The Ones that Matter (11/11) Kate x Betty,
Betty was having trouble continuing to lie to Kate. Well, not lie, but, not be entirely truthful either. She was her friend, she wanted her friendship-that was true. But she wanted so much more. So, she was torn-on the one hand she felt that if she was honest with Kate, even if she assured her that she expected nothing in return, Kate would reject her, or feel uncomfortable being around her, and then she would lose her. But on the other hand, she just wasn’t sure she could pretend anymore.
Kate was having a similar problem. Of course, she had the advantage of being pretty certain that Betty loved her, and would want to share a life with her. She just needed to get past herself…and she felt like she was getting very close to doing so. Not being true to herself, and not being true to her friend, seemed like a bigger sin than anything else she was worried about. How could she deny her true nature? Didn’t God create her this way? And wouldn’t He want her to live as he created her? “Whoever does not love, does not know God,” John 4:8. It was right there. She knew love, and she didn’t think she could ignore it any longer.
She and Betty had continued to go on their picnics each weekend, and, just as predicted, Gladys couldn’t have been happier to be left out. In fact, when Kate had mentioned it, she raised her eyebrows, smirked, and then nestled further down into her chair with her book, saying, ‘Oh, don’t let me stop you, I have complete faith that I can keep myself entertained while you’re gone. And you can certainly use the Packard every single weekend.’ She sounded as if she’d barely suppressed a laugh.
As soon as Gladys had the opportunity to talk to Betty about it, she insisted on calling them “picnic dates,” emphasizing the word dates, with a look of glee on her face. This continued until Betty threatened to sock her, and Gladys decided she was serious about it. At that point she toned it down, stopped giving Betty a hard time, and listened to the bundle of nerves her best friend had once again become. Gladys assured her as much as possible, without actually revealing Kate’s newly accepted understanding of herself, that she thought Kate was interested in more than friendship. Gladys also purposely left them alone for longer and longer periods of time on the nights they went to the Tangiers, and had consequently danced with more unattractive, bumbling men in the last several weeks than in her entire life to that point. But it was worth it every time she glanced over and saw Betty’s head bent toward Kate’s, or Kate leaning her mouth close to Betty’s ear, even though it wasn’t quite loud enough in the bar to make such a move necessary.
One Saturday morning in October, before what they had decided would be their last picnic of the season, given the increasingly cold weather, Kate and Gladys, with Vera soon joining them, arrived at Betty’s house for a “decorating brunch.” Gladys seemed to be doing more eating and drinking than decorating (those things called Mimosas she’d introduced them to were grand), but Betty didn’t much care, as it hadn’t been her idea in the first place. It had actually been Gladys and Kate who’d decided Betty’s house had needed some “sprucing up,” as they’d implied (Kate more nicely than Gladys) that it didn’t look particularly lived in.
Betty thought she could just about die, (of pain, happiness, or wanting, she wasn’t sure) watching Kate hang pictures up in her home, as if she lived there. Every time she finished, she’d turn to Betty with that beautiful smile, and say, “Look all right?” Once, Gladys had responded that no, it did not look all right, because it was crooked, and Betty had sent her a glare that could have sent Mussolini himself hiding under a table. Gladys had missed this entirely, but Kate had seen it. She’d reached over to touch Betty’s arm, with an indulgent smile, and said, “Betty, it is crooked, you don’t need to kill Gladys for saying so.”
Betty laughed, and although she was embarrassed at being caught, she was also thrilled that Kate hadn’t at all seemed put off by her protective nature.
“I wish we had some pictures of us from our picnics,” Kate said suddenly, as Vera and Gladys exchanged an ‘of course you do’ look, “we could have those up too. Or, you could, she added as an afterthought, remembering whose house this really was after a moment, “Maybe today we can take one.”
“All right,” Betty said, hesitantly adding, “I guess it would have to be today, since there won’t be any more picnics this year.”
Kate, of course, had known this was true, they’d both come to the conclusion after last week, given that she’d kept her coat on half the time time, and inched closer to Betty the entire time they were lying on the blanket, just for warmth. Well, not just for warmth, but it was certainly part of it. Nevertheless, hearing Betty say that made her feel like she’d been slapped in the face. She turned back around to the box of pictures so no one would see the tears in her eyes. “I don’t want them to end,” she said quietly.
With that one sentence, the air in the room changed, and both Gladys and Vera immediately felt like they were intruding on a private moment. Vera murmured something to her about how maybe they should get going, and Gladys, ever an architect in this romance of Kate and Betty, announced, in a clearly audible tone, “I think Vera and I are going to head back to the rooming house. It truly sounds like the two of you want some time alone, so I think you should get going with your picnic, and enjoy yourselves.”
