Dinner could have gone worse, but I think that would involve the spilling of blood. I’m not ready for that.

I’m not sure what was more surprising to me, the fact that Jess was able to ruin Bette’s blouse during the course of dinner, or the fact that Bette took this in stride. While I can’t say I’m pleased by what’s happened, I do think it was an accident on her part. Jess seemed genuinely upset by the incident; far more so than Bette.

Bette tried to make light of things while Jess tried to not cry.

Meanwhile, I’m wondering if this wasn’t some colossal mistake.

If we’re going to start somewhere, I suppose there’s going to be some bumps along the way. This all presupposes that we have to start. Is this just a chapter that should have been closed long ago?

Perhaps if I had been more honest with Jess about the past, she wouldn’t have found a need to go running off to meet Bette.

Perhaps I’m just here because of my own needs, putting myself before Jess.

How does the song go? Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

And then while Bette was trying to ease things with Jess, she brought up one of the incidents that spelled the beginning of the end, her first major disappearing act. That might have helped Jess, but I’m not sure it did much for me. Except cause me to recall my greatest fear of letting Bette back into my life.

The silence for most of the rest of dinner was almost painful.

I haven’t felt like there’s much to discuss. Okay, there is much to discuss, I’m sure, but I haven’t decided that I want to proceed with those discussions.

After the spill, Jess was pretty much rapped up in her own thoughts.

With all my doubts about a renewed relationship, I have to admit, the old attraction remains. Earlier, when the conversation was flowing easily, I could have just as easily taken her hand, as we might have once upon a time.

Why does this woman have this affect on me?

For her part, Bette is reaching out, metaphorically if not physically. But is that enough? Then again, she’s the one who wanted to be here, she should be the one to make the effort for us to connect.

What little conversation went through the end of the meal mostly went to general pleasantries and a minor squabble over the check. Bette wanted to treat, but I thought that I should pay for me and Jess.

We compromised with Bette covering the bill while I paid the tip.

Why must I have trouble accepting even the smallest of gifts from Bette? The dinner itself was reasonable. Of course, for her, it’s a much higher cost based on the blouse. I’ll offer to replace that. Later, when Jess can’t hear.

So, I guess this means I will be talking to Bette.

More precisely, maybe I should be talking to Bette. Why do I keep hiding behind Jess? Can’t I trust myself around Bette Porter?

Probably not, truth be told. Although it’s been a long time since our one ill-fated attempt at reconciliation, that involved a long period together and little talk.

Lunch with the girls might be a good start, to at least get us out and talking with each other in a neutral and safe environment.

We will need to be together, alone, though, to address some of the bigger issues.

Perhaps, and I notice that my thoughts seem to keep falling back to conditional words, perhaps if the two of us met somewhere public, it would be safe.

What if Bette just wants to settle with us as a family unit, more so than with me as a wife? Now I’m back to wondering about all of those who I know have graced her life. Can I really measure up to that, or am I just being foolishly hormonal? Again, Im falling back to thoughts of my own needs. I have no idea that Bette might be remotely interested in the same thing.

A more platonic relationship would be a problem, logistically. The house only has two bedrooms, and Im not sure I want to uproot everything to take in a boarder.

Would Bette insist on coming back if that was her intention?

As we walk out of the restaurant, each of the three of us sunk into our own thoughts, Bette gives Jess a cordial handshake goodbye, her other hand tugging her jacket closed so that the stain is less apparent.

Then she looks to me, but makes no effort to make contact. “Tomorrow?” Her voice contains what sounds like a small amount of hope.

“Did you want to call Alice and Shane?” Let’s see if it’s really going to be a group effort.

Bette nods.

“Let me know what they say.” I toss an arm over Jess’s shoulder. “We’ll discuss it on the way home. Call me tomorrow morning.”

The look on Bette’s face can best be described as confusion. I’m okay with that, since this whole situation can often best be described as confusion. Confusing for me, at least.

When we got into the car, Jess was still stuck in her silent act.

“She knows I didn’t mean it, right?”

And now I find myself in the position of Bette’s defender. “She knows.” I hope she was being honest with my daughter.

“Good.” Jess sits back, looking slightly more confident.

“So?” Time to take advantage of our car captivity for a debriefing.

“So?” And time for Jess to again play clueless.

“What did you think?”

“You mean besides the fact that I can be the world’s most embarrassing klutz?”

At least she’s lightening up slightly about the incident. “Yeah,” I give her a supportive smile. “Besides that.”

“She has good table manners.”

That’s my Jess. If you can’t find a way out of speaking, say something irrelevant.

How about a little more substance, Jess? “Aside from that, now that you’ve spent a little more time with her, has your opinion of Bette Porter changed?”

(tbc)