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Authors: Caleb Alexander

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BOOK: Just Another Damn Love Story
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“Yeah,” Kimberly shrugged. She raked the onions she had chopped into a Tupperware bowl, and then pulled some seasoning from the cabinet.

“Here, I’ll take that,”  Marjorie told her, removing the pan of cornbread from in front of her daughter.  “I’ll make the dressing.”  She didn’t want anything to distract Kimberly from her barrage of questions.

“Here, I can do it,”  Kimberly told her.  “You finish up the turkey and the candied yams.  I can handle the cornbread dressing.”

“The turkey is fine,”  Marjorie said overly polite.  “There’s really nothing left for you to do.  Sit down and take a load off, darling.”

Kimberly’s suspicions were now confirmed.  Her mother was about to drill into her like Exxon Mobile into a new oil find.  Kimberly nervously edged her bottom onto the bar stool next to the kitchen island, and then peered around for something to do.

“Did your acquaintance fly down to New Orleans with you?”  Marjorie asked.

“With me?”  Kimberly shook her head.  “No.”

“Hmmmph.”  Marjorie began mixing her cornbread.  “Well, is your friend in the fashion industry as well?”

“Yeah.”

Thornton burst into laughter.  He knew what his wife was doing, as well as what his daughter was doing.  He knew that Kimberly’s one word answers were driving his wife crazy.

“Well, what does your friend do?”   Marjorie asked.

Kimberly shrugged.  “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”  Marjorie asked lifting an eyebrow.

“Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?  Must not really be a that much of a friend.  How is Brittany and Mia?”

“They’re fine.”

“Has either of them met your new friend?”

Kimberly smiled.  She knew that if she said yes, that would mean her friend was from New York.  That would also mean that her mother would question the heck out of Brittany and Mia the next time she spoke with them. 

“Yeah, they’ve met my friend.”

“This friend of yours, the one who knows these big name designers, is he your new boyfriend?”  Marjorie asked.  She was tired of beating around the bush.

“You could say that.”

“Oh, you have a new boyfriend?”  Marjorie said, becoming very animated.  “When were you going to tell us about him?”

Kimberly shrugged.

“You hear that, Thornton?”  Marjorie shouted into the family room.  “Your daughter has a new boyfriend.”

“That’s wonderful, dear,”  Thornton shouted back, while not peering up from his newspapers.

“That is
not
wonderful!”  Marjorie declared.  “She wasn’t even going to tell us about him!”

“I was going to tell you about him,”  Kim said.

“When?  Next month?  Next year?  When?”

“When the time was right.”

“When the time was
right
?”  Marjorie recoiled.  She mixed her cornbread, and slammed the dish into her stainless steel Wolf oven.  “Did you even tell him about us, or does he think you’re an orphan?”

Kimberly exhaled and rolled her eyes.

“And you don’t know what this young man does for a living?”  Marjorie asked.

“Yes, he’s an executive in the fashion industry.”

“An executive,”  Marjorie said tartly.  She pursed her lips together.  “In the fashion industry.  And who does this executive work for?”

“He works for Vespasian.”

“Vespasian?”  Marjorie nodded.  “Impressive.  And how long have you been seeing this young man?  Wait, he is a
young
man, isn’t he?”

“Yes, mother,”  Kim said, exhaling forcibly again.  “He and I are about the same age.  And we’ve been seeing one another for a while.”

“Does this young executive have a name?”

“Sterling.  His name is Sterling.”

“Sterling,”  Marjorie said nodding.  “At least his parents gave him a sensible name.  And what is Mr. Sterling’s last name?”

“Williams.”

“Sterling Williams,”  Marjorie said, again pursing her lips.  “And when will we get the pleasure of meeting Mr. Williams?”

Kimberly shrugged.

“Oh, that’s reassuring.  You mean to tell me that you have no plans for how or when you were going to introduce your boyfriend to your parents?”

“I mean, I hadn’t thought about it.”

“I guess we’re not that important to you.”

Kimberly threw her head back in frustration.  If it was one thing she hated more than anything else, it was her mother’s guilt trips.  “You can meet him!”

“No, don’t do us any special favors,”  Marjorie told her.  “We’ll just have to be content with your sister’s fiancée.”

“Fiancee?” 

“Yes, her
fiancée
,”  Marjorie repeated.  “If you would call more often you would know what is going on in your family.”

