Chapter 18
Later that night, Bette went to her back door for a second time to check it was locked. It wasn't until she had been left alone in the apartment earlier that she realized she had never lived alone. In her whole 47 years of life, she had always had someone there. Her mother, her roommate in college, Shelly, then her mother again.
The silence was loud. Like trumpets were playing in every corner of the place. It didn't take long before she had plugged her laptop in and pulled up YouTube to have background noise. Anything to stop the overwhelming feeling of the walls closing in on her. She knew it was just first-time jitters, but at her age and maturity, she was shocked at how just being alone was so jarring.
The door was locked just like it was before. She had yet to put a curtain over the window in the back door, and she noticed the flickering flames of a small fire further into the backyard. A tall, wooden fence enclosed the backyard, making it feel like its own little private slice of secluded paradise.
She could just make out Kerrie sitting in a lawn chair. Curiosity piqued, she decided to go see what her new neighbor was doing. She didn't want to be alone, and spending time with Kerrie sounded much better than worrying herself to an early sleep.
Grabbing her robe from the back of her bathroom door, she slipped the soft cotton robe over her simple light purple cotton nightgown and stuffed her feet into well-worn house shoes. A high-end name brand she doubted she'd be able to afford to replace once they finally bit the dust. She paused briefly to brush back a few wild wisps of hair.
The day had cooled off, the heat disappearing with the sun only to be replaced with the comfortable coolness of night. The half-moon above was unobstructed and seemed to match the brightness of the lampposts on the street, yellowy and a stark contrast against the blackened night.
In the chaos of the day, Bette never noticed the little firepit when she was moving in. As she approached, she realized that it was a nice patio spot tucked into the back part of the yard. Its foundation was made of sturdy red brick and was decorated with surprisingly high-quality furniture. The brown wicker furniture was boxy with bright blue cushions, and the fire pit in the center was a round drum with gate-like fencing. It was so inviting, it may as well have been waving her over.
"Do you care if I join you?"
Kerrie jumped at Bette's voice and then chuckled at herself. She was lounged back in her chair with a glass bottle in one hand. She was wearing an old T-shirt and cotton sleep shorts. Her bare feet were crossed and resting on a coffee table in the center. She was the picture of relaxation.
"No, of course not. Have a seat. It's a nice night out, isn't it?"
Nodding, Bette pulled her robe tighter around her as she sat on the soft, cushioned-covered couch. She lifted her feet to the coffee table, crossing them comfortably. When she looked over at Kerrie, she noticed the woman was eying her legs, and Bette decided to allow her the opportunity. A small thrill of excitement shot through her like lightning as she let the bottom part of her robe drop for a better view. She would have hiked up her nightgown hemline if she weren't being watched. "It is a nice night. This is a lovely patio area. I didn't notice it earlier."
Lips turning up, Kerrie tilted her head, pointing the bottle in her hand at Bette. "Thank you. Did it myself. Well, Kenny supervised and picked out the furniture. He doesn't like to get his hands dirty."
Barking out a laugh, Bette nodded. "He has the supervisory role down. It was fun getting to spend time with him today." Bette hesitantly added, "And you."
Kerrie ducked her head before nodding with an embarrassed grin. "Same with you and Zoe. She seems like a great kid."
"She really is." Bette's eyes landed on the glass bottle in Kerrie's hand, her heart tightening.
Following her eyes, Kerrie opened her hand to show the classic red and white label of Coca-Cola. "Mexican Coke. It has real sugar instead of high-fructose corn syrup."
Flushing, Bette looked down, drawing her robe tighter. "Oh, right. I've had it before. "
"You thought it was beer." It wasn't a question but a statement, and one that held no anger or irritation. It caused Bette to look back at her.
"I did. I guess I shouldn't make assumptions. I'm sorry." Way to go, Bette.
Kerrie swirled the brown liquid around in the bottle. "Don't apologize. I'm not embarrassed by being an alcoholic. Not anymore. Some people just don't react well to alcohol. I've got 24 years of sobriety under my belt. That's something to be proud of. But people still look for signs of relapse. Even after all that time. It's just a natural response."
"That is something to be proud of. I never really thought of addiction before coming to Turtle Grove. Two glasses of wine, and I'm barely keeping my eyes open. I do like a glass on Sunday evenings. Like with dinner. We used to have a nice wine collection in the basement. I somehow doubt the toddler that replaced me is much of a wine connoisseur," laughed Bette, and Kerrie joined in, her freed breast and belly jumping with each expended breath. Bette wondered what it would be like to be tucked into the side of the larger woman. Snuggled close and sharing body heat.
Taking a sip of the drink, Kerrie then settled the bottle on her leg, looking over at Bette. "Can I ask something?"
"Of course."
"Were you surprised by the cheating?"
Bette blinked at Kerrie several times before looking away to focus on the question. Kerrie allowed her time, not pushing. Not rushing. The only sounds were the crackling of fire and a hoot of a nearby owl.
Was she surprised? Did it shock her that Shelly moved on? Truthfully, no, not in the long run.
At first, yes. It had been soul-crushing. Complete deflation. Like her lungs had been pulverized and her heart ripped into a thousand pieces. The weighted shoulders, the cold chill going down her spine, her stomach unable to hold anything for days. She didn't shower for a week. She felt like she was at death's door.
But then, her lungs slowly filled back, and the pieces of her heart all sailed back together like metal bits to a magnet to form a whole organ again. In those first days and weeks, it seemed like it was the shock of the affair that was so painful, but in reality, it had been the destruction of her carefully structured life. A life that was more routine, comfortable, and predictable than actual love and living life. She had been devastated by Shelly turning her back on their carefully crafted life. How dare Shelly ruin their loveless marriage and working relationship because she wanted what? Love? Lust? That was the betrayal that hurt the most.
