Post by wk88 on Nov 27, 2008 16:04:39 GMT -5
A/N 1: Everything up through Dino Thunder is canon. After that, it’s all mine. Hopefully it doesn’t disappoint.
A/N 2: This is going to be a short story, likely no more than 3 or 4 chapters; just something to tide you over while I work on a few “bigger” projects.
“The idea of death, the fear of it, haunts the human animal like nothing else; it is a mainspring of human activity - designed largely to avoid the fatality of death, to overcome it by denying in some way that it is the final destiny of man.” – Ernest Becker
“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next; delicious ambiguity.” – Gilda Radner
“I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge – myth is more potent than history – dreams are more powerful than facts – hope always triumphs over experience – laughter is the cure for grief – and love is stronger than death.” – Robert Fulghum
The Circle of Life
Chapter 1/3
Original Posting Date: June 29, 2008
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Not once in her life could Kimberly Hart recall another time where she had seen her former leader-slash-teammate, ex-boyfriend, and current best friend cry so very hard. The chocolate brown eyes of Tommy Oliver were bloodshot, stained red, and filled with tears that streamed down his face only to be replaced by more as he listened to the priest standing over the shiny oak casket speak. They both had seen their fare share of death during their time as Power Rangers, Tommy more so than anyone else who had even been a Ranger, but never before had it hit so close to home for them.
Heavy rain beat down against the black umbrella held by the tiny, salt-and-pepper haired woman standing closely to Tommy. For everything that Tommy had been through, Kimberly was surprised to see that it was his mother was playing the strong supportive role instead of him. Biting back tears of her own, Janet Oliver held her son’s hand tightly, still trying to make sense of the series of events that had claimed her beloved husband’s life.
At sixty-two years of age Thomas Oliver had been in the absolute best of shape; he never smoked, rarely drank, and exercised on a daily basis. So when a routine checkup two years ago revealed that he had lung cancer, those who knew him the best were more than just caught off guard, they were downright blown away. Luckily, his doctor caught it early enough and had been able to operate. The cancer went into remission and Thomas was able to live a fairly normal life until a month prior when he started to feel sick again.
Having been a military man for the majority of his adult life, serving in two wars and a multitude of combat missions, Thomas refused to visit the doctor for what he believed to be a common cold, even when his wife and son had constantly urged him to do so. By the time they finally had convinced him to see his doctor, it was far too late. The cancer had spread throughout his body and was now inoperable. After being told that he had less than a week to live, Thomas made it six days into his second week before finally succumbing to the cancer.
Two weeks later, Tommy still couldn’t believe that his father was really gone. Never again would they be able to play golf together or watch football games on Sundays over a bowl of his mother’s famous hot wings. For as long as he could remember, he and his father had been closer than close. In fact, until the Oliver family had moved to Angel Grove, his dad had been his closest and best friend.
Tommy could distinctly recall many evenings from his childhood when his dad didn’t get home from work until seven, eight, sometimes nine o’clock; Thomas never complained or said no when Tommy asked him to play catch in the street or for help with his homework. He went to every Little League game, karate tournament, and school function possible; if he couldn’t make it to one of Tommy’s events he made sure that Janet taped it so he and his son could watch it together later.
They’d sit on the big couch in their living room, often for hours on end as they feasted on pizza and watched footage of Tommy in action. Whether it was karate, baseball, or the third grade spelling bee, Thomas had been both his biggest supporter and his biggest critic; praise was given when Tommy did something right but, if he had failed, his father would never hesitate to tell him what he needed to do to not make the same mistakes a second time. Both were constant perfectionists, a trait that Tommy inherited from his father who had become that way in the military when he was forced to witness quite a few good friends make silly mistakes in battle that ended up costing them their lives.
So many emotions tore deep at Tommy’s heart and soul. There was anger and denial, pain and fear, sadness and rage. They ripped into him with relentless fury, making it impossible for Tommy to remain calm for more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time. His ability to maintain a cool demeanor when things got rough was something that Tommy had prided himself on for many years. It had helped him immensely during his six-year and four-color stint as a Power Ranger. Now, though, any sense of composure he might have been able to maintain had been shattered completely, and it was all because of the petite brunette with doe brown eyes standing on the other side of the casket that held his father’s lifeless body.
Tommy’s pride had made him try so hard not to cry in front of her that his emotions had simply bubbled up inside of him until he couldn’t deal with it any longer. That was thirty minutes after the phone call from his mom telling him that his father had passed away. Making the drive from Reefside, where he lived, to Kimberly’s Los Angeles apartment in record time, Tommy broke down over a steaming cup of tea in her living room shortly thereafter.
Their friendship with each other had been renewed five years ago, at the wedding of friends and former teammates, Adam Park and Tanya Sloan. It had only taken the shortest of conversations between Tommy and Kimberly before they both admitted that they really missed each other. Neither was looking for a relationship but, having just moved to new cities around the same time, a good friend had been something that they both needed.
Over that five year period, the pair had become even closer than they were when they had dated back in high school. When Tommy had informed Kimberly of his father’s passing she insisted on accompanying him back to their hometown of Angel Grove. At the time, Tommy hadn’t the strength to try and argue with her; looking back on that day, Tommy was glad that he didn’t fight her on it.
Sleeping had been a terrible struggle for three days straight upon their return to Angel Grove until Kimberly had gotten up for a drink of water in the middle of the night and heard Tommy laying in his old bed, his room still unchanged from the day he moved out, crying softly. Taking a huge risk, Kimberly quietly tiptoed into his room and crawled in bed with him, wiping his tears away, holding him closely until he finally drifted off.
The line of friendship was never once crossed that night, but then on the next night Tommy found that he was unable to sleep without Kimberly there with him. For the last week and a half they had slept in the same bed together, both secretly wondering if, unbeknownst to them, their relationship was starting to develop from a very close friendship into something more, something bigger than either of them was expecting.
It was a thought that was as equally frightening as it was exciting, but Kimberly was not willing to test the waters when Tommy was in such a vulnerable state. The last thing that Tommy needed right now was an emotional commitment, just another person for him to worry about; he needed a friend, someone that would support him and be there for him, not another responsibility. And God only knew that Tommy would have to be hard pressed before he was willing to make the first move. If anything was going to happen between them it wasn’t going to be today or during the rest of their stay in Angel Grove, or any time in the near future, for that matter.
Kimberly would be lying to herself if she said that she was no longer attracted to Tommy. Deep down, she knew that she would never get over her attraction to him, but Tommy had always meant more to her than just something to look at or have her way with. She appreciated his quick wit, his kind heart, his gentle spirit, and his willingness to help others just as much as she adored his flawless physique. If not for his current state of mind, she wouldn’t have thought twice about giving a relationship with Tommy another shot, but the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him when he was already so fragile.
