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The Wedding Guest

Erica Ward walked down Main Street of the hometown she had left seven years earlier and was amazed and how very little had changed. It was spring. Kids were playing an impromptu game of soccer in the park. The dogwood and redbud trees were in full bloom. Old Jack, the hound dog that no one claimed but everyone fed was basking in the sun outside Mr. Henry's Barber Shop today. The windows of the fabric store and flower shop were decorated with spring bouquets and there was a sign in the window advising that prom corsages needed to be ordered early. Erica thought about her own prom, so many years ago, with a small amount of wistfulness. She had had so many dreams of leaving her small hometown for the big lights of the city, but now, years later, she felt such longing for a time when life had been so simple, carefree and happy. She wondered briefly how she could have ever wanted to escape this lovely little haven that she had now returned to, but, she had long since learned that it was futile to waste precious time living in regret. So, she quickly banished her what-if thoughts and concentrated on the utter enjoyment she felt being home again.

She walked for quite a while, past the high school, the hospital, the graveyard, and the church, which she noticed, was decorated for the wedding she had come home to see. Finally, she turned down the familiar, tree-lined street that led to the house where she had grown up

Like Main Street, nothing much had changed but the passage of time was quite evident. The Wilson kids were not out in the front yard playing this morning. Erika realized they were probably grown-up by now. You could barely see the Monroe's house for the trees that had actually been shorter than Erika had when they were planted.

Then suddenly she was in her own home with her mom and dad once more. It was the same, and very different. The sofa was recovered, there was a new plasma television replacing the old box style that had been there when she was kid. In addition to quite a few pictures of her that were decorating available wall and table space, some pictures of her younger brother Andrew, his wife and two year old son had been added to the mix. Mom had made several of her favorite dishes for lunch, including roast beef with carrots and potatoes and homemade buttermilk biscuits. Alison thought that possibly, she could spend the rest of her day just sitting in that kitchen, enjoying her mom and dad's company, and her mom's cooking, but she

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