At the beckoning of her outstretched arms, Kit ran and hugged her mother tightly. She felt five years old again. In the safe haven of her mothers’ arms she was protected from the big, wide, horribly disappointing world of her maturity.
Her mother drew back and took a long, overly-analysing look at her. “You look thin,” she commented, “and tired”
Kit let the “thin” comment pass, but replied, “I think I could probably sleep for a week.”
“It’s been a long time, baby” her mother noted.
“I’ve been pretty busy” Kit said, trying to avoid Gladys’ direct stare.
“Busy for six years. You must be even more tired than you look”
Looking around at nothing in particular, Kit shrugged, “Brandon Bay hasn’t changed much”
“No, it hasn’t”
“It’s hot” Kit remarked, at a loss.
“Dog days of summer have kicked in”
Facing her mom, she smiled a little. “Thanks for letting me come stay, I really appreciate it”
“Kit, you may not have visited any in the last six years,” When Kit started to speak; Gladys raised her hand to stop her, “but this is still your home. And it always will be”
“Thanks mom. I must say, it feels strange to be back home” she replied sincerely.
“There’s no place like it, so they say” her mother replied with a knowing smile.
Kit rolled her eyes. Gladys was at it again with the proverbs. But it wasn’t quite as grating on the nerves as she remembered. The smile her mother gave her had her thinking that maybe her mother had a sense of humour.
“You never run out of them, do you?” Kit responded with smirk.
“Well, you know me. Always ready with an appropriate remark” she said, ushering Kit towards the front door.
******
After putting her bags in her old room, Kit joined her mother at the kitchen table. Her mother had made the requisite visitor cup of herbal tea, and paired it with home-made scones she’d baked that morning.
“My room looks different” Kit stated as she smothered a scone with raspberry jam.
“Well, you could hardly expect me to keep it as a shrine” she replied with a small chuckle.
“No. I guess not.”
“I use it as a meditation room now.”
Well, of course you do, Kit thought unkindly.
Gladys peered over the lip of her cup, and studied her daughter. “How’s the scone?”
“Great. Just like when I was a kid” she shot back.
“Good. So I was wondering …?” Gladys began.
“Yes?” Kit cut in. Uh-oh, she thought, here we go!
“I was wondering …, just how long you think you’ll be hiding out here?”
“Hiding out?” Kit said in a huff. “I am not hiding out mother! Might I remind you that you asked me if I would like to come stay for a while.”
“That’s very true” her mother calmly ventured. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you spend your time here ignoring your real problem.”
“And just what is my real problem?”
“I have no idea. That’s for you to work out on your own.”
“Thank you mother; thank you very much” Kit replied glumly. “You’re an enormous help.”
“Just remember, “Idle hands are the devils tool”” Gladys quoted, and received an eye-roll for her trouble. “All I ask is that you don’t spend your time here moping around the house. Goodness knows you did enough of that when you were younger.”
Kit harrumphed back at her. What did her mother know about it? She was someone who’d spent their entire life blithely unaware of everything around them, not worrying or caring what people thought about them. She had no idea the torture that Kit’s formative years had been; or the fact that she had added to the misery by being the strangest mother the PTA had ever witnessed.
“I don’t intend to “mope around the house” mother; in fact, I was thinking of going for a walk around town right now” she stated brusquely.
“Good” Gladys replied with a smile. “I’m on my way to work as it is, so I’ll drop you off down there.”
“You work?” Kit said in surprise.
“Of course I do. “Money doesn’t grow on trees”.”
CHAPTER 5 - You can’t judge a book by its cover
Gladys stopped the car in front of the line of boutique shops Kit had seen earlier. They’d spent the trip down from her mother's hillside home calmly discussing the weather, the cost of gas and the fact that Kim Kardashian just couldn’t seem to get her life in order. Kit sighed over the banality of their conversation. She and her mother just couldn’t seem to connect on any deep level. And here she’d thought that coming home was a chance to work on their relationship. Maybe she should leave right now?
Kit decided to once again –go against her gut. She’d nicknamed it GAG for short, or for want of a more technical term. No, she wouldn’t leave, even if her gut was telling her to get the hell out. She’d fight the urge; do the opposite. For heaven’s sake, she’d only been in Brandon Bay four hours and she was already giving up?
Getting out of her mother’s old Honda Civic, Kit noticed her veering off towards one of the shop doors. “You work in there?” she asked with a raised brow.
“Yes I do. Why?”
Kit looked at Betty Boop in the window, and thought about asking her mother just what purpose a life-size figurine of an overly endowed cartoon character held. She shook her head and thought better of it. Some things were best not asked. “Oh nothing” she replied nonchalantly.
“I’m off at four, so I’ll see you later. If you want to go home, just take the car and come back and pick me up then” Gladys spoke, throwing her keys to Kit.
