Anna closed her eyes and let her mind retreat into a calmer place.
Her mind usually took her back to Timber Creek.
Her parents still lived in the home they built when her mother was pregnant with her.
Images of her rural Nebraska upbringing entered her mind: Pink cowboy boots and Garth Brooks concert t-shirts.
Only a few acres of land separated Anna's house from her grandparent's. The gravel road that ran between was contoured to Prairie Creek. When Anna traveled the six hours to visit, she would walk the distance between the two houses, counting the rows of soybeans and corn. The number hardly changed year to year.
Lately she couldn't stop herself from sitting on the edge of the ditch and weeping on these walks. After a few minutes, she would get up and wide the tears, minding the dirt that accumulated under her fingers nails. She knew her mother would be waiting for her, sitting on the front porch watching the traffic on the highway, wondering why Jolene was heading into town at nine in the morning for the third time this week. She would have a diet Mountain Dew in her hand and her hair would still be wet from showering, looking co*katoo-like. She would be sitting in her robe, inviting Anna to sit next to her and watch the cars. She was sure aunt Sherry would be driving by soon in her new Jeep.
Her mother always spoke. She never asked Anna questions about her new life, her new job. Anna didn't mind so much anymore, though it used to bother her greatly. It allowed Anna to further escape. Her mother would go on for an entire episode of Antiques Roadshow about who's cheating who and who's quit their boss lately.
When Anna loaded up her 4Runner and headed back to her empty townhouse filled with unfamiliar smells, she would look in her rearview mirror for much too long. The silos filled with corn that helped to pay her student loans reflected the morning light. Her two Labradors, one golden and one black, ran in the yard, minding the electric fence keeping them from wandering into the highway. There was no electric fence keeping Anna back, no reason to stay here.
As the tears ran down Anna's face, she felt silly. She shouldn't miss home this much. She shouldn't miss her parents. She shouldn't miss the small town that she never left for eighteen years.
She was heading back West. She knew her kitchen table would be piled high with bills. No doubt there would be more in the mailbox. Her parents' mailbox only had Timber Creek's newsletter and possibly a graduation announcement from the neighbor boy next door.
Soon, Anna would snap out of her reverie and back to the situation at hand.