Sometime in the future:

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Previously:

“I’m sorry, Billie…I’ve never…” Beth had never kissed anybody like that. She looked away and her face turned dark pink.

“I’m so…soooo sorry.” She burst into tears and ran out of the office. Billie made a half-hearted attempt to stop her but she was just as embarrassed and anxious as Beth.

“Oh, god, what do I do now?” It was more of an expression than a prayer. She heard a sound at the door and turned to see Irene standing in the doorway with her arms folded.

“She’s going to fire me…Oh shit…damn it!” She looked back at Irene, who smiled and said,

“Well?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Smith. I’m so sorry…it won’t happen again.” She wiped some tears from her face, almost cringing at the sight of Irene walking slowly toward her. “Please, Ms. Smith?”

“No…no…not that.” Irene said and broke out into a broad grin.

“Whhhaaaa…whaaat?” Billie looked down at her shoes. Irene actually grabbed her by the chin and lifted her head up.

“Well? Aren’t you going to go after her?” Irene took her hand and turned Billie’s face to the doorway.

“Honey…it’s okay…go.” Irene smiled again. Billie stood up and started to walk to the door. She looked back and tilted her head as if to say, “Are you sure?”

“Go.”

---

"Beth...Come out." Billie knocked on the door.

"No...I can't...I'm so sorry." Beth called out from behind the bathroom door. Billie tried the knob, but it wouldn't budge.

"Stop, Billie...I'm sorry... I can't...I just can't. I'm not supposed to ...this isn't right." Billie heard a bump on the door which she guessed was Beth's head.

"I'm not going anywhere. You can hang in there 'til the end of the day, but I'm not leaving!" Billie said as she turned around. She lowered herself to the floor and leaned her back against the door.

"And you're not either unless you come out and talk." Billie wasn't used to being this assertive, but it was somethng that just seemed so right.

"Billie, I'm not kidding. I can't do this. It's not supposed to happen this way." She was crying almost hysterically.

"What's supposed to happen?" Billie asked, turning her head to face the closed door.

"I'm not supposed to...love..." Her voice trailed off and Billie heard her sit down on the toilet.

"What? A girl?" Billie hit her fist on the door trim, evoking a wince of pain.

"Yeessss.....I'm supposed to...." The voice coming from the bathroom was softer and almost subdued.

"You are supposed to do whatever the fuck pleases you!" Billie said. She looked down the hall and Irene was standing in the office door way, moving her hands as if motioning Billie to continue. By now Sandra and Cathilynn were also standing at the other end of the hallway.

Billie felt the push of the bathroom door against her back. She stretched her legs across the hallway and pushed against the far wall.

“Sorry. Not going anywhere. Listen to yourself.” She heard the latch click as the door pushed back into the doorway.

“But you don’t understand.” Beth was calmer, but still crying. “I’m doing what I have to do.”

“According to whom, dear?” Billie was getting tired of pushing and eased up on the door. Feeling nothing she relaxed.

“What do you want, Beth? What do you want?” Billie turned her head and seemed to be talking to the door. Sandra and Cathilynn stepped closer before Billie put her finger to her lips as if to say, “Be vewy kwiet…I’m hunting fowh an Ewiszabeff.” Both of them put their fingers up to their own lips in acknowledgment. Sandra practically tip-toed up to Billie and handed her a spare masterkey,

"Just in case," she whispered.

“I want…I... God I don’t even know.” She was crying harder now, and both Sandra and Cathilynn turned and started walking back down the hallway.

“Well, I know what I want, and I’m not leaving until you know, too!” She bit her lip. It played out almost comedically, but she knew the pain Beth was in; she had felt it herself. Years of doing exactly what was expected brought her through her circuitous journey to her own crossroads, and Beth was standing in the middle of the intersection.

“I didn’t know myself until now, but I want you, Beth, if you’ll have me. I’m fucking damaged goods. I don’t have my head screwed all the way on, and I’m scared to admit it, but I need you. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anything or anyone. When we kissed just now, it was like you freed me from myself…all the stupid stuff I’ve ever done just went away…gone!” She was trying not to cry herself; someone had to be strong and Beth wasn’t about to.

“But what if?? What if you find you don’t like me?” She cried from behind the door. This wasn’t hysterical, but real ingrained fear reinforced with years of benign neglect by her brother and rejection by all of the ones who urged her to change but failed to validate her once the change was real.

“I don’t know? At this point, sister, I’m not even sure that I do like you, but I know I love you. More than anyone I’ve ever met. Ever!” Billie put her hand to her face and bit her fist to keep from crying. The tears began to fall down her cheeks and drip onto her shoe.