“Okay” Kit replied, looking across the street. “I think I’ll go over to the diner and have a cup of coffee.” And look at the “want” ads, she could have thrown in, but didn’t.
Crossing the street and entering Fred’s diner, Kit felt as though she’d stepped through a time portal into the past. The memories flooded back; sitting at the counter having a coke; flinging French fries at Barnaby and his geeky cohorts; giggling with her girlfriends in the corner booth over Jeremy Atwell and other members of the football team. Yeah, she’d had some good times at this diner. Why was it she focused so much on all the bad ones?
Getting herself a seat at the counter, Kit picked up an abandoned newspaper, ordered a coffee and got to work looking through the jobs section. Pen in hand, she’d circled three or four possible positions by the time her coffee was placed in front of her.
“My, but you look busy.” A voice from the side commented.
Kit glanced to her left and tried not to look uncomfortable. The young woman who sat next to her had pink, cotton candy coloured hair, that shot out from the top of her head in a mohawk. She also wore a fifties-style dress the exact same shade of pink. “Yes I am busy. Really busy.” Kit replied, hoping that it sent the appropriate message.
“Looking for a job?” she asked peering over Kit’s shoulder at the newspaper in her hands.
“Yes. Do you mind?” Kit said gruffly, pulling the newspaper away from her gaze. She wasn’t in the habit of talking to strangers, and this woman was stranger than anyone she’d seen in a very long time.
“Sorry.” The woman looked quite rebuffed and went back to her own coffee.
Kit uneasily shot her a look. Why was she being so prickly with someone who was just trying to be friendly? Had George Costanza taught her nothing? “No, I’m sorry” she said turning to the woman on her left. “It’s been a rough week, but there’s no need to take it out on you.”
“That’s okay” her pink-haired neighbour softly said. “I can relate. That’s why I closed my shop up early and came for a pick me up. I’ll let you in on a secret. If you ask Fred nicely, he’ll slip a little Sambuca in your coffee.” She winked and Kit couldn’t help but grin.
“Good to know.” Kit said ra
ising her brows in understanding. “You own one of the shops around here?” The notion that she may be conversing with the purveyor of Betty Boop memorabilia and her mother’s employer crossed Kit’s mind.
“Yeah. I own Jewellery by Jasmine.” she replied, wiping out Kit’s idea in the process. “If you haven’t already worked it out, I’m Jasmine. Jasmine Peabody.”
“Kit. Kit Davidson.”
“Oooh, are you Gladys’s daughter?” she asked clapping her hands together like child.
Kit thought seriously about denying it after witnessing her reaction, but thought what the hell, why refute it. If she was staying in town any length of time, the truth would inevitably come out. “Yes, I am” she answered pleasantly.
“I love your Mom.” Jasmine confessed. “She’s so cool.”
“Really?” Kit replied, wondering if Jasmine suffered from delusions. Could too much pink dye possibly affect the grey matter?
“Yeah I do.” Jasmine cleared her throat. “I was kinda going through some boyfriend stuff a couple of years ago, and your Mom helped me out.”
“That was nice of her.” Kit uttered quietly.
“She talks about you all the time.”
Kit was visibly stunned. “She does?”
“Yeah” Shifting subjects, Jasmine peeked at the newspaper again. “So anything worth applying for?”
“A few. Like everyone says, especially my former employer, times are tough.” Two kind, chocolaty velvet eyes came into Kit’s mind for a moment then faded.
“What do you do?” Jasmine asked wide-eyed.
“Well, I was working for a magazine publisher.”
Jasmine looked excited. “Are you a writer?”
“No. I was a fact checker.” When Jasmine looked at her with confusion, Kit elaborated. “Basically, they gave me all the stories they wanted to run, and I’d double-check all the details in them for mistakes in the information.”
“Do you go to school to learn something like that?”
Kit laughed. “No.”
Noticing that Kit was not offering up any more information voluntarily, Jasmine shrugged and changed subjects once again. “You know, you’d look great with blonde highlights. I could do them for you if you want.”
“No thanks.” Kit smiled.
“Just saying. You’d be a knockout with a little help. Let me know if you change your mind, okay?”
She really should have been offended by Jasmine implying she desperately needed a makeover, but Kit decided her honesty was refreshing. Jasmine said exactly what came into her head, damn the consequences. And she was so childlike, she almost made Kit feel like behaving that way too.
Oh hell, why not. “Okay.” Kit said suddenly.
“Okay what?” Jasmine responded, having already forgotten what they were talking about.
“Let’s go blonde.”
“Really?” Jasmine clapped her hands again.
“Let’s do it before I change my mind.” she shot back, already rising from her seat. “But just highlights Jasmine, okay. I don’t want to go all …,” Kit pointed her finger in the general direction of Jasmine’s head.
“Pink?” Jasmine smiled. “Don’t worry Kit; I know what I’m doing.”
