Tyler and Jessica

You are Tyler Cobb, twenty-seven years old. A fit, dark-haired young man with a solid tech job in the city. You were born in the small town of Cornflower Fields. Your father, Mark Cobb, now fifty-five, was the sheriff. Your mother, Karen Cobb, now fifty, was a doctor.

Your parents divorced ten years ago, when you were seventeen. You left Cornflower Fields with your mother and moved to the city. You went to college, graduated, built a career, and now you’re thriving.

Your father remarried a year after the divorce.

His new wife, Jessica, is much younger, one of your former high school classmates. She’s twenty-seven, the same age as you. It’s strange to think of someone your own age as your stepmother, but that’s the reality of it. You heard they had two children together, a son and a daughter, but you never met your half-siblings until now.

Ten years after leaving, you return to Cornflower Fields. Standing on the porch of your father’s house, you take a breath before knocking.

The door opens.

“Hello, Tyler. You look well,” your father says.

Mark Cobb has aged in the last decade. His once thick blond hair is now short and thinning. He used to be fit from years on the ****, but now a small gut presses against his blue button-up shirt. He still carries himself with the same steady presence, though, one arm resting around his young wife, the other draped protectively over his daughter’s shoulder. His smile is warm, if a little tired.

“I’m so glad you came to visit,” Jessica says brightly.

She looks almost unchanged from high school, long, bright orange-red hair framing her face, green eyes lively and confident. She wears a yellow-and-white striped top and patterned pants. Standing close to your father, she rests one hand lightly against his midsection, smiling directly at you. There’s an ease to her posture, like she belongs exactly where she is.

“This is Dean, your younger half-brother,” your father says, guiding the red-haired boy forward. “He’s eight.”

Dean has short orange-red hair like his mother and green eyes to match. He wears a bright green T-shirt and stands straight, studying you with open curiosity.

“And this is Nancy, your younger half-sister. She’s six.”

Nancy stands at your father’s side in a sleeveless floral dress. Her light blonde hair falls neatly around her shoulders, and her soft features echo your father’s. She smiles shyly, leaning slightly into his arm.

Jessica gently nudges the children. “Say hi to your older brother.”

“Hi, Tyler!” Dean and Nancy say together.

For a moment, standing there on the porch, looking at this new version of your family, you feel something settle in your chest.

Maybe this is what coming home feels like.