The Way Back

Coming Home

Her impatience grew as the car slowly climbed the sweeping driveway. "Hurry," she pleaded and flicked her cigarette out the cracked window. To calm her nerves, she had started chain-smoking within five miles of the house. She had been on edge since receiving a phone call over three hours ago. Elisabeth guessed it was a great occurrence that she'd finished her finals early and had decided to leave Oakland to surprise her parents. The girl chewed on her bottom lip and drew in a breath as her childhood home came into view. She couldn't wait for the car to completely stop. Her fingers were on the handle and opening it, scrambling out before her boyfriend could put the vehicle in park. The brunette hit the ground running and listened to the fast click of her heeled boots against the white steps. She caught her breath and stumbled on the last step as her heel broke off. Elisabeth lost her balance, screaming and tumbling in front of the door. She felt the burn from her knee scraping against the Spanish tiles as she roughly landed. "Fuck," she muttered repeatedly as she recovered from the fall. Libba gazed down at her freshly ripped jeans and hissed as she delicately touched her bleeding knee. "Just fucking great," she complained, pushing her wild curls out of her face and bolting through the door. "Daddy!" she yelled and kicked off her boots. "Daddy!" she shouted louder and repeated until her father came into view.

Lindsey stepped into the foyer and looked at his daughter. "It's not the 17th...is it?" he questioned. He thought Elisabeth was coming home on Sunday, but he could have been wrong. For most of the week, he'd had his days mixed up.

Elisabeth shook her head and wondered how he was being so calm. She expected him to be frazzled and frayed. "No, it's the 14th."

"You're here early," he commented and took a drink from his can of coca-cola.

"I finished early."

"Oh," Lindsey breathed out. His eyes drifted to his daughter's legs. "You should do something about that knee," he advised and turned on his heels, strolling back into the kitchen to finish making a sandwich.

Libba threw her hands up in exasperation and took after her father. Her brows shot up as she watched him smooth mayonnaise on a slice of wheat bread and made sure the edges of the American cheese were in line with the bread's crust. "Why are you so calm? How can you make a ham sandwich at a time like this? Shouldn't we be going?" she inquired.

"False alarm, Libba."

"What?"

"Libba, it was a false alarm," he reiterated and arranged ham onto the bread. "I didn't call back because I figured you'd be taking an exam. I didn't know you were on your way."

Elisabeth groaned in frustration and gently slammed her head against the wall. "You could have called, daddy. That's why I begged for a cell phone." She grimaced as torn denim brushed against her wound. Libba ripped a paper towel from the roll and gingerly walked to the sink, sticking the wadded paper under the tap. "For God's sake, the point of me having a phone that I could take everywhere was to stay in the loop," she rambled as she pressed the damp napkin to her kneecap.

"I'm sorry, Libba. You didn't miss anything except for your mother throwing a minor tantrum about the contractions stopping," he disclosed. Lindsey decided to leave out the part about Stevie clobbering him with a pillow because somehow it was all his fault. 

"Where is mama?"

"Upstairs," Lindsey answered and plated his monster sandwich. "Approach with caution!" he called out to his retreating daughter.

Libba jogged up the stairs and didn't bother knocking. She entered the master bedroom and saw her mother buried under the covers. She crawled into bed and carefully inched her body towards her. "Mama," she spoke softly.