2004
The workout was horrible. She felt out of shape and old – she wasn't getting the height or speed that she wanted out of her body anymore. It was depressing, and she found herself aborting halfway through her second routine.
Once she returned to her home it was even worse. She had to stare at the boxes and imagine how she was going to fill the house with herself – make very corner feel like a piece of Kimberly, as her old homes had been. She'd never had to decorate by herself before...her things in Florida had melded with her roommates', and then the condo had been so much of him. It was daunting, to imagine turning an empty, cold shell of a place into a home without anyone else's input. Everything would be by her design and decision...a lovely, terrible thought.
The place to start was of course her bedroom. She dug out her pajamas – comforting pink and white cotton, naturally – and twisted her hair up in a clip. The furniture had been put together and placed – very awkwardly, in her opinion – against the far wall. She wrinkled her nose at the arrangement and sighed. First, arranging, second, decorating. Besides, she loved moving furniture, it was an exercise in feng shui. Once the bed was where she wanted it, everything else rather fell into place. Bedside tables near the headboard, full length mirror just outside the bathroom and comfy reading chair in the corner near her closet – lamp directly above the chair. Once that was arranged the decorating was easy as well, a cream-colored blanket went over her soft pale pink bedspread – the color just barely peeking out through the lacy crocheted overlay. A few impressionist prints hung on the wall and it was a homey place with a touch of Kimberly at every glance. Particularly if one glanced at the massive stack of luggage in one corner.
Kimberly's closet would be hours in and of itself...it was color coded, with multiple subsets of pink. Everything went from darkest to lightest, starting with orange and working across the color spectrum to end in the three classifications of pink – hot, pastel and mixed (into which almost all patterns fell). Luckily her bags were coded in the same fashion, and thus easy to put up. Unluckily, she had absolutely no inclination to try it. She chose instead to scowl at it and go downstairs to unpack her kitchen.
Part of the problem of unpacking, she was finding, was that none of her things matched the color scheme in the house. Being a firm believer that one can never feel at home in a place one hasn't decorated him or herself, this disturbed her 'decorating chi' as she called it. She knew she would have to pain eventually...but the thought was daunting in such a massive place. Maybe those kids she wanted to hire to paint the shutters would be good enough to warrant being allowed inside...there had always been a guy or two in her high school looking to pad his 'first car fund' with odd jobs like this.
Dishes away, pots and pans hung from the rack over the stove and her pretty place mats in a row on the bar, Kimberly finally felt satisfied. She had two rooms completely down, with her bathroom significantly on its way. The fact that the house had an additional den and three more bedrooms was something she didn't feel like contemplating at the moment. She pursed her lips and headed back upstairs, settling herself to the idea of perfecting the bathroom. Everything in her bathroom was a soft, warm peach – not pink, as she had sternly defended herself when she picked out the color for her first 'grown up' home.
The chocolate-colored marble of the master bathroom worked quite well with her old accessories. If the rest of the house was empty and very 'not Kim', she could at least lay her claim to her bed and bathrooms. She could secure her personality in these small regions.
And most importantly, she could enjoy the fruits of her labors in the small but powerful jets of her jacuzzi tub. The bath was just as good as she had been anticipating. Every ache and pain of the past weeks seemed to melt in the magic water. There was a switch above the tub to dim the lights, so she could lean back and relax in the soft and gentle glow of the lamps. Her bubble-bath had arrived unscathed, so it was definitely turning out to be a fabulous experience.
She emerged in a fluffy white bathrobe, towel around her head and curled up in bed. She looked around the room at her pretty belongings and tried to feel at home...but she knew that home was gone now. It had been almost two years now...but as she had done almost every night since, Kimberly cried herself to sleep.
