Kellie Trudeau stepped out of her car, looked up at her cabin and sighed, smiling. This was her new home, her dream home for retirement, and it was a perfect-looking as she had remembered.
The cabin was not a true log structure, but had wooden exterior and interior walls. Despite appearances, it was well insulated. It was hooked into an electrical grid, and had electric heat and cooking; Kellie would have preferred a gas range and oven, but shipped propane would have been her only option for them, and she knew she wouldn’t be using those things too often here, anyway. It had a septic system, newly installed, and well water, as well as access to a nearby natural spring.
The cabin had a living area and kitchen that were essentially one room. There was a wonderful porch out front, looking down over the Appalachian mountains. The view was breathtaking, and one of the reasons she bought the cabin. Inside were also two bedrooms, one of which was a loft overtop the other. And there was, of course, a restroom.
Another reason Kellie had bought the property was the barn. It was large, unusually so for this location. It had been restored before she acquired the land, and was perfect for the special furnishings she and Gill had kept in the barn at his cabin in Canada. It would give her a needed change of scenery from time to time, and a chance to stretch out.
Kellie looked wistful as she thought of the Canadian cabin. It belonged to Gill’s family before they were married, and they had enjoyed it immensely as a young couple. It was their private retreat, and a much-needed getaway for her from her Elevator Girl duties. After April was born, it had become their family spot. There were even a few times when the Greenes had been up at the cabin with them, enjoying the time with friends close enough to be part of the family.
Then came that fateful day when Dakota was finally rescued after 25 years in suspended animation. He and all of the Greenes had used the cabin as a place to reconnect and to get him more caught up with the world. From then on, it became their special spot, too.
After April was out on her own, Kellie and Gill had decided to use the cabin more for themselves, while still keeping it available for April and the Greenes. But then April fell in love with Gabe Jimenez, and announced that they were engaged. Kellie and Gill decided they would give the cabin to the newlyweds as a wedding gift, and get themselves another, smaller cabin -- one that could really be theirs.
That plan ended on the awful day, almost a year ago, when Kellie came home from an Elevator Woman mission to find Gill dead on the floor. His body was already cold when she got home. Doctors told her it was a sudden death heart attack, and that there was little chance he could have been saved, even if she’d been home. It didn’t matter. Gill was gone, and she still felt she might have been able to find a way to save him if he’d been there.
After Gill’s death, Kellie had looked for a cabin in Canada, but quickly realized that it wouldn’t be the same there without Gill. At the same time, she discovered the wonders of some locations in the Appalachian Mountains. There were cabins that were so isolated as to be at a distance from anyone else. Kellie had found one such cabin in northern West Virginia, near the tri-state area with Ohio and Pennsylvania.
This one had a special appeal to Kellie. There was room here for a series of dollhouses inside, including one that was actually engraved in a small piece of gold, allowing the size-changing woman to shrink to nearly microscopic size if she wished. The barn gave her a place to lounge as a giantess of up to 30 feet tall, and the cabin’s isolation would allow her to even go for hikes at more than a thousand feet tall if she so desired. She wouldn’t be completely cut off from the world; the cabin had Internet service, so all Kellie’s communications tech would work. But it was a true retreat unless she allowed information in, or sent some out.
Kellie opened the trunk of her car and got out the two suitcases inside it. She had already gotten all the furniture, including the oversize furniture for the barn, moved in, along with all of her other belongings. She had been planning to come directly here after the retirement ceremony anyway, but April’s odd excuse for Kellie Trudeau’s absence had guaranteed that move was necessary.
Once she was finished unpacking, Kellie made a simple supper and settled in. The front porch faced west, giving her an ideal look at the sunset. She took a large glass of iced tea and sat on the porch, smiling at the gorgeous view of the sunset.
Then Kellie went into the bedroom. She climbed into the bed, then turned to the three framed pictures that sat on the nightstand beside her bed. She kissed first the photo of April, then the photo of Gill, and finally the photo of Dakota. Then she snuggled in and went to sleep.
The next morning, Kellie went through messages sent for Elevator Woman’s retirement. Most were generic from fans. Two dozen were from people she had rescued over the years. One holovid had particularly tickled her; it had come from Jenna, her best friend in high school. Now a grandma and looking very matronly, Jenna had sent the encrypted message.
“Kellie, I just wanted you to know how proud I am to be your friend,” Jenna said, “and I’m so glad you are able to retire. I wish, as I’m sure you do, that Gill had lived to see this, but you have earned the chance to rest and relax. Maybe this means you can come visit me a little more? Even if it doesn’t, just know I’m so happy for you, and I wish you all the best, always.”
