Chapter 21
Bette hadn't been back to her old house in months—not since the judge had awarded the house to Shelly. That had been a hard day. She tucked her tail between her legs and drove back to her mother's house, where she hadn't lived since she was 20 years old. She had vowed never to live with her mother again, but there she was, at 47, moving back in. It had been a hard pill to swallow.
They pulled into the long driveway that curved at an angle so as not to obstruct the view of the house. She found herself with nervous jitters running all through her. As if sensing it, Kerrie reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently as she slowly rolled the truck to a stop and parked. They stared up at the large three-story, five-bedroom, six-bath home with its modern-day columns and white and wood beams. They had argued over the house when they were house hunting. Bette wanted something more classic. Maybe a vintage fixer-upper. She absolutely adored wooden staircases, rounded door frames, and vintage white tiles. The kind of home that had withstood for 100 years. The kind of home that had character. Shelly wanted modern blacks and whites and metal, chunks of wood here and there. The family room was the only area that was a little bit more Bette's style. Even their shared bedroom didn't have a cohesive feel. One could spot little things that were Bette's touches, but it was always surrounded by her wife's cold and impersonal choices.
"This is a really nice house," said Kerrie, staring up at it.
Bette nodded, the lines in her forehead creasing. "It is a nice house. It's a really nice house. But it always felt a little cold. You can put all the money you want into something, but that doesn't make it home. "
"Are you going to be okay doing this? We can always turn back around, and you can blame me for needing to leave. I don't mind."
The urge to let Kerrie whisk her away was strong. She didn't want to walk back into that house, and she didn't want to spend the next two hours with her ex-wife and ex-in-laws. But she did want to make this day great for Zoe, and though Zoe would probably understand, she would still be a little disappointed if her mom didn't show up.
With a squeeze to Kerrie's hand, she put on a smile. "As tempting as that is, I have to do this. Zoe deserves this day to be about her."
Kerrie nodded. "I understand. I know it must be hard, but I admire your love for Zoe. She's lucky to have you."
"I think the same thing about you with Kenny."
A car pulled up beside them, and they both turned to see who it was.
Zoe waved enthusiastically from the passenger seat of a black Challenger. Beside her was a strawberry-blond young man with sunglasses and one of those preppy swept-over haircuts that you would see in late 90s movies.
"And who is that with her?"
Bette waved at her daughter, keeping a smile on her face while she talked. "That little twerp is the guy Zoe has been seeing for about a year now. Shelly introduced them. His father is some prominent asshole at the country club."
Kerrie raised an eyebrow at Bette. "And I'm taking it by your tone that we're not the biggest fans of him? What is his name?"
"Remington."
Kerrie paused. "Like the gun company?"
"Yes, like the gun company. He could be worse, but he could also be a lot better. He's just your typical stuck-up 20-something-year-old. He graduated last year and has been working with his dad. His dad owns Duncan's Construction."
"Oh, I've heard of them before. Don't they sort of monopolize the area regarding construction?"
Bette nodded. "Yes, they have a habit of pushing small businesses out. I think Remington works in the office for his dad. Kind of like learning the ropes."
"Nothing like working for good ol' Dad."
They joined the young couple outside in the driveway. Bette introduced Remington and Kerrie before heading inside .
Her old home didn't smell right. It smelled nothing like it should. She had lived in that house for 10 years, and it had always smelled the same, like warm bread and lavender. But now it smelled like some sort of cheap laundry detergent. It was overwhelming. Bette wasn't sure where the smell was coming from until she noticed that almost every other plug-in seemed to have one of those smell-good adapters.
She motioned for Zoe to lean in as they walked into the kitchen. "Why does it smell so strong in here? I can barely breathe."
"Yeah, that's Jen's doing. She says she likes to have fresh-smelling rooms. If you stay here for too long, you'll get a headache. I always go through and unplug the ones upstairs when I stay the night because I can't stand it. I haven't said anything because I don't want to be mean, but I don't know how Mom stands being in here. She doesn't have any in her office and spends a lot of time there. I suspect some of it's to get away from the smell."
