"Kimmie?"
Voices. Always voices. And just when had she been dumped into an insane asylum? A fluffy pillow pressed around her ears would dull the noise, block away every bad thing happening.
"Kimmie?"
Her arms hadn't even reached for the pillow. So much for a cooperating body. She fell back on the bed, sighing deeply and loving the way the air was fresh. Not that stuff pumped in. Yes, she was grateful to be back. She was in her own room with her own things kept just the way they were supposed to have been kept because this room unlike everything else in her life had known that she would one day return.
"Mom?" she finally responded.
The door opened. Was it right that someone like her mother should have to climb that damn ladder in order to speak to her own daughter? Kim should apologize. But there was her mother, her beautiful and wonderful mother, slipping up through the floor door with the skill of a ten-year old. She had kept herself in fine shape. It was the face that was different. She had aged more than she should have, and the reason was clear. Would the back-from-the-dead incident change things enough?
Kim sat up, smiling through the dried tears that painfully clung to her eyelids. "Mom, I'm glad you're here."
"How often have we said that lately?" Her mother joined her on the bed, slid her arm around her shoulders. Kim collapsed sideways. She could hardly move. Suddenly it was like the other day, seeing her parents, hugging them, touching them.
"Mommy, I'm so glad to be home."
Her mother did not respond. She brushed her finger over Kim's eyes. "You've been crying."
"Ron."
"It's always been Ron."
Yes, it has. Ron from the beginning. Always Ron, that constant in her life. The one who had torn away his touch from her as if she were truly the corpse she was supposed to be. "He left."
"We saw."
"Why didn't you come up earlier?"
"Because I think we still think of you as our teenage daughter. It's impossible to make that change, but we're trying. Too much time has been skipped."
Kim rolled her eyes and sat up. "I'm sick of hearing about this."
"Hearing about what?"
"All these charming little droplets of sadness about how this family has been ruined. We all get it. Everyone gets it." She was not sure where the words had come from, but she could taste the satisfaction in speaking them.
To her surprise, her mother laughed. Not a humorous laugh, but finally a connection Kim could make. "I agree. We've done it. I want my daughter back."
"And I want my mother back."
The room was silent. Pleasantly silent, to Kim's further amazement. A few slow moments where the past caught up with the present of the room.
"Mom, Ron is getting married to Monique."
"We all know."
"It hurts."
"It's supposed to hurt, Kimmie. What did you expect?"
Kim shook her head. "He came up here with me."
"We know."
Was she completely separated from privacy?
"What happened up here?"
Kim spread a hand over the bedspread, and a shock traveled up through her arms as she considered the almost of the day. "Too much."
Her mother inhaled sharply. "What do you mean? You slept with him?"
"I think that might have happened." She put her hand to her head, carrying the shock with it. "I've never been like that. I didn't expect it to happen. I just… I just wanted him so badly. It's been a rotten day. Every stupid adventure from before coming back to haunt me. It's like a bad movie."
"Kimmie, what happened?"
"We kissed, Mom. That was it." She closed her eyes. "I've kissed an engaged man."
"It's completely understandable."
"Yeah, yeah, I get that. Is this how you raised me? To lure other women's men into my clutches?"
"Ron was yours first."
"Mom, what are you telling me to do?"
She sighed. The scientist unable to give an answer. "I'm going to give you a warning. Don't dig up the past. What's happened has happened."
"I thought we didn't want anymore clichés."
"They keep coming. Someone's downstairs for you, if you can handle it."
"I just want a real life again."
The visitor was Brick, sitting on her parents' couch drinking a lemonade. How charming. The neighborhood cop. He smiled as she entered the living room and stood up. "I came to check on you."
She stared at him.
He nodded. "I wanted to make sure everything was… okay."
The chip. He meant the chip. "No danger yet."
"That's good."
"See me to my car?"
Why not?
She followed him out into the darkness. Why did she so lately cling to everything with the darkness? Comforting memory of all those years locked up?
Brick had not brought his police car. Just an old thing, she couldn't even recognize the model. "Nice car."
"Thanks."
She shivered and squeezed her arms over her chest. "Why are we out here?"
He was silent. "I'm not really sure why I came over."
"To make sure the chip hasn't been discovered yet? Protecting Tara's identity?"
He shrugged. He was like some hulking shape in the darkness. He had always been tall, since pre-k. She liked that about him. All through schooling she could count on Brick Flagg to be tall, beefy, and imposing. Like having a pet boulder. "Do you know I don't really talk to anyone from high school? Just a few buddies?"
"Really? Weren't you Mr. Popular?"
"And weren't you Miss?" He laughed. "I was really different back then."
"Nah. I'd say you were still the same."
"Based on what? A couple of days?"
"You were always a leader. You just never used it. Now look at you. Out there, serving the community. Go you."
Another shug.
"And come on. It's like you were never mean. Do you remember that time Ron spread that rumor about us? You were actually rather gentlemanly about the whole thing. I mean, for a high school student."
"I was kind of a jerk."
She leaned up against his car, wondering why she didn't just end the conversation and head back inside where it was warm and she didn't have to be the voice of reason. Just how had she managed to get herself into this position? "Again, why are we out here?"
"I don' t think you realized just how much everyone missed you. Not just your family. Kim, you're like a legend around here." He took hold of the car's door handle, preparing to open.
He was so close to her. What was he doing?
"Brick, what's wrong?"
The silence was too long to create any honesty. "Nothing."
"You're lying."
And then he let go of the door. One hand on her cheek, lips pressed over hers, just a little more than a peck. But not a peck.
She whirled away, gasping. "Brick!"
"Goodnight." He climbed into the car and drove off.
