Kissing Booth

"Kayla, I understand. I do. But please remember I lost someone, too. It wasn't my husband, but I did lose a child."

"I'm sorry, Marie. I didn't mean to come across that way. It's just that I...I really can't see myself...kissing people. Or kissing anyone for that matter. Not even for MADD."

"I'm not going to pressure you. I'll just remind you of what you already know. Fundraisers let us increase awareness, but we can't raise funds if we don't have ways to get people to donate money. And while a kissing booth isn't exactly..."

"It's disgusting," Kayla told her friend and fellow member of Mothers Against Drunk Driving.

Kayla McKinley joined the organization six months after a drunk driver took the life of her husband and their unborn child. She was only four months pregnant, but she and her husband had already picked out names and never thought of it as just a fetus. It was their baby, and they were going to learn the sex of their child in a few more days. Early on, both of the felt confident they didn't want to know, but as time went by curiosity got the best of them, and knowing became preferable to guessing.

When she woke up in the hospital several hours after the crash, the only thing she remembered from the accident was a bright light and her husband yelling something just before the moment of impact. She had no idea what he said, but she did, however, remember his right arm moving and his hand covering her stomach in a vain, last-second attempt to save their baby's life.

But the force of the crash caused her to hemorrhage, and while she was unconscious, the baby boy she would never know was swept from her body and her life along with the only man she'd ever loved.

For the first month grief consumed her. Kayla was so overwhelmed by it that she often wanted to die, too. And while she continued to grieve for several more months, she slowly moved from feelings of hopelessness and helplessness to anger. As the anger raged inside of her she remembered hearing how that particular emotion was a part of the grieving and recovery process. But for Kayla, it was more than that. It was a driving force in her life and became the only way she knew how to avoid feeling helpless or that life was no longer worth living.

She knew there was an organization called Mothers Against Drunk Driving, but she didn't know whether or not there was a local chapter in her home city of Omaha, Nebraska. But after a particularly bad day when her rage seethed to the point that she worried she might do something terrible, she saw a billboard on her way to work the following morning. She'd taken a different route because of road construction, and was sitting at a red light just waiting for it to turn green when she noticed it—a sign that seemed to be...a sign.

"Lost a loved one to a drunk driver? Get MADD."

Below the caption were some grim statistics.

300,000 incidents a day

10,265 deaths a year

290,000 injuries per year

The toll-free number and the website were just below the message, and she made a mental note to check into it as soon as she got home. That evening she went online and started reading testimonials of MADD members who'd experienced what she had, and in many cases, worse.

She cried when she read the one that pushed over the edge involving a female Air Force lieutenant colonel from nearby Offutt Air Force Base who was driving the speed limit on the interstate when a drunk driver struck her from behind doing well over 100mph.

At first, their stories fueled her anger. But as she continued reading, especially that one story, Kayla found herself crying uncontrollably. And after crying until she couldn't cry anymore, she found strength; strength hidden deep inside of her. A strength that moved her to action.

She signed up online to join even though she wasn't quite sure what that meant. She did know she'd receive a monthly newsletter, but that was available online and not actually 'received'. She would also have online access to other members with whom she could share her own story. But after just two weeks of being a silent member, she sought out the nearest chapter that held meetings and told herself she would be at every group function for as long as she felt it was helping.

That had been nearly 18 months ago, and she was now an outspoken member of the group. But being outspoken didn't mean rude or an in-your-face kind of activist. She'd slowly learned to put her anger aside and focused instead on public speaking and encouraging people to never drink and drive.

On the surface, that seemed to run counter to her Libertarian political beliefs, and yet Libertarians were for individual freedoms up and until someone's freedom impacted someone else's right to live free of harm—as in the case of drinking alcohol and getting behind the wheel while impaired.

Drink all you like as long as you know the risks. Just do so responsibly. And never, ever get behind the wheel after you drink. Do that and we have no problem.

Besides, Kayla wasn't the fire and brimstone type. She was kind, thoughtful, and very open about her own loss. And it didn't hurt that Kayla McKinley, even at 36, was still dazzlingly attractive.

