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I studied her, and said, “Nah, you haven’t lost your waist-line, and to be honest, you look terrific, I think the extra curves suit you. it gives you a certain…mommy look, but a sexy mommy look.”
Elain laughed. “Come on, let’s get you home, Callie.”
Although it was dark, not the dark you get in the city where there’s always the murkiness of streetlamps, but a deep dark, where hardly any human influence touches, and the stars shine bright, I watched anxiously as we turned down the long dirt driveway to my childhood home. Illuminated by the headlights, the barbwire fences stood straight and well mended, the sign hanging over the driveway entrance read Hamlyn Ranch, and it swung on its chains in the slight breeze. I saw the dark silhouette of cattle as we climbed up the meandering drive, weaving our way over soft hills. In the distance, I could see a few lights from the house, like tiny yellow stars on the horizon.
Along the drive, Elaine had filled me in on our mom’s sickness, on everything happening at the ranch, and on all the family gossip. She told me that my brother, Cody, had been taking over most of the decisions on the ranch, and he’d been making some big changes. I was surprised to hear that my dad was willing to hand over the reins of the ranch he’d worked so hard to build, but we’d all known Cody would be the one to take over for him one day. I figured it must be due to my mom’s illness and not his own willingness to step down.
Ascending the final crest in the drive, I found myself sitting forward slightly, excited and nervous to see home. The truck’s lights lit up the house, and I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. It stood there just as I remembered, tall, imposing, and completely perfect. The two story farm house was large, boasting five rooms, a wrap-around porch, and an extra-large kitchen. I smiled at the memories of all the family dinners and holidays we’d spent there.
Beside me, Elaine’s voice was soft as she said, “Feels good to come home, doesn’t it?”
Glancing at her, I swallowed, because suddenly I felt overwhelmingly emotional, and I felt foolish for it. It had only been two years since I’d come home for a visit, but for some odd reason, it felt like it had been a lifetime. “Yeah.” My voice cracked and the one word was all I managed to get out.
When my sister parked in front of the house, I felt my hands shaking, nerves abounding in me, because I wasn’t sure what I would find here. Would my parents be happy to see me? would my mother be suspicious that it was only her illness which had brough me home, or would they recall all the things that had happened that summer and remember how I was “loco” as they’d likely thought back then.
I didn’t have long to wait. The screen door squeaked on its hinges as my father stepped outside, the shotgun he’d been polishing in his hands. “Hey Elaine, did you happen to stop in at the grocery sto…” his words cut off, hanging in the air as his eyes registered the sight before him.
We stared at one another for several seconds, before he finally set the gun down in the porch chair and stepped toward me. “Calamity Jane, I didn’t know you were coming.”
I smiled at the surprise on his face. “Hey Pa. I thought maybe I could come home, for a while.”
My dad looked from me to Elaine, and back again. I felt trepidation rising, and my nerves grew, but then, his weathered face cracked into a wide smile, and he closed the gap between us, yanking me into a rough hug. “Oh, little Callie, you’re always welcome to come home.”
With my father’s arms holding me, I relaxed against him, releasing a long sigh. I couldn’t even remember the last time he’d hugged me like this, like I was still his little cowgirl in pigtails. I felt tears swell over the brim of my eyes, and roll down my cheeks, but I didn’t care.
Behind my dad, I heard the screen door close and my mother’s voice. “Bill, what’s going on? Is Elaine back from town…”
Her voice trailed off just as my dad let go of me and stepped aside. I looked up at my mom, and immediately guilt washed through me. She was thinner than the last time I’d seen her. Her dark blue eyes stared at me, her mouth slack.
“Hey Ma. You wanted me to come home, remember?” I watched her expression turn from shock to happiness, before settling on her typical stern expression.
“Calamity Jane Hamlyn, you didn’t even tell us you were coming! How long will you be staying this time?”
I smiled despite her tone. This was her way. Laura Coleman Hamlyn had been stern for as long as I remembered, but beneath that rock hard surface, I knew there was a soft, squishy heart of gold.
With a grin, I walked forward and embraced her. “It’s good to see you too Ma. I’m going to stay…for a while this time, if it’s okay with you guys.”
My mom stepped back, looking me over. “Well, you could’ve at least let me know so I could dust out your room and change your bedding, really Callie.”
My grin only widened. Her use of my nickname let me know how happy she really was that I was there. “Don’t worry, Ma. I can make up my own room. You don’t need to fret over me.”
My mother gave me a pshh before turning and heading, I knew without a doubt, directly to my room. I laughed and my father and I exchanged knowing looks. “I better hurry up and get in there before she beats me to it.” My father and I shared a chuckle as I headed up the wooden porch stairs and into the house where I’d grown up.
Even just laying my hand against the smoothness of the worn wooden railing brought a sense of nostalgia over me. It felt so good to be home, and for some reason, it felt so right. I was home, and some small part of me that had been dormant seemed to awaken, and it said I was meant to be home. This was my place in the world, and I was supposed to be here. I wanted to argue, to remind that part of me about the pain of our past, but I was tired, and I didn’t have the energy.
6
Warm sunlight filtered down on me, bathing me in its light. I could feel the kiss of it along my bare arms, my neck, and my face. Around me, the sounds of cattle and horses greeted my ears. A horse whinnied, and a cow bellowed. I could hear the chug of the tractor engine and I knew someone was feeding. Dogs barked in the distance, and something cold touched my hand. I blinked sleepily a few times, mumbling to myself. The cold-wetness wiggled in my hand, and I froze.
Eew…something was touching my hand. Something that felt gross, and and…with a tiny squeal of fear, I sat bolt-upright, peering through my sleep-induced haze. What I discovered in my hand was not at all what I’d expected. The cold wet feeling was caused by a small moist black nose belonging to the cutest, fluffiest puppy I’d ever seen. I stared at it, and it’s one brown eye, one bi-colored blue and brown eye stared right back. the puppy was barely big enough to get its front legs over the edge of my bed, its nose stretching up to press my hand where it lay slightly over the edge. I peered down at the rest of the furry body and noticed the little nub tail that wouldn’t stop wiggling.
“Huh.” Was all I could think with such a fuzzy brain. Then, as my thoughts began clearing and the puppy whined, his eyes looking adoringly at me, I wanted to get the hell away from it, and never see it again. Old fears began invading the peace I’d been feeling moments ago, and I backed up against my headboard as far as I could go. “Go on, go away.” I tried to shoo the puppy away, but that just seemed to encourage him to try harder to get up onto my bed.
From the doorway of my room, I heard a soft feminine chuckle. Glancing up, I noticed my mother standing there. her face was somewhat softer than it usually was, and she seemed amused by my situation. Her hair was pinned atop her head, the blonde having faded to mostly white, and her blue dress was covered with a chicken themed apron.
“Funny, I don’t recall you having any fear of dogs before, Calamity. Besides, he’s just a babe. Don’t tell me spending years in that hoity toity city has made you dislike animals.”
I looked into my mom’s dark blue eyes, and I was tempted to remind her the trouble loving animals had caused me when I was seventeen, but I thought it was probably better to leave the past in the past. “I’m not afraid, I just…” I had no reasonable explanation.
