Chapter 1
It is beautiful here, the sea breeze gently flowing through my hair, the crystal clear and freezing water, the small islands that dot the coast line with their summer holiday homes. Before I boarded the ferry I had ambled through the quaint market here on the pier and looked and sampled the local produce. There was a time in my life when I would have said "I don't have time for this." The truth is that I neither had the time or the inclination. Now I have both, time and inclination. It is the rare times like this that I miss home, my home, LA, the girls, Kit and of course Tina. I haven't been home in 18 months. In the time I have been away, many things have changed. I enjoy my own company, or at least I am used to it. I enjoy the quiet and the simple things in life like wandering through the market and watching the world go by as the ferry shows me all the sights off the coast. I have seen nearly all of the most significant art galleries and art on display in Europe and other places. But is the times like this when something triggers memories of a former life. Memories of a life with Tina. Perhaps it is being on the ferry, it reminds me of the days Tee and I sat on the beach, the picnics we had in secluded spots. I can never tell when it is going to happen, day or night, alone or in company but when it hits, it hits hard. I sometimes think about her and our life but I do not let consume me as it once had. After Tina and I went our separate ways, and I am the first to admit my guilt and my soul was torn. What I did was unforgivable and I paid the price for it. I threw myself into doing everything I could to get her, our life back, anything to make amends. She just didn't want that. I truly believed Tina and I would work it out and get back together. It didn't happen. She was my soul mate. Thoughts of the ugliness and pain that I caused both of us come flooding back. Tears well up in my eyes, will I never move on from this place in my heart, will I ever love someone again? There are times when I truly believe I have moved forward, most of the time in fact. The times when I am unexpectedly assaulted by the images I know deep in my heart it will not be resolved until I go home and make peace. I look up to see the stranger who'd said hello to be earlier watch me wipe away the tears. I flash a small smile, one that does not come from the heart. I know the woman wonders what tragedy befell me. None that Tina and I didn't bring on our selves I think angrily. I think about the last time we were together, intimately, I think about her with another woman, I think about when she went to the divorce lawyer and I was on my knees pleading with her to find out if she still loved me, I think about our home, the times we made love, the laughter, about fucking Faye Buckley and the protestors on the night Tina lost the baby, the thousands of times I tried to apologise, the times we had friends over. I smirk at the look on Franklin's face when I return to the table after my phone call with the dwarf, my sessions with Dan Foxworthy, the sadness and realizations those sessions had bought, the nights I had cried myself to sleep or not slept at all, the nights I drank too much, the nights were always the hardest. It's all a jumble. The difference is I am no longer prepared to blame the others. I absently mindedly play with my wedding ring I still wear around my neck on a chain, unwilling to part with it wholly but willing to acknowledge we no longer belong to each other. The woman watches me and smiles, she knows my tragedy, she has seen it before. I ponder whether one has to know the tragedy to recognize it.
When it all went wrong I turned to thing I loved nearly as much as Tina. When the time eventually came I had to admit to myself that pursuing Tina how I had for the 6 months after we separated was unhealthy, I decided to plan a trip with my second best friend, Art. I planned and did travel to see some of the beautiful art pieces in the world. I saw many other things on my travels too, snow and blue skies with sunshine, lovers that came and went, one too many cosmopolitans in the early days and the occasional headache. All I took was a backpack, my wedding ring and need to escape. I left it all behind, the car, the house, my work, mainly because none of seemed important any more and I was right, it wasn't important. It was the Art I went to see and see it I did, all the great artists and works. At the time I didn't see the connection but now I do. Art was the only other thing that could make me feel. The vividness and complexity of the paintings, drawings and sculptures that screamed their emotions secretly out at me, like we had some pact. There are drawings and paintings I did on the nights when I couldn't sleep, when they were the only thing to offer comfort and company when I was so alone. I kept the works I had done, I bought a few too. OK, so I didn't by Picasso or Monet. For once I bought pieces based on nothing other than how they made me feel, not whether they were famous or expensive. I hardly noticed my cruise coming to an end but as it did so did the realization that my trip was at an end too, I had gone as far as I would on this leg of my journey. I would have some great stories to tell the girls but the time was here, the time to go home. I refuse any longer have my life stolen by a past. I made mistakes, I accept them and the consequences, but I am through running. When I left LA I convinced myself I was searching not running, as though it made a difference. I do not know what awaits me at home but it is time to find out.
I call Kit and tell her I am coming home. I ask her not to tell the others, all in good time. I can tell Kit is excited. I do not ask about Tina but I do ask about the house. Before I left I told Tina to do what she wanted with it. Kit tells me that it is still there, just how it always was. Tina keeps it well but does not live there. That I understand. I am not sure why she did not sell it but she must have her reasons. I ask Kit to do me one other favour, collect the Saab. I have missed the Saab. Kit says she will pick me up from the airport. I deliberately book a flight that will get me in late Fri night. Why I am not sure, I should not have to sneak into my own city and home,
On the flight home I think about Alice and how we fought, Shane and how she wanted to stay friends with us both, how she tried not to judge me, Dana and how she never knew what to say about it all. I think about Tee, will we be able to be friends, is she seeing someone, where does she work ? I think about the odd postcard I sent her, did it mean anything to her, or would she rather I didn't bother, I think about the time I called Kit's phone and she answered it. We had a brief but nice conversation, mostly out of surprise. I have held onto the way she asked me if I was doing ok, the same way she would have before. Did she really mean it ? I heard from Kit that Tina didn't take to me leaving well, I left a note for her but said no goodbyes in person. I don't know what Kit meant by 'didn't take to it well', I never asked. I must have dozed off, the plane lands and I make through customs and to my way to Kit, who has the biggest smile and hug for her baby sister. Unashamedly I let the tears roll down my face, a mixture of happiness, sadness and relief to be home. I hug her tight. She tells me it is good to see me, good to have me home. Kit studies me unsure of the emotions I express freely. This is a part of me Kit doesn't yet know of. Still, I do not ask about Tina. I know Kit will want to take me to her house. We chat on the way.
Bette : "Kit, I know you were expecting me to stay with you, would you mind if I go home?"
Kits head swings around faster than a formula one car "What do mean by home, baby girl ?" Kit is onto me straight away.
Bette : "My home Kit, Tina and my house" I say it simply, no fanfare.
Kit : "you sure you want to do that ?"
Bette : "yes" is all I say. I know Tina is not living there, I have to live somewhere. I will somehow OK it with Tina but not tonight. It is after all my house too.
Kit stops off and picks up the essentials, sparkling water, milk, coffee, a bagel for breakfast and the unromantic toilet paper I wait in the car. It is late but it's LA, there are lots of lights.
