Elevator Girl's Love Grown Cold, Part 3

Dakota found the clothes.  The cut seemed strange, and he didn't recognize the fabric, but he took off what he'd been wearing -- apparently for a quarter-century -- and put on the new apparel.  There weren't any shoes, just socks.

As he exited the room, Dakota hit his left little toe on the doorframe.  It hurt badly enough he almost yelped, until he remembered there were others in the house who might be sleeping at this hour.  He winced.  At least he knew he wasn't dreaming, but he'd rather this nightmare was a dream.

Making his way down the steep old stairs, Dakota walked back to the kitchen.  The house had been remodeled since he was here last, and the kitchen looked substantially changed from what he remembered.  The counters and appliances all were replaced, and were configured differently.  Yet, at the same time, there was a familiarity about it.

Dakota paused when he saw Kellie, puttering away making breakfast.  On one hand, she looked so much like Gemma had when he had seen her preparing a meal in this kitchen; on the other hand, this was undeniably Kellie, who looked so much better for this age than Gemma had.

Dakota couldn't resist.  "Are you sure you're 40?" he asked.

Kellie turned toward him, unconsciously pulling her long blonde hair back over her ear.  "Oh, hi, again," she said.  "Yeah, I'm all of 40, and closing in on 41."

Dakota shook his head.  "You really do look more like late 20s, Kel."

Kellie blushed.  "Thanks," she said.  "The workouts for superheroing keep me in shape -- and so does trying to look good in those costumes.  When you're a kid, you don't appreciate how hard it is to look good in either tights or one of those leather outfits."

Dakota chuckled.  Kellie gestured for him to sit down as she lifted the breakfast.  "I'm afraid I broke the yolks on the eggs," she said.  "I guess I was a little jittery.  I wound up having to scramble them."

"That's fine," Dakota said.  "I do that a lot."

Kellie placed a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage links in front of Dakota, along with a glass of orange juice.  Silverware and a napkin already were there.

Dakota started to wolf down the food, then realized Kellie was just sitting there, staring at him.  He smiled.  He couldn't help but stare back.  She was clearly older than what he remembered as being the day before, but really didn't look 40 to him.  Up close he could see some hints of the tiniest of lines, but they were few and far between.

"God, I've missed you, Kota," Kellie said.

Dakota took her hand, and was a little surprised that it felt like the hand of a woman entering middle age.  "I think my missing you is just getting ready to start," he said, his voice cracking slightly with emotion.

Kellie bit her lip, then stood up and went to a drawer in one of the cabinets.  She pulled out what looked to Dakota like six tablet computers.  "I've been compiling these for you, to help you get caught up on things and give you a chance to reference any questions you have," she said, placing them on the table.  "They're memory tablets; kind of like an old photo album with digital video and audio for some files.  I wanted you to have something practical you could use."

Dakota glanced at the stack.  "This has to have been a lot of work," he said.  He looked up at Kellie.  "How long have you been working on these, Kel?"

Kellie looked slightly embarrassed.  "I started on my old computer back when I turned 16," she said.  "I've been keeping them ever since.  Originally, all the files were on one tablet, but they just kept … growing."

Dakota tilted back his head and laughed.  "That is so-o-o-o you!" he said.  "Thinking everything through, planning down to the tiniest detail …"

He stopped when he realized Kellie was smiling, with her hand over her mouth and tears streaming down her cheek.  "What's wrong?" he said.

"Nothing," Kellie said.  "It's just that … I've waited 25 years to hear that laugh again."

Dakota looked down at the stack of tablets.  "It's true, isn't it?" he said.  "It's real.  I'm 25 years out of synch with everyone and everything else … including you."

Kellie sat down next to him and put a hand on his.  "It is," she said, "but we're here for you.  Your family moved away, but they're going to get in here later today, and Mom and Stam are coming this morning, and you've got me and April, and even Gill."

"April and Gill?" he repeated.  Then the light dawned.  "Oh, your daughter and … husband," he said.

Kellie nodded.  "Look, you take whatever time you need.  Um, and, when you're ready, I promised Lakota I'd get you on the phone with her as soon as I could after you woke up.  Once you finish your breakfast, I want to keep that promise.  She'll probably be with your folks, and they'll all want in on the call."

"How are my family?" Dakota asked.

Kellie looked slightly worried as she said.  "They're fine."

"What is it, Kel?"  Dakota asked.

Kellie closed her eyes slowly, then reopened them and looked Dakota in the face.  "Kota, your dad had a stroke about eight years ago -- a big stroke.  He's as OK now as he's been since then, but he's wheelchair-bound, and it's affected his speech."

Dakota's eyes filled with tears as his lower lip trembled.  He collapsed onto Kellie's shoulder, sobbing, feeling the weight of his decades of absence more keenly now.  She shifted and enfolded him in a motherly hug, letting him let out the pain and stress.

After a few minutes, Dakota pulled back and wiped his cheeks.  "I want to talk to them as soon as I can," he said.

Kellie nodded and got her phone.  She dialed Lakota's number.  "Hey, Lakota," she said.  "He's awake.  He wants to talk to you.  Is everyone there?  Oh, OK."

Kellie handed Dakota the phone.  "Your dad's asleep," she said, "but Lakota and your mom want to talk to you.  They'll call to let you talk to your dad once he's up.  Lakota's putting it on speaker at their end."

