Runaway

I don’t know what’s coming down harder right now, the rain or my tears. If someone had asked me five years ago if this would be my life today I would have laughed in their face. But as I’ve learned over the last few years, the world doesn’t spin on our time and plans are made to be destroyed. So here I am with a broken heart driving down I20 from Atlanta back to Alabama in the middle of the night headed home to momma. When I called home a few hours ago to ask if I could come home for a few days, it took every ounce of control to keep my voice steady. But mommas always know when something ain’t right with their babies, and when it comes to mine you can't hide nothin'. She knew immediately that something was wrong. Thank God she had the sense not to ask. All she said was “anytime baby girl”. So I got everything I could grab, including my dog, in a matter of minutes and threw it in the car, and hit the road. You might be wondering what could cause a grown woman to run home to momma in the middle of the night, and if you’ve lived a little then you probably already know it's all to do with a damn man. And the damn man in this case just so happens to be my soon-to-be ex-husband. That reminds me, I need to call a lawyer in the morning. Cause lord knows I ain’t staying married to that asshole another minute longer than necessary. I always liked my daddy's last name better anyhow. At one time I had thought the man hung the moon in the sky. We met in our early twenties while in college. He was handsome and from an old southern family with more money than god. His daddy graduated from Vanderbilt and his family was from Nashville. His name was Andrew Bradford and he was a bit of a disappointment to the family because he went to Auburn rather than Vandy after high school. But he used to say he wouldn’t have it any other way, otherwise, we would never have met. I thought it was so sweet how he loved me even though I came from a poor upbringing in rural Alabama, while his whole family was more accustomed to the finer things in life. It truly felt like I had found my prince charming. He was always kind and never judged my family for how little we had. Almost sounds like a fairytale in the making. After we graduated, we both took jobs in Atlanta, looking to start our future and family. He wanted to be independent of his family and their need to control his life and I was willing to follow him anywhere. We got married right before we moved to Atlanta. My family, as well as his, being more traditional, didn’t like the thought of us shacking up and since we knew we wanted to be married we didn’t see the point in waiting any longer. So at 25 we said I do, packed our things, and moved to Atlanta. Fast forward to tonight. It’s just after midnight and I’m finally pulling down the drive to my childhood home. Of course, momma left the front porch light on, and since I kept my house key there’s no need to get the one hidden in the flowerpot. I try to sneak in as quiet as possible with Charlie, my German Shepard on my heels. But momma’s little schnauzer hears us come through the door and goes nuts barking and carrying on. About the time I think I’ve got the little grey bastard quite here comes momma around the corner with the shotgun. Luckily as soon as she sees me she sets it to the side and comes running to give me the kind of hug only a momma can give. I didn’t realize how much I needed that hug until that very moment. Just when I thought I had cried all the tears my body could hold, the flood gates open and a fresh current breaks through. Momma grabs me by the shoulders and holds me at arm’s length and takes a good long look at me. And in her own loving, if not overly honest at times way, she tells me I look like s**t. I couldn’t help but laugh, leave it to her to state the obvious. She pulls me in again and wraps her arm around my shoulder and walks me to the kitchen. Momma believes every problem can be solved with a cup of coffee and a heart-to-heart. So she leads me over to the window seat to sit down while she heads over to the kitchen counter and gets busy making a pot of coffee. As always, she has to stop midway through to greet Charlie, her “grand dog”, as she calls her, and give her a treat. Once the coffee is made, she pours me a big cup and mixes my cream and sugar just how she knows I like it. We’ve sat quietly for the last 15 minutes sipping coffee and just letting the coffee warm our bodies. Finally, she looks me in the eyes and asks, “Is it over between y’all?”. I knew she would get straight to the point, she never believed in beating around the bush. “Yes momma, it's over. Not for lack of loving him, but for lack of him still loving me”, I say. She purses her lips, reaches out to grab my arm and shakes her head, and says “I’m here for whatever you need”. “Momma, right now I need a shower and a long night's sleep. Then tomorrow I’ve got to make a plan for how I go forward from here” I say. We sit for a little while longer sipping our coffee and once my cup is empty I take it to the sink, kiss my momma on the cheek good night and head off to my old bedroom. When I opened the door, I see she had come in here earlier and folded down the bed and laid out a fresh towel for me to shower. I can't help but smile at the thoughtfulness. I quickly make my way to the shower and take a quick shower before slipping into a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt. Finally, Charlie and I climb into bed and curl up together for a nice long rest.