Kate seems somewhat surprised when she wakes in Betty's full-sized bed, instead of her own smaller one in the next room. Their bodies are pressed together, separated only by the thin fabric of their slips and underthings. Their closeness has Betty feeling a low and not entirely unwelcome heat in her body. Kate blinks at her twice, unspeaking, before glancing down at their tightly pressed bodies and tangled limbs.
Kate quickly moves to disentangle herself and dress. Is she scared? Troubled by it all? She'd long known any thought of sex was frightening to Kate. Even now though? They were closer than they'd ever been. They kissed, hugged, held hands, danced, and walked to work with their arms linked. It had been that way ever since the trial, ever since both names were miraculously cleared and Betty had returned to Vic Mu.
With Kate, Betty admits to herself, it's difficult to tell. Last month when they'd moved in, they'd had very little furniture, they are still in the slow expensive process of furnishing their home. Since moving in to the house, the gentle balance between them, the space between friends and lovers was shrinking, or seemed to be. There was no one here to see, or spy or tell them that it was wrong.
They ready for work almost silently, Betty putting the kettle on for tea as they both eat a quick breakfast. She switches on the small radio, news speaking of more victories in Italy, as the Allied forces continue to push the Germans back towards the north.
She'd smile at the news, but is distracted by Kate, eating her toast rather solemnly. It leaves Betty uncertain of whether the look on Kate's face is due to a hangover headache or having woken up in such proximity.
Finally Kate speaks, "The punch was so sweet, I had no idea it would be so strong."
"Headache?" Betty asks knowingly, "Best get moving anyways. We have a higher quota with the day off tomorrow."
Kate drinks her tea so quickly, Betty becomes convinced that she's scalded her tongue, they bundle up and rush off to catch the streetcar.
Vic Mu looks the same, Christmas has done little to alter the factory, aside from a collection of decorations in the canteen. There's no time for smoking outside the factory today, Betty laments slightly, though her fingers feel cold and probably are happier to quickly move in to change.
Lorna greets them the same, "Miss McRae, Miss Andrews."
"Mrs. Corbett." Betty nods her head, a hand goes to her shoulder stopping her from following Kate directly inside. She's aware they are almost late, on the later side for blue shift, she wonders if she's about to be scolded.
"How was the wedding?" Lorna asks softly, Betty wondered why she hadn't attended and had decided to chalk it up to Catholic-Protestant issues, though now she wonders.
"Good. It was really nice." Betty responds instantly.
"Good. Good," Lorna pauses, "I'm very happy for Mr. and Mrs. Moretti, I hope to extend my congratulations when they both return to work."
"I'm sure they'll appreciate that ma'am." Betty nods and moves to go inside.
"Bob and I are having a dinner, tomorrow at 4 pm. Won't be as much with the rationing, but you and Miss Andrews are welcome to attend." Lorna offers quietly, Betty nods enthusiastically in response. She's not about to turn down a meal of Mrs. Corbett's cooking, probably better than whatever her and Kate could manage to patch together at home.
The girls sing on the line that day, Kate leading the carols and hymns cheerfully as she works the stencil line.
Gladys cheerfully joins in, singing along with Kate.
Betty remains silent, but smiling. Nodding to encourage the continuing of caroling without joining in herself.
At tea break most of the women are chatting happily, excited for Christmas, and their day off tomorrow when the line will be shut down for the day.
"What's with Kate?" Gladys turns to ask when Kate has gone to wish a Merry Christmas to Leon.
"Oh she had too much punch last night, wound up falling asleep in my bed and woke up with a hangover." Betty answers as casually as she dares. Kate's behaviour isn't as much of a mystery as usual, though multiple explanations remain.
It doesn't attract attention when Gladys leans in to answer in a hushed tone, "Isn't that... the normal state of affairs... minus the punch?"
Betty shakes her head no. She's kissed Kate, certainly, and Kate had made it clear since they'd moved that her home was with Betty. She cannot explain this here, or even to Gladys, though Gladys always seems to know what is between her friends.
"Leon says the church service will be tomorrow at nine," Kate returns to their table smiling happily, "I told him we'd both be there."
Gladys raises her eyebrows, saying nothing and takes a long drink of her tea.
"Alright." Betty agrees.
The work day passes quickly, the songs both alleviating the drowsiness and tension that usually accompanies their work. The line shuts down early, Mr. Aikens having decided to give the ladies a little extra time for families and church. Or rather, the matron arguing for it for weeks had finally sunk it.
"Are you two going to be okay for Christmas Eve?" Gladys asks, head over her shoulder as she dresses after a quick shower to wash off the chemicals.
"Oh yes, we'll just have a quiet night in." Kate smiles. Betty decides then to give Kate a little space, let her come to her when she wants to talk. Or not... whatever the case may be.
"And tomorrow? I could tell my mother that you're coming. She'd probably pretend to faint again, but that's half the fun!" Gladys invites them, almost cheekily, as if the chance to irritate her family is too much to pass up.
"We have plans, Princess, the matron beat you to it." Betty tells her, happy to avoid the discomfort that is the Witham residence this time of year, or any time of year.
"Mrs. Corbett? Really?" Kate asks sliding into her slip before reaching for her dress.
"She must like you Betty." Gladys teases, "I doubt too many of the girls merited an invitation to the Corbett household."
She shushes Gladys, brushing her off, as she pulls on her pants, shirt, and coat. It never takes Betty as long to dress as some of the other girls, though that may be as due to personality as taste in clothing. She grits her teeth as she approaches the exit, steeling herself for the burst of cold air that she will have to endure as soon as the outside door opens.
"Betty, wait up!" Kate jogs after her from the changing room, gloves and hat still in her hand as she finishes buttoning her old coat.