Dakota nodded and took the phone.  Kellie left the room and went to the living room, giving Dakota as much room as possible for his call.  She stretched out on the sofa and soon fell asleep.

Dakota was on the phone for some time.  There were tears of joy from his mother and sister, and tears of stress and sadness from him.  They promised to get his dad on the phone with him as soon as he was up; he'd already gotten the news, but was beginning to become increasingly frail and needed his rest.

Once he hung up, Dakota wandered into the living room and saw Kellie, dozing.  He couldn't help feeling his love for her all over again; she looked so young sleeping there.

Alone for the moment, Dakota walked back into the kitchen and sat beside the tablets.  Kellie had put simple masking tape labels on each one.  The top tablet was labeled "National."  Below that were "Area," "World," "Family," "Greene-Ross" and "Elevator Girl/Woman."

Dakota booted up the tablet labeled "Family."  He spotted a series of icons on the desktop.  He realized that the "family" referred to was actually two families:  Kellie's and his.  He wondered a bit about that, but was overcome with curiosity when he spotted one icon in particular:  Kellie's Wedding.  He clicked on it.

The tablet booted up a video.  Kellie, clearly a woman, but a much younger woman than she was now, was looking into a webcam.  She was wearing a wedding dress.

"Kota," Kellie said, taking a deep breath,  "I'm getting married today  His name is Guillaume Trudeau, but he goes by Gill.  He's a native of Quebec, but his family moved to Ohio when he was a kid.  I met him in college.

"Kota, I need to tell you why I'm doing this," Kellie continued.  "It's not that I've stopped loving you.  I haven't.  I don't think I ever could.  But … well, it's just that … it's been eight years now, and who knows how much longer it'll be?

"At first, I hoped I'd find you quickly.  Then I hoped I'd at least find you in time that our ages would still be close to each other.  But, assuming, as I believe, that you're still alive, you're in suspended animation.  I'm out of college, and your still 15, and the gap is widening every year.  And … as much as I love you, I can't just put my life on hold in hopes that I'll find you when I don't even know when …"  Kellie's eyes moistened as she said faintly, "or if I will find you.

"Kota, I didn't date anyone in high school after you.  I couldn't.  I dated a few times in college when friends would set me up, but I didn't find anyone -- until my senior year, when I met Gill."

Kellie chuckled.  "The funny thing is, you know why I fell in love with him?  He reminds me of you."

Dakota chuckled at the statement.

"Oh, he looks nothing like you," Kellie said.  "But there's something about him, about the way he can look into my eyes and read everything inside me in an instant, that is so … you.  He knows about you, and what you mean to me, and he loves me anyway.  And I love him.  I didn't think I could love anybody else but you, but I love him.

"I've learned from you, Kota.  I always tell everybody I love that I love them every day, or every day I see them if I don't see them every day.  I learned from the way I dropped the ball on saying that with you that I can't assume I can wait to say it, that they need to hear it.  I know you knew I love you, but I still should have said it.  I learned that, and it's part of how I live my life now.

"I'm not giving up on you, Kota.  If you're seeing this, you already know that.  I'll look for you and at least make sure that you get some kind of life.  It's the least I can do for a guy I love."  Kellie blushed.  "But I needed to tell you why … and to hope it helps you understand.  I love you, always, Kota."

Tears were streaming down Dakota's cheeks when he heard a sniffle from behind him.  There he saw a good-looking, balding, middle-aged man wearing a suit.

"Sorry, kid," the man said.  "Didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I've never heard that one before" He extended his hand.  "I'm Gill," he said.

Dakota shook Gill's hand.  "I'm Dakota."

"I know," said Gill.  "I helped Kellie and April get you in last night.  How're you doing?"

Dakota shrugged.

Gill put a hand on Dakota's shoulder.  "It's OK," he said.  "I don't know how anybody would cope with what you're going through.  I guess Stam is coming over this morning; he's had some experience with that, so he can try to help, as much as anyone can."

Dakota nodded.  "That sounds good," he said.

"Look, I have to leave for work, but just so you know," Gill said, "as far as I'm concerned, you're always welcome here.  I don't know how much you've put together in the time you've been awake, but the Greenes and the Rosses have kind of become one family over the years you've been gone, even though there's no marriage or blood ties between us.  I know your history with Kellie may make things feel … awkward, but this place is always somewhere you can come, and everyone in this household cares what happens to you … even me."

"Thank you, sir," Dakota said.

Gill laughed.  "Dakota, according to your birth certificate, you're older than me," he said.  "Call me Gill."

"All right," Dakota said.

"Besides, from what Kellie and Lakota have said to me about you over the years, I think you'll understand what I'm about to say.  Even if I were inclined not to welcome you -- and I am inclined to welcome you, for the record -- if I ever did anything that made you feel unwelcome here, that would break Kellie's heart, and anything that would break her heart is one thing I just won't do."

Dakota could feel his lower lip twitching, but he held himself together.  "Yeah, that wouldn't do for either one of us," he said.

Gill put a hand on Dakota's shoulder.  "Take your time and find what you need to find for you.  You've got friends here, always.  I've got to go.  Take care, kid."

Gill walked over and kissed Kellie on the cheek.  "I've got to leave, Dear," he said.

"Love you," Kellie mumbled.

"I love you," Gill whispered.  He turned and waved to Dakota as he exited.

Dakota walked over to an easy chair and sagged down into it.  It was all so much to absorb, and he knew there would be more … a lot more …