“Yes. Thank you. Princess.” Betty said this with her teeth clenched, as if she was angry, but, although she couldn’t believe Gladys had literally just said they wanted time alone…well, she did want time alone with Kate, and if Gladys was willing to get a move on, so that could happen more quickly, fantastic.
It was a testament to how very much Kate did want to be alone with Betty that she didn’t even offer a polite protest to Gladys and Vera leaving. She simply turned and smiled, telling them to drive carefully in Vera’s newly purchased, rattling, Model A. Then she informed Betty she was going into the kitchen to make sandwiches.
Betty watched her, leaning in the doorway. Kate was well aware she was watching, and it made it difficult for her to concentrate. She wondered if Betty was thinking, as she was, how nice it would be if this was her kitchen too, and if making them lunch was just a normal, everyday occurrence. I have to tell her today, she thought. This feeling of contentment, of safety, of love…she wanted it all the time. And she wanted Betty to feel it too. She couldn’t keep ignoring that. It wasn’t fair to her, and wasn’t fair to Betty.
Betty, meanwhile, actually had to turn away from watching Kate, because it felt like someone was squeezing her heart. Damn Gladys and how certain she’d sounded that last time she’d said Kate shared her feelings. Betty was almost starting to believe her. And either way, she didn’t know how much longer she could keep things to herself. But she certainly wasn’t going to tell her now. Maybe next week. Maybe she could get Gladys to leave the apartment for about fifteen minutes, then she could tell Kate, Kate could get upset, and Gladys could come back to comfort her…. Wait, what was she even thinking? Why would she tell her friend something that would upset her so much? Idiot, she thought to herself. She was startled out of her reverie by Kate walking by and touching the small of her back,
“Ready?” She asked, holding up the picnic basket.
“Sure thing,” Betty replied, breathing out, and deciding to rethink her plan later, perhaps when Kate and her lovely eyes and blueberry smelling hair weren’t two feet away from her.
The drive out to their spot was quiet, as they were both lost in their own thoughts. And even as they first started eating the conversation lagged a bit. For Betty, it was a comfortable silence, but for Kate, it was a different animal entirely. She felt like she had a few thousand butterflies skittering around her stomach. She reminded herself that it was just Betty. Her best friend. Her best friend who loved her, and would always be there for her, no matter what. To help calm her nerves a little more, she eventually began talking about her singing at the Tangiers. Always a subject that made her happy, and Betty was probably her number one fan. They spoke about new songs she wanted to try out, and advice Leon had given her.
“Do you ever think you’d want to do that for work?”
“Sing?” it wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about it before, “I don’t know…I think it’s a hard life to try for. And I’m not sure if I’m cut out for it. I love it, but…Betty, you know I’ve lived my whole life on the road, just barely scraping by. I don’t think I’d want that again. I’d rather do what I do now-have a job during the day that’s fulfilling and worthwhile, and then sing at night, once a week or so. I mean, for an audience,” she and Betty smiled at each other, knowing full well that she sang every day, either by herself or in front of friends. “Singing’s fulfilling too, and worthwhile, but in a different way. I like to be able to help people at the hospital, in such a…direct, basic way. I like my life the way it is now. The balance. I wouldn’t want to leave it.”
Betty looked at Kate, thinking of how amazing it was that she was able to say that about herself--her life-- given what she’d felt less than a year ago, when she went back to her father.
“What?” Kate said, smiling and tilting her head in that adorable way she did, noticing Betty’s look.
“Nothing…I’m just, happy for you, is all, that you’re happy with your life,”
“Me too,” Kate replied, and as she said this, she blew into her hands a little, as they were getting cold.
“Do you want my jacket?” Betty asked, sitting up and half taking it off as she asked the question.
“No, no, Betty! Then you’ll be cold! I have an extra blanket in the car for us,” she said, running off to get it before Betty could stop her.
Extra blanket in the car for US? She thought. How is this going to work? She got her answer momentarily, and at least noted that the blanket was huge. However, that didn’t stop Kate from sitting right next to her, and wrapping it around both of them. Betty took the side that was over her right shoulder, so Kate could at least reclaim her left hand.
“This is much warmer,” Kate said quietly.
“Yes..it is. You can have it to yourself if you want though, I’m fine.”
