Chapter 2: Life After a Curve Ball
Kirby stepped out of the shower onto the plush, ivory rug and studied her toes. She needed a pedicure badly. Before, inventorying her grooming needs daily and taking care of those responsibilities expediently had been her way of life. Now, she relished the simplicity of a new lifestyle, where manicures, pedicures, waxing, plucking, tweezing, tanning, shopping, and hair appointments did not run her life. But it was true – she needed a pedicure. Thankfully it’s still winter and will be for several months longer, and I can hide my toes in wool socks stuffed in Ugg boots, she thought.
She moved towards the closet, tossing her towel in the hamper’s general direction, and proceeded to pull out her personal, unofficial uniform: a long sweater and leggings, a thick pair of socks, and whatever color of knee-length Uggs matched the whole ensemble. Her closet was a walk-in, though all she needed anymore was a scant three feet of clothes rod for the few outfits she rotated between. The rest of the space was a cacophony of clothes chaos – colors, patterns and textures abounded amidst an array of daywear, evening wear, summer and winter clothing, accessories, bags, shoes, something for every occasion and every season. She was pretty sure the local dry cleaner had been forced out of business when she had stopped dating Trevor, since she probably had been their biggest customer. A high profile boyfriend required a high profile wardrobe. And a high profile wardrobe required a dry cleaner that could keep up with the volume.
Kirby swept her long, dark hair into a messy bun, slid on some simple, silver hoop earrings, and grabbed her messenger bag before stepping out the door of her condo. She slammed the door behind her, cursed under her breath, and re-entered to grab her coat, scarf and gloves. I’m going to be late, she thought gloomily. At least I don’t have to scrape the windshield.
She set off at a brisk pace and walked in the direction of No Place Like Home, the hardware store where she worked. Taking care not to slip on the ice that coated the walkways after last night’s storm, she tried to move as quickly as she could. Bud, her boss, would not mind if she was a few minutes late, but being late went against her grain. And also, she did not want to risk annoying her new boss in even the slightest way.
The best part about working for Bud, beyond the fact that he was an easy going boss, was that he didn’t care who she was. If he had heard the nasty gossip about her, he didn’t let on that he had. And that was rare in a town like Breckenridge.
A lifelong resident of Breckenridge, Kirby was well aware of its good points and annoying points. On the positive side, it was a lively, pristine ski town known for its picture perfect winter slopes and its cool, wildflower-blanketed summers. Though she could not recite all the nitty gritty history of how it had been founded and how long ago it had become a jewel of the Colorado Rockies, there was one fact most residents could not escape: somewhere back in the wood pile, as the saying goes, the von Stoup family bought up every parcel of inhabitable land in the area and, over time, had sold it to the city as the needs of the community and tourists had grown. The von Stoups acted as though they owned the town though, and they made sure they had two hands – or at least nine fingers – in every single pie.
Kirby had found herself unfortunate enough to be included in a pie, or was she a black bird baked in a pie as the nursery rhyme said? Regardless, she was apparently the only girl stupid enough to find herself in the crosshairs of the von Stoup’s only son, Trevor. They had gone to high school together and he had been a charmer even back then, but still a normal guy and not arrogant at all despite his family’s wealth and prestige. They had dated all through their early twenties and when he proposed marriage, she accepted. Something snapped then, something in his head broke. Trevor changed overnight into a greedy, controlling, domineering real estate mogul, like his dad, and became more concerned with appearances than anything else. When he started hitting her, Kirby knew it was time to leave.
Finding the courage to leave an abusive relationship took a lot of strength, but that paled in comparison to what Trevor put her through next. Apparently the von Stoup family PR strategy did not include their heir losing a fiancée, and a beautiful, classy one at that, and before she knew it, Kirby had the entire family on her back. They rallied against her in defense of Trevor, even though his parents knew of how abusive and cruel he had become. When Kirby refused to come to heal and return to Trevor and instead threatened to go to the police, they delivered the final blow that ruined her life – the “Crazy Lady” Press Release, as her best friend Scarlet had come to refer to it.
Kirby had been walking out of the elementary school where she taught kids with special education needs when Scarlet had called her to tell the news. “It’s best that you hear it from me,” she had said. The news channels in the area and the newspapers had already picked up the press release written by the von Stoup PR Director which basically stated that Trevor had “regrettably” broken his engagement with former Miss Breckenridge model and teacher Kirby Hudson after it had come to light that Kirby had a drug problem, a drinking problem, an eating disorder, and had been refusing the therapy and rehabilitation they had so desperately tried to provide. “We will always love Kirby and wish her all the best. We hope she will find the peace she is seeking and the help she needs. Regrettably, Trevor has broken his engagement with Ms. Hudson so that he may resume his search for someone who is compatible with his rightful goals and aspirations as the von Stoup family heir,” the release had said.