She turns, watching almost in disbelief as Kate links their arms and fixes her hat before guiding her gently out the door.
Are we okay then? Betty thinks to herself. They pass by a grocer's, stuffed full with people, thankful that she bought groceries the day before and would not have to wrestle through the crowds again. The line is out to the street in the butcher's stop. A quiet Christmas Eve just the two of them sounds perfect to Betty McRae.
Together, they manage to prepare a decent meal in the tiny kitchen, humming along to the Christmas carols on the radio as they do so. Kate sings and Betty grins, the smile almost taking over her face as she beams at the woman she's so delighted to share her home with, in any capacity.
Neither of them is a great cook, and Betty is not ready to divulge the German cooking skills she picked up from her Oma in her youth, so they make do. Rationing, further limiting their ability to celebrate. But it's Christmas, she finally lives in her house, and Kate is here.
They eat contentedly, by candlelight laughing, pleased with the world, the Allies' progress in Europe and the company. They leave the radio on until Kate stands to flick it off.
Their living room has only one comfortable chair and a table, the couch is at least several more paychecks away, but Kate promised it will be sooner. Betty pulls her dinner chair into the living room to sit with Kate. They do at least have a tree, sparsely decorated with paper chains and tinsel, stringed popcorn and whatever else they could manage.
Kate sings again, "I'll be home for Christmas..."
Betty smiles, looking around the sparsely furnished room, right now it could not possibly feel more like home. Kate's voice has almost lulled her into a trance, she's so comfortable, so happy that she doesn't notice at first when Kate has stopped singing.
"Why'd you stop?" Betty asks, "Do you want me to put on the kettle for more tea? Or lime cordial from the kitchen?"
"No, I want you to sing with me. It's Christmas, Betty."
"I really just like listening. I don't really sing, I barely know any songs." Betty suggests hopefully, as if this will be the end of the conversation. Stille Nacht, her mind reminds her of cold nights in a tiny farmhouse, her Oma and father singing along with her and her brothers. A mish-mosh of English and German, and song.
"Come on," Kate encourages her, "You must know at least one Christmas song."
"Kate..."
"Betty," Kate pleads slightly, "Sing with me."
Of course, Kate begins to sing Silent Night, despite herself Betty finds herself softly singing along.
It's only when Kate's eyes narrow slightly that she realizes that she isn't singing in English, she corrects herself, but slips back into German inadvertently on the third verse. Kate doesn't stop singing though, and her face relaxes somewhat as they continue to sing.
"Is that Dutch?" Kate suggests flippantly when the song is over, knowing full well what language Betty was signing in. Kate's more than willing to keep pretending, to play whatever little game this is, at being 'normal'.
"German." Betty responds, "My grandmother... she used to sing it in German." She finishes somewhat sheepishly, ashamed. Kate may already know, she thinks, from that night with the prisoner of war, she'd noticed that Betty had understood him.
But Kate doesn't look at her any differently, "It's pretty. Doesn't matter what language you sing it in."
"I'm tired," Betty announces getting to her feet, "Night Kate." She calls over her shoulder as she goes to clean herself up in the bathroom before bed.
She goes to bed, quickly slipping out of her remaining clothes and into pajamas before crawling into her bed.
Kate appears in the doorway, dressed only in her dressing gown and nightie, it's not an unfamiliar sight these days.
"What is it Kate?" Betty sits up in bed, looking at her.
"It's all very romantic," Kate starts up, "Marco and Vera getting married, honeymooning, sharing a bed."
Betty shakes her head, "Why are we talking about Marco and Vera's marriage bed? And Kate? They're moving in with Marco's mother, and I think his sisters still live at home too. It's not exactly a recipe for romance."
"That's not what I meant." Kate backtracks slightly.
"What? You want your own husband? Your own wedding night and marriage bed? A crowd to pelt you with rice, and punch that gets your guests drunk? You don't have to stay here forever if you don't want to Kate, I... I mean you know I love you, and sometimes... I honestly think that you love me... but..." Betty trails off again, she's upsetting herself, only upsetting herself with this conversation.
"That's not what I'm saying." Kate stops her.
"It's Christmas, Kate, just go get some sleep. We have church in the morning." Betty flops back on her bed, tugging the blankets up to her chin.
Kate nods, lifting the edge of the blankets and slipping in beside her. Betty cannot stop herself from smiling, it seemed Kate's mood today could be attributed to a hangover alone. Kate's feet feel cold, but she doesn't mind as Kate slides herself a little closer under the blankets.
"Is this okay?" Kate asks.
"The offer to sleep in here always stands, nightmares or not. Get some sleep, Kate." Betty advises her friend? Her ...companion?
"Just let me finish," Kate shakes her head, "This is my marriage bed, this... is my wedding night or the closest thing I'll ever have."
"Kate." Betty breathes, almost in disbelief as Kate leans in to kiss her gently full on the mouth.
"This is the life I choose, this Christmas, and all the ones that follow." Kate says softly once their lips have parted.
"No more talk of you moving out?" Betty jokes, attempting to lighten the mood, diffuse some of the fire that has ignited inside her body.
"No." Kate kisses her again, drawing her closer, enfolding her in her arms. Betty responds tenderly, trying to slow things down, just in case Kate changes her mind, makes a run for the door and the safety of the other room.
It's only when Kate's trembling hands go to the buttons of her pajamas does she realize that she's entirely serious, fixed on following through.
"I love you." Kate whispers as she works the buttons, hands slowly growing more sure.
"I know." Betty whispers back, claiming her mouth with a kiss, her own hands going to grip the flannel of Kate's nightgown, remove all the remaining layers between them.