Traffic

Ch 40: Trace

        Kelly drove as quickly as the speed limits would allow her, sometimes faster. She followed the GPS instructions carefully so as not to make her reunion with Trace any more delayed. As she neared, however, a knot formed in her stomach. She was nervous and scared, as well as excited and heartbroken. Even through all these emotions, though, her eyes remained dry.

        When the GPS loudly stated, "You have reached your destination," Kelly slowed to a stop. She was in a suberb, houses of all shapes and kinds all around her, all with green lawns and peaked rooves. She drew in a slow breath as she read the name on a mailbox: 'Banner.'

        She was in the right place, and yet, it was all wrong.

        She turned off the car and slowly got out, walking up the long, brick walkway, to the front door. A car sat in the driveway, and a small tricycle nearby, a sprinkler, and some balls of various kinds were scattered around the small yard. She grew a lump in her throat as she neared the door, but she couldn't stop her feet from walking. She slowed to a stop right before the door. Her hand reached out, shaking as she pressed the doorbell. She could hear it echo through the open window nearby. She then heard noises from the open window.

        "Can you see who that is, Hun?! I'm giving Kel a bath!"

        "Yeah!" a man's voice called back. She heard faint footsteps, then, a man in blue jeans and a paint-stained tshirt opened the door. "Can I help you?" he asked. For the first time since she began her work, Kelly regretted ever changing her face, no matter how slight the difference.

        "Hi," she said softly, her voice cracking, "Are--are you Tyler Banner?" she asked, though she knew the answer. She just couldn't believe it was really him.

        "I am," he replied slowly, "You--you look familiar. Do I know you?"

        Kelly couldn't form any more words. Tears found their way to her eyes as she stood there. She began to cry, almost audibly. Trace opened the screen door, concerned for her, "Hey," he said softly, "Are you alright? Do you need help?"

        "Who is it, hun?" a woman asked, coming to the door, a young child in her arms. When Kelly saw the little girl, her heart couldn't take it anymore. She began sobbing, not loudly, but not silently. "Oh my lordy, come in, come in," the woman said quickly, "What's the matter, dear? Are you lost? Hurt?"

        Kelly managed to ask for a glass of water and the woman left to get one, placing the baby in a small play pen nearby beforehand. Meanwhile, Trace led Kelly to the couch and helped her sit. He stood a few feet away as the woman helped Kelly drink some water, calming her from crying.

        "Daddy, what's wron?" the baby girl asked Trace.

        "I don't know, sweetheart, why don't you go to your room and play for a little while?" he said, taking her out of the playpen. The young girl toddled off, only making it harder on Kelly. Trace turned back and knelt near Kelly, "Is there anything we can do to help you?"

        Kelly couldn't stand it anymore, "Trace," she whispered, "It's me."

        Trace stood up, shocked and nervous, "How do you know that name?"

        "It's ME, Trace. It's Kelly."

        "No. No it's not. Kelly is dead. She was kidnapped and she's dead, you're not her. You don't look like Kelly," he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of these lies.

        "Trace, it really is me, I promise you. I found Peter. He helped me change my face so I could go after the men who hurt me. I got my revenge, Trace. They're behind bars, gone forever--"

        "Tyler, what's she talking about? I thought you said Kelly was dead--"

        "She--" Trace couldn't finish the sentence. Kelly stood up and almost yelled, "Dammit, Trace! You're my brother! You should know me, no matter what I do to my face! It's ME! I'm older, and I look a little different, but it's ME! Our mother is Polly Domonic, our sister is Francine, but we call her Fred. We lived in New York and when I was thirteen, I was kid--"

        She was interrupted by so tight a hug, it took her breath away. Trace was convinced, and now, he didn't want to let go. The woman sat on the couch, confused and nervous now.

        Trace let go after a full five minutes, tears on his face and Kelly's. He wiped her cheeks and looked down at her, kissing her forehead, "I didn't want to believe it. I had finally moved on, Kelly, I'm so sorry. I thought you were dead after I lost you that second time and I--"

        "It's alright," Kelly interrupted, "None of it was your fault. I'm okay now, though. I'm okay. I've been okay for a little over two years now. It looks like you've been okay for a little over two years as well..."

        "Oh my gosh, I'm such an idiot. Kelly, this is my wife, Jennifer. Jen, this...this is Kelly..."

        "How--" Jen asked quietly.

        Kelly took her hand and Trace's and sat them on the couch. She sat on the armchair a few feet away, "It's a long story..." she began.

        Three hours, two pots of coffee, and three sandwiches later, the story was told in full detail. Trace and Jennifer were caught up and Kelly had exhausted herself reliving it all over again. Trace paused a few minutes before speaking, "I--I don't even know what to say. I'm just SO glad you're okay. How are--how are--"

        "Mom and Fred are just fine. They're actually at my Home right now. Fred says for me to bring you back, but, I can see that's not going to happen...We all assumed you were either dead or still missing. We had no idea you would ever build a life for yourself."

        "Yeah, well, I decided to embrace my changed name and change my life around. I got a job and started working days and nights. I finally had enough for taking a class at the local college. That's where I met Jen. We got to know each other and..."

        "He ended up telling me everything one night. We had just gone to the carnival as friends, but we left as much more than that."

        "I married her six months later and about a year after that, Kelly was born--named after you, of course. I just had to have something--"

        "I understand," Kelly said quietly, "She's beautiful."

        "She's your neice," Trace said, a slight smile on his face, "Who would have ever thought that we'd ever get past all this?"

        "I can't believe it myslef sometimes," Kelly sighed, "But then I look at all the women I've helped, children I've saved, and I can't help but be thankful for I went through. No one really understands this, but I'm thankful for it. It made me into the person I am today. If I hadn't been kidnapped, I never would have met Peter, or Tabitha, or Wesley...I never would have been able to save all those women and kids--and if you really think about it, you probably wouldn't have met Jennifer."

        Trace's eyes now lit up and he looked at his wife. He took a minute thinking of what to say next, then he said, "Since you've come to terms with it, so can I. I'm thankful I ended up here, and that I found Jennifer. She has become my life."

        Kelly smiled. She spent a few minutes debating on whether to ask Trace to come back with her, just for a visit, but her thoughts were interrupted by Jennifer, "Tyler--or, Trace, I think you should go back with Kelly. See your mother and sister, get some closure."

        Trace's eyes darkened. He looked away from prying eyes and looked at the floor. He leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him before speaking, "I won't. I can't. I need some time after what we went through with each other. They may be able to shake it off easier, but that's because they were delivering it, not receiving it. They hated me, Fred said I was dead to her, and mom told me to leave, siding with Fred. I can't go back--not yet."