“Betty,” Kate said in a very no nonsense tone, “I can feel you, you’re cold.” She furrowed her brow as she turned to look at her, “Is this…are you uncomfortable?” Kate knew this was over the friendship line, or at least bordering it, being cuddled up in a blanket together, but hadn’t thought Betty would mind. Maybe Betty didn’t love her anymore. Maybe she’d been wrong to have been so confident in that. Maybe Betty wanted nothing to do with her.
Her rising panic was stopped as Betty’s voice cut through her thoughts.
“Am I uncomfortable?” Betty asked, surprised. She then noted that Kate looked hurt, and before she could stop herself, she reached up and tucked Kate’s hair behind her ear, saying softly, “No, I’m not. I just thought you would be.”
“Why would I be?” Kate was trying not to fly away after Betty just touched her hair. It was literally the first time Betty had initiated any kind of physical contact between them in the entire time since she’d be back. She didn’t even realize that her question was slightly ridiculous, given their past, and how careful Betty was about being in Kate’s physical space.
Betty looked at her a little incredulously, almost wanting to laugh, but they were teetering on a much too serious subject for such a thing, “Well…because, we-I...I’m-I’m so close to you. I would’ve thought you wouldn’t want that,” Betty’s voice nearly trailed off at the end, and she no longer felt like laughing.
“But you would?” Kate voiced the implication of Betty’s last sentence.
Betty just looked at her, and then down, afraid to answer. Her silence gave her away anyway.
Kate sighed, “Betty, you know how you said we don’t want the same things, on that first picnic?”
“Yeah…,” Betty drew out the word, not knowing at all where this was going, but already feeling badly, “Why?”
“Well, that hasn’t been true for awhile, if it ever even was in the first place.” She paused, and then, “We do want the same things.”
“I don’t-I don’t understand what you’re saying, Kate. I think-- I must be misunderstanding you.” Right? She must be. And she wasn’t going to make that mistake again. This was too much like, ‘I like you too Betty,’ and then, disaster!
Gladys had made some comment in the last few weeks, about how if Kate ever told Betty how she felt, she was going to have to spell it out. She supposed Gladys was right.
“I don’t think you’re misinterpreting anything. But, if you need me to be blunt, I will be.” Kate took a deep breath, “I am like you, Betty. I like women the way other girls like men. I love them. I love one in particular,” Kate reached up and touched Betty’s cheek, before adding, “You.”
Betty knew she hadn’t heard wrong, but at the same time, couldn’t quite believe she heard right, so all that came out of her mouth was, “You…what?”
“I love you. I’m so sorry for not figuring it out sooner, and for being so awful to you last year. I can never say that enough.” Kate was nearly whispering now, they were so close, “And another thing I can never say enough, Betty McRae, is that I love you.”
Betty was trying not to let Kate see her cry, and therefore was looking down, up, to the side, everywhere she could except at Kate, until Kate finally raised her hand up to her jaw, and turned her so they were facing each other again. Get it together, McRae, your dreams are coming true. Betty laughed, self-consciously, as Kate gave her a gentle and encouraging look, “I, uh, haven’t ever had anyone say that to me before, so… I don’t know what to say. Except that--I love you too.”
Kate beamed, and a few tears of her own fell. She didn’t think she could stop herself from touching Betty’s lips for one more second, so she blurted out, “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” Betty, still not quite believing this, stayed entirely still as Kate leaned in. It was so different from their last kiss, in so many ways.
Kate moaned softly as she pulled away, and then kissed Betty again. She continued to pepper her lips with short kisses as she said, in a thoughtful tone, “This is wonderful. I was so wrong. It’s not disgusting. It’s…the opposite.”
Betty laughed into their next kiss-the fact that Kate was repeatedly kissing her taking away any sting that might have been caused by the memory of the immediate aftermath of their last kiss, “The opposite? And what would that be?”
“Hmmm….delicious?”
Betty had to pull away completely to laugh at that, “Delicious huh?” She leaned in again, “That sounds about right.”
“Can we take that picture now?”
“Now?” Betty asked, “Can’t it wait a few?” Her heart was exploding, and Kate wanted to take pictures.
“Oh Betty, we have the rest of our lives to kiss and be in love and…things. We take the picture now, and every time we look at it we’ll know it was from the moment when we started our life together.”
Our life together? If Kate was going to say things like that, Betty would let her do whatever she wanted. Not that it mattered right now what Betty said, as Kate was already leaning through the window to grab her little camera, and the tripod.