As the priest recited the Lord’s Prayer, Tommy squeezed his mother’s hand tightly, his eyes focused solely on his father’s casket. Try as he might, Tommy still didn’t believe that his dad, his own real life Superman, was actually gone. For a brief moment, Tommy captured Kimberly’s eyes and forced himself to smile for her. Beneath an umbrella held by mutual best friend, Jason Scott, Kimberly returned the gesture, leaving Tommy with the slightest sense of reassurance.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough for him to know that everything was going to be okay; not tomorrow, not the day after that, and probably not for months down the road, but one day…one day his life would have some sense of normalcy again. In his heart, Tommy knew that he would never really get over the loss of his father. The world had lost a great man, a man that Tommy would never forget; he’d just have to learn to live without him.
“In nomine Patris, et Filli, et Spiritus Sancti,” said the Irish-Catholic priest in Latin as he signed himself with the cross. “Amen.”
“Amen,” was the mumbled reply of the fifty or so patrons who had thought so much of Thomas Oliver that they had braved a horrible, relentless, December storm to pay their respects to him and his family.
In the back of his head Tommy could hear the priest thanking everyone who had come on behalf of the Oliver family, offering the group an invitation to a gathering at the Oliver home later but, while he spoke, Tommy’s attention had shifted and was now directed towards Kimberly. Clutched in her hands was a bouquet of flowers; with the white, pink, and red roses, the green stems, and the black ribbon tied around them, each of their Ranger colors would be accompanying Thomas when his casket was finally lowered into the earth.
The idea to use all five of their colors had been Kimberly’s. “That way, the Rangers we were and the people we are now will always be there to look over him,” she had explained to Tommy two days earlier.
Tommy had to admit that it was a pretty fitting parting gesture to his father. Not long after the doctor’s had told Thomas he was going to die he had asked Tommy to come clean about his odd behavior in high school. With tears in his eyes, Tommy sat at his father’s bedside and told him everything from his beginnings as the evil Green Ranger up to his most recent tenure as the Black Dino Ranger in Reefside. Tommy had been fearful that his dad would be upset with him for keeping his history as a Power Ranger a secret.
“Tommy, I couldn’t be prouder of you if I tried. I’m a retired Marine colonel, not one of those sissy dads that whine when their kid doesn’t get enough playing time in T-ball ’cause he can’t hit the ball of the damn tee.”
Even with death knocking on the front door, waiting for him to answer its call, Thomas had still found a way to maintain his sense of humor. His unwillingness to quit was a testament to the strength of the man that Tommy had once thought would live forever. Mustering up some of the last of his remaining strength, Thomas had forced himself to sit up in bed; he spoke sternly, staring Tommy right in the eyes as he delivered his final lecture to his son.
“If you take anything from me son, you better take this. There are three types of people in this world: the people who see wrong and don’t do anything, the people who see wrong and tell someone else, and the people who see wrong and do everything in their power to stop it. Don’t you ever think for one second that I’d be mad at you for being one of the few people left on this planet that don’t fall into the first two categories.”
Long after everyone else, including his mother who stayed to grieve for nearly an hour, had either gone home or to the Oliver house, Tommy remained at the cemetery. The service had ended over two hours ago, but Tommy had not budged since telling his mom that he’d meet her back at the house later. His umbrella long since lost thanks to the wind, Tommy ignored the rain beating against him, standing motionless as he read his father’s headstone for what had to be the hundredth time.
Though he had read the inscription over and over again, Tommy still smiled at the terms his father had used to describe his wife and son. For as long as Tommy could remember, his dad had always referred to Janet as his “Princess,” but being called a warrior by a man who had served in the Vietnam and Persian Gulf Wars was…indescribable. It warmed Tommy’s heart, but at the same time made it ache just as much; Tommy doubted if he’d ever be able to be even half the man that his father was.
His tears used up almost an hour ago, Tommy sniffled as the rain methodically started to slow down. Brushing his soaked hair away from his eyes, he began reading the headstone again but stopped, shaking his head after reading his father’s name.
“I don’t want you to be gone, dad, and I still can’t believe that you really are. Sometimes when I go to bed at night, I pray that I’ll wake up the next morning and realize that it’s just a dream. There are so many things I still wanted to do with you that I can’t now,” whispered Tommy, his head bowed. “We’re never going to get to play Pebble Beach together, or see the Sox play the Yankees at Fenway like we always talked about doing. God, I wanted to be there with you when A-Rod came up to bat and you yelled at him, telling him what a bum he is.”
“Remember how you used to tell me that everyone in Boston was Catholic so God had to be a Red Sox fan? I bet it won’t be long before you guys are watching games and playing golf together,” Tommy continued, chuckling at the thoughts and memories of his father. “I’m gonna miss you, Colonel,” he added, playfully saluting his dad, something he had been doing since he was a child. Taking a deep breath, Tommy slowly turned to his left and smiled softly. “Thanks for staying. We can go home, now.”
Long auburn tresses matted against her head by the rain, Kimberly nodded her head and reached for Tommy’s hand. As they walked hand-in-hand toward a silver BMW, the only car in the whole cemetery, Kimberly wrapped both arms around one of Tommy’s, resting her head against his shoulder. “We’re going to get through this, Tommy,” Kimberly whispered, her voice barely audible. “I promise.”
“We?” asked Tommy, grinning slightly.
“Yes, we,” answered Kimberly, “you and I, together.”
Opening the driver’s side door for Kimberly, Tommy shook his head as she murmured her thanks and climbed into the seat. “Whatever you say, Beautiful,” he murmured, pushing the door shut, “Whatever you say.”
Walking around the car, he started to open his own door, but something made him pause. Touching the inside breast pocket of his soaked, black suit jacket, Tommy remembered that there was one last thing he needed to say to his father that he had forgotten about. The rain was all but a sprinkle now as Tommy ran back to his father’s plot without saying a word to Kimberly.
But when he came face to face with his father’s headstone once more, Tommy realized that there was no way for him to leave that which rested in his jacket pocket. The item had been intended to be inside Thomas’s casket, but the flurry of emotions surrounding his death and funeral had apparently triggered one of Tommy’s infamous lapses in memory. He looked so very disappointed as he stared at the flat slab of stone.
“I don’t keep shovels in my car, but I found a couple of screwdrivers in the trunk,” said Kimberly, walking towards Tommy. Standing next to him, she offered Tommy one of the tools, to his confusion. “We’ll just dig a small hole next to the headstone and put it there.”
“Thanks,” said Tommy hoarsely, taking the screwdriver from Kimberly. “You, uh, you don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I know I don’t have to, I want to,” Kimberly replied, smiling as she went to her knees in the soft, wet grass. “Get down here and help me. I’m not doing this by myself.”
What it was, Tommy didn’t know, but something about Kimberly always seemed to help brighten him up. Chuckling lightly he joined her on the ground, digging his screwdriver into the earth as she did the same. Without the use of a shovel it took quite some time, but eventually Tommy and Kimberly had created a rough looking hole that was around ten inches deep and six inches wide.
“Well, I guess that’s gonna have to do, huh?” asked Tommy.
“I guess so,” answered Kimberly. Resting on her haunches, she wiped the mix of rain water and perspiration from her brow. “Come on, Tommy. Let’s do this and get home. Your mom is probably worried sick about you.”
