Page 56 of Chasin' Cole

Not everythin' grows only in the light. Sometimes, like me, we grow in the darkness, too.

I grab my phone and check my email. I check it at least 15 times a day, hopin' Cole might send somethin'. He hasn't. Not a single letter or note. Nothin' to let me know he's alive and doin' well.

He doesn't owe you anythin', Rose.

What if it takes him five years to come home? Could I forgive him? Would I be willin' to?

He left because he had to. He didn't have to break my heart, though. He didn't have to break up with me. I would have waited. One year.Ten. Whatever he needed, I would have waited. And I know it wouldn't have felt like waitin'. It would have felt like workin' toward somethin' good and right.

I put the truck in drive and head east.Home. Except it doesn't really feel like home anymore. It feels familiar, but my home is in another place. Travelin' or filmin' or...I don't even know. I don't know where he is or how he's doin'.

The miles pass by my window as I drive. I drive through mountains, cities, and miles of empty highway. I drive past places I've never seen before, rolling hillsides, and hundreds of wind turbines. I stop when I need gas. I stop when I need to eat. But I just keep drivin', prayin' the tears don't fall.

I can smell the Oklahoma border before I can see it. Wet grass. Hard earth. Muggy air. It's hard to explain, but once you smell it, you know where you are.

Mama's standin' on the front porch, the yellow light makin' her glow when I pull in. She waves at me as Howard appears next to her. I hop out of the truck and stretch my arms over my head. I've done a lot of drivin' over the past three weeks. Drivin' to places I've never been. Seein' sights I've never laid eyes on. Even though we don't have the best relationship, I like the view from Mama's driveway. She's smilin'. She never smiled when she was married to Rowdy.

"Rose!" Mama calls. "You're home!"

I jog over to the front porch and into my parents' embrace. They hold me tight as the sun slips behind the miles of open pasture.

"Come inside," Mama says excitedly. "I have a pot of coffee on."

Howard and I sit at the table while Mama pours us all a cup. She carries them to the table and sets one down in front of me.

"So," Howard leans forward, his gray eyebrows raisin' as he peers over his mug at me. "What was the best part of your trip?"

I take a soberin' sip. "I liked seein' new places."

"How was Nashville?" Mama sits up straighter. "I've always wanted to go there."

Howard reaches out a hand and rests it on top of hers. "Then we'll go for your birthday."

Mama smiles again. "I'd love that."

"Too many people there for me," I tell her. "But I liked this little mountain town in Colorado I stayed in. The pine trees smelled so good."

"Did you get to see Yellowstone?" Howard turns his attention back to me.

"I did," I grin. "It was...I don't even know how to describe it's beauty."

"We are so happy you're home, Rose," Mama exhales. "But I'm glad you finally did somethin' for yerself."

"I wish I had done it sooner," I hitch a shoulder, "but I don't think I was ready."

"Well," Howard pushes back his chair. "We all have an early mornin' tomorrow. What do you say we let Rose settle back in, Mary Ellen? We can hear more about her trip later."

Mama stands. "I'm glad you're home, Rose."

"Me too, Mama."

As they disappear down the hallway, I hear a ding on my phone. I can't imagine who'd be tryin' to get a hold of me this late in the day, so I finish my cup of coffee before washin' it in the sink and settin' it on the counter to dry.

The moment I shut my bedroom door, I plop down on my bed. My comfortable, warm bed. I slide my phone out of my pocket and stare at the screen.One new message. It's an email.

I click on it, my eyes widenin' when I see who its from.

Since I know you'll worry, I thought I'd send you an email to let you know he's fine.

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