Nodding, Bette understood. There was no way she would be able to stay in there for very long, and she was thankful when she realized that the luncheon was going to be held outside on the patio. She briefly wondered if Shelly did that on purpose to avoid the assaulting smell.
The backyard was immaculate as always. High shrubs cut into sharp angles, and not a single flower to be found. Rock designs along the house, and a stoic metal fountain sat in the middle of the courtyard. A canopy had been erected, and inside was a long table set for lunch. Bette had to admit it was a beautiful setup. She didn't know if Jen was the one that decorated it or if she had hired the company that owned the furniture, but it was nice.
Shelly called for them, motioning them over to where a woman in a crisp white shirt and black pants was assembling drinks at a portable bar. "I'm glad you were able to make it. I know you don't want to be here, Bette."
"Well, this day is about Zoe, and no matter how much I would rather not be here, I do want to support her."
Nodding, Shelly handed Bette a flute filled with champagne. "I understand. This is a little awkward for all of us, I suppose. I thought having a bar wouldn't hurt to settle the nerves. I made sure they stocked your favorite champagne. And what can I get for you? I'm sorry, I don't remember what your name is."
"Kerrie, Kerrie Matthews. And I don't drink. So perhaps Coke on the rocks?" Her comment was aimed at the bartender, who immediately went to work assembling the drink. She was handed a crystal glass with the brown liquid in it .
Shelly lifted up her nose, frowning at Kerrie. "Why don't you drink?"
"Because I'm a—"
"Shelly, did you change the patio furniture?" Bette interrupted hastily.
Kerrie frowned down at her, catching the interruption, but didn't say anything. Bette's cheek warmed under her gaze.
Shelly's face changed to admiration. Something she loved to do was brag about new things she had bought. It was a good distraction.
Lunch was the guest's choice of roasted lamb or glazed salmon. It was delicious, and Bette reminisced about how much she had missed a nice, elevated meal. The quality of cooking. The fresh ingredients, the champagne that costs more than $10. Even dessert was fantastic: sorbet, fresh mint, and a little slice of sponge cake so light that she wouldn't have been surprised if it floated off her plate. She would have licked the plate clean had people not been around her.
It had been a much easier experience than she had expected it to be. By the end, she was almost comfortable. Her ex-in-laws had given her the cold shoulder, refusing to even look her way, which was fine with Bette. Others, their old friends, greeted Bette and chatted as if they hadn't completely ditched her after the divorce. The superficial conversations were easy to have.
"Can I ask a question?" asked Kerrie as they stood back from the other guests.
"Of course."
"Why did Shelly take your last name? She doesn't seem like the type to give up her name."
Bette snorted, covering her mouth with her hand briefly. "Her ego can only be overridden by her awful maiden name, Weiner."
Kerrie choked out a laugh, drawing the attention of a few people nearby. She leaned down so only Bette could hear her. "So, you're telling me those people over there," she nodded to Shelly's parents, "are the Weiner's?"
"Yep."
"I'd definitely go with Cooper over Weiner."
They both fell into a fit of quiet laughter until Zoe walked over, causing them to sober.
"Mom, it's time to take pictures," instructed Zoe. She leaned into Bette and Kerrie. "And honestly, I just need out of here."
Kerrie grinned mischievously, asking, "What time is the party later?"
Zoe's bright blue eyes widened. "How did you know? "
"Just a hunch," Kerrie chuckled.
The photographer was the lady that did their holiday and yearly family pictures. She was around Bette's age. Missy Topps. She liked Missy. Shelly wasn't the easiest person to deal with, and Missy handled her in stride.
The photos were going to be taken in front of the gazebo by the lake, a small, man-made lake that Shelly had dug out and spent a 1/3 of their savings on. Bette had been livid when she found out. Shelly had told her it had been worked into the loan, completely covered, but she had lied.
"There's a lake? I'd like to have a lake. Stock it full of fish, and Kenny and I could sit out on the dock catching dinner," said Kerrie, with an airy, daydream look on her face.
Bette snorted. "You'd get more use out of it than Shel. She doesn't do anything with it. Just occasionally sits in the gazebo and looks at it."
"That's a shame. Such a waste of a lake."
