Breathing a sigh of relief, I strolled towards the luminescent light. My body was still shaking from the experience I had just been through.

The sun was well below the horizon by now, replaced by the beaming moon. I could barely make out the houses around me in the light. No one was outside; the silence made things eerie. But I finally managed to track down the correct house..

It had large arched windows and a bonny door that expressed itself in all seasons -- dark and somber in winter but hopeful and bright upon the return of the summer sun. But the garden seemed out of balance, overgrown beyond taming. The stems of the plants were tangled in the barbed wooden fence.

Through the quiet, I could hear a song playing from the outer part of the house that raised my spirits as I approached the front door.. The wind suddenly became still, and it sounded as if the world had paused to take a moment to breathe. In that split second, in the purity of the peace, I realize that I am finally safe at home.

Worried thoughts still haunted my mind, though.

What was I thinking?

Would he even recognize me?

But the biggest question was...

Would he still love me as he did years ago?

My arm hung at my side uselessly; it took all my might to lift it up and knock.

The vibrating sound of knuckles pounding against the wooden door of the house reverberated through the barren streets.

The door creaked slowly open, and a middle-aged man stood tall, blocking the view of the house.

"Oh, a Girl Scout! I'd love some mint chocolate cookies right now."

My eyes and mouth were both wide open. At first, I wasn't sure what to say.

"Um, I'm not..." I began, trying to explain things before he interrupted me.

"Aww man, no cookies?"

I folded my arms, giving him an irritated look.

"How can I help you, then?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. "It's me."

"As in?" he countered, but I could see the pending smile resurface, knowing he was aware of who I was.

He suddenly burst into a chuckle, slapping his knees as that smile illuminated his kindly face.

"I know, pumpkin. I was just joking. Plus, Girl Scouts don't come at 8 P.M.."

With a shocked expression and pinched lips I sighed, "How did you know I was going to come? I didn't think you'd recognize me."

His smile faded. "Come in first, Julie. You look so tired."

Accepting his offer, I hand him my luggage and walk through the door. The whole house is welcoming, from the open door to the wide hallway. Photographs of nature hung on the walls. The old-fashioned parquet floor was a blend of deep, homely browns, and the walls were as green as a summer garden. They stood out against the bold white baseboards. The banister was a wild, twirling branch tamed by the carpenter's skillful hand; its crevices flowed like water, in waves of comforting woodland hues. Under the lamplight, it seemed like a specimen of nature's art. The sight of it could soothe even the most troubled souls.

A centerpiece vase, resting on a nearby table, was beautiful in its simplicity. Just as a canvas is there to hold the art so lovingly applied, the vase held the flowers and allowed them to take center stage.

A grand piano rested in the corner, collecting dust. I edged closer to the instrument, stroking my fingers slightly on the keys and playing mellow, unmeasured notes.

"Do you play?" Dad inquired. There was a tinge of emotion in his voice.

I turned around. "I used to -- but not anymore."

He hummed in a low, continuous tune as he walked towards me.

"Am I doing a good job?" he whispered, I giggled, thinking this was another joke. But somehow, he seemed too serious to be kidding.

I looked away, suddenly unable to meet his heavy-lidded eyes.

Those greenish-brown eyes were so many colors, it made me wonder what the word "brown" even meant. They were simultaneously the forest and the autumn leaves, the soil in summer and the bark of barren trees in winter. I was spellbound to know that my eyes were the same mesmerizing shade.

"I-I didn't realize you played the piano." I awkwardly stated the obvious.

He scratched the back of his neck as a worried wrinkle formed in his forehead. "Your mother didn't tell you?"

I shook my head, confused. "Tell me what?"

He sighed heavily. "That was your mother's most prized possession, Julie. She used to play before you were born."

Wide-eyed, I tinkered with the keys again, imagining Mom playing this exact piano all those years ago. I sat down on the comfortable bench. The seat was made from durable yet soft foam and covered with leather. It was adorned with buttons that not only held the foam in place but gave an adorable pattern throughout.

"Wow," I purred. Everything about the instrument was simply breathtaking!

"She's a beauty, eh?" Dad remarked.

I nodded, flashing a crescent moon of a smile. "Yeah, mind if. . .?"

"Of course, honey -- it's yours now. I was actually going to sell it, even when I didn't have the heart to let it go."

