This story was inspired by a single line within an e-mail. My grateful thanks to the "big brother" who wrote that line.
Colleen slid out of the driver's seat of her baby blue VW Bug and slammed the door shut. She was instantly regretful and quickly looked to be sure the car was fine.
Geez Colleen, it's about the only possession of any value you have left
, she chided herself.
Don't take your frustration out on the car; it didn't do anything to you.
The Bug was fine and she gave it a small pat before turning and hurrying up the driveway toward the side entrance of the one-story brick-lined house in front of her. In a short dress and high heels, she wasn't dressed for the wintry cold evening. She pulled her leather jacket tighter against her body, cursing as she slipped and nearly fell on a patch of ice just in front of the short flight of stairs that led up to the kitchen door.
Her life had come crashing down around her six months ago, beginning with being downsized right out of her job and ending when her one-bedroom condo had been foreclosed upon. Tears threatened again, and she angrily brushed them away.
Thirty-one years old and forced to move back home!
Colleen had been supporting herself for the last eleven years. After graduating from high school, she was ready to move away from her small hometown in Nebraska, longing for the bright lights and excitement of a larger city. She and a friend decided they would pool their resources and move out together, maybe to Helena or Billings, go to beauty college during the day and waitress at night. Her mom and dad had freaked out, and even her big brother, who usually had her back, sided with their parents.
Colleen had given in to their wishes, continued living at home, and signed up for business courses at the local junior college. After obtaining an AA degree, she saw an ad on-line for an entry level position at an airline located in Billings, and submitted an application. No one was more surprised than she to be asked to come for an interview. She'd driven over to Billings, telling everyone that she was going to spend the week-end with a friend, had the interview and landed the job.
Saying goodbye to her small family had been the hardest thing she'd ever done, but she was longing to stretch her wings and fly. Her car packed to the gills, she and her mom nearly had to be pried apart, they were crying so hard. Her dad kept blowing his nose and telling her to be sure to call if she needed anything, anything at all. When it came time to say goodbye to her brother, they just hugged once awkwardly before muttering goodbye, and then she'd climbed into her car and drove off, still sniffling.
She found an apartment to share with another airline worker, and was still young enough and inexperienced enough to find her job exciting. Even when her supervisor stuck her in the missing luggage dept., and she got yelled at by frustrated passengers, she didn't lose her enthusiasm. At first, she was terribly homesick and ran up her phone bill calling friends and her mom nearly every night. But she was a young, single, attractive woman and soon her nights began to fill up. She didn't stop missing everyone back home, but as the strangeness of her new life faded, so did her homesickness.
The years passed quickly. She got promoted and her salary increased year by year. She made friends, had dates and a few boyfriends but no one serious, and she took advantage of the travel benefits her job offered and saw a bit of the world. All in all, not a bad life. Except that sometimes, as she lay awake next to her current boyfriend, or when she sat people watching in the park and a couple would walk by, totally engrossed in each other and oblivious to the rest of the world, a deep longing would hit her, almost painful in its intensity, a longing for that magic connection to one other person that a lucky few seemed to have.
