on with the volume off. The images floated ghostly in some distant world. She slept alone right now, but that was a condition in constant flux. There was a time when each visitor, each prospective mate, brought hope with them to this bed, brought a this-could-be-the-one optimism that, in hindsight, Kimmy realized, bordered on the delusional.
There was no such hope anymore.
She rose slowly. The swelling on her chest from her most recent cosmetic surgery ached with the movement. It was her third procedure in the area, and she wasn't a kid anymore. She hadn't wanted to do it, but Chally, who thought he had an eye for such things, had insisted. Her tips were getting low. Her popularity was waning. So she agreed. But the skin in that area had become too stretched out from past surgical abuse. When Kimmy lay on her back, the damn things fell to the side and looked like fish eyes.
The doorbell rang again.
Kimmy looked down at her ebony legs. Thirty-five years old, never had a baby, but the varicose veins were growing like feeding worms. Too many years on her feet. Chally would want those worked on too. She was still in shape, still had a pretty great figure and terrific ass, but hey, thirty-five is not eighteen. There was some cellulite. And those veins. Like a damn relief map.
She stuck a cigarette in her mouth. The book of matches came from her current place of employment, a strip joint called the Eager Beaver. She had once been a headliner in Vegas, going by the stage name Black Magic. She did not long for those days. She did not, in truth, long for any days.
Kimmy Dale threw on a robe and opened her bedroom door. The front room had no such sun protection. The glare assaulted her. She shielded her eyes and blinked. Kimmy did not have a lot of visitors- she never tricked at home- and figured that it was probably a Jehovah's Witness. Unlike pretty much everybody else in the free world, Kimmy did not mind their periodic intrusions. She always invited the religiously rapt into her home and listened carefully, envious that they had found something, wishing she could fall for their line of bull. As with the men in her life, she hoped that this one would be different, that this one would be able to convince her and she'd be able to buy into it.
She opened the door without asking who it was.
"Are you Kimmy Dale?"
The girl at the door was young. Eighteen, twenty, something like that. Nope, not a Jehovah's Witness. Didn't have that scooped-out-brain smile. For a moment Kimmy wondered if she was one of Chally's recruits, but that wasn't it. The girl wasn't ugly or anything, but she wasn't for Chally. Chally liked flash and glitter.
"Who are you?" Kimmy asked.
"That's not important."
"Excuse me?"
The girl lowered her eyes and bit on her lower lip. Kimmy saw something distantly familiar in the gesture and felt a small ripple in her chest.
The girl said, "You knew my mother."
Kimmy fiddled with the cigarette. "I know lots of mothers."
"My mother," the girl said, "was Candace Potter."
Kimmy winced when she said that. It was north of ninety degrees, but she suddenly tightened her robe.
"Can I come in?"
Did Kimmy say yes? She couldn't say. She stepped to the side, and the girl pushed her way past.
Kimmy said, "I don't understand."
"Candace Potter was my mother. She put me up for adoption the day I was born."
Kimmy tried to keep her bearings. She closed the trailer door. "You want something to drink?"
"No, thank you."
The two women looked at each other. Kimmy crossed her arms.
"Not sure what you want here," she said.
The girl spoke as if she'd been rehearsing. "Two years ago I learned that I was adopted. I love my adopted family, so I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I have two sisters and wonderful parents. They've been very good to me. This isn't about them. It's just that... when you find out something like this, you need to know."
Kimmy nodded, though she wasn't sure why.
"So I started digging for information. It wasn't easy. But there are groups who help adopted kids find their birth parents."
Kimmy plucked the cigarette out of her mouth. Her hand was shaking. "But you know that Candi- I mean, your mother- Candace..."
"... is dead. Yes, I know. She was murdered. I found out last week."
Kimmy's legs started to feel a little rubbery. She sat. Memories rushed back