Nodding his head, Tommy slowly reached into his jacket pocket and extracted a small, black rock. Gently kissing his dormant Dino Gem that had once been capable of immense displays of power, he placed it carefully inside the hole. With Kimberly’s help, in a matter of minutes the hole was covered once more. Standing up, Tommy helped Kimberly onto her feet; mere inches apart, his eyes settled on the headstone for the final time that day.
“Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day, Dad. If I don’t get to see you,” Tommy sighed, pausing as he ran his hand through his hair, “Merry Christmas.”
Driving back to the Oliver house was a quiet, somber experience to say the least. Remembering that the next day was going to be his first Christmas without his father had brought on a fresh round of tears as Kimberly maneuvered her car down the wet roads of Angel Grove, keeping a supportive hand on Tommy’s leg the whole time. If nothing else, he was grateful that she was there with him. Kimberly had been by his side when he needed her the most and for that, Tommy would always be appreciative. When they pulled into the driveway next to Janet Oliver’s blue SUV, the fifty-nine year old woman was standing on the front porch with her hands on her hips and an unimpressed look on her face.
Almost instantly, Tommy was taken back to a mild spring day from his childhood; March 9, 1991 to be exact. His dad, who was a Marine captain at the time, had been gone since September of 1990, fighting in the deserts of Kuwait during the Persian Gulf War. On that March day, Tommy’s mother had been standing in that same position when Thomas Oliver arrived at their West Texas home with no announcement that he was returning.
Much like that day, Janet ran from the porch to the car only, instead of throwing her arms around her husband it was Tommy that she enveloped, hugging him around the waist with all her might. In the company of only Tommy and Kimberly now, she was free to cry the tears that she had forced herself to hide from the rest of her family and friends at the funeral. Holding his mother as she cried against his chest, Tommy decided that the time had now come for him to play the role of the strong one.
So far, the only time that he had seen his mother cry after his father’s passing wasn’t until a couple of hours ago, once everyone else had dispersed from the cemetery. Seeing his mom so sad and distraught broke Tommy’s heart, leaving him in a struggle to keep his own emotions in check for her sake. In the same way that he needed Kimberly for support, his mother needed him just as much. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how hard it would be for a person to lose someone they had spent and shared nearly every moment of their life with for well over forty years.
“Why, Tommy? Why did he have to leave us?” Janet sobbed, gripping at her son’s sopping wet suit jacket. An only child with both parents no longer living, Janet sought comfort in the arms of the last remaining member of her immediate family, ignoring the wetness of Tommy’s clothes seeping through to her own. “It’s not fair! He wasn’t supposed to go! H-h-he promised me that he’d never leave me alone.”
Biting his bottom lip, Tommy gently rubbed his mom’s back as Kimberly came from behind the car to lay a comforting hand on Janet’s shoulder. Giving her a grateful smile, Tommy mouthed his thanks. “He didn’t leave you alone, mom. You still have me and you always will. I’m not going anywhere.”
Sniffling loudly, Janet nodded her head. “Come on, son. Let’s get you and Kimberly inside and out of those wet clothes before you both catch cold. Getting sick won’t do a lick of good for either one of you.”
“Mrs. Oliver, please, don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine,” said Kimberly softly, Tommy nodding his agreement. “You have a whole house full of people to worry about. If anything, we should be the ones helping you.”
“Oh, hush, dear. You have always been like a daughter to me,” Janet replied, touching the side of Kimberly’s face with her palm. “Besides, Tommy’s told me what a help you’ve been to him. Getting you a hot shower and some dry clothes is the least I can do.”
Meeting eyes, Tommy and Kimberly both blushed; Tommy because his conversations with his mom about Kimberly had been exposed, and Kimberly because of the fact that Janet considered her family. The former Pink Ranger still found it hard to believe that Janet could even stand to be in the same room with her after the way she had broken Tommy’s heart in high school. So many years had passed since then, but Kimberly knew that mothers rarely forgot the wrongs that had been done to their children.
As they made their way into the house, the chattering of people ceased at the sight of Tommy and Kimberly. They weren’t given much to look at though; hurriedly, Janet pushed the pair towards the stairs. A concerned Jason emerged from the crowd, squeezing his way in between a sea of bodies as he tried to follow Tommy and Kimberly but, upon reaching the stairs, Janet put a hand to his chest, stopping him.
“Not now, Jason. Give them a little time to regroup and get themselves back together,” she spoke, her voice a near whisper.
It was all that needed to be said. Regardless of how much he wanted to go after his friends, Jason knew better than to argue with his elders. Nodding his understanding, he drifted back to the living room couch as Janet turned to follow Tommy and Kimberly upstairs. Seeing that the bathroom light was on and that the door was closed, Janet assumed that Tommy had given Kimberly the courtesy of taking the first shower.
Searching the linen cabinet for a towel to give to Kimberly, Janet heard a door open but did not stir. “Tommy, where in the world are all of the towels? I thought you said you were going to do that load of wash for me last night,” she sighed. Shutting the cabinet door she looked towards Tommy, an embarrassed smile crossing her face when she saw that it was Kimberly standing in the hallway instead of her son. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I thought you were Tommy. He didn’t give you the first shower?”
“He offered it, but I made him go first,” said Kimberly. “He needs it more than I do, right now.”
Janet nodded her agreement, albeit half-heartedly. “He’s never had to go through anything like this before. This whole experience has been so hard on him.”
“Just on him?” asked Kimberly, moving to stand at Janet’s side. Though Janet gave no verbal reply, Kimberly could see the answer written on the woman’s face. The loss of her husband was tearing her up inside, but for some reason she refused to admit it. “It’s okay to be sad, Mrs. Oliver, and it’s okay for people to know that you’re sad. No one expects you to just pick up and act like everything is normal again. My dad will have been gone seven years in February and not a day goes by that I don’t miss him with everything I have. I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you ever need someone to talk to.”
“Thank you, Kim. I appreciate that very much,” Janet replied, hugging the petite woman warmly.
From her current position, Kimberly could see the bathroom door over Mrs. Oliver’s shoulder. She blushed vehemently when the door opened and Tommy walked out, dripping wet with nothing but a white bath towel wrapped loosely around his waist. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
“Thomas, why are their no towels in the cabinet? Did you remember to do that load of wash I asked you to do?” asked Janet, ignoring the current state of her son and the fact that Kimberly couldn’t bring herself to take her eyes off of him.
“Aww, man, I completely forgot,” Tommy answered, lowering his eyes as Janet rolled her own. Knowing exactly how long it would take before his mother went into lecture-mode, Tommy waited until right when she had opened her mouth before speaking over the top of her. “Ye have little faith, Mother. The towels are in the dryer. I just didn’t have time to fold them before the fune—before we had to leave,” he continued. Trying to cover his little slip up, he quickly shifted his attention from his mom to Kimberly. “I wasn’t in there for very long. You should still have plenty of hot water.”
“Thanks,” Kimberly croaked, watching Tommy walk away until he disappeared behind the closed door of his bedroom. From behind her, Janet let out an amused chuckle, causing a newfound heat to creep up Kimberly’s neck as she slowly turned around to face Tommy’s mother. “What?”
