Elle

3

Slowly but surely Linda had returned to her usual charismatic self. Rich laughter filled the air, witty comments were spoken freely, her contagious smiled was flashed left and right, that bright sparkle came back to those sapphire eyes. Yes, Bette could see how Joan had fallen for the girl.

Joan. Bette had avoided the subject apart from the initial breakdown. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her over the past hour, she just had to know more.

"Can I ask you something?" Bette said one the laughter had died down.

"Of course! Ask away!" Linda beamed.

"What is it that you see in that woman?"

Linda went silent immediately, her smiled faltered.

"Christ, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, no. It's not you." Linda said quickly once she had snapped out of it,"It's just that no one's ever asked me that before."

"Really?"

"Well, darling, being 'out' isn't exactly the 'in' thing. Though, I would love too." Linda's voice softened,"I'll tell you, but you have to promise me one thing."

"Shoot."

"You'll keep you snarky remarks to yourself."

"Me? Make snarky remarks about Crawfish? I would never." Bette scoffed.

Linda narrowed her eyes at her friend.

"Alright fine." Bette sighed,"I'll keep my mouth shut about the public squeeze."

"Bette."

"Hey!" The actresses hands shot up,"I'm done, I swear."

"One word out of you and I go silent."

"Understood, now spill."

A shy smile spread across Linda's face.

"What exactly is it that you want to know?"

"What she's really like. Behind closed doors and all of that?" Bette blew out a plum of smoke,"Some say the the woman is much different from the star."

Linda sat quietly for a moment, debating on just how much she should share with the woman before her. Contrary to popular belief, Joan Crawford was enormously private. She didn't take kindly to her personal life being spoken about in any sense, let alone to her career long rival. That being said, as much as Bette loved jumping at the chance to weaken Joan, she would never tell a soul what was said. Linda was her closest friend and she would never betray that confidence.

"Well, I suppose she's what you might expect. Emotional, dramatic, the distancing type. I don't think short tempered is the correct description after what happened tonight." Linda chuckled dryly,"And God knows there isn't a moment that she isn't on."

"Figures as much." Bette snorted.

"Some days it aggravates the hell out of me. Other days it amuses me. But everyday it amazes me."

The older woman cocked her head to the side at he cryptic statement.

"I don't follow."

"We all have our good days and bad days, but what matters is the end of those days. How one changes when they can shed the tension, the mask, and just be themselves." Linda smiled.

"You're speaking in riddles now." Bette kicked back the rest of her second whiskey.

"Let me make it simple then. At the end of the day, I don't see Joan Crawford the film star. What I see is the woman who's face light's up when she comes home to happy children. I see the woman who kisses me gently once she pries them off of her. I see the woman who shudders when she sees herself barefaced, who stays up all night worrying about the future-my future, our children's future. I see the woman who is afraid to ruin me even though she cannot. I see the woman no one else does."

Bette was taken aback by the absolutely smitten look on the Frenchwoman's face. Not once had she heard a single one of Joan's previous husbands speak about her in such a touching manner. 

"Wow."

"What?" Linda smiled.

"You really do love her..." Bette took a drag of her cigarette.

"I do. I really do." The younger woman took a ragged breath,"I hope she still loves me."

Bette's first instinct, however embarrassing, was to lash out and say something nasty about her enemy, but nothing would come out. Though, it was ultimately for the best. Bette had to admit that Joan had changed since Linda had entered her life. She had become much more tolerable to be around, her excessive drinking had slowed, her advances towards men had become quite literally nonexistent. To someone who had did not know her, these changes only seemed logical. But Bette knew better. Joan Crawford, a woman who refused change no matter how little, had more than willingly changed who she was. 

This young Frenchwoman had blown into an old movie stars life and turned her world upside down.

"She loves you, Linda. You must understand that." Bette said softly as she reached for her hand,"You've both changed each other's lives, neither of you can let go."

"I hope so. As pathetic as this sounds, I can't live without her nor can the children."

Bette smiled as she went to say something but was interrupted by the door bell.

"Expecting someone?" Linda asked, quickly drying the tears that streaked down her face.

"Oh yes! I invited a couple of friends over to join us for a late night shin-dig." Bette snorted as she hoisted herself off the bed,"Give me a moment, I'll be right back."

The bell rang again when she was halfway down the stairs.

"I'm coming!"

Frantic banging started once she shouted.

"I said I'm coming for Christ's sake!"

The banging didn't stop, instead it intensified.

"What the hell do..." Bette's voice trailed off once she opened the door.

On her stoop stood a very frazzled, tear stained, make up free Joan Crawford. 

"Where is she?" Joan rasped.