by Meg Jackson
“I don’t even know,” Kim said, honestly. “He just stormed right past me.”
“Heard he’s been on a bit of a bender,” Ricky confided. “Should the good people of Kingdom be worried?”
“Nah,” Kim said. “I can handle him. The town is safe for another night of shots and pints at Sammy’s.”
After hanging up with her sister, Kim listened for any more signs of distress from Mayor Gunderson's office. To her relief, he seemed to have calmed down; or, he was in the eye of the storm. Either way, she knew this would be a good time to poke her head in.
“Mayor,” she asked, knocking gently before sliding the door open a bit. “Is everything alright?”
He looked up at her and offered a wan smile. She wasn't entirely surprised to see that he had a copy of the day's paper open before him.
“Everything’s fine,” he said, leaning back in his chair. His salt-and-pepper hair was slightly mussed and he ran his fingers through it, which really only served to emphasize the fact that his hair was truly not long for this world. “Long night is all.”
He pointed down at the paper. Kim didn't need to approach him to figure out he was pointing at Ricky's article.
“Your sister,” Mayor Gunderson continued, now leaning forward slightly and joining his two index fingers together under his nose in a sharp peak, “is a very, very good writer. And the story is...intriguing. You've read it, I'm sure?”
Kim nodded. It was extremely well written. And extremely intriguing, despite her own personal investment in the manner. Kim thought “provocative” would also be a good way to describe it, but she didn't offer that suggestion to the mayor.
“What do you think?” he asked. When he looked at her, she saw only curiosity.
“Well, I mean, you know,” she said, “I'm not quite an unbiased reader. Not just because of Ricky...”
Mayor Gunderson chuckled.
“I suppose not,” he said, then sighed. “I wonder if there's something I missed all those years ago. You know, I was on this case. I never got over it. I went to high school with Rhonda. I was always fond of her. She was such a sweet girl. This article...it just makes me wonder if I could have seen something at the time...”
“Oh,” Kim said, entering the office fully to take a seat in front of Mayor Gunderson. “I mean, you can't beat yourself up about the past like that. You were just one man. If Pieter Volanis didn't do it...I mean, even the detectives and lieutenants and stuff working the case overlooked things, then. And you were just an officer.”
“I know, Kimmy, I know,” Mayor Gunderson said, his head still lowered. “It just makes a man wonder.”
There was a moment of silence, broken only at the sharp ring of Mayor Gunderson's phone. He jumped, having been lost in his thoughts, and then let out a single hearty laugh.
“Time moves on though, doesn't it, Kimmy? Gotta deal with the now, you know...now,” he said, and picked up the phone. His smile immediately turned into a grimace and Kim thought his eyes might actually roll back into his head. He waved his hand at her and she rose to leave.
“Yeah, Hendrix, I've read it, of course I read it! I'm the damn Mayor, I always read the paper...”
Kim bit back a smile; Pastor Hendrix was giving it good to Mayor Gunderson. She could hear his yowling even as he back to the door. Gunderson made a face at her to show his exasperation.
“I'm a man of God, too, Dick...”
She shut the door behind her, the smile turning to a grimace as she remembered Pastor Hendrix's anger, his cruel words. She didn't understand how Mayor Gunderson could abide a friendship with a man like that. But Pastor Hendrix held plenty of sway, and endorsed the incumbent Mayor every time an election came around. Kim's stomach clenched slightly. This was why she could never run for office: there was no amount of ballots that could inspire her to kiss up to a bigot.
28
Ana clapped her hands once as she turned to give a last look over her shop. The grocery was fully stocked, but didn't look cluttered. The aisles were divided by product: coffee, tea, candies, packaged pastries in one aisle. Then the cured meats, jerkies and salamis and pickled fish and caviar in their elegant tin cans and glass jars, with fancy mustards and condiments mixed in. An aisle of redolent incense and curios from India and Eastern Europe.
