The Kaleidoscope Album Box Set

by Bryce Oakley

  Sabrina raised an eyebrow. "I can see we've touched on something a bit deeper..." She paused, watching Domino. "Why do these jeans mean so much to you?"

  "They don't," Domino admitted.

  Sabrina tilted her head. "I'm not following. Five seconds ago, you basically told me I could pry them from your cold, dead hands, but now you're saying they don't matter to you?"

  Domino realized she was breathing quickly, getting worked up about denim. "I'm not getting rid of them. I don't care what you say. You can stay out of my closet if it bothers you so much," she said.

  Sabrina sighed, holding up her palms in defeat. "Fine. I'll stay out of the closet," she said.

  Domino let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

  "Change of subject," Sabrina said, glancing out the door of the bedroom. "You have a guest bedroom."

  Domino nodded, not following the new train of thought. "I do," she said slowly, suddenly skeptical.

  "Why did you make me sleep on the couch the other night, then?" Sabrina asked,

  Domino's defenses fell almost as quickly as they had gone up. She rubbed the back of her neck, chuckling. "Well, I didn't think you could make it up the stairs on your own and I wasn't about to carry you," she admitted.

  Sabrina pressed her lips together in a thin line, nodding. "Good grief," she said. "I know I said we'd just forget it ever happened, but I do just want to thank you for making sure I got home safely."

  "Well, I think you got home safely," Domino admitted. "I came back from surfing and you were gone."

  "Your note kind of make it seem like you wanted me to be gone," Sabrina said with a shrug. Her face darkened as though it embarrassed her to admit it.

  "Oh," Domino said, frowning. It was funny that she had left a note for Sabrina, when lately it was women leaving her the notes. She wanted to say that she had had a lot of fun with drunk Sabrina, that it was nice to finally see the woman let down her hair. That she liked what she saw –– a fun, carefree woman without a filter between her brain and mouth. "I didn't..." Her voice trailed off as an awkward tension grew between them.

  Sabrina cleared her throat, tapping her notebook. "Anyway, I have all I need here, so I'm going to make up a plan and a shopping list."

  "A shopping list?" Domino asked, arching a brow. "For what?"

  "Drawer organizers, clear bins, things that will help me make sure your place doesn't fall into its sad state the moment I leave," Sabrina said with a small grin.

  "What, they just have an entire store for organizers?" Domino asked, confused.

  "Uh, yeah. It's called The Organizer Store," Sabrina said, laughing.

  "You're lying," Domino said, grinning.

  "Scout's honor," Sabrina said, holding up the fingers of her left hand in what Domino imagined was a scout salute.

  "Oh," Domino said, rolling her eyes. "Well, that sounds extremely thrilling."

  "It's my favorite store in the entire world," Sabrina said, shifting her weight on her legs shyly. "It's like my Disneyland."

  Domino raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "No way," she said. "Does it have fireworks?"

  Sabrina narrowed her eyes. "Want to go there with me?"

  Domino laughed, then realized Sabrina was serious. She tried not to immediately panic. "Disneyland?" She joked.

  Sabrina shook her head. "The Organizer Store."

  "Oh, um... sure?" She answered, her voice rising in question. What exactly was she agreeing to?

  "Wednesday, then. I'll get all of my ideas out tomorrow and then make a list. Get prepared for your mind to be blown," Sabrina said, mimicking the saying with her fingers faking an explosion out of her temples.

  "You're really talking this up, Sab," Domino teased, liking this silly side of Sabrina. "I don't know if anything could live up to that hype."

  Sabrina walked past her out of the room, mimicking the mind-blowing gesture one more time. "Get. Ready.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sabrina

  Sabrina watched Domino stare up and down the aisle of tiny, clear, organizers. There were clear bins, drawers, spice racks that spun... Sabrina could barely slow her pounding heart. Even just the smell of the store –– fresh linen with a hint of eucalyptus, if she was guessing correctly –– made want to clap her hands together with excitement.

  All of the possibility made her giddy.

  "You're right, my mind is... blown," Domino admitted, though her voice sounded distinctly nonplussed. She had her hands shoved into the pockets of her black jeans.

