Bette walked down the porch steps to greet them as they drove up to the house. Tina was driving, her Dad was in the front passenger seat and her mom was in the back seat. Tina popped the trunk as she pulled into the driveway. Bette took her cue and went to pull out their suitcases. In her own mind she was avoiding any awkward 'should we hug or not' moment, by being occupied with the baggage. Tina called out introductions as Bette lifted the trunk of her car open and pulled out the first bag within reach.
"Don't worry about it mom, Bette already has yours," Tina said. "She can take it and show Dad where to put his things."
"Well Tina, you know I don't like to feel as though people are waiting on me." Anne Kennard was a proud and capable woman, rarely at a loss for an opinion and always able to take care of herself.
"It's your holiday mom," Tina said with a sigh. "Let us do some of the little things for you, okay?"
"My little girl, all grown up," Anne said with a mixture of joy and sadness.
"She's her daddy's little girl," said Tom Kennard decisively. "And I don't care what kind of movie development big shot she is, she's always going to be her daddy's little girl."
Bette smiled in spite of herself. She always suspected that Tina's natural level of confidence stemmed from a nurturing and supportive upbringing, and this brief interaction served to confirm her suspicions.
"Follow me Mr. Kennard," Bette said as she motioned toward the front steps. "I'll show you where your room is."
"No need to be so formal Bette," he said jovially. "Please call me Tom."
"Okay I will," Bette replied with a smile that invariably won a lot of people over. She had always been taught by a very formal Melvin Porter to address her elders with their title unless invited to do otherwise. She pushed the door open and strode to the spare bedroom to place Anne's bag on the small table that was just inside.
"This is a nice place," Tom commented as he entered. "Good use of space. Nice and open. The detail is just enough to add to it rather than distract from the design."
"That's right," Bette replied. "I forgot that you're an architect. I'd love to hear your thoughts on potential renovations. It might be a while off yet, but any ideas you have to offer would be appreciated."
"I'd be happy to sit with you and rough out some sketches," he said enthusiastically. "Although to be honest, what you have is so true to the original design, I wouldn't want to alter it very much."
"An addition?" Bette suggested.
"We'll come up with some ideas," Tom concluded, continuing to glance at his surroundings.
They both left the room to find Tina and her mom sitting at the dining room table.
"Tee, our reservation is for 7 o'clock. We should get going soon, just in case traffic gets heavy," Bette said as she caught sight of the time on the grandfather clock that stood majestically against the wall of the dining room.
She saw Tina cringe just slightly at her use of the simple term of endearment. She silently berated herself for slipping up, but thought her transgression relatively minor, and unlikely to cause any real difficulty.
************
All four of them returned to the house, having thoroughly enjoyed the meal that was presented to them at one of Los Angeles's finest restaurants. Grace Restaurant was on Beverly Boulevard, a reasonable distance from their house, and widely recognized for its quality food, excellent wine and stellar service. Bette had made reservations as soon as they were informed when Tina's parents would be visiting. Their evening had not been a disappointment.
"Let me just sit down," Tom said as he followed Tina into the living room. "I think I have to loosen my belt."
"Dad," Tina said, her brow knit slightly.
"I'm just loosening it, sweetie, I'm not going to make myself so comfortable that I make you uncomfortable," he replied, having accurately read her one word admonition.
Tina accepted his explanation. Too many times as a teenager, she had occasion to be embarrassed by the actions or words of her father, and felt she would be better served by avoiding such situations, rather than reacting to them once they occurred.
Tina sat in the armchair opposite her father, while he took a seat on the couch. Her mother soon followed and made herself comfortable beside her husband. Bette set four wine glasses on the coffee table before disappearing to retrieve a bottle of wine.
She returned with a lovely Pinot Noir they'd been saving for a special occasion. Bette couldn't think of a better time to crack a nicer than average bottle of wine. She proceeded to uncork it like a pro, and offered Tina the first taste.
Tina swirled the rich liquid in her generously proportioned glass, inhaled the bouquet of the wine and finally let it bathe her palate with flavour.
"It's delicious, Bette thanks for choosing it," Tina said with a wink.
Bette contemplated the possibility that Tina was perhaps already a little giddy from the wine they enjoyed with dinner, but there was no reason not to help her loosen up a bit more as she prepared to share her news with her parents.
She filled Anne's wine glass, and then Tom's before topping up Tina's and finally her own. She set the bottle down and descended into the armchair that matched the one in which Tina sat.
"That meal was quite simply amazing," Anne said after she took her first taste of the wine. She nodded approvingly as she swallowed and motioned to Tom that he should try his. He brought the glass to his lips obediently.
"And you're pretty difficult to please," Tina replied with a smile.
"You get to know what you want when you've worked in the restaurant industry for any length of time," Anne said simply. "I know what the standards were in restaurants where I was the executive chef, and I expect nothing less when I'm out for a fine dining experience."
"I'm so glad you enjoyed it," Bette said. She had thought long and hard on where to take them, and Tina had insisted that price was not to be a consideration, given what was to transpire that evening. She didn't go so far as to say she wanted her parents good and liquored, but that was certainly the implication.
"Mom, Dad, there's something I actually want to talk to you about," Tina started quietly. She was at a loss of where the conversation should go next.
"What's that pumpkin?" Tom Kennard asked with a genuine smile on his face.
Bette saw Tina visibly relax at her father's words.
"I wanted to let you know that you didn't really displace me from my room because of your visit," Tina tried the round about way in her efforts to explain that she and Bette always shared the bedroom they were in.
Her father looked at her quizzically.
Her mother simply sat there and took in her words without offering any in return.
Tina continued.
"Bette and I always share the master bedroom, and you have the spare bedroom for use whenever you wish to visit us in our home," Tina concluded, with a confidence that belied her anxiety.
"So," Anne paused before continuing. "You and Bette are a couple?"
Tina reached and placed her hand on top of Bette's.
"Yes, we've been together for almost 10 months," Tina replied.
Anne looked at Tom and then returned her eyes to Tina's.
"Well thank the Good Lord for that news," she finally said. "We thought you were going to tell us you were dating Nicole again."
"What?" Tina replied, incredulous at her parents' assumption that she had ever dated Nicole.
"Well, certainly," Anne said in a matter of fact tone. "You could never miss the looks you two exchanged every time our families got together. The most obvious was that Christmas Nicole came home from her first semester at College. You looked like a lost puppy every time she walked into a room."
"Mom, Nicole and I never dated," Tina said, unable to hide the shock in her voice. "Bette's the first woman I've ever dated."
It was Anne's turn to be shocked.
"Tina honeyreally?