Janet smiled at the younger woman’s flustered expression. “Kimberly, I have known you since you were fifteen years old. The way you just looked at Tommy was the same way you used to look at him when you were kids, and the same way I used to look at his father when we were kids. I know how Tommy feels about you; if you have feelings for him, don’t keep them bottled up inside.”
“Mrs. Oliver, please don’t take this the wrong way, but his dad just passed away. I really don’t think that now is the right time for us to pursue anything outside of friendship. Regardless of how I feel which, for the record, I still haven’t figured out yet, he’s vulnerable and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”
After retrieving a clean towel from the dryer, Janet handed it off to Kimberly. “If I know anything in this world, it’s my son. He may be vulnerable, but he’s not helpless. I think he needs and cares about you more than you know,” said Janet, a combination of surprise and confusion written on Kimberly’s face. “I’ll see you downstairs, Kim.”
That being said, Janet turned for the stairs leaving Kimberly by herself, wondering when her life had become so complicated. With no answer in sight, she sighed and headed for the bathroom. The shower had always been her favorite place to think and, if what Janet had said was true, then Kimberly had a lot of thinking that she needed to do.
Having heard the whole conversation between Kimberly and his mother, Tommy sat on his bedroom floor with closed eyes, resting his back and head against the door. Part of him wished that his mom hadn’t said anything but, at the same time, another part was glad that she had. Now that Kimberly knew how he felt about her, it took a tremendous weight off of his shoulders. He just hoped that his feelings weren’t one way.
Sighing deeply, Tommy pushed himself onto his feet and headed for the closet, searching through a combination of clothes both old and new. He chose a crisp pair of stonewashed, dark blue jeans and a long sleeved, white dress shirt with light, barely visible, vertical stripes. Leaving the top three buttons on his shirt undone, Tommy slipped into his brown leather flip-flops and started for the guest bedroom that Kimberly had taken residence in. Standing at the door, he gently rapped his knuckles against the wooden barrier.
“Kim, it’s me,” said Tommy softly. “Are you decent?”
“Umm, hold on just a second!” Kimberly answered. Outside the room, Tommy could hear her shuffling about for a few moments. “Alright, you can come in!”
The sight before him made Tommy laugh out loud. Wearing a pair of form fitting blue jeans, tan flip-flops, and a casual, long sleeved, white blouse—only the top two buttons undone—Kimberly and Tommy were practically twins. Kimberly took one look at their matching attire and burst out laughing, shaking her head.
“Okay, I am so changing,” she continued, going for her closet.
Kimberly pulled out a similar blouse, this one a soft shade of yellow, and proceeded to change right there in front of Tommy. This wasn’t the first time she had done this, and she always wore a bra when she did, but Tommy found himself staring at her, unable to look away even for a moment. It was a far cry from watching TV or looking the other way as he usually did whenever this happened.
The whole time she was changing, Kimberly was well aware that Tommy was looking at her. When she had started to change, her intentions hadn’t been to revert Tommy to a thirteen year-old boy but, like most women, now that she had his attention she wanted to keep it for as long as possible. She took a little extra time to switch blouses, drawing the process out until she was sure that Tommy was going to snap. Only then did she turn around, striking a dramatic pose “So how do I look?”
“Beautiful,” Tommy breathed. It was all that he could manage.
“Just the answer I was hoping to hear,” Kimberly replied, smiling brightly as she crossed the room. Standing in front of Tommy, she reached out and gently touched his elbow. “Are you ready to go downstairs?”
“Yeah, but before we go, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”
“Oh? What’s that?” asked Kimberly meekly, afraid of what that could mean. Knowing how Tommy felt didn’t change things; she still didn’t think that either of them were ready for any big confessions of deep seeded feelings or anything else like that.
Slowly dipping his head, Tommy pressed a tender kiss to her cheek that left Kimberly blushing, flustered, and utterly speechless. “Thank you,” whispered Tommy, wearing a soft smile, “for everything. I’m glad you came; I don’t think I could have made it through this without you. The fact that you’ve been here for me the whole time…it means more to me than words can say.”
“Y-you’re w-welcome,” Kimberly stammered, cursing her sudden inability to form anything that remotely resembled a coherent thought. “It really isn’t a big deal. I’m sure you would do the same thing for me.”
“In a heartbeat,” Tommy nodded, giving her hand a squeeze. “You know, this whole experience has made me realize something. You’ve been there for me through everything with my dad, but we’ve never really talked about yours.”
Caught off guard, Kimberly bit her bottom lip anxiously as she looked towards the carpet. She didn’t much like talking about her father; more often than not, it brought up painful memories that she preferred to keep suppressed instead of dealing with them. “There isn’t a whole lot to say. He died in a car crash on a visit to Florida a few months after the Pan Globals.”
Touching her chin with his forefinger, Tommy pushed gently until Kimberly was forced to look him in the eyes. “Kim, you are just like me. You keep everything bottled up inside. It’s like that song you’re always singing; you don’t want the world to see you ’cause you don’t think that they’d understand,” he spoke softly, dropping his hand as he let out a sigh. “But we do understand, especially me. I’ve known you long enough to know when you don’t want to talk about something so I’m not going to push the issue on this, but if you ever decide that you do want to talk, I’ll always be there for you.”
“Promise?” asked Kimberly, looking up at Tommy with her head cocked to the side.
“On my life,” Tommy replied, pulling her into a hug. Kimberly melted in his arms, resting her head against his chest. She didn’t know what the future held for them, but this…this felt right in ways she couldn’t explain. “Come on, let’s go downstairs. I’ve been smelling my Mom’s meatballs cooking in the Crock-Pot since we pulled into the driveway.”
Chuckling, Kimberly nodded, allowing Tommy to take her hand and lead her out of the bedroom. “I have to admit, I didn’t expect to see you in such good spirits so soon. I’m glad you aren’t so sad anymore.”
“I spent two hours staring at my dad’s headstone, doing an awful lot of thinking. I know that I’m never going to get over the fact that he’s gone, but I also know that if he were here right now, he’d say ‘Straighten up and stiffen that upper lip, little soldier.’ Crying over my dad isn’t going to bring him back no matter how much I want it to. So instead of crying because he’s not here anymore, I’m going to remember the good times we had, the jokes we told, and the experiences we shared. My dad and I had a ton of memories together; it’s time for me to make some new memories with new people…and maybe a few old ones, too.”
Kimberly could only smile as she walked hand-in-hand into the kitchen with Tommy, in search of his mother and Jason. In the back of her mind, Tommy’s last words were playing over and over again.
…new memories with new people…and maybe a few old ones, too.
More than she would ever be willing to admit, Kimberly hoped with every fiber of her being that she was one of the old friends Tommy had been referring to. After that exchange in her bedroom, she couldn’t help but to feel like she was; and, if some time down the road something ended up happening between her and Tommy, she would be ready for it.
Kimberly Ann Hart was done running from her feelings.
