Homecoming [fiction]

Sarah had difficulty dealing with the fact that she would be home soon, seeing her mother for the first time in almost four years. What would they talk about? Past discussions always turned into parental power struggles. Mom was “Mom, Authority Figure,” always right, always knowing best. Even last month when Sarah turned 26, she should have known Daryl was not the right guy to end up in bed with.

“When will you settle down?”

“When will you listen to your mother?”

“If only your father were still alive.”

Sarah hated that last statement most. Daddy had died when she was nineteen. It was heartbreaking without his love and encouragement, but she had managed her life well, had moved to New York, graduated college, and landed a good paying job at a bank.

“I am not talking about those things, young lady!”

Yes. Those other things. Some of them flew in the face of Mom’s Catholic beliefs.

Sarah stepped from the airliner, crossed the gray tarmac, and entered the airport. Mom would be waiting at the front door.

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