“I see you every Sunday!”  Kimberly told her.

“Not
every
Sunday.  Nevertheless, I am pleased to announce that your sister, and her long time boyfriend, Dr. Craig Andrew Phelps III, have become engaged.  Another doctor in the family.”

“Whoopee.”

“Whoopee?  Let’s see.  We’ll have your father, your two uncles, your five cousins, your sister, her fiancée.  And then we’ll have you and your fiancée.  Christmas dinner will consist of conversations about breathtaking medical research, and what Paris Hilton was wearing at some awards show.”

Kimberly exhaled, and shook her head.  She was defeated.  Her mother had once again made her feel lower than low.

“I think the Paris Hilton conversation is going to be a lot more interesting!”  Thornton shouted from the family room.

Kimberly smiled.  Her father always made her feel better.

“Oh,
shut up, Thornton
!”  Marjorie shouted.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

“She just has a way of making me feel insignificant,”  Kimberly said sadly.  “She lays this guilt trip on me about not being a doctor, about not marrying a doctor, about not going to grad school.  I just feel like a miserable failure.”

“You’re not a miserable failure, Kim,”  Sterling told her.  “You have a great job, a great life, and a wonderful boyfriend.”

Kimberly laughed.  “Two out of three ain’t bad.”

“What, you don’t have a great job?”  Sterling asked, lifting an eyebrow.

The two of them strolled along the cobble stone street, taking in the sights and sounds of a mild Martha’s Vineyard evening.

Kim smiled, and the smile quickly bled from her face.  “I just don’t know what I can do to please that woman, short of going to medical school.”

“You’re a grown woman, Kimberly,”  Sterling told her.  “You have your own life to live.  Love your mother, honor her, cherish her, but live your own life.”

“I know,”  Kim nodded.  “What you’re saying is true, but still.  I’ve always looked up to her, and looked to her for guidance.  Her opinion matters to me.”

“Your mother’s opinion
should
matter,”  Sterling said.  “But take them for what they're worth.  Don’t let anyone tear you down.”

Kimberly exhaled, stopped, and examined a nearby storefront window.  “She just loved throwing it in my face that my sister was getting married.”

“That’s good news,”  Sterling told her.  “Why would that bother you?”

“It doesn’t bother me,”  Kim said, breathing out forcibly.  “I’m happy for my sister.  It’s just that my mother relished throwing it in my face.”

“Throwing what in your face?”

“The fact that my sister has found someone and I’m still single.”

“You’ve found someone too,”  Sterling said softly.  “You’ve found me.  We’ve found each other.”

Kimberly shook her head and folded her arms.  “Yeah, but the truth be known, to them we don’t even count.”

“We don’t count?”  Sterling recoiled.  “We
always
count.  Who says that they get to decide who counts?  Since when did they get to decide our self esteem?”

“Sterling, in their world, we don’t matter,”  Kimberly explained.  “My mother, and her black doctor crowd.  In their world, you can be the biggest investor on Wall Street, or a partner at the biggest law firm in New York, and you’ll barely register.”

“Kimberly, what does it matter if we don’t fit into their world?”  Sterling asked.  “We’re out to build a world of our own.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Sterling.  This is my mother, and these are the people I grew up around.  I don’t want to be alienated from them.”

Sterling took Kimberly’s hand into his.  “And I don’t want to see you torn down.  You’re an exceptional woman.  Sure, I’ll go with you and meet your parents.  But I won’t sit silent and let anyone insult you or tell you that you aren’t special.  You are a phenomenal woman, Kimberly Neal.”

Tears fell from Kimberly’s eyes.  She lifted Sterling’s strong hands to her lips and kissed them.  He was a healer, like her father.  A man who built people up, instead of tearing them down.  He was a good man, who had just proven that he would be there to lift her up when she was down.

“Come on, this is supposed to be a shopping trip,”  Sterling told her, nodding toward a nearby store.

Sterling and Kim ventured into the store, realizing after entering, that it was an expensive boutique that catered to Martha’s Vinyard’s super rich. After examining only two price tags, Kim spun on her heels toward the door.

“Let’s get out of here!”

“What?”  Sterling asked, turning his palms up.

“You see these prices?”   Kimberly asked.  “I can’t afford anything in here!”

“I can,”  Sterling told her.

