A Pair Of Shoes


kimberlynn_icon.gif wade_icon.gif

Scene Title A Pair Of Shoes
Synopsis Wade purposely stumbles into Kimberlynn.
Date May 18, 2009

Local Bookstore

It's a Monday night, and Kimberlynn has just finished with the kids for the day. She's had her dinner and is winding down for the evening with a trip to the bookstore. Not to buy books, though. She's got her laptop with her, and she's going to spend some time online. She'd shop, but she has too little room for all her things as it is. So instead, she looks at apartment listings, dreaming that her money will tide her over until she makes it big as a writer. Who knows? It might. She has that story recorded, and she's rather proud of it. Kind of fairy-tale-like, and definitely interesting. Maybe it will work.
After looking over apartment listings for a while, she begins looking for something else. Literary agents. She emails a few who specialize in teen novels and children's books. Mostly, she's hoping to run into a mysterious friend, so she's taking her time doing what she's doing. Stalling, waiting, hoping. It finally does come to a point when she figures she's waiting long enough and she'll never run into him again. She begins packing up her laptop bag to leave. It's almost curfew time, anyway.

And there she is. Wade hasn't seen her last since he was Mallory. And really, it might be better for him to try fresh with her. If he lets her know he's Robin Hood, then she's going to ask where the body came from. Then it's going to get messy.
So, he opens the door — for some reason curfew never occured to him about being a problem. There is still some time left and if all goes well, he could offer to drive her home.
So, he kinda has the idea that she's empathic, so he walks up to the counter and orders something warm to drink and turns around while it's being made and looks over at her. He starts to think to himself that she's cute and admire her from afar. Maybe she'll pick up on that and look his way.

Kimberlynn is, in fact, kind of empathic, but her powers are only "on" now and then. And that doesn't happen to be /now/ now. So she doesn't pick up on the feelings and admiration, but she does notice she's being watched. She looks up curiously, and offers a warm, bright smile, and goes back to packing up. The store is closing in about an hour, and she has about that long to get home. Plenty of time.
She's going to be walking home, and she thinks it's going to be a little on the cool side. So she goes over to the counter, to get a cup of coffee to go. It'll keep her warmer than without. And there's that guy standing there, watching her. She offers him another friendly smile, and says, "Hey."

"Hey there." he returns her smile. Wade reaches into his pocket and slides over another five to pay for her coffee. "Here, let me." he insists. Wade is just coming from work at the ad agency, something he's had to pick up quickly having zero experience as Reed. However, it all just seemed to come naturally to him. He has to wonder what else Wade did that might come naturally. He's dressed in slacks and a nice dress shirt, white with thin burgundy vertical stripes. As he reaches for her coffee to hand it to her, his 'accidently' slips out of his hand and splatters on the floor, splash warm liquid onto both of their ankles. "Oh! Shoot." he mutters and sets her drink down and begins pulling napkins from the dispenser. "I'm really really sorry about that." he apologizes as he bends down to begin wiping coffee off of her.

Kimberlynn dances backwards a little bit as hot coffee splashes up to her ankles and over her old shoes. "Oh!" she exclaims. And then she laughs as, with napkins, the cute guy starts wiping at her feet. "No, it's okay," she insists. "Don't worry about it. They're old shoes. I need new ones, anyway." It's true, she does. Part of the sole is coming off one shoe. "Really, it's more important that no one slip in the puddle…" She leans over the counter and with a few words, summons a barrista, and asks for a mop. It's clear she intends to clean it up herself, especially when she says to the barrista, "Don't worry, it's just a small spill. I'll clean it up myself." This in response to the look of disgust from the server at the spilled coffee, and her surety that she'll be cleaning up a mess.

Changing his focus from their shoes to the puddle, he helps in getting it all cleaned up before tossing the soggy napkins into the waste bin. "It'll have to be mopped." Wade makes a face at the girl behind the counter. He reaches into his pocket for another fiver and pushes it across the counter. "Sorry to ask, but can I have another? I'll pay for it since I was the one who dropped it."
Wade turns towards Kim and makes a face. "Well, let me buy you a new pair of shoes. There's a place right across the street. And before you say now out of some form of humility, I'm going to /have/ to insist. Have to. So, that means you're not allowed to say now without offending me on a grand scale!"
A new coffee joins the other one on the counter as Wade picks them both up and offers hers to her.

Guys have bought her things before. Well, two guys. In the past. She's not sure she's comfortable with having someone buy something for her when she doesn't even know his name. "Well. I guess I can't offend you on a grand scale, then, can I? So, ah, how about tellin' me your name first?" She takes the coffee, which is really okay to accept from a guy you don't know. "Thanks for the coffee…" She keeps her eyes on the friendly man, more than a little curious about him. Her voice is a soft drawl, her words lengthened, and yet her gerund endings have the "G" cut off.

There is a slight blush that comes to Wade's cheek as he reaches his hand over to her. "Oh, sorry. I can be a bit of a lamebrain when I'm spilling coffee all over an attractive woman." He grins. "Wade. Wade Quinn. There are those who call me Wade and those who call me Quinn. It's the curse of being stuck with two first names. And you are?"