A/N 2: This is going to be a short story, likely no more than 3 or 4 chapters; just something to tide you over while I work on a few “bigger” projects.
“The idea of death, the fear of it, haunts the human animal like nothing else; it is a mainspring of human activity - designed largely to avoid the fatality of death, to overcome it by denying in some way that it is the final destiny of man.” – Ernest Becker
“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next; delicious ambiguity.” – Gilda Radner
“I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge – myth is more potent than history – dreams are more powerful than facts – hope always triumphs over experience – laughter is the cure for grief – and love is stronger than death.” – Robert Fulghum
The Circle of Life
Chapter 1/3
Original Posting Date: June 29, 2008
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Not once in her life could Kimberly Hart recall another time where she had seen her former leader-slash-teammate, ex-boyfriend, and current best friend cry so very hard. The chocolate brown eyes of Tommy Oliver were bloodshot, stained red, and filled with tears that streamed down his face only to be replaced by more as he listened to the priest standing over the shiny oak casket speak. They both had seen their fare share of death during their time as Power Rangers, Tommy more so than anyone else who had even been a Ranger, but never before had it hit so close to home for them.
Heavy rain beat down against the black umbrella held by the tiny, salt-and-pepper haired woman standing closely to Tommy. For everything that Tommy had been through, Kimberly was surprised to see that it was his mother was playing the strong supportive role instead of him. Biting back tears of her own, Janet Oliver held her son’s hand tightly, still trying to make sense of the series of events that had claimed her beloved husband’s life.
At sixty-two years of age Thomas Oliver had been in the absolute best of shape; he never smoked, rarely drank, and exercised on a daily basis. So when a routine checkup two years ago revealed that he had lung cancer, those who knew him the best were more than just caught off guard, they were downright blown away. Luckily, his doctor caught it early enough and had been able to operate. The cancer went into remission and Thomas was able to live a fairly normal life until a month prior when he started to feel sick again.
Having been a military man for the majority of his adult life, serving in two wars and a multitude of combat missions, Thomas refused to visit the doctor for what he believed to be a common cold, even when his wife and son had constantly urged him to do so. By the time they finally had convinced him to see his doctor, it was far too late. The cancer had spread throughout his body and was now inoperable. After being told that he had less than a week to live, Thomas made it six days into his second week before finally succumbing to the cancer.
Two weeks later, Tommy still couldn’t believe that his father was really gone. Never again would they be able to play golf together or watch football games on Sundays over a bowl of his mother’s famous hot wings. For as long as he could remember, he and his father had been closer than close. In fact, until the Oliver family had moved to Angel Grove, his dad had been his closest and best friend.
Tommy could distinctly recall many evenings from his childhood when his dad didn’t get home from work until seven, eight, sometimes nine o’clock; Thomas never complained or said no when Tommy asked him to play catch in the street or for help with his homework. He went to every Little League game, karate tournament, and school function possible; if he couldn’t make it to one of Tommy’s events he made sure that Janet taped it so he and his son could watch it together later.
They’d sit on the big couch in their living room, often for hours on end as they feasted on pizza and watched footage of Tommy in action. Whether it was karate, baseball, or the third grade spelling bee, Thomas had been both his biggest supporter and his biggest critic; praise was given when Tommy did something right but, if he had failed, his father would never hesitate to tell him what he needed to do to not make the same mistakes a second time. Both were constant perfectionists, a trait that Tommy inherited from his father who had become that way in the military when he was forced to witness quite a few good friends make silly mistakes in battle that ended up costing them their lives.
So many emotions tore deep at Tommy’s heart and soul. There was anger and denial, pain and fear, sadness and rage. They ripped into him with relentless fury, making it impossible for Tommy to remain calm for more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time. His ability to maintain a cool demeanor when things got rough was something that Tommy had prided himself on for many years. It had helped him immensely during his six-year and four-color stint as a Power Ranger. Now, though, any sense of composure he might have been able to maintain had been shattered completely, and it was all because of the petite brunette with doe brown eyes standing on the other side of the casket that held his father’s lifeless body.
Tommy’s pride had made him try so hard not to cry in front of her that his emotions had simply bubbled up inside of him until he couldn’t deal with it any longer. That was thirty minutes after the phone call from his mom telling him that his father had passed away. Making the drive from Reefside, where he lived, to Kimberly’s Los Angeles apartment in record time, Tommy broke down over a steaming cup of tea in her living room shortly thereafter.
Their friendship with each other had been renewed five years ago, at the wedding of friends and former teammates, Adam Park and Tanya Sloan. It had only taken the shortest of conversations between Tommy and Kimberly before they both admitted that they really missed each other. Neither was looking for a relationship but, having just moved to new cities around the same time, a good friend had been something that they both needed.
Over that five year period, the pair had become even closer than they were when they had dated back in high school. When Tommy had informed Kimberly of his father’s passing she insisted on accompanying him back to their hometown of Angel Grove. At the time, Tommy hadn’t the strength to try and argue with her; looking back on that day, Tommy was glad that he didn’t fight her on it.
Sleeping had been a terrible struggle for three days straight upon their return to Angel Grove until Kimberly had gotten up for a drink of water in the middle of the night and heard Tommy laying in his old bed, his room still unchanged from the day he moved out, crying softly. Taking a huge risk, Kimberly quietly tiptoed into his room and crawled in bed with him, wiping his tears away, holding him closely until he finally drifted off.
The line of friendship was never once crossed that night, but then on the next night Tommy found that he was unable to sleep without Kimberly there with him. For the last week and a half they had slept in the same bed together, both secretly wondering if, unbeknownst to them, their relationship was starting to develop from a very close friendship into something more, something bigger than either of them was expecting.
It was a thought that was as equally frightening as it was exciting, but Kimberly was not willing to test the waters when Tommy was in such a vulnerable state. The last thing that Tommy needed right now was an emotional commitment, just another person for him to worry about; he needed a friend, someone that would support him and be there for him, not another responsibility. And God only knew that Tommy would have to be hard pressed before he was willing to make the first move. If anything was going to happen between them it wasn’t going to be today or during the rest of their stay in Angel Grove, or any time in the near future, for that matter.
Kimberly would be lying to herself if she said that she was no longer attracted to Tommy. Deep down, she knew that she would never get over her attraction to him, but Tommy had always meant more to her than just something to look at or have her way with. She appreciated his quick wit, his kind heart, his gentle spirit, and his willingness to help others just as much as she adored his flawless physique. If not for his current state of mind, she wouldn’t have thought twice about giving a relationship with Tommy another shot, but the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him when he was already so fragile.
As the priest recited the Lord’s Prayer, Tommy squeezed his mother’s hand tightly, his eyes focused solely on his father’s casket. Try as he might, Tommy still didn’t believe that his dad, his own real life Superman, was actually gone. For a brief moment, Tommy captured Kimberly’s eyes and forced himself to smile for her. Beneath an umbrella held by mutual best friend, Jason Scott, Kimberly returned the gesture, leaving Tommy with the slightest sense of reassurance.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough for him to know that everything was going to be okay; not tomorrow, not the day after that, and probably not for months down the road, but one day…one day his life would have some sense of normalcy again. In his heart, Tommy knew that he would never really get over the loss of his father. The world had lost a great man, a man that Tommy would never forget; he’d just have to learn to live without him.
