Chapter 11

"Wow!" Zoë exclaimed. "Graduating at sixteen. What about college?"

Kim smiled. We'd had some talks. "I'm still working on it. I think I have a few months to think about it. Might be able to squeeze out a scholarship or two." She looked at me.

"And I can cover college for her easy enough," I said.

"I'm thinking of mass communications," Zoë said. "Do you have even a hint?"

Kim's eyes twinkled. I pretty much knew what would come out of that sassy mouth. "Engineering? I know this engineer REAL well."

"Oh, come on!" Denise blurted. "Engineering? Really?"

Kim sat up a little straighter. "There are female engineers. Bunches of 'em. I checked. And they're usually being recruited while they're still in college."

I knew that not only were Denise's gears turning, but so were her dad's. Four years of college ought to end up with something with dollar signs, preferably related to the last four years. Jeff was sitting there shaking his head.

"Okay, Dad," Zoë said. "What're ya thinkin'?"

"What Kim just said about being recruited in college." Jeff smiled. "I hope you find something for mass communications, Denise."

"Oh, Dad, something will come up."

Jeff left the conversation at that point. I get the feeling that this wasn't the first time the subject had been broached. And I wasn't entirely sure that Kimberly was angling towards engineering, but far be it from her to leave a conversation to founder on its own. However, she elected to not push this one any further, instead skipping off to the kitchen to watch Mom a little bit more.

"How'd you end up with HER?" Denise asked.

"She chose me. I chose her."

"And you're getting married? For real?"

"Only kind I know of."

Giggle from my eighteen year old niece. "I've heard of temporary ones."

"Had one of those," I said. "Didn't know it at the time. That kind hurts somebody."

"I know people..." she started.

"Who don't realize that they're hurting themselves or somebody else." Okay, it's an opinion. But it's MY opinion, and I'm entitled to it. "It cheapens what should be one of the foundations of a relationship."

"Some people don't think like that, Uncle Tim," Denise said.

I really didn't want to argue this point, but there was a brunette peering in from the kitchen who didn't see my trepidations.

"Uh, Denise, my mom pretty much ended up with that attitude. I don't know if she started that way, but too many hurtings and being hurt and she was pretty much shot as far as having a conscience about anything. That's why she's in prison."

"Uh, your mom's in prison?"

"Oh, yeah," Kim said. "You can imagine my pride. Drugs, prostitution. I wonder what life would've been like with a real mom."

"I had no idea, Kim," Denise said.

"It's not exactly something one advertises," Kim said. "But it's part of what makes me who I am. And I take this boy-girl stuff seriously."

"I can understand that," Zoë injected. "I think I can, anyway."

I motioned for Kim to come to me and I put my arm around her waist. She backed a little closer, pulling herself into my grasp. "We make each other safe and happy," I said.

"And loved," Kim said softly. "It's about love. Sex is easy. Lots of people have sex like it's easy. But love is better." She looked around. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be a downer."

"And I didn't mean to be an ignorant ass, Kim. I'm not like that at all. I was just jerkin' Uncle Tim's chain." Denise smiled wanly. "Guess I shoulda picked another subject. He's easy to get to, you know..."

Kim smiled. "Yeah, but he gives back pretty good, too. You should hear us when we're with my Aunt Jen and Laci."

"Y'all hang out together?" Dad asked.

I nodded. "Heck of a gang, Dad. "Conversation. Laughter. And they cook breakfast."

"Not to mention Trivial Pursuit," Kim said. Her levity was back, twinkling in those eyes.

Dad didn't play that game, but I'd played with the nieces and Connie and Jeff. With disastrous results.

"Mom won't play with 'im," Zoë said. "The last time, he stomped all of us."

Kim smirked. "And he gloated?"

"Only enough to make my mom swear that hell would freeze over before we played with 'im again."

"He's formidable. But I've beaten 'im. And when we play with Aunt Jen an' Laci, they invoke 'Kimberly Rules' on us."

"What's 'Kimberly Rules'?" Denise asked.

"When we start a game, they get to draw a couple of random pieces for a head start." Kim was smirking now. So was I as I was remembering the outrage the first time we played.

"Mommmmmm!" Zoë yelled. "C'mere, please!

Connie showed up. "What's so important that I have to interrupt your grandmother's story?"

Zoë pointed to Kim. "Tell Mom about 'Kimberly Rules'."

Kim was grinning as she explained.

Connie looked at me after Kim finished. "And one more. If he gloats after he wins, I get to dump a bucket of cold water on 'im."

"Was he that bad?" Kim asked. "He's always so sweet and funny."

"You didn't have to grow up with 'im," Connie said. "Little brothers feel it's their life's work to make their sweet older sisters miserable."

Denise jumped in. "But we can have Kim an' Uncle Tim over for a game?"

"I'll be good," I said. "Maybe only the tiniest amount of gloating."

"What makes you think you'll win?" Connie said.

