Kimber Read Online Free

calls out as my friends form a hugging circle around
me.
    Together
we stand as Luke speaks. “Today Kimber isn’t the only one who says goodbye to a
family member. Marie may not have been blood but she was as much of a mother to
us as she was to Kimber. We will always think of her and miss her dearly. Today
we gather around as a family to show our love and support for Kimber.” To
lighten the heavy sadness in his speech Luke ends with, “Kimber on three!”
    “One!
Two! Three! Kimber!” Everyone yells out.
    We
all laugh but it’s short lived. Together we all head toward the large gathering
of mourners and news crews. My friends surround me and keep me safe from the
reach of microphones labeled with the logos of their news channel.
    Walking
through the mob of reporters is not as difficult as having to listen to them
scream questions at me over one another. Not to mention the dizzying strobe
light effect of their flashing cameras.  
    “Kimber!
Fox News! Can we get a statement?”
    “Kimber!
Channel Eight News! Any new leads in the case of your mother’s death?”
                “Kimber!
Channel Four Reports! Do you feel the SPPD (Saint Petersburg Police Department)
could have done more in your mother’s case?”
    “She
has no comment!” Luke and Tommy call out as we ascend the steps of Wood Lawn
Memorial. 
    I
notice upon entering a small white stand at the end of the entrance hallway. A
book that requested friends and family to sign in sits on top next to a pile of
prayer cards with my mother’s name, date of birth and date deceased on them. I
reach down and grab the black pen with a large black feather sticking out of
the end. I am the first and the only one to sign under the family side of the
book. My hand does not stop from shaking as I try to make my name legible. I
pass the pen off to Luke.
    I
walk over to a small table covered in pictures I had lent the funeral home. I
trace the framed picture of my mother on her graduation day from law school. I
have seen this picture a trillion times before but its significance is so much
greater now. My mother, with her incandescent smile, completely oblivious of
how it all would be taken in such a short amount of time. I slump my shoulders,
take my head in my hands and comb my fingers through my hair.
     “You’ll
be ok. Maybe not now but soon and tomorrow, it’ll hurt a little less.” Luke
whispers to me. I don’t believe in his words but they are all he has. I turn
into his arms that offer safe seclusion while the grief overwhelms me.
Physically my body aches and breathing becomes a luxury I cannot afford.
Silently I scream into Luke’s chest. He fastens his arms tighter around me.
      Finally
the sobs escape me, rushing up from my lungs, flying past my tongue. “No— let—let
it—be a dream.” I hiccup like a five year old having a fit taking in gasps of
air unwillingly. I moan from the pain in the empty space my heart once filled.
    I
have all but forgotten that Luke and I are not alone when a hand from behind me
begins stroking my hair.
    “Kimber?”
    “Robin,
give us a minute.” Luke’s tone boarders being annoyed.  
    “I
know, I’m sorry Luke. I’m not trying to rush. It’s just that, well, Kimber
there’s a man in the viewing room asking for you. He says he’s your father.”
    My
father and I were once thick as thieves. I was daddy’s little tomboy princess.
We did it all together, from fishing to football. I never cared to wear the
frilly dresses or pink lace skirts my mother would buy for me. I always opted
for jean shorts and a sport related shirt. Eventually my mother started buying
me pink jerseys.
     I
was nine when my father pulled the rug from under my mother’s feet. My father
had been the junior editor at our local newspaper. When his normal nine to five
became nine to ten, my mother suspected he was having an affair with his
secretary. She never confronted him on the matter. Maybe she didn’t want to
believe it.