Now and Then

1

The airport is is crowded with young children running at everyone's feet. It is the end of May so distance relatives are scrambling to make their way to graduations. College is usually earlier in the month so I assume high school.

"Honey, I'm looking for Gate 23," A woman pulls at my shoulder. She stands inches below me and her children towering over us both and two little ones tugging at her pants leg.

I point to the sign flashing red near us and she smiles, squeezes my hand in gratitude and shuffles towards it. I frown because I don't want that life. A life of too many children that they bull dozer over me. A life where I'm scrambling to keep myself together and have to rush to meet expectations. I look up at Gate 23 and follow behind this man whose hair is thinning to where I'm able to see a patch of his scalp. This flight is heading to Denver. Dryport, Denver.

I stay away from this town because it always seem to suck you into it. The lifestyle here is simple so no one wants to change. This happens to the best of them, I swear my mother was going to college and would become a successful doctor. That's what she wanted but she wouldn't leave. I want so bad for Gracie to leave. I pray while I sit on the plane that she made a good decision to come up North with me to some college.

I tell her all the time, "Dryport will keep you here if you let it."

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Once I fish my luggage from baggage claim I find my mama standing near the door. She told me a long time ago she doesn't like a lot of people, especially in small places.

"I don't trust it," she says when she hears strangers are getting together to celebrate, or discuss, or protest anything. This behavior might keep her from her own daughters graduation again.

"How are you, mama?" I squeeze her right once I get her into a hug.

"I'm feeling great, honey," she says. I know she has not changed.

When I left for college a year ago we promised we'd keep in touch. She'd call two or three times out of the month asking if I'd eaten and about my classes. I hadn't heard from her in a month before she called last week to remind me of Gracie's graduation. This is what she does. Gracie, on the other hand, calls when she can. She spends a lot of time in church and working in the ministry. When she calls though we talk to hours about tv shows, and book-tubers. We enjoy catching up. I think because we look so similar we enjoy looking at each others face. In middle school we'd switch places for the day, the teachers didn't notice but the students did.

"Where's Gracie?" I ask.

"She's home getting set up for your arrival." She says grabbing one of my luggage's and leading the way to the car.

Despite my mamas neuroticism, she went on the marry my father and together they brought a massive house that sits in the woods. I can imagine the decorations they've put up for my arrival, but mostly for Gracie's big day.

"I hope there isn't white everywhere," I say leaning against the door.

"Well your sister is planning it so you know how that goes," she laughed at that.

"Oh, and Rowan," she looks over at me than back at the road, "Gracie is pregnant."