Refrigerators and freezers lining the walls held imported ales and local ciders, ready-to-bake doughs, ice-packed wild-caught fish, ice creams and convenience meals that bore bright labels advertising their product in both the native language and English. The ad was in the paper, and the papers of the surrounding towns. It was opening day.
Four members of the kumpania would work as managers and cashiers, and Ana had also hired a local woman to assist with inventory as well as a handful of local part-timers to stock shelves and man the registers. As she flipped the sign to Open for the first time, she opened the door as well. It wasn't wise to let the air conditioning run out into the July heat, but Ana knew that passers-by who were looking for respite from the oppressive humidity would be drawn to the cool air they felt as they strolled by the open door.
“What's this?” Kim asked; Kennick stood just behind her, bemused by her boundless curiosity. She was holding a red jar he knew all too well, and that made him smile even wider.
“Surströmming,” he said, taking the jar from her hand. He remembered, vividly, the one time he'd been cajoled into trying it. “It's rancid pickled fish from Sweden.”
Kim raised an eyebrow, studying him for signs that he was joking.
“I'm serious,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “It smells like death and tastes even worse. Not for the faint of heart.”
“Why is your aunt selling rancid fish?” Kim asked in a low voice, glancing over Kennick's shoulder as Ana stood by the window, looking out at the early morning activity on Main Street. It was opening day for most of the new businesses, except the hair salon and the gentleman's club. The hair salon was delayed by a late shipment of the salon's hairdryers. The gentleman’s club was tabled indefinitely as war continued to rage in Town Hall over the moral fiber of Kingdom's citizens versus their rapidly emptying wallets.
The veterinary practice had actually opened a week earlier, and was slowly but steadily building a clientele of pet-owners and farmers alike. Cristov's tattoo parlor already had a few appointments that day, thanks to the wonders of social media. His talent, and his ability to choose likewise talented artists, had attracted a decent amount of attention on Instagram and Facebook.
Damon's cheese shop was across the street and a few doors down from Ana's store, and Kim had already seen a few cars slow down as they passed the new storefront. Again, social media was on their side, and Let It Brie had garnered an impressive amount of “likes” on Facebook.
Kim had gawked when she'd heard that stiff-lipped Damon actually called his cheese shop Let It Brie, but when he saw her face he just laughed. She remembered that day as she examined the neatly-stacked tin cans on the shelves.
She had gone to the trailer that day looking for Kennick, who'd agreed to let her pick their date that night, but found Damon working on his laptop on the kitchen table.
“Kennick'll be back soon,” he'd said, glancing up at her when she entered. “He's off trying to keep some cousins from tearing each other apart.”
She'd felt comfortable settling in across from Damon at the table, and could hear Cristov's music playing gently from his room. Damon had another mysterious bruise on his face, but while Kim felt comfortable around Kennick's brothers she felt that Damon's scars and marks were off-limits. No one had to tell her that, she just picked up on it.
“What're you working on?” she'd asked, and when Damon had turned the computer around to show her, she'd been impressed by the professional-looking Facebook page he was building...and the name of the cheese shop, of course.
“What?” he'd said, eyes holding a rare sparkle. “It's a gouda name.”
Cristov's groan had crossed the length of the trailer.<
br />
“I never knew you were such a fan of puns,” Kim said, shaking her head in wonder.
“I like them mostly because Cristov hates them,” Damon had said in a low voice before calling out loudly: “graters gonna grate!”
Cristov's responding howl held a soul-searing pain that made Kim laugh until her ribs hurt.
This had all happened a week after the article had appeared. Much, though not all, of the fervor surrounding the article had died off by then. What hadn’t yet died off were the growing rumors about Kim, one of Kingdom’s own, being intimate with Kennick, one of the “others.” Most people kept their feelings to themselves, good or bad.
Some less tactful acquaintances wanted all the gritty details about what “they” were like (on more than one occasion, a well-meaning schoolmate from Kim’s class at Kingdom High wanted to know if the sex was as good as they imagined). And a few, Pastor Hendrix and Bob Talkee among them, made no small effort to sneer and grumble at Kim every chance they got.
