and she wondered if perhaps it had gotten lost in the mail. But that Wednesday, she got her response. Bette immediately recognized her fathers embossed linen stationery when she opened up her campus mail box and saw the letter. She pulled out the envelope and hurried back to her dorm room, closing the door and taking a deep breath before tearing it open. She re-read the single sheet a dozen times, but no amount of repetition changed the words”or the message”spread elegantly across the page in her fathers fine script.

My darling Bette. I am glad to hear that your studies are progressing well and that you are making friends. Good luck with your upcoming tests. I look forward to seeing you at Thanksgiving. With love, Dad.

And as she sat at her desk, nearly choking on her own disappointment, she asked herself, over and over, the same question”What did I expect?

Bette exhaled slowly and raised Tinas hand to her lips, kissing it tenderly. You expected her to congratulate you. You expected her to say that she couldnt wait to meet me. You expected her to tell you that she loves you no matter what. You expected the best, because you love your mother and you know that deep down shes a wonderful person who wants you to be happy.

Yes, Tina said, barely audibly.

What did she say?

Sheumshe said a lot of things. Then she told me we as a couple werent welcome in their home. And I said that I wasnt coming to visit without you.

A small, wan smile tugged at the corners of Bettes mouth. Tinas vehemence was both overwhelmingly endearing and, under the circumstances, heartbreaking. And? Bette prompted.

She said theyd miss me at Christmas, Tina blinked back her tears, trying so hard not to cry.

Im sorry, T. Bette drew Tina into her arms, guiding her lovers head to her shoulder, stroking her hair.

Will you stay with me tonight? Tina asked, her voice muffled against Bettes neck.

Of course I will, Bette whispered, holding on tight as she felt the first shuddering sob shake Tinas body.