When Kerrie slid behind the wheel, she turned to Bette, eyes sweeping over her like she was reading a book. "You're nervous."
Bette dropped the fake smile and allowed the worry lines around her mouth and eyes to settle onto her face. How did she disarm Bette so easily? "I am."
Kerrie held her hand out, gently squeezing Bette's when she took it. "Is it just the day, or is it something else?"
Bette fought the urge to bite her lip, not wanting to smear her recently applied lipstick. "I guess I'm—I don't know how to say it without coming off as an uppity bitch."
"Hey now, that's not a word that describes you," said Kerrie, running her other hand lightly up and down Bette's forearm. "No woman should be called a bitch. But go on and try to tell me."
Taking a deep breath, Bette shifted to put her other hand over Kerrie's, cupping it between her own. She stared down at their tangled hands. "I guess I'm worried about judgment. Every one of them we'll meet today is appearance and social status first, everything else second. I used to be one of them. Maybe I still am? I mean,I'm concerned about their judgment. And now, now I'm living in a tiny apartment, broke, and working at a non-profit that works with people they would look down upon. My mother included."
"So, this is your first time really being around them since you left the uppity flock?"
Bette snorted. "Yes."
"Are you worried they'll judge you for being with me?"
There was a long pause before Bette could bring herself to answer in a quiet voice. "Yes."
Kerrie squeezed her hand again. "Do you want me to stay here?"
Bette's head snapped up, her blonde locks swishing back and forth as she shook her head. "No, no, I want you to go. I don't think I can do this alone. I just—I just know them. You're nothing like them, and they'll find that to be a problem."
"I'm not new to judgment, Bette. People have been judging my actions, and some of them rightfully so, for decades. I'm not ashamed of who I am."
"I think you've done amazing. If people could see you with clients. With Kenny. They'd know your heart was huge."
Kerrie ducked her head, and her cheeks reddened as she let out a nervous chuckle. "Thank you. That means a lot. I'll be right beside you today. You won't be facing them alone."
"Thank you," expressed Bette softly. She wanted to pull Kerrie to her. To kiss her. To touch her more, but they hadn't crossed that point yet, and her nerves got the better of her.
"You're welcome. So, you ready to go show up your ex and mother?"
"Yes," said Bette with a grin.
The private college was in the neighboring town, about 25 minutes away. It was a small college with less than 2000 students, including nighttime students. Shelly had wanted Zoe to go to some prestigious college, but she had been adamant that she wanted to stay local. Between Zoe's stubbornness and Bette's unwavering support, Shelly had to give.
They were able to find the last available parking spot in the visitor's lot. It wasn't that close to the auditorium, but it wasn't too far. It was, however, up a large hill. The hike up didn't look fun.
"Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off closer so you don't have to go up this hill in those?" Kerrie asked, pointing to Bette's wedge heels, which were the color of chalk—just a hair off from white.
Bette laughed, looking down at her feet. "These are actually more comfortable than they look. I'll be fine, but thank you for looking out for me."
"If you say so," said Kerrie, her face showing she wasn't convinced.
People flowed in natural lines like ants, moving up the sidewalk to the auditorium where the graduation was being held. Bette wondered where Zoe was. She would be with the other graduates somewhere and hoped that it wouldn't be hard to find her afterward.
As they topped the hill, both of them huffing and puffing from the exertion, Bette's phone buzzed. They stepped out of the line of people trekking their way to the auditorium as Bette fished her phone from her handbag. Her mother's name flashed on the screen, and she couldn't suppress the groan that tumbled out of her mouth, earning her a raised eyebrow from Kerrie. She rolled her eyes and answered, "Hello, Mother."
"Where are you?" demanded Clara. Bette could hear crowd chatter in the background.
"I'm outside the auditorium."
"Well, hurry up; I'm saving you a seat. They're filling up fast," demanded Clara, a hint of franticness in her voice.
"I need two seats saved. I've—uh, I've brought a date."
The other side of the line went silent, save for the crowd around the matriarch of the Cooper family. Bette tried her best not to cringe, not wanting to make Kerrie feel bad. She hadn't told her mother about Kerrie. She only knew that a coworker was the owner of the apartment she had rented. Her mother had scoffed at that, finding a basement apartment beneath a Cooper. Bette knew some of it was bitterness from Bette leaving while her mother was out of town. Clara had not been happy about it.