  Sabrina glared down at the denim she had attempted to confiscate, although they really did make Domino's backside look fantastic, so maybe she could keep that one pair. Sabrina was a reasonable person able to compromise, after all.

  Sabrina ultimately decided to ignore Domino's tone. "I know, right? Okay, let me show you what I'm imagining for your closet," she said, and had to take a deep breath to keep from giggling in excitement as she led Domino to another aisle filled with stackable bins and drawers.

  "Oh," Domino said, her eyes growing wide as they scanned up towards the ceiling. "But, why?"

  Sabrina put her hands on Domino's shoulders. "Remember. You trust me," she said, giving Domino a little shake.

  "Today is the day I learned that looks can be deceiving," Domino said, leaning forward to open a tiny drawer of a jewelry organizer.

  "Oh? Why is that?" Sabrina dared to ask.

  "Because you look like a very normal, well-adjusted person. And yet, you, Miss Meloy, are a maniac," Domino said, punctuating the last word with jazz hands.

  "A maniac?" Sabrina asked, tilting her head. "For appreciating good design?"

  Domino shook her head. "No, you're a maniac because you guilt-tripped me into letting you organize my house, which is in no way working on your behalf," she said as she began counting the reasons on her fingers. "And then you drank so much that I had to fireman carry you home."

  "––Well, I do remember us agreeing to never mention that again," Sabrina interjected, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "And lower your voice, please."

  "And then you told me––" Domino stopped talking abruptly, a tiny crease appearing between her brows.

  Sabrina arched an eyebrow. "Told you what?"

  "Uh," Domino stalled, as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn't. "You told me this was Disneyland!" She said enthusiastically.

  A child nearby gasped, blinking. "This is Disneyland?!" He turned toward his mother, looking extremely upset.

  "Dom, darling, you're upsetting children," Sabrina said, trying to use a nickname for Domino as casually as Domino had begun using a nickname for her. She grabbed Domino's arm as she laughed, dragging her out of the aisle with an apologetic wave to the kid's mother.

  "Well, it seems like torture to bring a child in here, anyway," Domino whispered, glaring at Sabrina.

  "I'm going to give you a task, and you're going to find it fun," Sabrina said, pulling her notebook out of her bag. She tapped her the toe of her leopard-print loafer on the ground as she flipped through the pages.

  "You are going to create a new shoe organizer for your closet. I want you to picture all of your shoes being in one, easy-to-find, non-oven place," Sabrina said, trying to set the scene. "It's going to set on the floor and it's going to have multiple tiers. The top tier will be for your taller boots. You get to design it however you'd like."

  Domino blinked. "Sorry, wait, when does the fun part come in?" She crossed her arms.

  "Geez Louise, Domino, I find it very hard to believe that you can't make this fun," Sabrina said. "Now, go ask that very nice lady over there –– her name is Samantha –– to help you create what you're envisioning."

  "Geez Louise," Domino repeated, grinning. "I haven't heard that since second grade."

  Sabrina narrowed her eyes, then pointed. "Go. Shoes. Now."

  Sabrina spent the next hour filling four shopping carts with bins of all shapes and sizes. There were the clear, open bins for
Domino's pantry, the fabric-covered ones for the shelving, the drawer bins for her closet, the shallow bins for the bathroom, the flexible bins for the drawers... She ticked boxes next to the list. She had even grabbed display stands for Domino's surfboard, guitars, and awards.

  She looked around the store, surprised that Domino wasn't standing beside her, complaining that she was taking too long. Then, she heard Domino's laughter.

  Curious, she peered around an end-cap of bathroom drawer liners to see Domino standing with Gracia. Gracia, a younger employee at the store who had started around seven months before –– the day Sabrina desperately needed a wall-mounted necklace holder, in fact, because she remembered that day very clearly –– but she had proven to be less useful than most of the other employees.

  It seemed as though Domino didn't find her useless, though.

  Gracia was giggling, her cheeks bright red. "I don't think that's how that works," she said, breathless.

  "But it'd be kind of magical, right? Like just a rotating system, and then some type of computer... tablet, even..." Domino was gesturing wildly.

