Return

 She pushed the door in to her arm's length before stepping in. All those familiar smells came swirling around her, bringing tides of memory. Then she was across the threshold. Inside once again.

"Mommy?" she called. How long had it been since she had said that word? Under her feet the wooden floor creaked. Around her were all the familiar shelves. The light coming in from behind her from the front windows. The light coming from the back door off in the distance. She waited before calling again. "Mommy? It's me."

A rustle from the back room, then a surprised voice: "Barbara? Is that you?" More rustling, and then she appeared in the doorway. Her mother.

"Hello mommy," she said plainly. "I'm home."

Her mother rushed around the counter, wiping her hands on her apron as she rapidly approached. Tears in her eyes. 

As her mother embraced her, she repeated, "I'm home."

The hug was fierce and lasted as long as it should have. "Oh Barbara. We've missed you." Her mother took a step back and without letting go of her daughter's shoulders. Then she pulled her close once again. 

Time stopped until at last she said, "Where's daddy?"

Now the embrace ended as they both wiped tears from their eyes. "He's out back. Didn't you see him on your way in?"

"No. I was just focused on getting inside."

"Ralph! Come quick!" her mother shouted toward the back door. "He was just putting some," a furtive look behind her. "Ralph!"

Then there was a shape in the door, "Thelma? What's all the fuss?" It was her father. Illuminated by the bright light from outside. 

"It's your daughter. Our little girl. She's home."

It took her father only a few long strides to reach her, and when he did he had his turn at the endless embrace. Then he too stood back. "Let's get a look at you." 

She gave them a twirl, as light on her feet as she ever had. "Oh mommy, daddy. It's so good to be back here again."

The three of them stood in the center aisle of the drug store, dabbing at their eyes. It was her mother that spoke up first. "Promise me you won't go away again."

"Never," she promised. 

And she never did.