Kellie spent most of her first full day in the cabin working in the garden and on household details. At the end of the day, she repeated watching the sunset view and the bedtime ritual of kissing the pictures.
Over the next few days, Kellie explored all the possibilities of size available to her. She met neighbors on another mountain while mountain-sized herself. They had no idea of her real name, but deduced easily that she was the recently retired original Elevator Woman, and simply took it in stride that she was a neighbor. She realized after a short conversation that they had no interest in sharing the news with anyone else. They, like her, valued their privacy, and understood that sharing such news would end the serenity of this life. Kellie left, glad to know her neighbors, but not feeling a friendly connection made; this was more like a necessity of being neighbors in an isolated and extreme place when there might not be anyone else to rely on.
The next morning, she discovered that the view from her back patio of the sun rising over the mountain on which she lived was almost as great as the one of the sunset on her front porch. She took her morning coffee onto the patio each day.
Two days before Dakota’s birthday, the loneliness hit Kellie. She had only lived alone a few times in her life, and at those times she was still in a community. She had sold the old house nearly 10 years ago, but she and Gill had lived together in a different house, with April for the first few years, after that. After Gill died, Kellie couldn’t take living alone and seeing the spot where she had found him. She had moved into a smaller house, which she rented while she worked on plans for the cabin and her retirement. Now she was really, truly alone. April would be at work, Kellie realized. So would Dakota. Kellie dialed her mom, but got no answer.
Kellie shrank that day, spending a lot of the day nearly microscopic inside the golden dollhouse. In the evening, she called April, but got no answer. She did get to talk to her mother, which helped somewhat.
That night, when she went to bed, Kellie looked at the pictures beside her bed. She was fine when she kissed April’s, but tears can down her cheek as she kissed the pictures of Gill and Dakota. She held them both with her as she got into bed.
Kellie had trouble sleeping that night. Dakota’s words after the retirement ceremony kept running through her head. ““But I still love you, Kel! I don’t care about what Dekker did to separate us! I love you, and I’d embrace caring for you in your old age! I want the chance to do that!”
In the course of that night, Kellie realized just how alone she really was. Then it hit her how alone Dakota really was. He had been on a number of dates over the last 10 years -- some set up by publicists, some by her, hoping to bring him some happiness and get him away from focusing on her. But he had never gotten serious with anyone, not in a decade. Her heart ached for him.
By morning, Kellie had resolved that, when she saw Dakota for his birthday, she would relent. If he wanted to try to resume things again, she would agree. The worst that would happen was that they wouldn’t work out, and they’d both finally be free to move on. But, knowing how their love had endured through all the madness they’d faced in life, Kellie suspected it would succeed.
Kellie almost bounced into the bathroom that morning in her excitement. Then she looked at her face and hair in the mirror.
The excitement was gone. So was the resolve to allow Dakota to pursue her. She saw a woman who looked every day of her 50 years old, with crow’s feet and other wrinkles and lines, bags under her eyes and a bit of wattling starting to show at the neck. She saw confirmed again how big a gap that really was between her and Dakota. They had shared experiences from youth, but he had so many more years ahead of him. He had been imprisoned in suspended animation too long; she couldn’t leave him imprisoned again, chained to an old woman when he was so young and vital.
Kellie sat inside that morning and sipped her coffee slowly, staring at the table.
Later that day, Dakota arrived at Lakota’s home in a heavy rain. When he got inside the house, he handed his coat to his sister.
Lakota hung the coat up. As she did so, a small box fell out of the coat’s pocket.
Dakota dropped down quickly and grabbed the box. He looked up at his twin sister. In that moment, thanks in part to her now being physically 25 years older than him, the expression on her face looked so much like their mother when she’d caught him in some scheme, it made him cringe.
Lakota smiled. “What’s in the box, Bro?”
Dakota fingered the box absently. “You can see what kind of box it is. You can guess.”
Lakota folded her arms across her chest and looked at Dakota slyly. “Now, why would you be carrying a ring box on this trip?”
Dakota shrugged. “I’m just trying to give myself hope. Maybe I can get what I really want this birthday, or who I really want this birthday. And, even if I can’t tomorrow, maybe I can start the process of wearing her down and getting her sometime down the line.”
Lakota looked Dakota in the eye. “But why now, Bro?”
Dakota looked sheepishly at his sister. “I said the words to her last week, Sis. Right out loud. I told her I love her, and I told her I don’t care about the age thing.”
“What’d she do?” Lakota asked.
“She just stood with her back to me,” Dakota said. “But, when I apologized for saying it, she told me never to do that -- apologize for loving her -- again, and she admitted -- very reluctantly, and only with prompting, but she admitted -- that she still loves me, too.”
Lakota patted Dakota’s arm. “Hang onto that thought, Bro. You never know.”
