Doe Hollow

Homecoming

A black and white border collie and a golden retreiver met the truck at the end of the driveway. As AJ turned in, they chased after the truck gleefully, barking at the top of their lungs.

"Where's Beau?" Abbie asked, scanning the fields on either side of the driveway. AJ sighed.

"Didn't Dad tell you?" He asked.

"Tell me what?" Abby demanded. Her heart seemed to skip a beat.

"Beau died six months ago," AJ confessed, offering his sister a sheepish look.

"WHAT THE FUCK AJ!" Abby cried out. Beau, the Sparks family's black lab, had been Abby's faithful companion for the year until she left for basic training, and her most enthusiastic greeter each time she came home for a visit. AJ cringed.

"He probably just didn't want you to be upset," AJ rationalized. "You know how Dad is."

They rode the remaining quarter mile in silence. They came around a small bend, and the old farmhouse came into view. So many emotions crashed against Abby at once that she nearly felt blinded for a moment. This was the house she grew up in, the home she had been so happy to come back and visit when her busy Air Force schedule had allowed. Now she felt like she was approaching a strange, foreign place. It was overwhelming.

AJ pulled up next to their father's police cruiser and parked. As he made to get out of the truck, Abby grabbed his arm.

"Don't leave until after supper," she begged. "I can't handle them alone just yet." AJ gave her an understanding nod.

As AJ pulled Abby's meager baggage from the bed of the truck and set it on the dirt driveway, there was a sudden clatter as the screen door was flung open violently.

"Abby!" Virginia Sparks cried loudly, tears in her voice. "My baby!" Before Abby could protest her mother was on her, enveloping her in a crushing embrace that bordered on hysterical. After a long, breathless moment, she let go, hesitantly, as if she thought Abby would blow away in the wind. "We're so glad you're home."

Abby's father shuffled from the front porch in a forced casual manner and gave his daughter a brief, businesslike hug.

"Welcome home, sugar," he murmured, trying to hide the concern on his face as he looked Abby over. Ronnie Sparks was the type of man who shied away from intense emotions. As a career police chief, he prided himself on keeping a level head.

"Y'all, Abby's had a long day," AJ said, coming to the rescue. "We should let her get settled in.

"Yes, yes," Virginia sniffled. "I'll fix us all some lunch." With that she shot back up the front porch as quickly as she had come down it, eager to make herself useful. Ronnie and AJ each picked up one of Abby's bags and headed for the porch themselves, Abby in tow.

"Is the rest of your stuff coming with TMO?" Ronnie asked, ever practical.

"No, Daddy," Abby replied. "This is all I brought. I didn't want to carry a bunch of junk home. You know, fresh start and all that." Ronnie nodded, turning his face away to hide the sadness.

In her old room, Abby felt like an intruder. Her parents had kept everything just as she'd left it a decade ago, something that on visits over the years had made Abby feel nostalgic and safe. Now it made her feel like she was entering a stranger's private space. The pictures of her with friends she hadn't seen or heard from in years, the shelf of belt buckles she'd won barrel racing as a teenager, and the cork board covered in memorabilia from various events from her high school years all made Abby feel old and used up. She had never thought to leave any memories from her Air Force career during her stays, which she was thankful for now, but the room was depressing enough without them. She stretched out on the bed for a few moments, debating on letting go and crying right then or waiting until she went to bed that night. She quickly decided to wait. Once she opened Pandora's box she didn't know if she could close it, and she still had half a day with her family to get through. She choked back her tears, drew the remaining scraps of her inner strength up into flimsy military bearing, and headed back downstairs to the kitchen.