Missy spotted them. She smiled at Bette, walking over, pulling her into a quick hug. "It's been too long!"
Laughter bubbled up from her chest as Bette pulled back and looked at the dark, curly-haired woman. "It really has been."
"We need to hang out now that you're away from Mrs. Uptight over there," Missy said lowly and looked over her shoulder.
"We really do. I'll call you this week. We can go have dinner or something."
"That sounds good," nodded Missy, turning her attention to Kerrie. "And who is that tall drink of hotness?"
Blushing deeply, Kerrie chuckled awkwardly while rubbing the back of her head. "I'm Kerrie Matthews."
"Well, Kerrie Matthews, I hope that you are far better than Mrs. Uptight because Bette deserves much better."
"Well, I'm trying my best."
Missy gave her a hard look, then cracked back into a grin and turned to Bette. "Well, I need to go finish setting up. Make sure you call me this week. I would love to catch up."
They watched the dark-haired woman walk back to the gazebo. Kerrie was the first to talk. "Whoa, she was, uh—"
"A breath of fresh air?" Bette offered.
Nodding, Kerrie said, "Yeah, exactly. We've been around stuffy people all day, and she was definitely a much-needed break. "
"Yeah, I agree. I think I may actually take her up on going out. I don't have a lot of friends anymore. They all sort of disappeared after the divorce. I guess I was of no use to them anymore. It would be nice to have someone to talk to."
"Gee, thanks," Kerrie said jokingly.
Bette quickly responded, her face heating up once more. "You know what I mean. It's different with you. You're, um--" They hadn't actually discussed their relationship. They were more than friends, but she didn't know if she could go so far as to say they were dating.
It was Kerrie's turn to offer an answer: "A potential suitor?"
Bette snorted out a laugh and lightly slapped Kerrie's belly. She rolled her eyes. "A potential suitor? What are we in the 1920s?"
Kerrie held her hands up in mock surrender. "Hey now, I think I would look good in some of those sharp suits they used to wear back then. I'd definitely sweep you off your feet in one of those." She winked at Bette.
Pulse quickening, Bette smirked. "You seem awfully sure of yourself."
"I'm just putting it out there so hopefully I can manifest it."
"Well, I think you're doing a pretty good job right now without the suit."
"So what I'm hearing is you want to see me naked." Her face was completely straight.
Bette gasped, her heart now beating near the speed of light. She slapped at Kerrie's belly again, eyes wide, but she couldn't repress the smile taking over her face. "You are being bad."
"Maybe, but it was worth it to see the look on your face."
Photos were a little different than the ones of the past. Normally, it would just be the three of them, and Missy would instruct them on how to sit and position themselves and that sort. But when Jen started stepping into the pictures, irritation on a whole new level overcame Bette. She was not her child's mother. She wasn't even her stepmother, but she was pushing her way into the pictures as if she had been a part of the family since Zoe's birth. She could understand a few pictures, but most should be of the three of them. They had raised the young woman who they were celebrating that day together, and Jen knew that.
"Can we get pictures of just Zoe, Shelly, and me?" inquired Bette. Her voice suggested it was not a question .
Jen stepped out in front of Bette, hands on her hips. "I'm just as much a part of this family as you are. Actually, I'm probably more of a part of this family, because I am not divorced from Shelly."
Bette's eyes widened at the gall. Bette stepped forward, fist clenched. She had a condescending smile on her face. "You don't have the last name, and you don't have the marriage certificate. You didn't give birth, nor did you raise Zoe. You've been in some of the photos, and now we're going to take pictures of just the parents and the graduate. Do you understand me?"
Shelly stepped forward, trying to put herself between the two, but she looked unsure of what she needed to do. Neither one of them was listening to her while she was trying to get their attention.
"You don't get to tell me what to do. Who do you think you are coming into my home and telling me what I can do in my yard?" Squealed Jen.
Bette let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Are you serious? Your name isn't on the deed. You're lucky you are even allowed to store your shit here. Do you not realize that once the novelty of you wears off, she's just going to ship you off like she does everything else that is no longer useful to her?"
"How dare you—" Shelly was interrupted.