We turned off of the highway onto the side road, and I started recognizing some of the landmarks. My flight down had been delayed in Chicago, and we'd had to wait for the next flight after for my luggage to catch up with me, so it was quite dark as we weaved though the curves of the old country road, heading home.
Ashley and I had worked out that it had been six years since we'd last seen each other; we'd kept in touch of course in the intervening time with email and the occasional phone call, but it was still an awfully long time to go without seeing your own sister. Of course, for the first five years I'd had my own reasons for keeping away, and as for last year... well, I could understand if they weren't ready yet. It was a lot to deal with; I was still dealing with it myself.
We turned onto another, smaller road, long stretches of farmland dotted with country houses. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, stretched, and flipped the sunshade down again, peering anxiously into the mirror there. Same old face. There had been some changes over the last year or so (and what the pills hadn't done, a little makeup provided), but it was still me, looking as worn and ragged as I always do after a day of travel stress. I sighed, pulled my compact out of my purse, and started fixing my face before we got off the paved road.
Ashley smiled at me. "Nervous?" I shrugged a little, smiled wanly. She reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. "It's all right, hon. This is all a little new for us, but once they see you I think it will be all right." I nodded, remembering that night, a little over a year ago, when I finally broke down over the phone and told Mom everything: about the counseling I'd been getting, the hormone treatments, the way my body was changing. I even told her my new name. I don't remember the words I said, only that they came out in a flood, as if the pressure of the secret had been building up until it couldn't help but burst forth in a flood. We talked for quite a while afterwards, and when it was over I felt drained, but also like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. The worst was over, and it had gone better than I could have hoped.
I gazed out the window for a time, looking for the familiar. Not much had changed here: a few more signs, some new houses, larger and finer than the older ones I still glimpsed briefly in the headlights. I sat back, closed my eyes and remembered the last time I'd seen this place. It had been Ashley's graduation, and the whole family had come down. I remembered myself then, still scared and confused, making deals with myself, trying to compromise: anything to avoid dealing with who I was. Always the quiet one; always on guard. How long ago it all seemed.
One last turn, onto the gravel. It was all houses now, cozy den windows and the occasional early Christmas lighting marking our way. I stared out into the darkness, trying to collect myself. We were nearly home now. I kept telling myself it would be all right, that they knew what to expect, had known for a while. If they weren't ready, they wouldn'tve had me down, right? Of course, being told was one thing. Actually seeing it in the flesh...
We pulled up into the driveway. In the porchlight I could see a few figures silhouetted, waiting for us. There were bags to unload, things to collect, and then I stood in the light as Mom came off the porch and approached me. For a moment, we didn't say anything; she just looked me over, as if taking stock of this new person I had become. Then she smiled, stepped over to me and gave me a hug. "You look gorgeous," she said.
Inside, dinner was waiting. Dad took my suitcase and we went in. Everyone had come down for the holiday, and as we all sat around the table, passing dishes back and forth, I resolved never to stay away so long again. Independence is all very well, but sometimes, you just have to go home.