Coming Home

Kayla stepped out of her beat up Ford pickup. The blue door squealed as she opened it, and dust from the gravel road fell to the ground. Kayla removed her sunglasses and stuck them on her blonde head, squinting her eyes to a just to the evening sun.

The front yard was overgrown and riddled with weeds, and thorns. Yet somehow Granny's flowers still stood in the hot summer sun. Kayla remembered helping her plant the roses, and forsythia hedge that now bloomed in a circle bed in the front yard. Somehow she had gotten her whole body covered in dirt that day, but Granny hadn't cared. A soaking with the water hose was a good enough bath for her, and the hot little Kayla hadn't minded.

The white oak Kayla had fallen from when she was nine, still loomed over the Victorian style house. The huge pillars of the two story house weren't nearly as tall as the magnificent tree. It's wide branches reminding her of her childhood. She had climbed that tree too many times to count. Many of those times were to sneak out to the barn to sleep with the kittens.

Kayla smiled at the old house, it's peeling white paint, and broken shutters seemed to shift as she looked at them. No longer was this a broken down old farm, but her childhood home. Kayla opened the screen door, and took a step back in time. The furiture had long been taken out of the house, but she could still see it. The huge orange couch leaned against the back wall, covered in blankets. Gramps's old rocker sat in the corner by the big piture window, tilted ever so slightly to the glass. He always said it was so he could keep an eye on his cows. Granny's arm chair sat against the tall stairs, it's green pattern clashing with the obnoxious couch. The white coffee table and love seat were tucked along the opposite wall, a double window to there back.

Granny's raspy voice called to her from the kitchen, and Kayla turned, entering the large room that always smelled of spices.The outdated cast iron stove still sat in the corner, just waiting to be used. The worn cabinets hung above the counter and sink, just as tall as she remembered them.

She turned out of the room and walked up the staircase. The steps creaked and groaned like usual, but today it seemed more deafening in the quiet house. When she reach the top of the stairs, she was met with the smell of dust and decay. Tears blurred her vision as she wiped the railing with her sleeveless shirt. Granny always kept a clean house.

Walking down the hall to her room, she dried her eyes. Granny was never one for tears while she was alive.

The rusty hinges squeaked as she pushed open the door, revealing the huge room she had spent most of her childhood in. Kayla laughed at the loud pink walls, the sound echoed through the empty house. Had she really liked this color as a child? Now it seemed so absurd, so unruly. She had fought hard to get this exact color, and Granny had told her she'd regret it when she was older. Kayla shook her head, Granny was right, as always. If Mom hadn't gotten out early she would have wanted a different color.

Her eyes closed at the memories of life with her drug dealing mother. Kayla spent years moving from one town to the next, just to avoid the cops. Living with Granny had never been like that. Life with Granny was stable,predictable, and fun. She spent time in the fields and pastors, just playing like a child was suppose to. On days like this she'd go down to the creek in the back and swim.Though there were times Kayla had wished there weren't so many chores, she had never wished for a different Granny.

Kayla constantly wished for a different mom.

She looked at the light spot in the floor were her bed had been. Her last day in this room filled her mind, as memories good and bad assulted her.

Granny had sat on the bed as she packed. Kayla remembered how happy she had been to finally live with her mom again. She had never packed so fast in her life. Everything she owned was thrown into a trunk in thirty minutes.

When she finished Granny had sat Kayla down beside her on the bed. Her soft gray eyes filled with tears, and her wrinkled face contracted. It was the first time in the whole ten years she had been here that she had ever seen Granny cry.

"What's wrong Granny?" she had asked.

"Nothing K. I'm just going to miss you," she pulled Kayla to her ample chest, nealy sufficating her with the hug.

"Now you remember, if anything happens, you call me, alright? I love you," she whispered in her ear.

Kayla had nodded and told her Granny she loved her too. Then she grabbed her things and ran outside to meet her mother.

Mom had gotten into trouble that next week, but Kayla hadn't called Granny. The twelve year old little girl had been too foolish and nieve to. Some childish part of her still loved her mother, and wanted to protect her. Not a day went by that Kayla didn't wish she had picked up that phone and told Granny to come get her, to bring her back to this big house with the flower gardens, oak trees, and cows. Maybe if she had, she could have spent a few more years on the farm, soaking up Granny's love and good cooking, instead of tossed around between group homes and foster care.

Kayla took a big breath to clear her thoughts, then ran down the stairs like she had as a child. The front door banged as she ran out of it, and she could almost here Granny yell as she grabbed a box out of the bed of her pickup. She smiled, it was good to finally be home.