The picture they ended up with was silly, and not perfect, since they kept wanting to lean in and kiss, and Kate was insisting they get a “serious” (i.e. non kissing) picture. They took a few, just in case, and the one that finally ended up on their mantle showed the two of them slightly turned toward each other, looking like they were the two happiest people in the world. Which, considering the afternoon, was just about right.
THE END
Kate was having a similar problem. Of course, she had the advantage of being pretty certain that Betty loved her, and would want to share a life with her. She just needed to get past herself…and she felt like she was getting very close to doing so. Not being true to herself, and not being true to her friend, seemed like a bigger sin than anything else she was worried about. How could she deny her true nature? Didn’t God create her this way? And wouldn’t He want her to live as he created her? “Whoever does not love, does not know God,” John 4:8. It was right there. She knew love, and she didn’t think she could ignore it any longer.
She and Betty had continued to go on their picnics each weekend, and, just as predicted, Gladys couldn’t have been happier to be left out. In fact, when Kate had mentioned it, she raised her eyebrows, smirked, and then nestled further down into her chair with her book, saying, ‘Oh, don’t let me stop you, I have complete faith that I can keep myself entertained while you’re gone. And you can certainly use the Packard every single weekend.’ She sounded as if she’d barely suppressed a laugh.
As soon as Gladys had the opportunity to talk to Betty about it, she insisted on calling them “picnic dates,” emphasizing the word dates, with a look of glee on her face. This continued until Betty threatened to sock her, and Gladys decided she was serious about it. At that point she toned it down, stopped giving Betty a hard time, and listened to the bundle of nerves her best friend had once again become. Gladys assured her as much as possible, without actually revealing Kate’s newly accepted understanding of herself, that she thought Kate was interested in more than friendship. Gladys also purposely left them alone for longer and longer periods of time on the nights they went to the Tangiers, and had consequently danced with more unattractive, bumbling men in the last several weeks than in her entire life to that point. But it was worth it every time she glanced over and saw Betty’s head bent toward Kate’s, or Kate leaning her mouth close to Betty’s ear, even though it wasn’t quite loud enough in the bar to make such a move necessary.
One Saturday morning in October, before what they had decided would be their last picnic of the season, given the increasingly cold weather, Kate and Gladys, with Vera soon joining them, arrived at Betty’s house for a “decorating brunch.” Gladys seemed to be doing more eating and drinking than decorating (those things called Mimosas she’d introduced them to were grand), but Betty didn’t much care, as it hadn’t been her idea in the first place. It had actually been Gladys and Kate who’d decided Betty’s house had needed some “sprucing up,” as they’d implied (Kate more nicely than Gladys) that it didn’t look particularly lived in.
Betty thought she could just about die, (of pain, happiness, or wanting, she wasn’t sure) watching Kate hang pictures up in her home, as if she lived there. Every time she finished, she’d turn to Betty with that beautiful smile, and say, “Look all right?” Once, Gladys had responded that no, it did not look all right, because it was crooked, and Betty had sent her a glare that could have sent Mussolini himself hiding under a table. Gladys had missed this entirely, but Kate had seen it. She’d reached over to touch Betty’s arm, with an indulgent smile, and said, “Betty, it is crooked, you don’t need to kill Gladys for saying so.”
Betty laughed, and although she was embarrassed at being caught, she was also thrilled that Kate hadn’t at all seemed put off by her protective nature.
“I wish we had some pictures of us from our picnics,” Kate said suddenly, as Vera and Gladys exchanged an ‘of course you do’ look, “we could have those up too. Or, you could, she added as an afterthought, remembering whose house this really was after a moment, “Maybe today we can take one.”
“All right,” Betty said, hesitantly adding, “I guess it would have to be today, since there won’t be any more picnics this year.”
Kate, of course, had known this was true, they’d both come to the conclusion after last week, given that she’d kept her coat on half the time time, and inched closer to Betty the entire time they were lying on the blanket, just for warmth. Well, not just for warmth, but it was certainly part of it. Nevertheless, hearing Betty say that made her feel like she’d been slapped in the face. She turned back around to the box of pictures so no one would see the tears in her eyes. “I don’t want them to end,” she said quietly.
With that one sentence, the air in the room changed, and both Gladys and Vera immediately felt like they were intruding on a private moment. Vera murmured something to her about how maybe they should get going, and Gladys, ever an architect in this romance of Kate and Betty, announced, in a clearly audible tone, “I think Vera and I are going to head back to the rooming house. It truly sounds like the two of you want some time alone, so I think you should get going with your picnic, and enjoy yourselves.”