But none of that mattered to Kim; she only cared about Kennick, and the way he made her feel like twice the woman a man would ever need, made her anxiety take a backseat to her confidence, and looked at her with nothing but love.
And she'd become increasingly fond of Damon and Cristov as well. On the nights that Kennick brought Kim back to the trailer instead of going to her apartment, they were usually around, often surrounded by friends and kin from the kumpania. There was a clear and obvious closeness between all the gypsies, but Damon, Cristov, and Kennick had a special bond, shared by their sister Mina, though Kim saw less of her because she didn't live in the trailer.
And Kim could appreciate the seamless way Kennick's brothers and sister accepted her into the fold, even if that meant she got an earful in the morning from Cristov about how she and Kennick had kept him up all night. She appreciated even less the constant questions about Ricky; for two people who ostensibly hated each other, both Cristov and Ricky were extremely interested in the other's life. Kim heard it from her sister whenever she saw her, and from Cristov whenever she saw him. The questions were always the same: “how's that snappy sister of yours?” or “how's that cocky brother of his?”. It was the frequency that gave both wonderers away.
That day, when Kennick had come in to find Kim in tears and Cristov standing in the doorway of his room trying to look angry but clearly fighting a smile, he'd looked happier than she could almost ever remember seeing him. She knew how important it was that she accept his family, and that his family accept her.
“Laughing behind my back?” he said jokingly, reaching over the top of the booth to put his hands on Kim's shoulders and kiss her cheek. “Not very nice, Little Mayor.”
“Not everything is about you,” Damon said good-naturedly and slipped a sly glance in Cristov's direction. “Curd you be anymore vain?”
Cristov fell to the ground with a dramatic wail, feigning a seizure as his brothers laughed.
Kim was shaken from the memory as Ana's voice filled the store.
“Welcome!”
Kim and Kennick turned; the first customer to Seven Seas World Market had arrived, and Ana was beaming like a proud mother.
“Hey, Jimmy!” Kim waved, a bit surprised to see her friend on the force in an exotic grocery, but happy nonetheless. Kennick stiffened almost imperceptibly beside her, but when she twined her fingers between his, he forced his spine to relax.
“Kim,” Jimmy said, approached with his ever-friendly smile. “Nice to see you. And nice to see you again, too, man.”
The smile Jimmy offered was so guileless, so friendly and unthreatening, that Kim was surprised that Kennick didn't return it immediately. But her heart lifted when he finally did offer a smile – true, it was a ghost of the warm-hearted smile he saved for the kumpania and Kim, but it was a far sight better than his face had looked last time he had met Jimmy. The fact that Jimmy was in plainclothes instead of a uniform probably helped.
“Same,” Kennick offered, and then stuck his hand out. Jimmy's grin widened as he gripped it in his. Kim felt surprisingly proud and pleased; her man was making an effort. And she knew it was only for her benefit. Just as she needed to accept and be accepted by his family, Kennick needed to accept and be accepted by Kim's town, its people. Of course, some would never accept him, a thought which pained her heart more than she cared to admit, but the good ones...those were the important ones, anyway.
“What's brought you in here?” Kim asked.
“Just looks like an interesting place every time I go by,” Jimmy said with a shrug. “Wanted to see what sorta stuff they sell. What's that?”
He pointed to the can Kim still held in her hand. She grimaced and replaced it on the shelf.
“You don't want to know,” she said. “Come here though. If I remember correctly, you're a fiend for ice cream. You should see the stuff in the freezer, it's from all over. They've got this cardamom ice cream from Israel, and this whiskey ice cream from Australia...”
As Kim led her friend towards the freezer, chatting about ice cream flavors and which one would best appease Jimmy's PMS-ing girlfriend, Kennick moved towards his aunt.
“She is a good saleslady,” Ana noted, watching Kim point out all the flavors on display. “Any chance she wants to quit her job and work here?”
Kennick laughed.
“Not a chance, Beebi,” he said. She studied him with a slight smile on her lips.
“You've got a strong ken for that girl, don't you?”