“In nomine Patris, et Filli, et Spiritus Sancti,” said the Irish-Catholic priest in Latin as he signed himself with the cross. “Amen.”
“Amen,” was the mumbled reply of the fifty or so patrons who had thought so much of Thomas Oliver that they had braved a horrible, relentless, December storm to pay their respects to him and his family.
In the back of his head Tommy could hear the priest thanking everyone who had come on behalf of the Oliver family, offering the group an invitation to a gathering at the Oliver home later but, while he spoke, Tommy’s attention had shifted and was now directed towards Kimberly. Clutched in her hands was a bouquet of flowers; with the white, pink, and red roses, the green stems, and the black ribbon tied around them, each of their Ranger colors would be accompanying Thomas when his casket was finally lowered into the earth.
The idea to use all five of their colors had been Kimberly’s. “That way, the Rangers we were and the people we are now will always be there to look over him,” she had explained to Tommy two days earlier.
Tommy had to admit that it was a pretty fitting parting gesture to his father. Not long after the doctor’s had told Thomas he was going to die he had asked Tommy to come clean about his odd behavior in high school. With tears in his eyes, Tommy sat at his father’s bedside and told him everything from his beginnings as the evil Green Ranger up to his most recent tenure as the Black Dino Ranger in Reefside. Tommy had been fearful that his dad would be upset with him for keeping his history as a Power Ranger a secret.
“Tommy, I couldn’t be prouder of you if I tried. I’m a retired Marine colonel, not one of those sissy dads that whine when their kid doesn’t get enough playing time in T-ball ’cause he can’t hit the ball of the damn tee.”
Even with death knocking on the front door, waiting for him to answer its call, Thomas had still found a way to maintain his sense of humor. His unwillingness to quit was a testament to the strength of the man that Tommy had once thought would live forever. Mustering up some of the last of his remaining strength, Thomas had forced himself to sit up in bed; he spoke sternly, staring Tommy right in the eyes as he delivered his final lecture to his son.
“If you take anything from me son, you better take this. There are three types of people in this world: the people who see wrong and don’t do anything, the people who see wrong and tell someone else, and the people who see wrong and do everything in their power to stop it. Don’t you ever think for one second that I’d be mad at you for being one of the few people left on this planet that don’t fall into the first two categories.”
Long after everyone else, including his mother who stayed to grieve for nearly an hour, had either gone home or to the Oliver house, Tommy remained at the cemetery. The service had ended over two hours ago, but Tommy had not budged since telling his mom that he’d meet her back at the house later. His umbrella long since lost thanks to the wind, Tommy ignored the rain beating against him, standing motionless as he read his father’s headstone for what had to be the hundredth time.
Thomas Jonathan Oliver
April 1, 1944 – December 11, 2006
Husband to his Princess, father to a warrior, friend to all.
April 1, 1944 – December 11, 2006
Husband to his Princess, father to a warrior, friend to all.
Though he had read the inscription over and over again, Tommy still smiled at the terms his father had used to describe his wife and son. For as long as Tommy could remember, his dad had always referred to Janet as his “Princess,” but being called a warrior by a man who had served in the Vietnam and Persian Gulf Wars was…indescribable. It warmed Tommy’s heart, but at the same time made it ache just as much; Tommy doubted if he’d ever be able to be even half the man that his father was.
His tears used up almost an hour ago, Tommy sniffled as the rain methodically started to slow down. Brushing his soaked hair away from his eyes, he began reading the headstone again but stopped, shaking his head after reading his father’s name.
“I don’t want you to be gone, dad, and I still can’t believe that you really are. Sometimes when I go to bed at night, I pray that I’ll wake up the next morning and realize that it’s just a dream. There are so many things I still wanted to do with you that I can’t now,” whispered Tommy, his head bowed. “We’re never going to get to play Pebble Beach together, or see the Sox play the Yankees at Fenway like we always talked about doing. God, I wanted to be there with you when A-Rod came up to bat and you yelled at him, telling him what a bum he is.”
“Remember how you used to tell me that everyone in Boston was Catholic so God had to be a Red Sox fan? I bet it won’t be long before you guys are watching games and playing golf together,” Tommy continued, chuckling at the thoughts and memories of his father. “I’m gonna miss you, Colonel,” he added, playfully saluting his dad, something he had been doing since he was a child. Taking a deep breath, Tommy slowly turned to his left and smiled softly. “Thanks for staying. We can go home, now.”
Long auburn tresses matted against her head by the rain, Kimberly nodded her head and reached for Tommy’s hand. As they walked hand-in-hand toward a silver BMW, the only car in the whole cemetery, Kimberly wrapped both arms around one of Tommy’s, resting her head against his shoulder. “We’re going to get through this, Tommy,” Kimberly whispered, her voice barely audible. “I promise.”
“We?” asked Tommy, grinning slightly.
“Yes, we,” answered Kimberly, “you and I, together.”
Opening the driver’s side door for Kimberly, Tommy shook his head as she murmured her thanks and climbed into the seat. “Whatever you say, Beautiful,” he murmured, pushing the door shut, “Whatever you say.”
Walking around the car, he started to open his own door, but something made him pause. Touching the inside breast pocket of his soaked, black suit jacket, Tommy remembered that there was one last thing he needed to say to his father that he had forgotten about. The rain was all but a sprinkle now as Tommy ran back to his father’s plot without saying a word to Kimberly.
But when he came face to face with his father’s headstone once more, Tommy realized that there was no way for him to leave that which rested in his jacket pocket. The item had been intended to be inside Thomas’s casket, but the flurry of emotions surrounding his death and funeral had apparently triggered one of Tommy’s infamous lapses in memory. He looked so very disappointed as he stared at the flat slab of stone.
“I don’t keep shovels in my car, but I found a couple of screwdrivers in the trunk,” said Kimberly, walking towards Tommy. Standing next to him, she offered Tommy one of the tools, to his confusion. “We’ll just dig a small hole next to the headstone and put it there.”
“Thanks,” said Tommy hoarsely, taking the screwdriver from Kimberly. “You, uh, you don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I know I don’t have to, I want to,” Kimberly replied, smiling as she went to her knees in the soft, wet grass. “Get down here and help me. I’m not doing this by myself.”
What it was, Tommy didn’t know, but something about Kimberly always seemed to help brighten him up. Chuckling lightly he joined her on the ground, digging his screwdriver into the earth as she did the same. Without the use of a shovel it took quite some time, but eventually Tommy and Kimberly had created a rough looking hole that was around ten inches deep and six inches wide.
“Well, I guess that’s gonna have to do, huh?” asked Tommy.
“I guess so,” answered Kimberly. Resting on her haunches, she wiped the mix of rain water and perspiration from her brow. “Come on, Tommy. Let’s do this and get home. Your mom is probably worried sick about you.”