That makes one of us, Kit thought as she followed Jasmine out of the diner. GAG!
CHAPTER 6 – Let bygones be bygones
Jasmine spun the chair around to face the mirror with the words “Wa-la”.
The woman staring back at Kit had long honey blonde tendrils that showed no inkling of their mousy past. Was that really her? Her blue eyes seemed much bluer and pronounced with the help of a little black eyelash tint and muted brown eye shadow. “You like it, right?” Jasmine asked with a worried face.
Kit got up, turned to Jasmine, and hugged her tightly. “I take it that’s a yesiroo.” Jasmine whooped.
“A big yesiroo!” Kit said tearfully, swiping at her eyes. She hadn’t realised how much a new hairdo could make her feel, at least a little bit, more confident and optimistic about life. Hopefully blondes truly did have more fun, or at any rate, more luck.
“Now we need the perfect dress and place to show you off.” Jasmine replied, scurrying towards her closet.
Kit watched as clothes flew left and right out of Jasmine’s busy hands. She smiled at her new-found friend. They had nothing in common, but Kit had enjoyed her company so much this afternoon that she had promised to come down to her shop tomorrow to chat while Jasmine made her jewellery.
“How about this one?” Jasmine said, holding up a canary yellow concoction that hurt the eyes. Kit screwed up her face and shook her head. “No, huh?” Jasmine replied with a disappointed dip of the head. “I agree, it is a little Big Birdish”
“Not quite me, I’m afraid.” Kit said with a frown.
“That’s rather the point, isn’t it?” Jasmine grinned. “From what you’ve told me, being Kit Davidson hasn’t been all that fun lately. So why not break free and be someone else for a change?”
Kit looked at Jasmine and contemplated what she’d said. “You very wise for someone so … pink”
“I’m not wise, I’m just me” she replied easily. “I learned a long time ago, you can’t please everyone, so why try. Be yourself and eventually you’ll find your place in the world.”
“Like I said, wise” Kit remarked. “But how do you be yourself, when you don’t know who you are?”
“Easy. Do what makes you happy. Be with people who make you happy, the rest will come along pretty easily.” Jasmine pulled out a baby blue shift dress and held it up against Kit. “Perfect!”
Kit touched the soft fabric of the dress. “You think?” she asked hopefully.
“I don’t think, I know” Jasmine replied with conviction. Digging deeper into the far reaches of her closet, Kit heard her utter in a muffled tone, “If you can squeeze into a size 7, I have shoes to match in here somewhere!”
******
Jasmine decided that the perfect place to show off the “new” Kit was karaoke night at Gillman’s pub. When Kit hesitated, Jasmine assured her that she’d have a good time, because “After all, you’ll be with me.”
So after returning Gladys’ car keys to her at the Betty Boop shop and ignoring the surprised look she’d given her due to the makeover, Kit jumped into Jasmine’s old, beat up Mustang and sped down the highway like Thelma and Louise towards a night of boys, beer and she highly suspected, some severely off-key singing.
Gillman’s was practically full when they walked through the door, so they took a seat at the bar and watched for a table to become vacant. The karaoke was in full swing and Kit was flabbergasted at the array of non-talent on display for the patrons. Jasmine clapped wildly as a regular named “Trucker Joe” took the stage and did his very best interpretation of Michael Jackson’s “Bad”, crotch thrusts and all. “Bad” didn’t even begin to describe it, and Kit was stunned that all of these people got up there and embarrassed themselves in such a public way. Of course, alcohol played a huge part in contributing to their exhibitionism, but drunk or not, Kit knew she was way too concerned about appearances to do something so crazy.
“You’ve got to try one of these.” Jasmine said, pushing a drink her way. “It’s a black Russian. Pete the bartender once asked me if I’d ever had a black Russian, and when I said no, he gave me one of these. I thought he was talking about men!” she said taking a sip. “Still haven’t had a black Russian, if you know what I mean. But I can’t get enough of these” she added pointing to her glass.
Kit laughed and took a sip, then put it aside. Pretty powerful stuff. Guess she was designated driver this evening. “A table’s available over there” she said, touching Jasmine’s arm and pointing to the far corner.
As they made their way over to the vacant table, Kit could feel the eyes of some of the men follow her across the room. Automatically she looked down. Nope, no toilet paper on shoe. She then smoothed her skirt. Nope, not hitched up and showing her underwear at the back.
She nervously ran her hands through her hair. Was she wrong in thinking that her hair looked good? Did Jasmine leave a pink stripe down the back of her head or something?
“Stop worrying” Jasmine whispered as they sat down. “They’re looking at you ‘cause you look great” she commented knowingly.
“That’s what you think” she replied with an insecure frown.
“Anyway, even if they thought you a complete woof-woof; who cares? Which is totally not possible; because you look totally hot” Jasmine stated convincingly.
Back to Square One (Brandon Bay Babes) Page 3