He was bashful when he met her eyes.
“When Baba Tayti was leaving us, she foretold something great in my love life,” he said. “She said it would be the kind of thing that comes on so quick you can barely tell it's happening until you're neck-deep in it. I think she might have been seeing Kim.”
Ana nodded.
“After bad luck comes good fortune,” she said. “Losing Pieter and Baba was your bad luck. You're due for some good fortune.”
He sighed as Kim's laugh, strong but silvery, like wind chimes blown by a strong gust, filled the store. He loved that sound. With every beat of his heart, he loved it. He loved her.
“You think it's alright, Beebi?” he asked. “To love a girl like that? She's not one of us. I don't know if she ever could be. And she loves this town, even though...well, you know why that's hard.”
“You know, I'm a bit more traditional than you, Kennick,” Ana said with a slight shrug, her green eyes open and honest. “I'd rather you find a nice Rom girl to marry. I think that's the right thing. But a good horse can't be of a bad color. I don't think any love is ever wrong. Even your damned uncle...well, I love him, and that's alright. And she's bound to do you far less harm than your uncle does me.”
“Uncle Nevimos say when he's coming back yet?”
Ana scoffed.
“Your uncle will show up when he gets lonely or runs out of money. Thinks this magician thing is going to hit big and he'll put us all on the map. Bring glory back to the name of gypsy. The world is a ladder, in which some go up and others go down. Your uncle has been heading down for a long, long time.”
Kim turned mid-sentence, and caught Kennick's eye. He winked at her and she blushed before resuming her conversation with Jimmy, who noted the red on her cheeks and smiled broadly.
“Who would have thought,” Jimmy said in a lower voice than they'd been using previously, “that Kim James would wind up in a gypsy's arms. I always thought you were so sensible...”
Kim frowned slightly. She didn't see how loving Kennick meant she wasn't sensible. Picking up on it, Jimmy rushed to clarify.
“I just mean...you know, you've always seemed so logical and straightforward. Always seemed like you were heading straight for the world of white picket fences. I guess I assume gypsies are a little more...wild.”
“Well,” Kim said with a sigh. “I guess you're right. I mean, it's surprised me, too. But Kennick's not wild in a bad way, you know? He's a good man. Just a little eccentric. Doesn't wear a
watch. Doesn't care about the same sort of things other men I've dated have cared about. But he's good to me.”
“I can tell,” Jimmy said with a smile. “You seem really happy, Kim. I'm happy for you. And he doesn't seem to like me much, but I guess I can understand that. Especially after reading that article. Man, Chief was pissed when that came out. And Bob Talkee came by raging that we should go and run them out of town. I don't know what he thought, that this was like Frankenstein's village or something and the cops would go in with torches and pitchforks. But Chief and Bob have been best friends forever, and Bob pitching a fit didn't help Chief's mood.”
Chief Geller had always been a very stern sort of man. Kim can't remember ever seeing him smile, even in a good mood. She could only imagine what he would look like in a bad mood.
“Can I ask...what did you think?” Kim bit her lip, waiting for Jimmy's answer. He seemed to consider the question, eyeing the ice cream without purpose, before speaking.
“I think there were some good points made. But I don't know; I'm not sure it's any of my business what I think of it. All I know is that the guy was cleared in the eyes of the law, which means something. And I know that if anyone in town tries to mess with our newest residents, they're not gonna get any leniency. Not from me, at least. Can't say the same for Chief Geller, but most of the guys on the force pretty much agree that you can't go around making people's lives hell because their Pop may or may not have had something to do with something thirty years ago.”
Kim's heart warmed to know that her suspicions about her town were proving true. Jimmy wouldn't lie to her. They'd been too good of friends for far too long for that. If he told her that most of Kingdom's police force stood for justice over prejudice, she believed him. Impulsively, she reached over and wrapped him in a quick, friendly hug.
“That makes me happy to hear, Jim,” she said, still holding his arms while Kennick appeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her possessively. Jimmy laughed amiably as he held his hands up, palms out.