  "I bet I could help you figure it out. I'm an Engineering major, you know," Gracia said.

  "That sounds promising," Domino said, her back straightening. "But I'm already in very good hands."

  Sabrina's eyes narrowed. What was Domino going on about?

  "Oh?" Gracia said, her face revealing a range of expressions from rejection to intrigue.

  "Yeah, Sabrina Meloy is my organizer," Domino said.

  "Ah, our most prolific customer," Gracia said, her voice hardening ever-so-slightly.

  Domino seemed completely oblivious to Gracia's change in mood, but Sabrina wanted to punch the air in celebration.

  "Anyway, that explains my jeans issue. I'm going to need to figure that part out. I bet if I could fit thirty pairs of jeans in this thing, she'd let me keep them," Domino said.

  Sabrina took this as her cue. "I bet she wouldn't," she said, stepping out from behind the end-cap and casually walking over.

  Domino rolled her eyes with all the subtlety of a stage whisper. "Slow your roll," she said. "Want to see what Gracia and I have come up with for the closet? I know you said to just focus on the shoes, but then I got excited.”

  Sabrina sighed, feeling apprehensive about what type of disaster she was about to see. What had that been about revolving doors earlier? "Sure," she said.

  Gracia turned so that all three of them could see the tablet in her hands. "And here's Dom's grand design," she said.

  Sabrina's hackles raised slightly at Gracia's use of Domino's nickname. They were on nickname terms?

  She took a cleansing breath and looked down at the screen. It was a relatively simple design with way too much vertical space. The type of design that would make sense if Domino wore dresses, but she didn't. There were also way too many drawers that could get jam-packed with whatever Domino shoved inside of them. Sabrina preferred clear drawers with labels, instead.

  "Wow, it's great," she lied, looking up at Domino, who looked casual and non-committed to the entire event. "There are just a few things I'd adjust."

  "Okay," Domino said. "Like what?"

  "Here, let me show you," Sabrina said, reaching for the tablet in Gracia's hands. This wasn't her first rodeo. Gracia let the tablet go after a small struggle.

  Sabrina made her adjustments, explaining what and why she was doing things as she cut the vertical space in half with by using double hanging rods to increase capacity. She also lengthened the shelving to allow for more folded clothes, like sweaters and jeans. Then, all that was left to do was cut the drawers down to a manageable amount.

  Domino smirked, staring down at the screen. "Well, I guess that's why you're the professional," she said.

  Gracia looked visibly irritated and took the tablet back from Sabrina. "Alright, not exactly what I would have done," she murmured.

  Sabrina shrugged, turning to Domino. "We have enough to get started," she said.

  "But what about my closet?" Domino asked, looking between the two women.

  "They have to order in the pieces and then I'll pick them up," Sabrina explained. "Today, we're going full on in the pantry." She grinned, holding herself back from clapping excitedly.

  Domino raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Whatever you say, boss," she said, smiling.

  * * *

  Sabrina sat on the kitchen floor, organizing the labels she had made on her Cricut the night before. Her back ached and she was surrounded by non-perishable items, but at least the pantry was filled with more than just ramen.

  She hummed along with the soothing classical music coming out of her bluetooth speaker, labeling bins and bulk item containers. Cereal, brown sugar, an alarming amount of raisins...

  She heard a strange sound, and turned to find Domino stomping through the great room in her open wetsuit. She had given Domino the last few hours off to relax after the morning in The Organizer Store.

  Judging by Domino's dry hair and suit, she was on her way out, not in.

  "What's with the bee in your bonnet?" Sabrina asked, trying not to stare at Domino's open wetsuit, revealing her bikini top and toned stomach.

  "Nothing," Domino growled. Then, she paused, staring down at Sabrina's speaker. "What are you listening to?"

  "Oh, um, this one is Schumann," Sabrina answered, knowing the composer by heart.

  "Oh, I don't think I've heard of him," Domino said with a shrug.

  "Her, actually," Sabrina corrected, straightening out the "snacks" label she was putting on a bin. "Clara Schumann."

  Domino stared down at the speaker. "It sounds familiar, though," she said, putting her hands on her hips.

