Hope by Marjorie Jones

Author:Marjorie Jones [Jones, Marjorie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Indie Artist Press
Published: 2014-01-13T00:00:00+00:00

Her very many children and grandchildren.

Several of whom were gay, as it turned out.

By the time they left, Bette’s head was spinning and her stomach was pleasantly full. If she could keep it down tonight, when the exhaustion overtook her, she’d be happier still.

Happy.

Was she happy?

Hope took her to several points of interest in Little Italy before they jumped in a cab to go back to Bette’s hotel. They talked about their lives. Bette told Hope about her job in Salt Lake City, at a health food store. Yes, she’d tried melatonin when the insomnia started. No, she hadn’t had any luck with it. Hope told Bette about her father and how much he wanted to be an astronaut, but was horrible at math. So, he flew jets in the Navy and retired to Florida a few years ago.

She had six brothers and no sisters, except for Paula, who was twelve years younger than she was. Her first dog was named Buck and he died when she was twenty. She hadn’t owned a pet since. She went to medical school in Chicago and fell into her job with Brian Ravi two years ago after meeting him at a conference.

He’d asked her out, she’d told him she was a lesbian, thanks just the same, and he’d hired her on the spot. He didn’t elaborate, but she thinks it was because she could be direct, even if it meant hurting someone’s feelings.

It felt like a date. A really nice date, actually.

Maybe it was the power of suggestion, but Bette couldn’t help but think that, in some other life, some other situation, she might very well fall in love with Hope Michaels. Twice, over the course of the afternoon, Hope had grabbed her arm to show her something in a store window. With each touch, the electrical impulses in her brain that controlled the electrical impulses in her nerves had split apart like fireworks. She was beautiful. She was excited. She was kind. A straight-shooter. A karmic attraction for good. Alive.

Everything about her was alive. She didn’t merely exist. She participated in every moment of her life, from crossing the street, to breathing, to singing along with the music falling from a shopkeeper’s radio.

Bette couldn’t remember what that was like.

Three times, over the course of the afternoon, Bette had been forced to remind herself that it wasn’t a date – it was a job. She’d had to stop herself from stealing a kiss in the souvenir shop. By the newsstand. At the bakery.

The sun had set before they climbed out of a cab at the hotel.

“I guess, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m supposed to go back for the results in the morning, right?” Bette shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans to get them out of the wind.

“I’m coming up.” Hope paid the driver and climbed out of the car.

“You don’t have to. I’ll be fine. No more bat people.”

“I’m staying the night, silly. We’ll go back to the hospital in the morning.

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