Kim shook her head.  “I can’t let you buy me anything from here, Sterling.  I appreciate the gesture, but…”

Sterling clasped her hand and pulled her back inside.  Kimberly shook her head, and reluctantly continued to browse.  Sterling lifted a pair of heels on display.

“Cute!”  Kimberly told him.  She took the heels and examined the tag.  “These are Manolos, and they are thirteen hundred bucks!”

“May I help you find something?”  the saleswoman asked.

“We’ll take these shoes in a size…”  Sterling peered down at Kimberly’s feet.  “Seven?”

“Wow, you’re good!”  Kim said with a smile.  “But, Sterling, I can’t accept those shoes.”

“You’re right,”  Sterling told her.  “How could you accept a pair of shoes, without a dress to match?”

“Sterling!”

Sterling whirled, and spotted a dress on display across the room.  He rushed to it, and Kimberly raced behind him. 

“This is a Louis Vuitton original,”  Kimberly told him.

Sterling examined the black and copper chiffon layered crinoline dress.  “This is good.”

Kimberly lifted the tag.  “This is
fourteen thousand dollars
!”

“This matches those Manolo Blahnik heels I just bought you.”

“Sterling, no!”

Sterling handed the saleswoman his black American Express card, and a business card with his Martha’s Vinyard address on it.  “Have it delivered this evening, please.”

“Very good, sir!”  she said, bowing her head slightly.  She ran his card through her verification machine, and then handed it back to him.

Sterling and Kim headed out of the store and continued their leisurely stroll down the avenue.

“Sterling, I can’t accept that dress,”  Kim told him.

“That dress is a done deal,”  Sterling told her.  “If I can’t buy things for my girlfriend, then this relationship sucks.”

Kim laughed.  “You can buy me things, just not things that cost as much as a small economy car.”

Sterling pulled her close.  “You told me about your mother’s hopes and aspirations for you.  What about your own dreams?”

“My dreams?”

“Yeah, tell me about
your
dreams.  What do you want to do with your life?”

“Ideally, I would love to have my own fashion line.  I love to design clothes.  Give me a pencil, and a blank tablet, and I’m good.”

“You have real talent.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.  I really like your designs.  In fact, I want to show them to some people over at Vespasian, with your permission of course.”

“Vespasian?”  Kim shook her head.  “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“I think you are.”

“Sterling, in that show in New Orleans, Vespasian showed designs that were light years ahead of everyone else.  It was like art gliding down the runway.  And in the Hamptons, the Geisha and Yakuza themes were out of this world.  I can’t create like that.  That’s on a whole other level.”

“Kim, I’ve seen your designs!”  Sterling said forcefully.  “You’re right there!  You just have to believe in yourself.”

Kim exhaled.

“You downplay your talent, you allow your mother to beat up on your career, you allow your boss to beat up on your achievements.  You have to get out of that downtrodden mentality and realize how wonderful you are.”

Kim caressed the side of Sterling’s face.  “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,”  Sterling told her.  “I’m just telling the truth.  You’re smart, sharp, hard working, and talented.  You can put a fashion line together.  I can help you.”

“You’d be willing to help me?”

“Of course.”

Kim turned and hugged him.

“As a matter of fact, let me show your designs to some of my people at Vespasian.”

Reluctantly, Kim nodded.

“Great.  You’re on your way.  You could be the next Caroline Herrera, or Miuccia Prada, or Coco Chanel.”

“Get out of here!”

“You can do anything,”  Sterling said sternly.  He pulled her close, and she wrapped her arms around him.  The two kissed passionately for several moments.  “You want to go for a walk along the beach?”

“First, let’s go back to your beach house so that I can change.”

“Change?”  Sterling held her arm up and examined her.  “You look fantastic.”

“I want to put on my two piece, and grab my sandals.  I have some cute Ferragamo sandals that I have been dying to wear.”

Sterling laughed.  “Women.”

“You’re going to love my Dad,”  Kim told him.  “He says that same thing all the time.  You two are soul mates.”

“Yeah?  Then maybe I should be dating him.”

“And leave me with my mother?”  Kim lifted an eyebrow.  “I don’t think so!”

She and Sterling shared a long laugh.  His laughter abated, when the glare of the Sun reflected off of an object in a shop window.

BOOK: Just Another Damn Love Story
8.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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