Humiliated and depressed, Kirby was soon jobless too. The school district refused to renew her contract as a teacher, citing that she may be a risk to the students she taught. She moved home with her parents for a while to lick her wounds and regroup. A year later, they moved to Tennessee to help her sister who had given birth to triplets, and Kirby chose to stay. Regardless of how amazing a fresh start sounded at the time, there was a defiance in her that resisted running away and letting the von Stoups have the final word. More than that, Kirby loved Breckenridge and could not imagine leaving behind its snow-capped peaks and blue skies. Those were dark days though, and only a combination of stubbornness and a love of the mountains had gotten her through. And Scarlet. Scarlet had stuck by her throughout it all.
It was Scarlet who had introduced Kirby to Bud, Scarlet’s uncle. Desperate for a job and declined for even the most menial positions all over town, Kirby was realizing the full effects of jilting the von Stoup family when Scarlet offered to introduce her to Bud.
“He’s hiring a cashier, Kirby. It’s not the most glamourous job, but he’s a good guy and the hardware store will always be in business. It would be a safe, quiet place for you to work. Interested?”
“Absolutely,” Kirby had said, ready to try just about anything that was safe, legal and ethical in order to get some cash flowing again. Bud had hired her right away, and kept her working hard and paid regularly, which was all Kirby needed.
Losing her job at Bud’s hardware store for something as dumb as chronic tardiness would have been the pinnacle of stupidity, and Kirby knew it. Bud was a tough-as-nails old codger who didn’t appear to give a damn about the von Stoup family’s reach, and that was the kind of boss and employment opportunity Kirby could not count on being able to find a second time around.
I’ll probably be a gray-haired spinster still working at Bud’s hardware when they roll me out and stick me in the ground, Kirby thought gloomily as she entered the store and began her work day.
Though she appreciated her job, she would be lying if she said the trauma of the von Stoup run-in didn’t still affect her. She was taken care of financially, her meager paycheck paid her bills at least, but she was wounded still in many ways. In effect she had become a recluse – even her dowdy clothing and lack of keeping up with the high maintenance beauty rituals she had once found important where a testament to how much pain she was still in. She did not want to draw any attention to herself, did not want anyone to recognize her as the “crazy lady” who had managed to lose Breckenridge’s most eligible bachelor, and she certainly was not interested in dating. Maybe she never would be.
Kirby tied her brown, canvas apron around her waist and tidied up the workspace around the cashier’s counter, including the sloppiness left by her co-worker, Evan, who closed at night. Kirby worked 7am to 3:30pm, and was relieved by Evan who worked the evening shift and closed the store. Beyond the usual pleasantries of asking how the day went, Evan was not a chatty guy. He was your typical ski bum, skiing all day and working in the evenings to cover his meager expenses: season pass lift tickets, skis, coffee, granola bars, and rent at the no-frills hostel at the base of the slopes. Though he had spent his entire life in Breckenridge like Kirby, and they had even gone to high school together, there’s was an easy working relationship: he didn’t ask her anything, she didn’t ask him anything, and if he recognized her from the von Stoup PR drama, he didn’t mention it. She could use more people like that in her life, she always thought.
“Morning, Kirby,” came Bud’s cheerful voice from the back of the store. “You are early today. I thought the snow would’ve slowed you down a bit.”
“Oh, no, not at all. I don’t drive in, remember?”
Bud smiled a warm, gentle grin that always reminded Kirby of her grandpa. His worn overalls hung loose at his hips and long at his feet, obscuring the bowed legs that made walking look almost painful at times.
“You feeling okay today, Bud?” Kirby asked.
“Yeah, the cold snap makes my rheumatism flare up,” he said, patting his legs. “But I’m a tough old guy, and I’ll be fine. We got a new shipment coming today, care to give me a hand unloading when it arrives?”
“No problem at all, just give a shout when it arrives,” Kirby said. “I’m just going to re-do the store front display in between customers. I had an idea on how to showcase the de-icer and shovels a little more attractively, if that’s okay with you?”
Bud waved a hand at her dismissively. “You’ve got a decorative touch this store’s never seen before, and customers like what you’ve done to the place. Have at it. You’ve got my blessing! Just don’t forget to stop working sometimes. You’re young and there’s a whole world out there beyond this hardware store, you know?”
“Oh, I know,” she said. “For now, I’m content right here. Thanks again for the opportunity.” She never missed an opportunity to express her gratitude for a chance at a job. Bud had gone out on a limb for her, in essence flipping a middle finger at the von Stoup family, and she would not soon forget it.