Nodding his head, Tommy slowly reached into his jacket pocket and extracted a small, black rock. Gently kissing his dormant Dino Gem that had once been capable of immense displays of power, he placed it carefully inside the hole. With Kimberly’s help, in a matter of minutes the hole was covered once more. Standing up, Tommy helped Kimberly onto her feet; mere inches apart, his eyes settled on the headstone for the final time that day.
“Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day, Dad. If I don’t get to see you,” Tommy sighed, pausing as he ran his hand through his hair, “Merry Christmas.”
Driving back to the Oliver house was a quiet, somber experience to say the least. Remembering that the next day was going to be his first Christmas without his father had brought on a fresh round of tears as Kimberly maneuvered her car down the wet roads of Angel Grove, keeping a supportive hand on Tommy’s leg the whole time. If nothing else, he was grateful that she was there with him. Kimberly had been by his side when he needed her the most and for that, Tommy would always be appreciative. When they pulled into the driveway next to Janet Oliver’s blue SUV, the fifty-nine year old woman was standing on the front porch with her hands on her hips and an unimpressed look on her face.
Almost instantly, Tommy was taken back to a mild spring day from his childhood; March 9, 1991 to be exact. His dad, who was a Marine captain at the time, had been gone since September of 1990, fighting in the deserts of Kuwait during the Persian Gulf War. On that March day, Tommy’s mother had been standing in that same position when Thomas Oliver arrived at their West Texas home with no announcement that he was returning.
Much like that day, Janet ran from the porch to the car only, instead of throwing her arms around her husband it was Tommy that she enveloped, hugging him around the waist with all her might. In the company of only Tommy and Kimberly now, she was free to cry the tears that she had forced herself to hide from the rest of her family and friends at the funeral. Holding his mother as she cried against his chest, Tommy decided that the time had now come for him to play the role of the strong one.
So far, the only time that he had seen his mother cry after his father’s passing wasn’t until a couple of hours ago, once everyone else had dispersed from the cemetery. Seeing his mom so sad and distraught broke Tommy’s heart, leaving him in a struggle to keep his own emotions in check for her sake. In the same way that he needed Kimberly for support, his mother needed him just as much. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how hard it would be for a person to lose someone they had spent and shared nearly every moment of their life with for well over forty years.
“Why, Tommy? Why did he have to leave us?” Janet sobbed, gripping at her son’s sopping wet suit jacket. An only child with both parents no longer living, Janet sought comfort in the arms of the last remaining member of her immediate family, ignoring the wetness of Tommy’s clothes seeping through to her own. “It’s not fair! He wasn’t supposed to go! H-h-he promised me that he’d never leave me alone.”
Biting his bottom lip, Tommy gently rubbed his mom’s back as Kimberly came from behind the car to lay a comforting hand on Janet’s shoulder. Giving her a grateful smile, Tommy mouthed his thanks. “He didn’t leave you alone, mom. You still have me and you always will. I’m not going anywhere.”
Sniffling loudly, Janet nodded her head. “Come on, son. Let’s get you and Kimberly inside and out of those wet clothes before you both catch cold. Getting sick won’t do a lick of good for either one of you.”
“Mrs. Oliver, please, don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine,” said Kimberly softly, Tommy nodding his agreement. “You have a whole house full of people to worry about. If anything, we should be the ones helping you.”
“Oh, hush, dear. You have always been like a daughter to me,” Janet replied, touching the side of Kimberly’s face with her palm. “Besides, Tommy’s told me what a help you’ve been to him. Getting you a hot shower and some dry clothes is the least I can do.”
Meeting eyes, Tommy and Kimberly both blushed; Tommy because his conversations with his mom about Kimberly had been exposed, and Kimberly because of the fact that Janet considered her family. The former Pink Ranger still found it hard to believe that Janet could even stand to be in the same room with her after the way she had broken Tommy’s heart in high school. So many years had passed since then, but Kimberly knew that mothers rarely forgot the wrongs that had been done to their children.
As they made their way into the house, the chattering of people ceased at the sight of Tommy and Kimberly. They weren’t given much to look at though; hurriedly, Janet pushed the pair towards the stairs. A concerned Jason emerged from the crowd, squeezing his way in between a sea of bodies as he tried to follow Tommy and Kimberly but, upon reaching the stairs, Janet put a hand to his chest, stopping him.
“Not now, Jason. Give them a little time to regroup and get themselves back together,” she spoke, her voice a near whisper.
It was all that needed to be said. Regardless of how much he wanted to go after his friends, Jason knew better than to argue with his elders. Nodding his understanding, he drifted back to the living room couch as Janet turned to follow Tommy and Kimberly upstairs. Seeing that the bathroom light was on and that the door was closed, Janet assumed that Tommy had given Kimberly the courtesy of taking the first shower.
Searching the linen cabinet for a towel to give to Kimberly, Janet heard a door open but did not stir. “Tommy, where in the world are all of the towels? I thought you said you were going to do that load of wash for me last night,” she sighed. Shutting the cabinet door she looked towards Tommy, an embarrassed smile crossing her face when she saw that it was Kimberly standing in the hallway instead of her son. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I thought you were Tommy. He didn’t give you the first shower?”
“He offered it, but I made him go first,” said Kimberly. “He needs it more than I do, right now.”
Janet nodded her agreement, albeit half-heartedly. “He’s never had to go through anything like this before. This whole experience has been so hard on him.”
“Just on him?” asked Kimberly, moving to stand at Janet’s side. Though Janet gave no verbal reply, Kimberly could see the answer written on the woman’s face. The loss of her husband was tearing her up inside, but for some reason she refused to admit it. “It’s okay to be sad, Mrs. Oliver, and it’s okay for people to know that you’re sad. No one expects you to just pick up and act like everything is normal again. My dad will have been gone seven years in February and not a day goes by that I don’t miss him with everything I have. I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you ever need someone to talk to.”
“Thank you, Kim. I appreciate that very much,” Janet replied, hugging the petite woman warmly.
From her current position, Kimberly could see the bathroom door over Mrs. Oliver’s shoulder. She blushed vehemently when the door opened and Tommy walked out, dripping wet with nothing but a white bath towel wrapped loosely around his waist. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
“Thomas, why are their no towels in the cabinet? Did you remember to do that load of wash I asked you to do?” asked Janet, ignoring the current state of her son and the fact that Kimberly couldn’t bring herself to take her eyes off of him.
“Aww, man, I completely forgot,” Tommy answered, lowering his eyes as Janet rolled her own. Knowing exactly how long it would take before his mother went into lecture-mode, Tommy waited until right when she had opened her mouth before speaking over the top of her. “Ye have little faith, Mother. The towels are in the dryer. I just didn’t have time to fold them before the fune—before we had to leave,” he continued. Trying to cover his little slip up, he quickly shifted his attention from his mom to Kimberly. “I wasn’t in there for very long. You should still have plenty of hot water.”