As far as that went, Kayla took her looks in stride. But if they helped get or keep the attention of a 16-year old boy who'd just started driving while she spoke at his high school, she was happy to use them to her advantage. She believed that a smile directed at a youthful admirer was preferable to trying to guilt someone into being responsible. For her, it the was the epitome of the old saw about vinegar vs honey.

Her late husband, Steven McKinley, had made her feel beautiful, as well as so many other things, and he often told her how lucky he was to have as his wife. They'd married when she was 28, and after five years together they were both ready to start a family. It didn't take long for Kayla to conceive, and she and her husband were beyond thrilled to know they were going to have a baby. Everything in their lives was coming together and seemed perfect until that fateful night.

But all that was in her past. Her life now was work, taking care of herself through diet and exercise, and representing MADD any time she could. She had no idea whether or not her volunteer efforts had saved even one life, but if they had, it was worth far more than a few hours of her time. And for her personally, it was a godsend in that it had allowed her let go of the anger and channel her energy into something productive.

"Kayla, you know I'm willing to do almost anything to raise money for the cause. We all have our gifts. Mine is writing, and I use it to the best of my ability, especially in our local newsletter. Your gift is public speaking and let's be honest, you're beautiful. So you have to know that with the way you look, we could bring in tons of money for our local chapter. I mean, if I looked like you, I'd set a goal of making a thousand dollars all by myself at the booth."

Kayla laughed at that, and laughing wasn't something she did a lot of, even now. But that made her chuckle and the chuckling made her feel good.

"Let's see. At $5 a kiss, that would be..."

She wasn't actually doing the math, but she pretended to be counting on her fingers then said, "A LOT of kisses."

"Hey, I'd give a little tongue for ten bucks a pop," Marie said, causing them both to laugh a little more.

"Okay, okay. I'm in. Heaven knows you're right. But kissing strange men? It...it kind of gives me the willies."

"Cmon. You just close your eyes, pucker up but keep your lips closed, make contact, and collect the five dollars. Easy peasy."

"Easy peasy. Right," Kayla said with a little shake of her head.

"Okay, if that doesn't work try imagining your favorite actor or athlete."

Kayla lowered her head a bit and looked at Marie who said, "I'm just trying to help."

Kayla sighed then agreed she'd be in the kissing booth that weekend.

"Yay! We are going to make SO much money!" Marie said, happy to know she'd have a good friend there with her for support, and Marie Schultz had turned out to be the best friend she'd had since high school.

Marie's husband left her about four months after the loss of their daughter who was also killed by a drunk driver. Both of them had been devastated, but Marie had been so mentally crushed that she found it impossible to be available for her husband. That, in turn, only made her feel worse, and she began eating to find comfort making her and her situation just one of hundreds of thousands of similar tragic tales. Or rather...truths.

To her credit Marie was now out walking every morning, and on the weekends they got together and walked. And talked. And laughed and cried, sometimes doing all of it during one outing.

So while Kayla had some serious reservations about this kissing booth thing, she knew her friend would be there with her even if she wasn't going to be one of the women making their lips available to strange men.

Kayla's final thought on the matter was, "Wait. What if a woman wants to kiss me?" which made her laugh one more time before she said goodbye to her BFF.

*****

Same day. Across town at fire Station #21 on Ames Avenue.

"Let's go people. We've got a ton of work to get done, and with Lenny out sick, that means we all need to pull our weight and his, too. But before we turn to, the battalion chief wants a word."

The lieutenant in charge of the Gold Shift, station talk for the day shift, turned the floor over to his boss.

"All right, gentlemen. And lady," the 45-year old man said, acknowledging the only female member of the team.

"It's that time of year again. The State Fair begins on the 27th and runs through September 6th. As usual, we are going to have a booth, and that means we need volunteers."

There were a couple of loud groans that brought a sharp look from the lieutenant.

"I'll leave it up to your lieutenant to decide who's going to volunteer..."

The chief waited for a laugh but settled for a smile or two then told them to stay safe and went back to doing whatever it was battalion chiefs do.