“I….I….don’t like….me either.” Beth wept out of frustration. Years of compliance were keeping the door closed even more than Billie ever could. She felt like she had to fit someone else’s expectations. Relationship after relationship failed as she found she could never measure up to requirements that never should have been placed upon her. She went on.

“I…can’t stand how I just give up…like I don’t belong or have anything to offer. I hate how I don’t say what’s on my mind.” She was more collected even as she wept softly.

“Billie? Billie? Are you still there?” She cried out, and her answer came in the door opening. Those sea-green eyes were filled with their own tears as Billie held out her arms. It was a simple and unassuming gesture upon first glance, but very important; Beth would have to decide. She would have to make up her mind to come to Billie. Either she wanted this or not, and it was up to her; not anyone or anything else.

“I’m right here in front of you. I love you. Do you love me?” It was an easy enough question to ask; much more difficult to answer. Did Beth really want what she had always pursued? Was it something she truly desired, or was there another way. She answered in the only way she knew how. Stepping out of the bathroom into the hallway, she kissed Billie. Not sensual in the true sense, but it was. Not romantic in the deepest way, but it was.

“Mmmm….sooo…sohhhrrreee.” She kissed Billie’s face as if it were the last time they would ever kiss. Her lips caressed Billie’s cheeks and chin. Her own lip bent almost sideways brushing against Billie’s ear. She cooed and sobbed and laughed and whispered and cried again. Billie answered back in the only way she knew how.

“I’m….soo…sohrreee….yoooo feeel…so bad.” She kissed Beth’s eyes. Her nostrils flared at the scent of Beth’s shampoo and she breathed deep at the smell of her cologne. She kissed Beth as tenderly as sisters do, and then as passionately as lovers will. She pulled back briefly. Beth’s eyes were still closed, and the tears just kept coming, but they were no longer fearful, dreadful tears. These were cleansing and freeing and comforting.

“I love you. I think fell in love with you the day we really met; when your hand touched mine and I felt your energy…your life touched mine that day.” She said softly as she kissed the tears off of Beth’s face. Her face pressed against Beth’s and their tears mingled in a wedding of emotion and love; a taste of what would come…what was yet to be realized but promised in this one gesture.

“Oh, God, Billie, I love you so much. When we met at the picnic…I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. I didn’t know why.” She began to sob in Billie’s arms.

“I’m sohhreeee……that you don’t ….lllliiiiike meee.” She continued to weep. Billie took her hand and brushed Beth’s hair from her forehead. She softly pulled Beth to her and kissed her forehead like a blessing and said.

“Oh……Beth……I’m….so sorry. I do like you. I like you a lot.” She turned and Irene was gone from the hallway. Sandra had retreated to her office, leaving one lone figure in the archway at the end of the hally, where Cathilynn wiped her own tears with a handkerchief. She smiled and nodded once and then disappeared through her own office doorway. Billie turned again and looked at Beth, who had opened her eyes, her own beautful brown eyes. She smiled through her tears and placed her head on Billie’s shoulder.

“I like you, too. A lot.” She said and put her hand on Billie’s heart.

“A lot.”

---

Meanwhile, at Thai Gardens Restaurant:

“So…Andrea tells me you and she used to be in-laws?” Cal smiled as he sipped his green tea.
Janet smiled back but her body language was anything but welcoming.

“Yes, but not in the way you might suspect.” She smiled again, but her affect looked very nervous. She pushed her Salmon Panang with her fork.

“You were her ex-wife’s brother?” Cal smiled warmly; an entirely unexpected expression given what he had just said. He leaned over and grabbed Janet’s wrist softly and patted her hand. She put up no resistence, which surprised her more than it did Cal.

“Relax Janet. I’m an old hand at this.” He pointed to the wedding ring he still wore.

“Lydia worked at my step-brother’s clinic in Stockholm...it's where we met; and then as a nurse and later administrator before we relocated to Montreal.” He smiled at the warm grin widening on her face.

“Your step brother is…” She paused.

“Anders Nillson … your surgeon if I read the look on your face correctly.” He laughed softly at the growing irony of the conversation.

“Yes…I remember your wife…so sweet and supportive.” Janet’s eyes began to mist at the thought that her nurse had been the late wife of the man holding her hand.

“Oh...your Step-brother?” She asked. He nodded.

“Dad married his mom. He felt it was important for Anders to keep his family name; to honor his dad.” She nodded. What a remarkable family.

“I suppose I’m indebted to Andy one more time?” He smiled and looked at her again. She smiled back, but her expression grew quizzical.

“After all, I have him to thank for helping you on your journey. We might not have met otherwise, and that would have been an awful shame.” He surprised her by bringing her hand to his lips to kiss it softly.

There might have been a time where that gesture would not only have felt awkward, but downright embarrassing. She looked at his hand holding hers, and as they say, she melted. Right there in the restaurant between the main course and the complimentary vanilla ice cream.