The next morning she awoke bleary eyed but far more cheerful. The timer on her percolator meant she awoke to the rich smell of vanilla-caramel coffee; and she found she had the ability to face the day. She decided that she would avoid the police station at all costs today, and could thus dress as she pleased. A pale pink floral sun dress was just the ticket – a few minutes later she had her long, dark hair tied in two loose pigtails at the base of her neck and felt ready to meet the world. She fully intended to meet it from her front porch, with a rather fantastic shield to protect her.
Kimberly curled up on the wicker lounger, her guitar in her lap and a pick in her mouth. She needed this outlet, the release that only music could truly give. Her fingers slid over the strings, the low smooth tones already soothing her soul. The notes she had put to paper months earlier rang through the evening air, her pain echoing within all who could hear. She opened her mouth and her voice escaped, sharing a tiny piece of her with the world.
"Waiting
inside me
she sees her reflection
she hides
she does not
speak
down in the valley of trials and confusion
she cries
but
is not weak
and I'm here
and I'm awake
and I'm tired of
today
cause it goes on and on and on
after a moment of time
and delusion
I feel her heart break
so I ask forgiveness
and
pray revolution
will steal her soul away
but I'm here and I'm
awake
and I'm tired of today
cause it goes on and on and
on"
Her voice cracked at the end, and she shuddered the song to a close. She was startled to hear a whispered 'wow' from the corner of her yard. A blonde girl with a half-eaten yellow lollypop in her hand was staring wide-eyed. "Sorry, I just - that was amazing."
Kimberly took a deep breath to center herself and smiled - if it was a bit watery, the girl didn't comment. "It's okay," she waved the younger girl up on the porch. "I'm Kim. I don't bite."
The girl fiddled with her mustard-colored hoody and smiled hesitantly. "I'm Kira. I live down the street and I just heard while I was heading into town...sorry I really didn't mean to intrude."
"It's cool, I just moved in yesterday so I had to let out some stress," she laughed a little. "Sometimes music is the best cure for what ails you."
Kira nodded furtively. "Oh, I'm a musician myself, singer-songwriter-guitarist. I don't think I'm quite as good as you are though," she bit her lower lip. "Sorry I just feel really awkward I don't normally get caught staring at people on their porches."
"Yeah you seem way more the peeping through bedroom window type."
Kira look stricken and Kimberly laughed. Kira relaxed suddenly and grinned. "Okay, so being a newby, how are you enjoying Reefside?"
Kimberly set aside her guitar and stood up, moving to the rail by Kira. "Oh, it's alright. I haven't seen a Power Ranger yet but who knows what the day will bring, right?"
The blonde's eyes widened. "You moved here because of Power Rangers?"
"Nah, but they're cool aren't they?" Kimberly grinned and hopped up on the rail. "I was just kidding. I'm way more interested in the local mall than the local Rangers."
Kira laughed a little. "It's not far from here. So are you going to Reefside?"
Kimberly frowned and tilted her head, looking at Kira quizzically.
"High," she clarified, but when the older woman's face didn't clear she went further. "Reefside High. For school?"
Kimberly burst into peals of laughter. "Oh you have just given me the best compliment ever. I'm almost twenty-six hon, and as of Monday I'll be the new Chief of Police."
The younger girl looked mortified. "Oh my god. I really didn't mean to – I mean, not to say you look like a teenager – but..."
"I know I'm short," Kimberly giggled a bit. "I don't exactly look like an authority figure when I'm wearing pigtails, so really it's okay. Just don't tell the people down at the station you thought I was a kid, I'm having enough trouble getting them to take me seriously as it is."
Kira looked to be on the brink of apologizing again so Kimberly held up a hand to silence her.
"Tell you what, in exchange for you interrupting me and telling me I look like a little kid, how about you tell me where a girl can get a good cup of coffee in this town?"
She grinned and held out a hand to her new police chief. "Deal. You need to change?"
Kimberly quirked an eyebrow. "Well at least if I go like this everyone will think I'm your age and I won't get any crap about being a pervert."
Kira laughed then. "Then let's go, I know the perfect place.
The song is by our own Amy Jo...it's called Cat in the Snow. Good song.
