Bette’s carefully chosen outfits for each of the weekend’s events hung in the room’s large closet.  The star-struck intern that had been assigned as her assistant for the weekend had whisked the clothes from the suitcases to the lodge’s housekeepers for steaming and pressing.  If Bette had forgotten that she was the famous and important Bette Porter, the anxious and eager-to-please graduate student would have reminded her.

“Ms. Porter, is there anything else I can do?  Anything at all.  I’m happy, no, delighted to do anything.  I’m so hope that I can live up to your expectations.”

“You’ve taken excellent care of me, Ms. Grantham.  I can’t think of another thing I need.”

“Please call me Dina.”

Bette’s cordial “but don’t cross any lines” smile graced her face, “Dina, why don’t you check on the guest list for dinner and make sure that the restaurant knows how many settings for the table.”

Bette sympathized when she saw disappointment cross the young woman’s face.  She had expected to be invited to address Bette by her first name.  “Belton Paisley RSVP’ed,” Dina responded, hoping she could initiate a discussion about art.  The unfortunate young woman lacked the common sense to not mention the man who had become America’s greatest sculptor when Jodi had died.  Bette liked the man, and he was attending the symposium from genuine admiration for Jodi.  It wasn’t his fault that to Bette he represented the beginning of the slow inevitable dimming of Jodi’s place in contemporary art.

Being a mother to three very different children had made Bette kinder overall.  She had not altered her standards, but she was gentler to those who could not satisfy them.  She still moved the unsatisfactory out of her sphere, but with the gentlest of touches.

The intern exasperated Bette. She was always suspicious of those who made sure to verbalize how nervous and eager to please they were.  Bette thought that if they were asking for sympathy from the outset, they must already know that they will screw up. Bette had little tolerance for someone who assumed he would screw up.  She carefully distinguished that from someone who did screw up.  She felt that those who assumed an imperfect execution must know that they did not do the best they could have done to prepare for the assignment.