  "Well, she was married to another famous composer, and the secret lover of yet another," Sabrina said. "Although historians disagree on whether she actually acted on the affair with Brahms. Their letters are super romantic, though." She smoothed out the bubbles of the label.

  "Wow, a woman in high demand," Domino said, a small grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.

  Sabrina smirked. "Anyway, what's got you so upset?" She asked.

  "Nothing," Domino said. She shifted her weight between her feet. "I mean, it's not nothing. It's just the nothing that's upset me."

  Sabrina squinted, trying to understand. Was it something about her? She looked around the kitchen, her eyes widening. Granted, the kitchen was a bit of a mess with the pantry items splayed all over the counters and all of the bins sitting on the floor with her, but it would be cleaned up soon.

  "No, it's not this," Domino said, gesturing vaguely to the room. "It's... writing."

  Sabrina nodded. "Oh, that makes sense," she said. "You seemed to be writing the other day I was here."

  "I was, and I thought I had it back, but," Domino said, raking a hand through her hair. "I guess I don't."

  "I have a question," Sabrina said, her chest squeezing as she watched Domino's disappointment in herself.

  "Uh, okay," Domino said, fidgeting with the long zipper pull of her suit.

  "Why are you called The Shrikes?" Sabrina asked, trying to keep her expression neutral.

  Domino's brow furrowed in confusion. "Well, a shrike is a bird who impales its prey, like lizards or mice, typically on barbed wire. Billie and I were fascinated with them as kids. They're just so badass." Her expression grew much more excited as she went on.

  Sabrina cringed. "Oh, wow, that's intense," she said. "I always thought that you just misspelled strike. Or maybe like autocorrect?"

  Domino laughed, rolling her eyes.

  "My point is, why aren't you called Domino and the Shrikes?" Sabrina said.

  Domino blinked, staring down at her. "Because I'm not the lead?"

  "But you're also not called Billie and the Shrikes," Sabrina said, tilting her head.

  Domino pressed her lips together in thought. "We never even considered that, I guess," she said. "We're a band, not one person's backup band."

  "But only you
write the songs?" Sabrina asked, trying to understand Domino's frustration.

  "Kind of," Domino said. "I wrote most of the last album with Billie, but this album seems to be more of a solo adventure so far. Not for lack of Billie trying. I just can't seem to write much right now."

  Sabrina nodded. "That's a lot of pressure to put on yourself," she said.

  Domino didn't respond, but Sabrina could see her jaw clench.

  "So, then, I suppose I'm just wondering why all of the writing has come down to you?" Sabrina asked, trying to phrase her question gently.

  Domino sighed. "Well, Billie's off writing and recording with Vero. And when she and I are together, I just can't seem to write anything," she explained.

  "Look, I know I'm the new kid on the block, and I'm not exactly positive how things work in your band," Sabrina began. "But from what I know of Zoey, she'd be psyched to be included on the writing process. Maybe Meghan would, too."

  Domino furrowed her brow. "We just haven't done that before," she said slowly.

  "Have you ever tried?" Sabrina asked, leaning back to rest her weight on her palms to give her back a break from sitting on the ground.

  "I..." Domino raked a hand through her hair again. "Well, I guess not." She looked confused, staring out the window. "Did Zoey say something to you?"

  Sabrina shook her head. She wasn't extremely close with Zoey, and she was more of a mutual friend than an actual friend, but she had been over to Zoey's place once or twice and had listened to the woman play keyboard for a few people. Sabrina remembered distinctly that it was an original piece, too, that Zoey had joked would never see the light of day.

  Domino leaned on the counter. "I don't know why I never thought to invite them to write with us. Now I feel like an asshole," she murmured, and Sabrina had the thought that she was talking more to herself than Sabrina.

  "I don't think you should feel like an asshole," Sabrina said, watching Domino's darkened expression. "That's not why I brought it up. I just don't like seeing you so upset. Whenever I'm in a creative rut, I ask someone else for their opinion. And in your case, Zoey and Meghan are pretty big stakeholders. They could be your George and Ringo if you let them. Well, maybe not Ringo, but definitely George.”