Chapter Text
Her instinct when she and Shelley had finished the job was to find her way back to Eliot, but she knew she owed her family a visit. To be honest, she was eager to see them. She’d worked all of her adult life to get back home and now she was actually there. Her plane landed at the small regional airport closest to her hometown and it immediately felt familiar. Everything was so green and clean and pretty.
She took a deep breath and inhaled the warm air that enveloped her. it was warmer than New York or Boston by nearly 20 degrees and she loved it. She could feel the humid thickness surrounding her as soon as she stepped onto the tarmac. She remembered hating the humidity as a child. It’s not easy to maintain straight hair when you have natural curl in the South. But after being away from it for so long she couldn’t help but love it.
She was home.
She thought about calling her uncle to let him know she was coming, but since the last thing he’d heard from her was a rushed letter right after she and her mother had split she felt a phone call wasn’t enough. Instead, she rented a car and drove about twenty minutes south to a small bustling main street that never seemed to change. Local theater for community productions? Still there. Local Newspaper that ignores the World and uses town events for the headlines? In the same old brick building. Antique store owned by Old Irma? Check. Army & Navy store? Check. Kimbrall’s discount furniture? Check. Harley’s General Store and Ice Cream Parlor? You guessed it. Check.
The only thing strangely missing from her old hometown were the half dozen barbecue restaurants that existed within the same five mile stretch. She’d only counted two. Lexington was built on barbecue. They had their own damn style for crying out loud. Why would any of those restaurants close? It appeared to be recent too. The store fronts were still there. She brushed it off as something she’d worry about later when Lanier’s Building Supply suddenly came into view. The family business. Lanier’s had been keeping local contractors and carpenters supplied with goods since 1945. Her grandfather built it from nothing. Their family never struck it rich, but they never starved either.
She continued passed main street and until the buildings thinned and long stretches of empty land and rolling hills appeared. She turned down a dirt driveway and a yellow farmhouse came into view. A lovely, beautiful, warm farmhouse. Not too big, not too small with a wrap around porch and an old wooden garage. Every light in the house was on and glowed bright in the setting sun and she sighed contentedly. A bit of tension left from the job fell away as she parked and observed the house.
Home. She was home.
Her eyes began to water and she took in a deep breath to keep any tears at bay. Not now. Not yet. She grabbed her purse and her duffel out of the driver’s side and marched up the front steps. She opened the old wooden screen door that clearly needed a fresh coat of paint and then paused with her fist set to knock.
Oh god, what if they didn’t live here anymore? What if they didn’t recognize her? What if they hated her? They didn’t know she’d basically been held captive for 8 years by a mercenary. They didn’t know that she’d stayed away and out of contact before that and ever since for their own safety. As far as they knew, she’d gone away and never came back.
No, she didn’t come this far to chicken out. Damn it, she came this far to see her family again. Her real family. The only family that had ever cared for her. The family she always wished she’d had more than 12 years with. She gathered up her nerves and knocked firmly on the door.
The door opened and all questions about the lack of barbecue restaurants in town were forgotten because there, in the doorway, was her Uncle Everette. Tall and lanky as ever, though I bit grayer than when she’d left. His eyes lit up and filled with tears before he pulled her in for the biggest and most enthusiastic hug she’d had in a decade and a half.
“Always knew you’d come home someday. Welcome back, Clarabelle,” he said in a hoarse emotional tone as he held her tightly. “Welcome home.”
Finally. She thought as she let the tears she held back fall. She’d worked for years with the dream of returning home in the back of her mind. It wasn’t a dream any more. It was very real.