She blushes in response to his, hers a little more extensive on her face. "I think we all become lamebrains when spillin' coffee on someone. "I'm Kimberlynn. Ah, Kimberlynn Savage. No middle name, and don't call me Kim." She grins a little, and the barrista rolls her eyes. Kimber notices, but doesn't react. "I'll call you Mr. Quinn for now. But really, I can buy my own shoes…It's okay. I was gonna get some tomorrow," she fibs, though she doesn't figure it'll go over well.

Wade grins at Kimber and nods. "Noted. Kimberlynn it is. And please don't call me Mr. I'm not that old yet." he reassures her. "But shoes, it's important. And I did insist. Then, I will leave you to the rest of your evening. It's just right across the street." He walks over to the door and opens it. Looks like he's not going to take 'no' for an answer. Across the street a retail shoes store still has it's 'OPEN' sign lit up.

There seems to be nothing to do but go along. So Kimber does, with a smile. "Okay. Quinn. But if you think you can get away with just buying me shoes and going on your merry way, that's …that's just not right! You could at least let me make you dinner. But not at my place, at yours. My place is a pit." She goes through the door and waits until he's beside her before she crosses the street, with him. She smiles a little, making sure no cars are going to hit them, and once on the other side, she waits at the door of the shoe store. "Really, you don't have to do this. I'll be okay," she insists, laughing, looking into Quinn's face, trying to will her empathic powers into effect. It doesn't work.

Wade considers for a moment. "I will let you cook me dinner. At my place." He slips his hand inside his pocket and pulls out a business card. He scribbles his personal cell phone and his home address on the back and hands it over to her. "If that's what it takes to allow me to buy you a pair of shoes, I am certain I will suffer through it." he teases her, then opens the door to the store. "After you then."

Kimberlynn accepts the card and slips it into a pocket, zipping it back closed so the card does not become lost. She enters the shoe store, and and looks down its aisles. A clerk approaches and offers help, and Kimberlynn requests athletic shoes. The clerk asks the two to follow her, and Kimberlynn does, after a sideways glance at Wade. She makes conversation with him, her tone light and playful. "Actually, maybe I'll start calling you Wade. And don't make fun, I'm a pretty good cook! I wouldn't call myself a chef, but if you want something…homemade and tasty, and good for you, I'm your girl."
The clerk stops at a section of athletic shoes, and after an educated glance at Kimber's feet, begins pulling out shoe boxes in her size.

She's his girl. She said that. Of course, maybe not the way he took it, but emotionally, there's still a seventeen year old boy inside this 22 year old body. He leans against the wall as he watches them try on shoes. Really, Wade makes a pretty penny writing ads, so he's not concerned about the price, though this is not really a high-brow place to shop — the shoes seem sturdy enough. "Well, I will look forward to trying out your home cooking, Kimberlynn." he grins over to her charmingly. "And calling me Wade is perfect."

Trying out the fit of several pairs, she walks around in them, before discarding pair after pair. Kimberlynn gives Wade a chagrined smile. "You've gone shoe-shoppin' with a girl. It's gonna take a little while. Of course, I suppose anybody's gonna want to have athletic shoes that fit…" She tries on another pair, makes a face before even taking a step, and kicks them off. She frowns and asks, "What time is it?" as she realizes that she's pushing curfew, and closing time. But magically, the next pair of shoes she tries on is the right pair. She tips her head to the side, walking around in them, waiting for them to feel wrong, but they don't. She smiles her thanks to the clerk, and takes the box, puts in her old shoes. "If you don't mind, I'd like to wear these…They're more comfortable without coffee." She grins.

"Is there somewhere you need to be?" he asks as he reads off the time from his watch. "I didn't realize you were on some sort of schedule. Can I give you a ride somewhere?" Wade slides over his credit card to pay for the purchase.

"Well, there's curfew!" It figures no one else cares that much about curfew. Kimberlynn is still testing out her new shoes, rising up on tiptoe, stretching them out, stepping around. "Actually, I guess a ride wouldn't be so bad. You have a car, or would this be a taxi?" She's all energy and spring, with her laptop bag over her shoulder.

Well, as Reed, Wade never did get around to getting his driver's license. Though Wade does have one car, he's not going to take the chance of messing it up before he learns to drive. "Oh, there's not alot of places to park down here, so I will grab us a cab."
He grins as he watches her testing out those shoes as the clerk rings up the purchase, runs the card and gives him his receipt. "You can just toss those shoes if you like." It's more of a suggest — high recommendation that she dump those shoes. They really aren't worth wearing anymore.

Kimberlynn has never driven in the city, so it doesn't seem like a big deal to her that so many people take cabs, even if they have their own cars. She doesn't complain about the suggestion to throw the shoes out. "Hm, I guess the garbage is going out, anyway. Yeah, miss, if you don't mind, I'll just leave these old ones with you. For the trash. I'd donate them to Goodwill, but I don't think they're reparable. Thanks…" She smiles a little, and turns to her benefactor. "Okay, cab ride it is." She's a little embarrassed at the idea of having someone so obviously upper class see where she lives, but she's looking for something new. She'll find something new.

