Her Portrait Is Black and White

Helping Hands

Bette drove along the long road which lead to the house on the outer limits of LA, she knew that Tina hadn't sleep well the night before and was now sleeping in their SUV. Her wife had had terrible doubts which had crept in as the evening had gone on. Bette knew she had to get her home, safe, away from the world that scared her wife so deeply.

Bette knew she had managed to drum up her own business, the artist she had offered a show to had emailed her in the middle of the night, coping in a PA service, which Bette knew, to say they wanted to do the show at her gallery and Bette knew that would be great for business. She also knew that the event would have drummed up a lot of business and interest her wife. The piece now hanging in the White House was one of her finest yet and she hoped that Tina could handle what was bound to come her way.

Bette slowed the car and hit the button in the car to open the security gates onto their property. She sat and watched the games open before pulling in and watching them close behind the car and then driving down the long drive way to the house. They had been gone for three days, but for Tina it had felt like three weeks emotionally. She needed to be home, she needs to be back in her safe space.

Bette clicked the car off and looked at the passenger seat at her sleeping wife before looking back at her sleeping son, she couldn't help but laugh, they both slept the same. She shook her head, before getting out, as soon as she closed the door Tina opened her eyes.

Tina looked around for a moment before a slow smile spread on her lips. She was home. She was back where she wanted to be, she slowly got out of the car and took a deep breath of the clean hills air. She smiled when she saw that Bette was opening the house. She felt relaxed. She opened the car door and picked up her son, who snuggled into her but didn't wake, he hadn't enjoyed the plane ride home and it had taken it out of him. Bette knew it was because he could pick up on his mothers tension.

Tina carried him into the house and up to his nursey putting him into his cot. She watched him for a few moments before kissing him and leaving the room. She walked into her own bedroom, kicked off her shoes and lay onto her bed, feeling the calming of her surroundings. She felt at ease for the first time since they had left for Washington. Even with all the professional and mental help she could get, she hadn't coped well. She knew that. She lay back listening to her wife downstairs, whatever Bette did, she knew it was turning on the coffee machine and having a decent cup of coffee, she hated coffee on planes. Tina closed her eyes and just took in this moment,

Bette opened the bedroom door and smiled at her wife,

"You okay?" Bette asked as she put a mug of tea on Tina's nightstand knowing she would need it, before sipping her own mug of freshly brewed, freshly pressed coffee.

"Yeah, just glad to be home, you?"

"I am okay, It's like a tension has left you completely."

"I'm not made for public events, I think I'm finally ready to admit, I would rather hide away and then do that again,"

"What if you get another big commission,"

"I might just hire Michelle,"

"She was very good,"

"I don't think I pouch her from the White House,"

"You never know."

"She's got a good job there,"

"Yeah suppose, but you could ask, if she says no maybe she will know someone who could help you. I mean, you don't need a team but you run Tina Kennard Studio yourself. Perhaps it's time you get an employee to help."