“Thanks,” Kimberly croaked, watching Tommy walk away until he disappeared behind the closed door of his bedroom. From behind her, Janet let out an amused chuckle, causing a newfound heat to creep up Kimberly’s neck as she slowly turned around to face Tommy’s mother. “What?”
Janet smiled at the younger woman’s flustered expression. “Kimberly, I have known you since you were fifteen years old. The way you just looked at Tommy was the same way you used to look at him when you were kids, and the same way I used to look at his father when we were kids. I know how Tommy feels about you; if you have feelings for him, don’t keep them bottled up inside.”
“Mrs. Oliver, please don’t take this the wrong way, but his dad just passed away. I really don’t think that now is the right time for us to pursue anything outside of friendship. Regardless of how I feel which, for the record, I still haven’t figured out yet, he’s vulnerable and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”
After retrieving a clean towel from the dryer, Janet handed it off to Kimberly. “If I know anything in this world, it’s my son. He may be vulnerable, but he’s not helpless. I think he needs and cares about you more than you know,” said Janet, a combination of surprise and confusion written on Kimberly’s face. “I’ll see you downstairs, Kim.”
That being said, Janet turned for the stairs leaving Kimberly by herself, wondering when her life had become so complicated. With no answer in sight, she sighed and headed for the bathroom. The shower had always been her favorite place to think and, if what Janet had said was true, then Kimberly had a lot of thinking that she needed to do.
Having heard the whole conversation between Kimberly and his mother, Tommy sat on his bedroom floor with closed eyes, resting his back and head against the door. Part of him wished that his mom hadn’t said anything but, at the same time, another part was glad that she had. Now that Kimberly knew how he felt about her, it took a tremendous weight off of his shoulders. He just hoped that his feelings weren’t one way.
Sighing deeply, Tommy pushed himself onto his feet and headed for the closet, searching through a combination of clothes both old and new. He chose a crisp pair of stonewashed, dark blue jeans and a long sleeved, white dress shirt with light, barely visible, vertical stripes. Leaving the top three buttons on his shirt undone, Tommy slipped into his brown leather flip-flops and started for the guest bedroom that Kimberly had taken residence in. Standing at the door, he gently rapped his knuckles against the wooden barrier.
“Kim, it’s me,” said Tommy softly. “Are you decent?”
“Umm, hold on just a second!” Kimberly answered. Outside the room, Tommy could hear her shuffling about for a few moments. “Alright, you can come in!”
The sight before him made Tommy laugh out loud. Wearing a pair of form fitting blue jeans, tan flip-flops, and a casual, long sleeved, white blouse—only the top two buttons undone—Kimberly and Tommy were practically twins. Kimberly took one look at their matching attire and burst out laughing, shaking her head.
“Okay, I am so changing,” she continued, going for her closet.
Kimberly pulled out a similar blouse, this one a soft shade of yellow, and proceeded to change right there in front of Tommy. This wasn’t the first time she had done this, and she always wore a bra when she did, but Tommy found himself staring at her, unable to look away even for a moment. It was a far cry from watching TV or looking the other way as he usually did whenever this happened.
The whole time she was changing, Kimberly was well aware that Tommy was looking at her. When she had started to change, her intentions hadn’t been to revert Tommy to a thirteen year-old boy but, like most women, now that she had his attention she wanted to keep it for as long as possible. She took a little extra time to switch blouses, drawing the process out until she was sure that Tommy was going to snap. Only then did she turn around, striking a dramatic pose “So how do I look?”
“Beautiful,” Tommy breathed. It was all that he could manage.
“Just the answer I was hoping to hear,” Kimberly replied, smiling brightly as she crossed the room. Standing in front of Tommy, she reached out and gently touched his elbow. “Are you ready to go downstairs?”
“Yeah, but before we go, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”
“Oh? What’s that?” asked Kimberly meekly, afraid of what that could mean. Knowing how Tommy felt didn’t change things; she still didn’t think that either of them were ready for any big confessions of deep seeded feelings or anything else like that.
Slowly dipping his head, Tommy pressed a tender kiss to her cheek that left Kimberly blushing, flustered, and utterly speechless. “Thank you,” whispered Tommy, wearing a soft smile, “for everything. I’m glad you came; I don’t think I could have made it through this without you. The fact that you’ve been here for me the whole time…it means more to me than words can say.”
“Y-you’re w-welcome,” Kimberly stammered, cursing her sudden inability to form anything that remotely resembled a coherent thought. “It really isn’t a big deal. I’m sure you would do the same thing for me.”
“In a heartbeat,” Tommy nodded, giving her hand a squeeze. “You know, this whole experience has made me realize something. You’ve been there for me through everything with my dad, but we’ve never really talked about yours.”
Caught off guard, Kimberly bit her bottom lip anxiously as she looked towards the carpet. She didn’t much like talking about her father; more often than not, it brought up painful memories that she preferred to keep suppressed instead of dealing with them. “There isn’t a whole lot to say. He died in a car crash on a visit to Florida a few months after the Pan Globals.”
Touching her chin with his forefinger, Tommy pushed gently until Kimberly was forced to look him in the eyes. “Kim, you are just like me. You keep everything bottled up inside. It’s like that song you’re always singing; you don’t want the world to see you ’cause you don’t think that they’d understand,” he spoke softly, dropping his hand as he let out a sigh. “But we do understand, especially me. I’ve known you long enough to know when you don’t want to talk about something so I’m not going to push the issue on this, but if you ever decide that you do want to talk, I’ll always be there for you.”
“Promise?” asked Kimberly, looking up at Tommy with her head cocked to the side.
“On my life,” Tommy replied, pulling her into a hug. Kimberly melted in his arms, resting her head against his chest. She didn’t know what the future held for them, but this…this felt right in ways she couldn’t explain. “Come on, let’s go downstairs. I’ve been smelling my Mom’s meatballs cooking in the Crock-Pot since we pulled into the driveway.”
Chuckling, Kimberly nodded, allowing Tommy to take her hand and lead her out of the bedroom. “I have to admit, I didn’t expect to see you in such good spirits so soon. I’m glad you aren’t so sad anymore.”
“I spent two hours staring at my dad’s headstone, doing an awful lot of thinking. I know that I’m never going to get over the fact that he’s gone, but I also know that if he were here right now, he’d say ‘Straighten up and stiffen that upper lip, little soldier.’ Crying over my dad isn’t going to bring him back no matter how much I want it to. So instead of crying because he’s not here anymore, I’m going to remember the good times we had, the jokes we told, and the experiences we shared. My dad and I had a ton of memories together; it’s time for me to make some new memories with new people…and maybe a few old ones, too.”
Kimberly could only smile as she walked hand-in-hand into the kitchen with Tommy, in search of his mother and Jason. In the back of her mind, Tommy’s last words were playing over and over again.
…new memories with new people…and maybe a few old ones, too.
More than she would ever be willing to admit, Kimberly hoped with every fiber of her being that she was one of the old friends Tommy had been referring to. After that exchange in her bedroom, she couldn’t help but to feel like she was; and, if some time down the road something ended up happening between her and Tommy, she would be ready for it.
Kimberly Ann Hart was done running from her feelings.