Once the twins were together with Rosie and Cody, Lakota went over plans for the next day. They would join Lakota and Dakota’s parents the next morning for brunch. Then Dakota would get to the airport for a flight to Pittsburgh.
“Pittsburgh?” Dakota repeated. “Why Pittsburgh?”
“It’s close to Kellie’s new cabin, and we’ve got you a room booked in a motel there,” Lakota said.
“I thought Kellie’s new cabin was in West Virginia,” Dakota said.
“Extreme northern West Virginia,” Lakota said. “Pittsburgh is the closest major airport. If you’re going to see Kellie, you need to see here there.”
Dakota looked sulky. “Why isn’t she coming here?”
“It’s got something to do with that excuse Lakota made for why Kellie Trudeau wasn’t at the retirement ceremony,” Lakota said.
“Yeah, what was with that?” Dakota asked.
Rosie giggled as if she were still a schoolgirl. Cody sat looking bored, as he had through the entire conversation.
Lakota shrugged. “Ask April,” she said. “Anyway, once you get to Pittsburgh, call ahead to April, and take a cab to the motel. That way she’ll have time to get things ready for you.”
Dakota raised his eyebrow, frowning. “OK,” he said, his tone sounding uncertain about the idea.
Later that evening, Dakota was alone with Cody in the great room while Lakota and Rosie were on the phone in Rosie’s old bedroom.
“Uncle Dakota,” Cody said, “can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You’ve dated a lot of hot women, but you’ve never really gone out more than about twice with any of them,” Cody said. “I mean, most guys would fall all over themselves to be in a couple with women like Neesi Miller or Dasha Hireman, but you haven’t. And it’s not like you haven’t had chances. From what I’ve heard some of them really wanted to make a cup with you. Why haven’t you at least gone on a more dates with one or two of them?”
“Make a cup?” Dakota repeated.
“You know, couple up,” Cody said.
“Oh,” Dakota said. “Well, see, Cody, there was this girl I dated in high school, and I’ve never really gotten over her. You might say she left some very big shoes to fill.”
Cody smiled. “You mean Elevator Woman.”
“Back then, she was Elevator Girl,” Cody said. “But, actually, I was referring to your Aunt Kellie, not Elevator Girl. Elevator Girl, or Woman, is just the mask. Kellie‘s who she really is.”
Cody looked thoughtful. “Actually, I always thought it was the other way around,” he said.
Dakota looked confused. “Huh?”
“I always thought Elevator Woman was who Aunt Kellie really was,” he said. “I mean, everything she does in both identities is the same, except she doesn’t use superpowers in one. She works really hard to defend, help and protect those she cares about, no matter what it costs her in the process. It’s just that, as Elevator Woman, she’s got a lot more people to protect … or she did, until she retired. But she does that with everybody, even as Kellie, on the Greene-Ross board, and with everyone around her. Heck, she’s done that with us.”
Dakota stared past his nephew for a moment as he began to understand something about the woman he loved. “You’re absolutely right, Cody. That’s what she’s always done, and she’s still doing it now. She’s trying to protect me.”
“You mean I’m right about something?” Cody said. “Can you please tell my Mom that?”
In Rosie’s old room, Lakota was placing a call to April. “Hey, April. It’s Aunt Lakota.”
“Hey, Aunt Lakota,” April said. “Are we still a go for tomorrow?”
“Definitely,” Lakota said, “and, April: He bought a ring, and he’s bringing it with him.”
“Really?” April said.
“He said he’s hoping he can convince her, or at least wear her down,“ Lakota said. “And he said she admitted to him last week that she still loves him, after he told her he loves her.”
“Wow!” April said.
“Is everything ready on your side?” Lakota asked.
“We’re a go here,” April said.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t tell your mom tonight what’s going on?” Lakota asked.
“Naah,” April said. “Aside from the limits on the tech, you know Mom. The more time she has to think about this, the more likely she is to think up some excuse not to do it, some reason it’s a bad idea, or at least that she’ll think it’s a bad idea. If this is going to work, we need to keep it a secret until she has to just follow her heart, not her head.”
“You’re right,” Lakota said. “Well, the ball’s in your court now, April. We’ll get him out to you. From there it’s up to you … and to them.”
Cody had gone to his room. Dakota went to the back deck of the house. He paused at the sight of the sunset, the final one before he turned 50. He didn’t remember ever seeing one quite so beautiful. He hoped that was a good sign for the next day.
Kellie sat on her cabin’s porch, looking at the gorgeous sunset. At least she would see Dakota the next day. Even if it meant more hurt for her heart, those moments were what that heart beat for now. It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough for her. Dakota was better off that way, she thought.
Giantess World
