“This place is beautiful,” Jami mused, his eyes wondering the windshield of our rental car.
“It’s pretty to look at, but the charm wears off once you’ve been here a while.”
“Really?” he asked.
“Yeah. Especially when all the old women start walking up and asking you why you aren’t married and asking if you’re sterile since you don’t have kids.”
“Ouch.”
“Small towns are great, until you have to actually live in one,” I sighed, turning to look out the window.
A cool breeze blew through the branches of the blooming trees. Green leaves formed around bright yellow and pink flowers. I’d missed the colors of spring, but not enough to come back. I wanted to handle my business and go back to New York as soon as possible.
We turned onto the dirt that my parent’s house was on and the second the soft earth crunched under the tires, I felt every muscle in my body tense up. I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t want this. Just as I was about to beg Jami to turn around, I felt a strong hand on my knee. I looked at him, my eyes wide as he squeezed my knee.
“It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get through this as quickly as possible.”
I nodded, even though I didn’t quite believe him. Things were never easy when it came to my mother and I couldn’t help but thing that her being on her deathbed wouldn’t change much. I leaned my forehead against the window, trying to control my breathing.
Soon the family farm came into view and I was gripping Jami’s hand. A tall, southern plantation home came into view. The walls were painted a bright sunny yellow, and the shutters were stark white. A swing hung from a tall willow just in the front yard.
A heavy-set woman with a full head of white hair and strong arms swept the porch and my heart stuttered. It had been years, but I knew the woman sweeping was my mother. She wiped her hands on her apron, frowning as the car pulled into the driveway. My mind was spinning, trying to comprehend what was going on. If my mother was so sick…Why was she sweeping the massive, wrap around porch.
The car came to a stop and Jami offered me a questioning look, but I didn’t have an answer. I kicked the door open and walked up the stone pathway, staring at my mother.
“Mom?”
Her cloudy eyes widened and the broom slipped from her fingers, clattering against the wood floor. “Lena?”
For a long moment, I didn’t move. I held still as if not moving would keep her from seeing me. My chest felt tight and the lump in my throat wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. A terrified noise tried to work its way past my lips, but I swallowed it down, looking down and away. I didn’t know what to do. I hadn’t been expecting this.
“Lena? Is that you?” she whispered, picking up the hem of her modest skirt and walking down the moss covered stone pathway.
As she got closer, I took a small step away, but before I could get far, I hit the solid mass of Jami’s chest, suddenly finding myself pinned between my mother and the man I considered to be my boyfriend. It wasn’t really a place I ever wanted to find myself.
Jami’s hand wrapped around my wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze, trying to silently comfort me. My mother closed in and I felt my heart jump into my throat, closing my eyes and waiting for her hand to come down on my cheek. I was sure she’d be angry that I showed up out of the blue with a man I wasn’t married too.
Instead, her soft, warm arms wrapped around me and pulled me close, stroking my hair, a laugh bubbling up from her belly. “You’re here.”
“I…You’re happy to see me?”
She pulled away and pressed her hands to my cheeks, just looking me up and down for a long moment. “You’ve grown so much! Of-course I’m happy to see you. You’re my baby girl.”
Tears came to my eyes and I all but fell into her arms, leaning into her soft body. There was so much warmth and welcome in her embrace. “D-Daddy said you were sick.”
The floor of the porch creaked under someone’s foot and when I looked up, I saw my father standing at the top of the porch stairs, his hair grey and combed out of his face, a scruffy grey beard replacing the smooth shaved face I had in my mind’s eye.
He offered a nervous smile and shrugged a little. “Sorry, pudding.”
“What?”
He made his way down the stairs and came to stand beside me and my mother. He leaned heavily on a cane, but opened his free arm to me and I pressed myself against both my parents. They still smelled like fresh cut grass and a breeze before a rain storm. I’d missed this more than I’d realized or would have been willing to admit to anyone.
My father’s hand rested on the back of my head and I was suddenly taken back to the days I would spend in his lap while he read to me. “I’m sorry I lied, Lena, darling. I just knew it wasn’t going to be easy to get you back home. I was just so tired of our family being so fractured and so was your mother.”
I pulled back, my eyes wet and glassy with tears. “Why didn’t you say anything?” I pleaded, staring at my mother.
She cupped my cheek, her hands rough from the years she’d spent working our small farm. “I didn’t want to mess up your life. Your daddy would tell me about all the wonderful places you were going and the places you’d been. I didn’t want to tie you down. You were always such a free spirit and I kept you from that for so long…I didn’t want to keep you from what you loved.”