WILD (✓)

~ three ~

"Hey, you never told me how your presentation went," Mom glances at me, before turning back to the road. We've been driving for just over two hours already, mostly in comfortable quiet, or humming along to the radio. The presentation seems so long ago, even though it has only been a few days. The few days right before a break, I have found, go by in a stress inducing blur, followed by the sweet bliss of visiting home for a few days.

"I got an A," I say proudly, smiling at her profile. My stomach twists, reminding me of my failing exam grade. She would be so disappointed if she knew.

"That's great baby," She reaches over and pats my knee. The pride in her eyes twists my stomach even tighter. I have to tell her before I go back, if I don't, it'll be a much worse conversation when I get my grades in January.

"Are you nervous?" I sigh, pushing my dark bangs out of my eyes and staring out my window. Tall trees with bare branches line the highway. I've always loved watching the side of the road as I take long drives, always hoping to see a deer or something munching in the tree line.

"Why would I be?" She tries to sound light hearted, but her voice is only a whisper and I think I even hear it shake. Her eyes are straight ahead, hands tight on the wheel.

"Mom, come on," I whisper back, turning down the radio. Hannah isn't the only one feeling uneasy about the holiday. Every holiday the past couple of years has been hard, but we're going to my grandmother's for the first time in years and I'm not stupid enough to think my mom will be completely at ease.

"No, honey." I can tell her smile is forced. "She's family,"

At that, a tear pricks my eye, and I turn back to my window. I wish things were different. Mom has never been good at having hard conversations, a trait I am unlucky enough to have inherited. I try not to think too much the rest of the way to the house, instead focusing on the tall trees passing by.

We walk right into the old home, not bothering to ring the bell. I carry my duffel bag down the hall, lined with mismatched patterned rugs. It's dim in the hall, as it normally is, but I see the light on above the kitchen table ahead. "Oh my! There she is," Grandma brushes her hands on her white apron, before rushing out of the kitchen and pulling me in tightly to her chest. She's shorter than I remember, and her hair is finally starting to gray. But she has the same big smile and Grandma smell that I remember so well. "How's my girl?" She pulls back, holding me by my shoulders to take in my appearance. "Beautiful as ever."

"I'm good, Grandma," I smile back at her. She smiles a similar one back at me, with slight sadness behind her eyes. I can't help but to look away. Probably close to a hundred family portraits clutter the kitchen and living room area, all showing big, happy faces.

"Come here," she pulls me against her again, planting a kiss in my hair. I inhale her perfume, smelling sweet honey and vanilla. I've always loved her fragrance, it always made me feel cozy and at home, I remember. I hug her back, noticing that she's much thinner than normal.

"Beatrice," Mom smiles politely, leaning in for a cordial embrace. Grandma stiffens, but wraps one arm around Mom's shoulders reluctantly. "We brought a pie," Mom raises the platter in her hands like a peace offering.

"Pecan," I tell her. "Dads favorite," Grandma smiles at me knowingly.

"Thank you, Lydia." Grandmas voice is clipped. She has never liked my mother, from the very first date my parents went on. Supposedly, she has gotten more polite over the years. I'd hate to see how she was before, I think to myself as I watch Mom awkwardly take a seat in the living room as Grandma takes the pie to the kitchen, shuffling in her thin slippers.