“Yes. Thank you. Princess.” Betty said this with her teeth clenched, as if she was angry, but, although she couldn’t believe Gladys had literally just said they wanted time alone…well, she did want time alone with Kate, and if Gladys was willing to get a move on, so that could happen more quickly, fantastic.
It was a testament to how very much Kate did want to be alone with Betty that she didn’t even offer a polite protest to Gladys and Vera leaving. She simply turned and smiled, telling them to drive carefully in Vera’s newly purchased, rattling, Model A. Then she informed Betty she was going into the kitchen to make sandwiches.
Betty watched her, leaning in the doorway. Kate was well aware she was watching, and it made it difficult for her to concentrate. She wondered if Betty was thinking, as she was, how nice it would be if this was her kitchen too, and if making them lunch was just a normal, everyday occurrence. I have to tell her today, she thought. This feeling of contentment, of safety, of love…she wanted it all the time. And she wanted Betty to feel it too. She couldn’t keep ignoring that. It wasn’t fair to her, and wasn’t fair to Betty.
Betty, meanwhile, actually had to turn away from watching Kate, because it felt like someone was squeezing her heart. Damn Gladys and how certain she’d sounded that last time she’d said Kate shared her feelings. Betty was almost starting to believe her. And either way, she didn’t know how much longer she could keep things to herself. But she certainly wasn’t going to tell her now. Maybe next week. Maybe she could get Gladys to leave the apartment for about fifteen minutes, then she could tell Kate, Kate could get upset, and Gladys could come back to comfort her…. Wait, what was she even thinking? Why would she tell her friend something that would upset her so much? Idiot, she thought to herself. She was startled out of her reverie by Kate walking by and touching the small of her back,
“Ready?” She asked, holding up the picnic basket.
“Sure thing,” Betty replied, breathing out, and deciding to rethink her plan later, perhaps when Kate and her lovely eyes and blueberry smelling hair weren’t two feet away from her.
The drive out to their spot was quiet, as they were both lost in their own thoughts. And even as they first started eating the conversation lagged a bit. For Betty, it was a comfortable silence, but for Kate, it was a different animal entirely. She felt like she had a few thousand butterflies skittering around her stomach. She reminded herself that it was just Betty. Her best friend. Her best friend who loved her, and would always be there for her, no matter what. To help calm her nerves a little more, she eventually began talking about her singing at the Tangiers. Always a subject that made her happy, and Betty was probably her number one fan. They spoke about new songs she wanted to try out, and advice Leon had given her.
“Do you ever think you’d want to do that for work?”
“Sing?” it wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about it before, “I don’t know…I think it’s a hard life to try for. And I’m not sure if I’m cut out for it. I love it, but…Betty, you know I’ve lived my whole life on the road, just barely scraping by. I don’t think I’d want that again. I’d rather do what I do now-have a job during the day that’s fulfilling and worthwhile, and then sing at night, once a week or so. I mean, for an audience,” she and Betty smiled at each other, knowing full well that she sang every day, either by herself or in front of friends. “Singing’s fulfilling too, and worthwhile, but in a different way. I like to be able to help people at the hospital, in such a…direct, basic way. I like my life the way it is now. The balance. I wouldn’t want to leave it.”
Betty looked at Kate, thinking of how amazing it was that she was able to say that about herself--her life-- given what she’d felt less than a year ago, when she went back to her father.
“What?” Kate said, smiling and tilting her head in that adorable way she did, noticing Betty’s look.
“Nothing…I’m just, happy for you, is all, that you’re happy with your life,”
“Me too,” Kate replied, and as she said this, she blew into her hands a little, as they were getting cold.
“Do you want my jacket?” Betty asked, sitting up and half taking it off as she asked the question.
“No, no, Betty! Then you’ll be cold! I have an extra blanket in the car for us,” she said, running off to get it before Betty could stop her.
Extra blanket in the car for US? She thought. How is this going to work? She got her answer momentarily, and at least noted that the blanket was huge. However, that didn’t stop Kate from sitting right next to her, and wrapping it around both of them. Betty took the side that was over her right shoulder, so Kate could at least reclaim her left hand.
“This is much warmer,” Kate said quietly.
“Yes..it is. You can have it to yourself if you want though, I’m fine.”
“Betty,” Kate said in a very no nonsense tone, “I can feel you, you’re cold.” She furrowed her brow as she turned to look at her, “Is this…are you uncomfortable?” Kate knew this was over the friendship line, or at least bordering it, being cuddled up in a blanket together, but hadn’t thought Betty would mind. Maybe Betty didn’t love her anymore. Maybe she’d been wrong to have been so confident in that. Maybe Betty wanted nothing to do with her.