Once he was gone, the lieutenant said, "If you wanna do this, see me anytime today."

He paused then said, "But one way or the other, I'm gonna have two names."

He, too, walked away leaving the Gold Shift to get down to business.

By lunchtime they'd gotten well over half of what they needed done taken care of, and as they sat down for lunch, the only woman on the team, Kathy Sampson, asked if anyone was planning on volunteering.

She got a series of looks and head shakes along with a grunt that answered her question, and being a rookie, she didn't bother asking why.

"It's more of a pain in the ass than anything else, Kathy," the man across the table from her said.

She'd noticed him the first day she arrived and had been trying to get his attention ever since. His name was Brad Taylor, and he'd been with the station for almost four years. He was not only very attractive from the neck up but had one of those bodies that appeared in calendars of firemen. Only the City of Omaha firefighters didn't do calendars.

But if they ever did, Kathy could easily see Brad's unbelievable body on the front cover. In fact, although she'd never admit it to anyone, she'd given a new vibrator an incredible workout many times while imagining him in her bed. Or his car or anywhere else for that matter.

"It just seems like a great opportunity to, you know, increase awareness and all that."

She was only talking to Brad, but the other team members heard her and that brought on more head shaking and muttered comments like, "Rookies."

Brad laughed then said, "I'm gonna take some heat for it, but I'm thinking about throwing my name in the hat."

Not being a rookie, his fellow team members found other ways to express their opinion with words like, "Kiss ass," or even more to the point, "Dumb ass."

"Well, if you volunteer, I'll go, too!" Kathy said a little too cheerfully for the other men's liking.

This time they limited their expressions of disdain to some more head shaking as one guy said, "At least we don't have to worry about being volunteered."

Throughout the course of the day Kathy took every available opportunity to ask Brad questions about the fair.

"So what all do we bring?" was her first.

Each and every time Brad answered her and never once made her feel like a dumb rookie. He remembered quite well what it was like, and while it wasn't brutal or anything even close, it wore on him, and he made a point of never treating anyone else like that.

"So I guess we'll meet up here then and take one of the engines and the equipment?" was her next question.

"Right. The lieutenant will tell us which one. All we'll need to do is throw on a few extra things then go set up. Obviously that means putting everything away each day, too, because things have a way of walking away if they're not locked up."

After the fifth or sixth question Kathy said, "I really appreciate how you're always so thoughtful and...nice. To me."

The way she looked at him told Brad she was interested, and while Kathy was a cutie, he found it impossible to see her as a romantic interest. She was 20 years old while Brad was 24.

It wasn't age as Brad preferred college co-eds from 18-22, and with the University of Nebraska just a few miles away, there was no shortage of hot Cornhusker women to choose from. Avoiding them after a hookup often proved more difficult, but so far, he'd never had to get a restraining order, a thought that made him both laugh and shiver. So while Kathy was in his preferred age range, she was a co-worker and seemed a little too clingy for his liking.

Even so, he was always polite and professional with her, so in response to her comment he said, "Yeah, sure. You're a member of the team, and team members look out for each other, right?"

He said it with a smile that made her heart hurt. Metaphorically, of course.

"Right. And Brad? If you ever want to, you know, get together and discuss it a little more, you'd be welcome to stop by. Anytime."

"Thanks, Kat. You're the best," he told her as he gave her a congenial slap on the upper arm before going back to moving around some heavy hoses.

"Yeah. That's me," she said too quietly for him to hear, once again feeling like she'd shot and missed wildly. "The best. Just not good enough to catch the attention of a guy like you."

Across town, Kayla was getting ready to take care of her last customer of the day. She'd been a hair stylist at the same salon since graduating from the University of Nebraska some 14 years earlier. She'd grown up in a small town in North Dakota, and while she tried to get home once or twice a year, she'd ended up loving Omaha so much she never left.

She'd started styling hair her sophomore year as a part-time gig to make some extra money. But like Omaha, she fell in love with the job, and even after graduating she never wanted to do anything else. The money was more than enough for her to get by on, and after getting married, they saved everything she made and lived off what her husband earned.