"Because you got the looks and I got the brains, Sis," I said.

"Game's on, then. Next Friday night good for y'all?"

Jeff came in from outside. "What's Friday night?"

"Kim 'n' Tim coming over to play Trivial Pursuit."

"Oh, shit!" Jeff looked at me. "Don't beat 'er too bad. She takes it all out on us."

"Did NOT! I was having hormonal issues!"

"I understand that getting your butt kicked by your little brother does that," I said.

Kim slapped my arm. "Tim! Be nice to your sister!"

Dad came back in the door. "Kim, they've been like that since she got over the novelty when we brought him home from the hospital."

Connie and Mom and Kim and her new nieces set the table, an unusual thing in the house where I grew up. "I want Kim to know we're not uncivilized," Mom said.

"Oh, I'd never think that," Kim said. "This is all so wonderful! I'm going to love being part of this family."

Mom looked at me. "Now you see, son, if you'd have gotten Kim instead of that THING you married..."

"Mom," I reminded her, "When I got married, Kim was eight."

"Shoulda waited," Mom said.

Kim's smile. Priceless.

After the meal, Dad and I and Jeff retired to the den to partake of Dad's pastime for autumn Saturdays, college football, while the female half of the contingent made short work of the kitchen clean-up.

When the ladies came back into the den, Kim was carrying a tray of coffee mugs. She sat it on the table and made a big show of fixing mine. "Two sugars. One cream. That's how he takes it," she announced.

"Good thing to know," Mom said. "How your husband takes his coffee. And it doesn't hurt to bring it to him from time to time."

Dad didn't miss that comment. "And turnabout is fair play."

"See," Kim said, "Share. Not fifty-fifty. Both give a hundred percent."

"Marry her, Timothy," Mom said. She used my formal name. That's shorthand for 'I'm serious.'

"Saturday before Thanksgiving, he's gonna," Kim said. "It's not gonna be a big deal, not as far as all that taffeta and lace and stuff. But if you and Dad are there, it's the biggest deal imaginable."

"Is it gonna be in a church?" Denise asked.

"I dunno about that," Kim said. "Aunt Jen's not exactly a churchgoer, you know. May just stuff them and us and you guys into the meeting hall at the apartment and get somebody who can do the ceremony."

Connie sounded a little surprised. "You got this all figured out?"

"It's a formality, Connie," she said. "I have already exchanged vows with your brother. We need a piece of paper from the state, that's all. I know about 'married in the eyes of God.' We're there."

I knew that several people were parsing the full meaning of that statement. Kim and I had run over the meaning while drifting down from some tender moments. I knew exactly how permanent that piece of paper, a marriage certificate, could be if one party didn't care. I cared. Kim says she cares. A quick glance around the room and I saw that some people couldn't do as good a job of hiding the information. A couple of nieces had little smirks.

Dad called us back to the football game at hand. At halftime, the female contingent got up and went to the living room, leaving me and Dad and Jeff in the den.

"Son," Dad said, "She's something. Seems to have a presence. Seems like she knows who she is and what she's about. But so young..."

"I know, Dad," I said. "But..."

"But you need to understand that you need to take care of HER. She's young. Got some growing to do. I just hope you and she grow together. You know what happens when it goes the other way."

"I do."

"I wish my two had their heads on that straight," Jeff said. "I'm like your dad. She's ... Oh, hell, if you ever tell 'er I said it, I'll have to kill you, but your sister wasn't that mature when we got married." He paused. "Of course, neither was I. We had some rough times before we figured each other out and settled in together for keeps."

"Dad. Jeff. I may be crazy. I may be making a mistake, even. But I don't think so. Kim's different in so many ways. If she was thirty, it would be a whole different thing, but she's not. Instead, she's the most level-headed, astoundingly intelligent thing I've ever met, and we both start smiling when we see each other."

"Son, just so you know the difference between 'new' and 'real'." Dad was serious. He put up with me grieving when my first marriage came apart.

"Dad, I appreciate you worrying. This ain't that. Listen to her talk. Watch her. She's genuine. That's a person who's had plenty of 'fake' in her life. I dunno. It's like something between us just clicks."

"She is a charmer," Jeff said. "She has to be different. You know how many boyfriends my two have been through? And none of 'em's been forty."

"And I've dated some in their thirties and forties who don't have their head as together as Kim does. And she doesn't have the same kind of baggage. No exes, no kids, no ex-in-laws."

"Just her aunt," Dad said. "I guess I'm old-fashioned. That's hard to swallow."

"Careful, Pop," I said. "That was dangerously close to a joke."

Dad put on his smirk. "An' I wasn't even tryin'," he said.

"Jen and Laci are good people. They like food and movies and parks, just like regular people. It's not like they sit on the sofa, swapping spit when other people are in the room. Just good people. Who happen to love each other. And if one of 'em was a guy, nobody'd think anything of it."