"Because?"

He paused at the doorway, letting his eyes roam free around the room before running his fingers through his hair leisurely.

Finally he threw his hands up in the air with dismay. "I miss your mom. I-I miss her so much. That's why I didn't want to give this up." He patted the piano tenderly. "Reminds me of the happy days we spent together."

At that moment I didn't know whether to feel grateful or uneasy knowing that Dad still has feelings for Mom, but my arms automatically wrapped around him, and squeezed a little tightly. I breathed more slowly, letting my body melt into my dad's as every tense muscle surrendered to the light air. This wasn't a dream. This was life, real life.

"Thank you, Ju-ju," he said quietly, hugging me back.

"You still remember my nickname?" It was a rhetorical statement, but it sounded more like a question.

"How could I forget you? You were my everything. I regretted leaving you, but I had no other choice."

I let him go and turned away.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked in concern.

"No, no, it's just... this is kinda gonna take a while to get used to."

"Mm, well, you should take some shut-eye rest. I'm sure you're exhausted from coming all this way, which reminds me: your mom knows you're here -- right?"

"Um... kinda?" I hadn't given a thought about the consequences of running away.

He folded his hands, giving me a stern look.

"Ok, fine. She has no clue."

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers in a stressed-out way. "Julie, how could you be so careless? Your mother's probably devastated right now!"

"I know," I murmured. "I'm sorry."

He sighed again, something he did more than anyone I've known. "Ugh, I hope she doesn't sue me for thinking I had something to do with your disappearance -- she had just messaged me that she couldn't find you a few minutes before you showed up at my doorsteps -- what do you expect I to respond to her?" He narrowed his eyes at me, fidgeting with his silver ring.

"Mom's so melodramatic," I retaliated back in my defense.

"Dramatic or not, she's still your mom. I'll have you call her later, okay?" He hauled my luggage upstairs, leaving me stuck in a puddle of disoriented thoughts.

I didn't have a way to reason out with Mom, but I couldn't go back to Switzerland now. Not when freedom was so close, I could almost taste it. Besides, Dad seemed so lonely. I couldn't leave him behind.

I began to head upstairs when something small and furry leaped on me, pushing its body into mine as soon as I was close enough. In seconds my hand was covered in slobber, its sandpaper-like tongue dripping with every lick.

Its tail wasn't wagging side to side, but rather going round and round like a helicopter blade; any happier and I think those dinner-plate paws might've caught some air.

"Oh, hey," I greeted the bundle of fur.

The teddy-bear-sized canine rolled onto its back, indicating that it wanted attention. At first it was curious, but when I crouched down, it let out a high-pitched yip.

"I see you've met Trixie."

I laughed. "Nah, more like the other way around."

Dad joined me. "She likes you, you know," he remarked. "She's usually feisty and timid but apparently she's found herself a new scratching buddy."

"You don't say! She's so adorable, I could never say 'no' to her."

"Yeah, especially when she chews on the sofa," he sarcastically responded. "I set up your room, by the way. Do you want to see it?"

"Sure."

The room was like a perfect magazine cover. I was almost afraid to sit in case I wrinkled the fabric or stained it with something I didn't even know was on my pants.

The bed was cream colored but inlaid with a fine green silk; there were delicately embroidered leaves that looked like they might have landed there in spring and just sunk in, but I knew they took hundreds of hours to sew.

The linen curtains were white, the kind of pure, angelic white that was untouched by hands and devoid of dust. A cursory look to the right showed me the inconspicuous cords that were used to open and close them.

Unfortunately, though, there was no television or bookshelf like back at home and all my essencial belongings. I felt a bit alienated by this.

Black-and-white photographs adorned the walls. They weren't casual family snaps, but were instead so professionally arranged that none of them looked out of place.

The floor was a high polished wood, dark and free of dust and clutter.

"Wow, this -- this is perfect," I breathed.

Dad grinned. "Glad you like it. No one uses this room, and when I arrived at this house for the first time, this room came like this. Luckily it isn't a mess like the rest of the house."

I blinked back a tear. "Thank you so much, Dad. For everything."

"Julie -- you being here is the best gift I could ever receive." With those heartfelt words, he closed the door behind him, letting me sink into my new home, and leaving me speechless.

A/N

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-Varsha