Sunshine and Barbecue

The Texas sun casts a warm glow upon Scarlett. She anchors herself to a grassy mound near a willow tree. It’s drooping branches sway in the summer breeze as it’s roots entangle in the salty lake by the shore. A book and journal in hand; she resonates on the stillness after the wind's previous fury.

A sandy lake, a most desirable alternative when the sea lies too far away. Salt air drifting on the breeze, fine sand beneath bare feet, waves that come and go in their unhurried rhythm. In the distance, children's laughter echoes and dissipates, carefree and bright against the commotion of rustling leaves. The scent of barbeque drifts through the air, pouring into her senses like a nagging invitation. She inhales letting the smoky sweetness settle over her, and a flicker of longing stirs somewhere beneath her ribs. She envisions delicious hot meat, steam rising from its surface, lathered in the burgundy-brown sauce, she can taste the tangy flavor—For a moment, she simply rests there, caught in between savoring the scene and diminishing hunger.

Kayakers and paddle boarders glide above the water's surface, while tubers float lazily nearby. Their laughter meshes with the children's across the lake. The barbeque aroma strikes once more, awakening a deep hunger for meat smothered in spicy sauce, and her stomach rumbles. It's settled, barbeque for tonight. Her lips curve into a cheesy grin.

Evening approaches slowly and the beaming sun begins its descent. Rosy pink and tangerine hues stretch across the sky spilling a reflection upon the lake waters. She feels a quiet peace settle over, gazing at the calm waves, nudging against the sandy shore. Departing the lake at Little Elm, Scarlett obeys the twenty-five mph sign with practiced ease. Her eyes— a mosaic of blue sapphire and emeralds—search the road ahead. There's a quiet determination in her. Barbeque restaurants; beloved fixtures of local culture dot the Texas landscape. It's simply a Texas thing, woven into the fabric of the evening as naturally as the sunset itself.

She enters a restaurant; the warm air surrounds her as she breathes in the aroma. Wood smoke, lathered meats, hints of cracked pepper and tangy barbecue sauce fill her nose evoking hunger. She scans the space, families and groups take over the wooden tables, their chatter and laughter sounding through the heavy air. Squeeze bottles of barbeque sauces clutter a condiment stand. The steel pits behind the service counter, release steam while the meat sizzles and staff hustle around each other. Smells like home.

The tender chicken surrenders as Scarlett, slices it into bite size pieces. She swirls it in the sweet-n-spicy sauce, shifting the tin plate before savoring each mouthful. Her metal fork punctures green beans soaked in buttery sauce, then spoons creamy macaroni and cheese. Condensation beads down her plastic cup, leaving a ring on the table as she lifts it to her lips. The icy tea washes away the tangy flavors with its sweetness. She reaches for her phone, her eyes sharpen viewing the glowing screen.

Her fingers tremble slightly as she types, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. "Mom, I think I drove by a tornado. I was terrified. My GPS took me down a back road, away from civilization, nothing but open fields and plains, when the wind suddenly picked up. A loud whining and rumbling, distinct and unlike anything I've heard, appeared to my right, some ways behind me. My hands were shaking on the wheel, but I quickly exited away, fortunately."

"Oh my goodness, I'm so glad you are okay!" Margaret replies "We will see you soon, dear. We love you. Please drive safe and call us the moment you're home."

Scarlett releases a slow exhale reading her mother's words twice before setting the phone down. The memory brings a fresh wave of stress to her mind, her stomach dropping as though she's reliving the moment all over again. Her heart throbs in her throat, and a faint shakiness returns to her hands, betraying the calm she wishes she could feel. She closes her eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath, and pictures her mother's voice; steady and warm, grounding her. She quickly solidifies her nerves, shrugging the stress from her shoulders reclaiming an inner calm. Resiliency. It has always been her anchor in moments like these, the quiet strength she inherited from years of pushing through fear rather than letting it consume her. She exits the restaurant gazing at the horizon, half-expecting to see a dark funnel cloud but the sky ahead is clear. With a steadying breath, she shifts the car into drive and continues on, determined to make it home.

After the plane ride and baggage collection, she finally stands in the parking garage, legs still stiff from the flight. It feels as though a lifetime has passed, though only a week has gone by. Her truck waits for her in spot twenty-eight. It’s burly tires and tall frame, dominates the rows of ordinary sedans. Her fingers trace the dust collecting against the aquamarine fiberglass.

She climbs in, tossing her bag onto the passenger seat, and starts the engine. It rumbles to life beneath her, a low, comforting growl that she feels in her bones. For a moment, she simply sits there, hands on the wheel, breathing in the familiar scent of worn leather and dust. Then she pulls out of the garage, merging onto the highway that will carry her home.

Scarlett guides her truck towards the countryside darkness, winding through hilly roads; her beaming headlights surrender to the open sky. The stars emerge one by one overhead, scattered across a blanket of black. For a moment Scarlett forgets how tired she is, gazing at the moon. She arrives at the RV park at last, the familiar entrance sign catching her headlights like an old friend waving her in.

Her tires roll over the gravel dirt road, jostling her with a bumpy ride, each pothole and stone a small reminder that she's almost there. She grips the wheel a little tighter, her mind drifting between exhaustion and anticipation, unsure which one will win out first. Memories of past arrivals flicker through her thoughts—the quiet nights, the smell of mesquite smoke, the sense of belonging she only ever finds out here. She exhales slowly, letting the tension of the drive begin to loosen its grip on her shoulders.

Dust smothers her truck as she returns to the Texas hill country, back to her RV, back to something that feels like home even if it's only temporary. The drive has left her shoulders stiff and her eyes gritty, but the familiar bend in the road brings an unexpected ease, a loosening she hadn't realized she needed. A half-occupied grassy and dusty parking lot spreads before her, holding a scattering of RVs hooked up to power boxes and septic lines, their windows glowing faintly with the light of people already settled in for the night.

Somewhere nearby, a dog barks twice and falls silent, and the low hum of a generator threads through the night air like a lullaby she's grown accustomed to. She sees her own spot waiting empty at the far end, and something in her chest loosens—relief, maybe, or the quiet joy of returning to a place she's chosen for herself. It isn't much, just a patch of gravel and a hookup. Not owned. Rented and hers in a way few things have been these past weeks. She lets herself linger on that thought as she eases the truck forward, already imagining the kettle on the stove and the quiet hours ahead.

Her feet, one by one, climb the outstretched metal stairs leading to her home on wheels. She opens the door, her brown leather tote braced over her shoulder and her suitcase gripped tightly in her hand. The familiar creak of the hinges greets her like an old friend. Scarlett gently releases her belongings by the door, races to freshen up, then plops down on her bed. Her own bed—not a hotel bed shared by countless strangers before her, dressed in luxurious sheets that smell faintly of bleach and other people's lives. This bed belongs to her alone, with its shabby chic look, the quilt slightly frayed at the corners and the pillows molded to the shape of her own sleep. She sinks into the mattress and lets out a breath she didn't realize she's been holding, savoring the quiet of home settling back into her bones.