Her rising panic was stopped as Betty’s voice cut through her thoughts.
“Am I uncomfortable?” Betty asked, surprised. She then noted that Kate looked hurt, and before she could stop herself, she reached up and tucked Kate’s hair behind her ear, saying softly, “No, I’m not. I just thought you would be.”
“Why would I be?” Kate was trying not to fly away after Betty just touched her hair. It was literally the first time Betty had initiated any kind of physical contact between them in the entire time since she’d be back. She didn’t even realize that her question was slightly ridiculous, given their past, and how careful Betty was about being in Kate’s physical space.
Betty looked at her a little incredulously, almost wanting to laugh, but they were teetering on a much too serious subject for such a thing, “Well…because, we-I...I’m-I’m so close to you. I would’ve thought you wouldn’t want that,” Betty’s voice nearly trailed off at the end, and she no longer felt like laughing.
“But you would?” Kate voiced the implication of Betty’s last sentence.
Betty just looked at her, and then down, afraid to answer. Her silence gave her away anyway.
Kate sighed, “Betty, you know how you said we don’t want the same things, on that first picnic?”
“Yeah…,” Betty drew out the word, not knowing at all where this was going, but already feeling badly, “Why?”
“Well, that hasn’t been true for awhile, if it ever even was in the first place.” She paused, and then, “We do want the same things.”
“I don’t-I don’t understand what you’re saying, Kate. I think-- I must be misunderstanding you.” Right? She must be. And she wasn’t going to make that mistake again. This was too much like, ‘I like you too Betty,’ and then, disaster!
Gladys had made some comment in the last few weeks, about how if Kate ever told Betty how she felt, she was going to have to spell it out. She supposed Gladys was right.
“I don’t think you’re misinterpreting anything. But, if you need me to be blunt, I will be.” Kate took a deep breath, “I am like you, Betty. I like women the way other girls like men. I love them. I love one in particular,” Kate reached up and touched Betty’s cheek, before adding, “You.”
Betty knew she hadn’t heard wrong, but at the same time, couldn’t quite believe she heard right, so all that came out of her mouth was, “You…what?”
“I love you. I’m so sorry for not figuring it out sooner, and for being so awful to you last year. I can never say that enough.” Kate was nearly whispering now, they were so close, “And another thing I can never say enough, Betty McRae, is that I love you.”
Betty was trying not to let Kate see her cry, and therefore was looking down, up, to the side, everywhere she could except at Kate, until Kate finally raised her hand up to her jaw, and turned her so they were facing each other again. Get it together, McRae, your dreams are coming true. Betty laughed, self-consciously, as Kate gave her a gentle and encouraging look, “I, uh, haven’t ever had anyone say that to me before, so… I don’t know what to say. Except that--I love you too.”
Kate beamed, and a few tears of her own fell. She didn’t think she could stop herself from touching Betty’s lips for one more second, so she blurted out, “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” Betty, still not quite believing this, stayed entirely still as Kate leaned in. It was so different from their last kiss, in so many ways.
Kate moaned softly as she pulled away, and then kissed Betty again. She continued to pepper her lips with short kisses as she said, in a thoughtful tone, “This is wonderful. I was so wrong. It’s not disgusting. It’s…the opposite.”
Betty laughed into their next kiss-the fact that Kate was repeatedly kissing her taking away any sting that might have been caused by the memory of the immediate aftermath of their last kiss, “The opposite? And what would that be?”
“Hmmm….delicious?”
Betty had to pull away completely to laugh at that, “Delicious huh?” She leaned in again, “That sounds about right.”
“Can we take that picture now?”
“Now?” Betty asked, “Can’t it wait a few?” Her heart was exploding, and Kate wanted to take pictures.
“Oh Betty, we have the rest of our lives to kiss and be in love and…things. We take the picture now, and every time we look at it we’ll know it was from the moment when we started our life together.”
Our life together? If Kate was going to say things like that, Betty would let her do whatever she wanted. Not that it mattered right now what Betty said, as Kate was already leaning through the window to grab her little camera, and the tripod.
The picture they ended up with was silly, and not perfect, since they kept wanting to lean in and kiss, and Kate was insisting they get a “serious” (i.e. non kissing) picture. They took a few, just in case, and the one that finally ended up on their mantle showed the two of them slightly turned toward each other, looking like they were the two happiest people in the world. Which, considering the afternoon, was just about right.
THE END