With a “don’t mention it” grin, Bud walked back to the office and left Kirby to manage the store. On a cold stormy morning, business was likely to be slow and Kirby set about the task of rearranging some displays to pass the time.
Winter time was a slow time in the store as not many people undertook home improvement projects until the spring. With the exception of emergency items – plungers, snow shovels, de-icer, and wood stove replacement parts – Bud’s store was mostly quiet, and that was how Kirby liked it. On most days, she worked around the store sweeping and tidying shelves until 10:30 or so,then stopped for a cup of coffee. If business was slow after that, she would open a book and read behind the cashier’s counter, setting down whatever romance novel or classic literature piece she was reading if a customer came in. After a bowl of soup from the café next door at lunch time, she passed the afternoon cleaning windows and bathrooms, chatting with Bud and helping with whatever he needed, and then tidying up her workspace for Evan before she left for the day.
It was all very routine, very peaceful, and very expected. Every day was the same. Though she loved the anonymity the store gave her, there were times when she felt lonely and wished she had someone to go home to and cook for and cuddle up with to watch the snow fall, but that was probably not in her cards, she had decided. The men in Breckenridge fell into two categories – those who had lived here forever, and would therefore remember her von Stoup run-in and stay as far away from her as possible, and the tourists who came for ski weekends and holidays and were only interested in one night stands. Her chances of meeting someone outside of those two categories were virtually non-existent and that, she figured, was why books existed. Books filled the void in her life, the loneliness, and the long hours when she wasn’t working, and allowed her to live a million lifetimes through the eyes of the characters she had come to adore. She talked to her parents and her sister on Sunday, and occasionally had coffee with Scarlet. What more did a girl need?
At 3pm after finishing unloading the day’s shipment with Bud, her phone buzzed in her pocket. There was only one person who texted her, so she knew already who it was.
It’s Thursday, Scarlet’s text message said.
Yeah? So? Kirby replied, just as cryptically.
It’s Ladies Night. Dollar wings and draft beer at Peggy’s tonight. You in?
What? Are you kidding?
No. You need to get out more.
Peggy’s Roadhouse was a local’s haunt off the beaten path and Kirby was pretty sure there was some sort of magic voodoo powder in those wings, because they were highly addictive. Still, everyone knew the purpose of Ladies Night at Peggy’s or anywhere else in the USA was to bring the ladies out, which would bring the men out as well. The idea of eating wings with Scarlet while getting hit on repeatedly by men slung over pool tables was not Kirby’s idea of fun. Plus, there would not be anywhere there who did not already know her and know of her fictitious drug, alcohol and eating disorders, thanks to the von Stoups.
I’ll pass, thanks, Kirby texted back.
You say that every time I ask you out. I’m going to have to stop letting that slide. You’re turning into a hermit.
Not a hermit. I’m just hibernating. I’ll come out in the spring, like the bears. I promise.
Scarlet was right. A week didn’t pass by that Kirby didn’t turn down some invitation or another from her long-time friend. Though Scarlet was understanding, even Kirby wondered how long she could keep the world at arm’s length. It had been over a year since the von Stoup smear campaign, and did she really think she could hide from the world forever?
“You have to get back out there, Kirby,” Scarlet had said on more than one occasion. “When you hide away, you let them win. Get back out there. Get on with your life. Show them that their lies haven’t ruined your life.”
“But they have,” Kirby had replied. “They have.”
When she was honest with herself, Kirby could admit that she hid from the world not because she was afraid of meeting someone who knew the lies the von Stoups had spread about her, but because she was afraid of running into Trevor. She would not be able to look at him again without remembering all of the pain he had put her through, emotionally and physically, and she just did not feel strong enough to face him. Even a year later, he still called her from time to time, to taunt her, to tell her he missed her when he was drunk, and to tell her she was worthless when he was sober and angry. Every contact with him made her skin crawl. To see him in person when there was not the safety of only sound waves from her phone connecting them was a scenario she simply wasn’t ready for yet. And maybe she never would be.
“Good night, Bud! See you tomorrow!” Kirby called towards the back of the store. She grabbed her coat, waved to Evan, and left the hardware store. The sun would be setting soon, by 5pm for sure, as it did in the winter, and she rushed to get home by way of the market and the library before darkness set in. Maybe I should get a cat or something. A goldfish. A hamster. At least then I’d have someone waiting for me at home. As darkness nestled in around her and the cold, long winter night awaited, Kirby felt the strongest twinge of loneliness she’d had in a long, long while. As she let herself into her condo and began preparing dinner for one, she wondered if she should have taken Scarlet up on Ladies Night after all. Maybe Scarlet was right. Maybe it was time to get back out there. Maybe it was.