Traceless

Thunder rolled as Hannah wiped off the shelves with a dry washcloth; not that he would notice a thin layer of dust on the glass and frames. He was more interested in the photos themselves. She smiled at the framed photo of their wedding day. It poured that day too, so they squished everyone into the nearest pavilion and finished the ceremony there. Her hair curled with the moisture, but she didn’t care. That was the happiest moment of her life… well, one of them.

He’d be home in an hour. And she hadn’t brushed her teeth! Ugh, her breath stank. She ran to their room. The apartment was clean enough. She brushed her hair, put on the big sweater he liked and her favorite pair of yoga pants. Thank God he convinced her to stay in tonight. Those too-small high heels could stay where they were. Her bubbly mouth rinse was just sliding down the drain when she heard a knock on the door. He’s home early, she thought, biting her lip. His mom hadn’t stopped by yet but they could be quiet ‘til then.

Her bare feet flew down the hallway until she got to the door. It burst open and she stopped. Trace Jarret stood in the doorway, soaking wet.

“Trace-”

“You wouldn’t believe the day I had.” He rushed in with wild eyes. “I’m sorry about the fight last night and this morning, okay? Work’s been crazy, but I’m ready to make it up to you.” Arms wide, he came toward her.

She backed up quickly.  “Trace what-”

“I’m sorry you’re right. I look like I mess and you’re probably wondering what happened.”

“Well, sure but-”

“You know Miss Norman from down the hall? She was walking down the stairs when I stormed out this morning. She asked if everything was all right, ‘cause she heard yelling. Nosey old lady. I told her it was none of her business. Then, she got all quiet. She looked at me and said ‘Well by the time you come home, it won’t be any of yours either.’ Then she went back inside!”

“Trace-”

“I went to work all mad and confused. When I told Drew, the new guy at work, what she said, he was like, ‘Maybe she’s gonna leave you, man.’ I told him that was crazy, but I couldn’t get that out of my head all day. Nannah, Baby, please don’t leave me.”

“Nannah? What-”

“I know I can be tough to deal with, but I love you. We can work this out!”

“Trace, we’re not-”

“We are meant to be together, though.” Before her mouth could utter a response, he surged forward and kissed her.

Hannah jerked back and slapped him across the face as hard as she could. He stumbled backwards and stared at her. She was on the verge of tears and her brows were knit together hard.

“Trace Jarret, you get out of my apartment right now before I call the police.”

“What? Baby-”

“Stop calling me that! I don’t know how you found out where I live, but you need to leave.”

“Nannah, what are you talking about?”

She shook her head, worried lines across her forehead. “Why are you calling me that? Why are you here? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Hannah, I’ve called you that since our second date. I’ve called you that for two years.” He was beginning to look frightened.

It must have been the sincere look of confusion in his eyes that kept her calm for her next words. “Trace,” she said slowly. “We haven’t talked since high school. That was seven years ago.”

***

            Silence.

            “What?” He whispered.

            “High school. We sat by each other at graduation. You made some joke about the speaker, I shushed you, and that was the last time we spoke.” Her right hand came up to her bottom lip, and started picking at it like she did when she was frustrated.

            “No,” he looked down. “No, that’s not right.”

            “Maybe,” she ventured. “Maybe you dreamt it or something…”

            “I didn’t dream two years of our life together, Nannah.”

            She cringed. “Please don’t call me that.”

            “But you loved it the first time I called you that.” He looked back up at her. “You giggled and called me an idiot.” He smiled sadly, confusedly.

            “Trace, that never happened.”

            “If that never happened, why are you living in our apartment.”

            “This has been my apartment since I graduated from college.”

            “Yeah but I moved in a year after we started dating.”

            “No. You didn’t.”

            “Yes, I did!”

            “Please don’t shout.” She started picking again.

            If his voice got quieter, she didn’t notice. “There’s the shelf with all our pictures on it.” He walked over and grabbed it, but froze on his way back. “Wha- Who’s this?” It was their wedding picture.

            “That’s my husband, David. We’ve been married for two years.” She looked down at her left hand and held it out to him. “Two years today, actually.”

            As if all the life had been sucked out of him, Trace stared at the ring. It was simple, yet elegant; but he hadn’t been the one to put it on her finger. “That doesn’t make sense… I know we lived together. We love each other.”

            There was no easy way to ask but, “Trace,” she said softly. “Are you… Are you on drugs or… or do you drink very often?”

            “What?” he exclaimed. “No, Hannah, I’m not high or drunk!”

            “Please don’t yell.” Hannah said in a loud whisper.

            “Why? Why do I have to be so quiet?” She couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad, but his agitation was making her nervous.

            “Because you’re going to wake up my-”

            “Mama?” A small voice drifted out to them. Hannah’s eyes closed, and she exhaled. Trace’s eyes widened even more. “Mama?” the voice called again.

            “I’ll… I’ll be right back.” And she turned toward the hall.

            “Mama?”

            “I’m coming, baby.” She disappeared into one of the rooms. When she reemerged, she held a bundle of blankets in her arms. Trace would have walked towards her, but his feet were rooted to the floor. The bundle of blankets wiggled and two bare feet popped out. Next came a small head with deep brown hair. The little boy turned his head to look at the stranger. He looked just like her, but his eyes were green, not light brown like hers.

            “He’s- he’s got your mouth…”

            “He’s got my everything,” Hannah said with a smile, looking at her son adoringly. “Except for his eyes. He got those from his daddy.” She smoothed out his rumpled hair as he rubbed those green eyes.

            “You- what’s his name?”

            “John-David.”

            “You said you didn’t want to have kids.” As her face turned from her son, back to the man by the door, the sunshine that seemed to light up her features faded. “Like four months ago, you said you never wanted kids.”

            Her head jerked back a bit in alarm and she looked at her son as if she thought he might understand the strange man’s words. But his head was on her shoulder as he drifted back to sleep. “JD is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

            “Of course not.” Trace said. “Of course you wouldn’t. He’s beautiful, just like his mom.” A new kind of softness entered Hannah’s eyes. Not the kind of wary calm she had developed earlier, but a sweet comfort of sorts. She didn’t look worried anymore, only kind of sad.

“Trace… David’s mother should be here any minute to pick up JD, and David will probably come home soon too, so… I don’t know how to explain this so maybe you should go.”

“Of course” He shook his head like he was just waking up and turned to leave.

            “Trace,” he stopped. “I don’t know if I believe you or not. What you said was… impossible. But you seem sober and you don’t sound like you’re lying. You seem to care about me.”

            “I do,” he said, without turning back to look at her.

            “Okay, well if you do, can you promise me something?”

            “Anything,” he turned to face her.

            “If this is all true and you get the chance to change everything back?” Her eyes pleaded with his. “Don’t.”

            Tears filled his eyes as he looked around her small apartment. It was cleaner than theirs. It looked more like a home, with toys that he hadn’t noticed before, strewn about the living room floor. He looked down at the picture he still had in his hand; in it, the girl he loved radiated pure joy, holding the hand of another man who looked at her with the same love Trace sometimes did. He set it on the shelf by the door and looked once more at the woman with long brown hair holding a child as beautiful as her. “I promise.” And he left.