He smiled once before speaking again. “I hate to impose, but there’s one last question I need to ask before we go any further. It’s really personal, and I hope it doesn’t make you too uncomfortable."

The very mention of the word uncomfortable did exactly what it wasn’t intended to do; it made her very anxious and worried about what he might ask. She nervously nodded yes.

“Janet McGuire, are you free for dinner?”

---

At the same time, across town:

“I’m so sorry. I wish I had better news, but we all knew this was almost a desperate measure.” Marnie Jensen sat at her desk, rubbing her face with her hand and blinking out some tears.

“There’s nothing desperate here, Marnie. We can always hope and pray.” Drea held Bella’s hand softly. “Still plenty of time, I’d say.” She smiled.

“Yes, I suppose that’s a good way of looking at it.” She bit her lip. In her years of practice, she had met many folks with faith that went beyond any prognosis. The couple in front of her seemed to thrive on challenge, from what she knew of them.

“I’m glad you’re our doctor, dear,” Bella said with a smile. I’ve known you since you were in kindergarten. To know that a friend is taking care of Drea means the world to me. “

“It’s times like this that challenge me and my faith.” Marnie said. “I know it’s not merely my skill and understanding as a doctor, but when I see something that affects people I actually know and care about, you know?” She shook her head and half-frowned, her own eyes uncharateristically tearing up.

“Oh, gosh, yes. I understand perfectly. When my sister was dying, I thought of how much effort you put into helping the whole family cope. And then I realized…she was your babysitter …she held you in her arms, and it must have hurt so bad to feel so helpless.” Bella began to mist up.

“I’m just glad things are at least better than we had expected even if they’re not as good as what we had hoped for.” Drea said as she smiled at Marnie. “I’m going to be alright…we’ve got time enough, okay?” She reached over and put her hand on Marnie's wrist, patting it softly. "We're going to be okay."

---

Back at the home:

Cathilynn sat at her desk looking out the window. She smiled at the thought of what she had just witnessed a short while before. Beth was a real work in progress, and she was so relieved to find that she was discovering finally discovering herself. Billie was really a Godsend in a way, and not just for Beth, but her own recovery was a real testimony to the great need and reward of working there at the home. A soft knock came at her doorway.

“Hey, Cathi, have you seen my Mom?” Candace asked as she stood against the doorway, almost as if she was half-hiding.

“She went out to lunch with a friend of Drea’s…I expect she’ll be back any minute.”

“O…okay…if you see her can you tell her that I’m home and I need to talk to her?” Her voice was anxious, as if there was something quite wrong.

“Okay, honey…Is there anything I can do?” Cathilynn asked. She took a sip of her cranberry juice and smiled.

“Ah…maybe…..yeah…I think so.” Candace stepped out from behind the doorway. Next to her stood a teen about her age. The child was wearing a tee shirt and jeans and Sketchers.

“My friend here needs a place to stay.” She pointed to the child, who looked almost androgynous at first glance. Candance turned and motioned for her friend to enter Cathilynn’s office.

“This is Ethan….” She hesitated before correcting herself as her friend shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking at her friend. “This is my friend…Emma.” Cathilynn looked the child up and down, and recognition flashed in her eyes.

“Candace? I thought we talked about this?” She frowned, but she wasn’t angry, just frustrated. She was going to continue but she noticed something that gave her pause. She blew out a breath, hoping she was wrong.

“Hi…Emma,” she hesitated as the girl stepped backward, her face beginning to redden.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay, I’m sorry if I was abrupt. So you’re a friend of Candace? School?” The girl nodded nervously and stepped forward, almost clinging to Candace while standing behind her.

“Sweetie, why don’t you sit down. I have some orange juice or water, are you thirsty?” She expected the girl would be very thirsty; she looked unhealthy and tired. Candace grabbed her by the arm and they both sat down in front of Cathi’s desk.

“She doesn’t talk much,” Candace said, looking at Emma, who sat quietly, almost cowering.

“Honey, are you alright?” Cathilynn asked. The girl remained silent as Candace shook her head. There were bruises around her left wrist and she looked like she hadn’t eaten for days.

“Candace, sweetie, why don’t you take Emma to the kitchen. There’s probably some pizza left from last night that you can have, okay?” She motioned to the doorway and noticing Emma’s distraction, she nodded and winked at Candace. The girls stood and walked out of the office and down the hall toward the kitchen. She looked out her doorway and then picked up the phone.

“Sam? We’ve got a problem.”

Finally: Love, Sweet Love!

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Gentle Rain
Words and Music by
Matt Dubay and Louis Bonfa
As Performed by
Lark and Spur
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0jOyC_O0ZI