Tires popped on gravel, and River gripped the wheel tighter and let up on the gas, navigating a sharp curve. The rear end fishtailed slightly. She had learned to drive on this very road and countless others like it in her dad's pickup, but it had been years. As she drove further along the old country road that led to her family's farm, the art of rural driving proved to be just like riding a bike, thank God. 

The heat of summer radiated off the ground in waves. River glanced in the rear view mirror. The air was cranked to the max in the car, but Jillian had insisted on having her window down. She sat with her head leaned against the frame, looking out, her long hair whipping wildly around her face but she didn't seem to care. 

River thought back to the days when she was her age. Even as she grew to be a teenager, one of her favorite ways to pass the time, to find peace, was to watch the fields; golden stalks of wheat bending and bowing together in their perfectly orchestrated dance with the wind. It was a harmony like no other she had ever witnessed in her life. She was always a little sad after harvest time.

Her stomach turned as she slowed and made her way round the final curve and there it was. Her parent's old farmhouse stood proudly on top of the hill. River turned at the rusted red metal mailbox, boards on the makeshift bridge clopped as they passed over the drainage ditch. The old weathered barn that set at the bottom of the hill was as grey as ever. Good to see her dad was still sticking to his guns about not painting it like her mom had always wanted.

She pulled in and parked under the ancient cottonwood at the base of the hill, next to her dad's pickup; a newer Ford, she noted. Crops must be doing well. No sooner did the car come to a complete stop did the back door open and Jilly jumped out. River climbed out and followed as she ran towards the three-board-high fence on the right of the barn that kept the livestock in. 

Jilly was grinning from ear to ear standing on the bottom rail of the fence, arms resting comfortably on the top one as she watched the goats and chickens roaming happily around the pen. Guilt strummed her heartstrings. Her daughter could have been experiencing this her whole life. They were here now. Can't change the past. But oh how she wished she could change some things.

After a few minutes, River heard the creak of the old screen door at the side of the house opening. Her heart pounded in her chest. The last time she'd seen her mother, it had been in the rear view mirror of her car, standing on the front porch, watching her leave. 

She looked up the hill to see her mom step out, drying her hands with a dish towel. She wore an apron over her jeans and sleeveless collared shirt, all staples in her wardrobe as far back as River could remember. Her hair, pulled back in a low bun, was still as brown as ever and River wondered if she had started dying it or if she truly hadn't gone gray yet. River tapped Jilly on the shoulder and she looked. To her surprise, her mom smiled, and waved.

"GRANDMA!" Jilly yelled and hopped down immediately, running up the hill and wrapping her arms around her Grandmother's waist for the first time.

River couldn't help but smile at the scene, despite the guilty strumming growing louder in her ears. She climbed the grassy hill and joined them, the smell of rosemary and roasted chicken growing stronger as she neared the house. Her mom's cooking had always been amazing.

Her mom straightened and looked at her, then back down at Jilly, patting her head.

"Hi, Mom," she greeted her carefully.

"Hello, River," her mom said cooly.

Ah. So this is how it's going to be.

"Good you're here. Now we can eat. I'm starving." Her Dad stood on the other side of the screen, grinning.

"Daddy," River breathed, and walked to the door, pulling it open. She was greeted with a big bear hug.

"Good to see you peanut," he said softly, then pulled back. "And you," he boomed, pointing a fat finger at Jilly. "Mini-peanut. Did you like them goats out there?"

Jilly nodded.

"Good. Cuz there's a new baby in the barn needing a name, but I just can't put my finger on what it should be. How about after we eat you go out there with me and help me figure it out?"

Jilly nodded again, wide-eyed. River beamed, amused that the one time her daughter was rendered speechless was the first time she met her grandpa. He was rather awe-inspiring. At least to River. And she was glad to see Jilly shared the opinion.

Her mom took Jilly's hand and led her inside the kitchen. "Come on, Jilly, you can help me butter the biscuits."

They sat around the round table in the kitchen, eating and chatting pleasantly, her dad filling them in on the latest with the farm, how crops had been good the past few years ever since the last drought they had almost took them under, and of course, the latest on his fellow farmers and their families. Her mom chipped in her two cents on the latter. She was never one to shy away from giving her opinion, especially when it came to how to live life the proper way.

After they'd filled their bellies, her dad patted his and announced he was ready to name a goat, taking Jilly with as promised. River wished silently that she could go along, rather than be stuck here alone with her mother on dish duty.