After a few minutes of deep thought, she shook her head slowly. "No, no, I wasn't surprised by the affair. I was surprised that she had the gall to step out of our dysfunctional relationship. I guess I thought since we were married, we had both silently agreed to continue until death, despite the fact that we weren't really anything more than business partners and roommates. We had our routine, our tasks, and our image to uphold, but we lacked love. Like real love, you know. I still love her. We raised a child together, and you can't just stop caring about someone after twenty years, but the love I had for her during year one, year five, hell, even year 12, was long gone. Learning that was what hurt the most."
"Like she broke an unspoken promise to be miserable together?" offered Kerrie. Her voice was warm and secure, like a throw blanket straight out of the dryer. She felt safe with this woman.
Bette nodded to nothing, the truth of the words hitting her. She didn't know why her chin was quivering. Or why her hand was covering her mouth to keep a sob in. She had no clue why she was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. Why were tears spilling down her freshly washed face? She didn't know any of that, but she did know when the couch shifted under her and protective arms encircled her, pulling her in so she could bury her face into Kerrie's chest. One hand shielded her face, and the other fisted Kerrie's shirt. Her whole body shook, but hardly any sound came out, the air in her lungs heavy like sandbags. Her eyes were stinging, and the pressure in her face increased. Minutes went by. Or it could have been an hour. She had no idea how long, but the hand rubbing her back and the soothing voice murmuring into her hair calm, reassuring words never ceased. Words that spoke to her heart like a healing salve, sealing the little cracks that painted it.
Maybe it was the weight of the subject? Or exhaustion from the long day of moving. Whatever it was, it had triggered a flood that had been dammed up for a while.
Like a weakening water flow, it began to trickle to a stop. Eventually, her high emotions were replaced with embarrassment. She felt like a fool for breaking down with just one question.
She covered her face and turned away, her back now to Kerrie. With an unsteady voice, she said, "I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry I did that. I've completely ruined your evening. I'll go—"
She went to push off the wicker couch, but a strong arm snaked around her waist, Kerrie's hand cupping her belly. She didn't resist. She didn't want to resist. It had been the most vulnerable she'd been with anyone in years. She wanted to soak in the supportive, understanding nature of Kerrie.
With her back still to Kerrie, Bette allowed herself to sit on the edge of the couch. She slid her hand over Kerrie's, who was clutching her middle, surprised that she didn't mind. She hated her stomach. It wasn't flat or tight like it had been in her early twenties. One baby and c-section later, it never felt the same again. She didn't let Shelly touch her midsection. She wore clothes that hid what she deemed her 'pooch.' And now she was leaning against the woman behind her and threading her fingers into Kerrie's, pulling the hand tighter like a lifeline. What in the world was going on?
Warm breath ghosted her ear, settling her nerves more. The woman was like a human version of Xanax. "Don't ever think you have to apologize for feeling things with me. Or expressing them. Your emotional needs and responses are just as important as everyone else's. You don't have to be anything but yourself with me, even if you don't really know who that is in the moment."
Like a punch to the gut, the air left her at the honesty in Kerrie's voice. How could this woman speak directly to her soul with such ease? Calm her insecurities in seconds with the brush of a hand or whisper of a few words? Was Kerrie unique, or did Bette have her head buried in the sand for far too long with Shelly? "I've never been that honest with someone about my situation with Shelly. I usually try to bottle it up, I guess."
Another arm slid around her middle, and Bette found herself snuggling deeper into the embrace. She could feel Kerrie adjust behind her and relax. "Bottling it up doesn't help. You're a smart woman. You know that it doesn't."
Bette leaned her head back against Kerrie's shoulder to stare at the sky. Faint dots, some buzzing by like flies, others fixed permanently, littered the sky like a black canvas. She wished they were a little further out so the city lights didn't dull the stars’ shine so much. It would have been breathtaking in the country. "I know. You're right. Completely right. It's just, I guess it's just hard. I almost feel shameful. Like everything has already changed so much, talking about it feels almost like bragging about failing. Does that make sense?"
Bette could feel the vibration on her back as Kerrie spoke. "It does. That's why a lot of people don't feel comfortable talking about trauma. It feels dirty, shameful, like you said. Like a personal failure, but it's not. You're recovering from major life changes, and speaking it into the open is part of the healing process. Like relieving fumes in a gas tank. It'll just keep building and building, bloating the container. You have to turn the stopper to let some fumes out from time to time; otherwise, it will explode."
With closed eyes, Bette smirked. "Are you saying I'm bloated?"
Bette felt Kerrie stiffen against her and glanced up to see her frantically shaking her head, her hair a little messy from not being combed after her shower. "Absolutely not. I am in no way saying that. No, ma'am."
Barking out a laugh, Bette patted Kerrie's hand. "I'm teasing. I don't know why, but I don't feel like you would criticize my body."
A snort sounded behind her. "Never. I'm a 300-pound giant. I have no business talking about anyone else. Also, since it seems like we've already opened up a new boundary tonight with being honest, I hope I'm not going too far when I say I think your body is beautiful." Kerrie's breath was warm against her ear.
Electricity shot through Bette, lighting her body up like static. Her breath hitched in her chest, and she pressed her thighs together in response to the ache that thudded between them. She hadn't felt that kind of elation in over a decade, at least. Blushing deeply, her face feeling as hot as the fire pit before them, she ducked her head before glancing at Kerrie. "You're not going too far. Thank you. I—I like yours as well."
The arms around her tightened. "I wasn't sure. Especially after seeing your ex. We don't exactly look the same. And we certainly aren't equal on a professional front."
Bette smiled warmly and softly spoke. "No, no, you're not. Your job is much more important."