Wade holds the door open for Kimberlynn, allowing her to exit the building first, before turning to offer thanks to the clerk. He then flags down a cab, who pulls over. Opening the door to let her in first, he slides in and waits for her to offer the address where they need to go.

"Thanks for accepting the shoes. It was the least I could do after ruining them." Wade offers her a smile. "Just give me a call when you're free and I'll take you up on the dinner offer." If Wade wasn't so nervous, he'd be patting himself on the back for not blowing this yet. "What is it you do, Kimberlynn?"

"I don't think I had much choice in accepting those shoes… You made it sound like I'd be doing you a disservice if I didn't! As for work, I do daycare…where I live. Well, not at MY place, it's not very kid-friendly. But in the…neighborhood. At a neighbor's house." Wow, could she sound any more lame? She smiles, looking down, then turns her gaze over to Wade. "What about you? What is it you do, Wade?"

Wade seems a little impressed. He's not certain he could spend his time around a lot of children, being an only child. He smiles. "Well, there's nothing wrong with that. Sounds you are a very giving person."
Wade glances ahead for a moment to see where they might be heading. He'll want to remember at least where they're going. "I work for an ad agency coming up with advertising promotions." He explains. "It's not too bad a job and lets me be creative."

The cab is headed to East Harlem, and Kimberlynn has decided to accept the fact that this guy is going to see where she lives. Well, it can't be /that/ bad. The worst that could happen is he could decide to never speak to her again. Okay, that could be pretty bad. Well, she'll face whatever happens. "Creativity is important, really. I have some creative outlets. My favorite is sewing." She's not yet ready to admit that she's a budding writer. She smiles over at Wade again, and wishes she'd looked at his card before putting it away. She asks, "So have you done any famous ad campaigns? Although, I guess I wouldn't know, as I don't have a television…Ooh, unless your ads are on billboards, or somewhere else!"

Wade grins. "Well, I have to admit. That shoe place we were just in. I did their latest campaign. It's been pretty successful." he shrugs. "It's nothing special really. It's not like I write novels or movies or anything like that. Simple stuff really, but it has to get the attention of those who may use those services. It pays well, at least."

Kimberlynn is glad to hear it pays well. "That's good, then. Especially when you go around buyin' strange women shoes." She grins over at him with a playful expression. "I think if ya wrote novels or movies…you'd be poor. There's only a small percentage of people who are successful at that, did ya know? It's not easy to make it bit in that industry. Those industries, I guess, huh?" Still not willing to admit she wants to be a writer.
The cab drives through crooked lanes and back roads, and finally turns into a trailer park. The Thomas Jefferson Project, in fact. Kimberlynn looks down. "Well, ah, I guess there's no hiding my life now ya know where I live. I was, um, made homeless with the bomb, and I haven't gotten out of here since. I probably could, if I wanted, but…I'm needed here. For now. I expect I'll be leaving someday."

Wade slides from the taxi as it comes to a stop and walks over and opens the door for her. "You've nothing to be ashamed of, Kimberlynn. Seriously, a home is a home. If you want to move, you will. It's not where you live, it's how you live, isn't that what they say?" Whoever they is. It could be one of his own marketing campaigns for all he knows. "Let me at least walk you to the door."

She looks down as she gets out of the cab. "Yeah. That's what they say…" She gets her keys out of her pocket and walks to the door of a tiny trailer, its steps nothing but cinder blocks. "Well, this is it…my humble home. Thanks again, Wade. I really appreciate it. You're too kind for words. You'll have to let me know what you'll eat, or if there's anything ya can't eat… She smiles and sticks out her hand to her new friend…to the guy she hopes she'll know for a long time, and not just because he bought her shoes. He's nice, and there's something…familiar about him, though she can't at all place why. "I'll call ya in a couple days, hm? We'll set things up." The ball is in her court now, because she hasn't given out her cell phone number, and she really doesn't think she can be found online…It's true, he knows where she lives, but she doesn't think she'd see him again if she doesn't call. She's going to call. "Thanks." She unlocks her door and opens it a crack. "I'll be seein' ya."

He doesn't move to do more than reach for her hand, enveloping it with his as he shakes it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Kimberlynn. I am looking forward to that dinner, so please, do call me." He does know where she lives — he knows alot more than that actually. His handshake lingers for a moment before he lets it go reluctantly. "Sleep well, when you do." He smiles to her, waiting long enough for her to slip inside, lock the door before he turns and gets back into the cab, giving the driver the address to his residence.

Kimberlynn squeezes back, and realizing that he's waiting for her to go inside, she slips in. If anything were motivation to improve her situation, this is. She peeks through the curtains at the window beside the door, and watches the cab drive away. An interesting night, indeed. A lot of new things for her to think about in her tiny convertible bed…including what to fix for dinner.

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