Now, however, because of the hefty mortgage, she'd burned through nearly half of what they'd put away, and in another year or so, she'd have to sell the house and move back into an apartment or a smaller house. Then again it made sense because she didn't need 2,300 square feet of room for just herself. But on the other hand, she hated the thought of leaving the home she and Steven had bought together and where they'd lived and loved.

For now, she put those thoughts out of her mind and focused on the 'cut & color' package the very well-off co-ed in her chair wanted. It was almost always easy to spot the girls with money, and this was one of those times.

The girl was maybe 19, beautiful, perky, and self-confident to the point of annoying. But she tipped well, so Kayla endured the nonstop chatter about the girl's endless string of cute boys. And just as she hoped, there was a very nice $35 add-on included in the credit card receipt, so putting up with a little bit of narcissism wasn't all that much of an annoyance.

As the girl took the receipt she asked Kayla if she was going to the State Fair.

"Yes," came the reply with no hint of enthusiasm.

"That didn't sound very positive," the bubbly co-ed said.

"Oh, right. Sorry. My organization is sponsoring a kissing booth. And somehow I let myself get roped into doing it. So...ugh!

"Oh, okay. Well, don't despair! I can see how, you know, older guys might be, you know, willing to do that with you."

The newly-coiffed co-ed who'd just started her sophomore year wasn't trying to be mean. In fact, she had no idea how the comment sounded and meant it as a compliment. More importantly, she was only being honest as far as she saw things.

Kayla understood that and took no offense, but after laughing politely and thanking the younger woman, she took a closeup look at herself in one of the many mirrors and suddenly felt...old.

It wasn't because there were heavy wrinkles or anything more than some fine lines around the corners of her eyes, it was just an acknowledgement that the ravages of time spared no one. She knew that age and beauty were relative to the person looking and doing the assessing, and while she knew she was still attractive, she ended up saying out loud, "Attractive. Right. For my age."

Deep down she feared losing her beauty, something that was inevitable. She just kept hoping against hope that it would last for many more years.

And with that she cleaned up the mess then closed up the shop and headed back home to the big, quiet, lonely house to face yet another evening and night spent with herself and two cats.

August 27th. State fairgrounds.

"Omaha fire department. Lemme see here," the event coordinator said as she scanned her list. "Oh, right. You're about 100 feet down this walkway and you'll be on the righthand side."

Brad smiled, nodded in understanding, then turned to leave when the woman touched his arm.

"If you have any questions or...need anything...please don't hesitate to ask."

The smile that accompanied the touch was so familiar that it didn't even phase him. He only thanked her and headed out.

But Kathy, who was stuck to him like glue, noticed and gave the other woman a nasty look.

"She wasn't very subtle, was she?" the rookie firefighter said as they looked for their spot.

"What's that?"

"The woman. With the clipboard. Okay, it was a tablet, but still..."

"Oh. Yeah, she was very helpful, huh?"

Not sure if he was just clueless or something else, Kathy just shook her head.

"The weather is amazing, isn't it? If we had a beach to go to, this would be the time to hang out there, huh?" she said, hoping to find a way to get a conversation started.

"Yeah. August is always fantastic. But it won't be long until winter," Brad mindlessly replied.

"True, but that just means you can cozy up by the fireplace with that special someone, right?"

When Brad not only didn't respond but instead pointed to their booth and said they'd arrived, Kathy again felt like she was hopelessly out of his league.

"Right. Here we are," she said with no small amount of contempt, knowing he didn't hear that, either.

"Why don't you unfurl the banner and I'll go back and pick up some of our gear. Sound okay?"

Whether it did or didn't, Kathy was a rookie and knew she'd do whatever he said. But because he was talking to her it was at least another chance to make eye contact and show her support.

"Sounds perfect, Brad! I'll get right on it."

As she watched him walk away she felt like she was still back in high school, always crushing on the wrong guy when there were so many other boys who'd be happy to go out with her. But just like high school she felt powerless to control her wants and desires and rededicated herself to pursuing the holy grail known as Brad Taylor.