The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the open road as Chandler drove along the quiet highway. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, humming to himself while scrolling through his playlist. Next to him, Macy sat with her arms tightly crossed, her gaze fixed out the window, ignoring him completely.
The air between them was thick with tension. Chandler, ever the optimist, refused to let it bring him down. With a triumphant smile, he found the song he was looking for and pressed play. The familiar tune of “Take Me Home, Country Roads” filled the car, and he immediately started singing along.
“Almost Heaven…” Chandler sang, shooting a hopeful glance at Macy.
She didn’t react. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her body stiff. Undeterred, Chandler turned the volume up and sang louder.
“Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong…” he belted out with a grin, hoping to pull her into the moment.
“Turn it down,” Macy muttered, barely audible over the music.
Chandler ignored her and kept singing, determined to lift her mood. But Macy had enough. With a sharp motion, she reached over and shut the music off, plunging the car into silence.
Chandler blinked, glancing at her in confusion. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”
Macy sighed heavily. “It’s not you… I’m just not in the mood for songs. You know why.”
“Because of my mom, right?” Chandler’s voice softened. “It’s just for the weekend, dear.”
Macy’s frustration bubbled over. “She hates me! Everything I do is wrong. The way I cook, the way I clean, how I talk, how I dress… I can’t even breathe without her criticizing me.”
Chandler reached for her hand, but she pulled away. “I don’t know why she does it,” she added quietly.
“We can’t change the direction of the wind…” Chandler said, giving her a small smile.
Macy sighed, knowing where he was going with this.
“…But we can adjust the sails,” he finished, his smile growing.
Macy hesitated, then reached out and pressed play. The song started again, and this time, she softly sang along. Chandler grinned, and for a moment, the tension melted away.
When they pulled up to Linda’s house, Macy frowned at the sight. The lawn was overgrown, weeds sprouting through cracks in the pavement. The house had an air of neglect.
“I’ve offered so many times to hire someone to help her,” Macy muttered.
“You know she won’t accept help,” Chandler replied. “She wants to do everything herself.”
“Yes, yes, the mighty Linda,” Macy said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
Chandler shot her a warning look. “That’s my mom.”
“I know. But she’s alone here…” Macy trailed off.
The front door swung open, and Linda stepped out, wiping her hands on her apron. “Chandler, what took you so long? The food is getting cold. Come in, quickly.”
Chandler smiled. “Hi, Mom. We’re coming.”
Macy forced a polite smile. “Hello, Linda.”
Linda gave her a quick, unimpressed glance. “Oh. You came. Welcome.”
Macy felt her stomach tighten. Here we go again, she thought.
Inside, the dining room was set beautifully, the aroma of homemade stew filling the air. Chandler and Macy sat down as Linda served them, her expression neutral but her energy heavy.
Chandler took a bite. “Mom, this is amazing. Just like when I was a kid.”
Linda smiled. “I know how much you love it, son. You probably don’t get meals like this at home.”
Macy stiffened. She forced herself to take a deep breath and let it go.
“Mom, Macy is a great cook,” Chandler said, trying to defend his wife.
Linda ignored him and suddenly reached over, wiping a small stain off Chandler’s shirt. “And I see she takes great care of your clothes too,” she said with a smirk.
Macy gritted her teeth. Her grip on her fork tightened, but she stayed silent. Chandler glanced at her with concern, sensing her growing frustration.
“I’m not really hungry,” Macy said abruptly, standing up. “I’ll go wash the dishes.”
Linda watched her leave with a critical gaze. “You see? Always running away.”
In the kitchen, Macy scrubbed the dishes furiously, her hands shaking. She heard Chandler’s voice from the dining room.
“Mom, you can’t keep talking to her like that. She’s my wife.”
“I’m your mother!” Linda shot back. “And I’m just telling the truth. She can’t even sit through dinner.”
Macy had enough. She stormed back into the room, her eyes blazing. “Oh, so we’re telling the truth now?”
Chandler tensed. “Macy, don’t—”
“No, it’s necessary!” Macy interrupted. She turned to Linda. “You want the truth? Fine. Your lawn looks like a swamp. I’ve offered to help, but you’re too proud to accept.”
Linda’s face turned red. “It’s none of your business how my lawn looks!”
“Oh, but it’s your business how I cook? How I clean? How I dress? You’re just a bitter woman who pushes people away!” Macy’s voice cracked with emotion.
Linda’s eyes filled with tears. Chandler stood up. “Enough! Both of you!”
Macy grabbed her coat. “I’m done with this.”
“Where are you going?” Chandler asked, his voice desperate.
“Away,” Macy said. And she walked out, slamming the door behind her.
Macy took a taxi to her father’s old house. The place was dusty and abandoned, filled with memories. She wandered through the rooms, running her fingers over faded wallpaper, lost in thought.
Her phone rang. Chandler.
“Where are you?” he asked, worried.
“At my father’s.”
“Please come back,” Chandler pleaded. “I was wrong.”
“I will,” Macy said softly. “I just need time.”
After hanging up, she climbed to the attic. She sifted through old boxes, searching for something—anything to comfort her.
Then she found it.
A bundle of old letters, yellowed with age. She opened one and gasped.
They were from Linda. To her father.
Macy read them, her hands shaking. Linda and her father had been in love. Linda had written over and over, asking why he left her, why he never responded.
Everything made sense.
Macy’s presence reminded Linda of the man who broke her heart. The pain she directed at Macy was really old wounds reopening.
Macy wiped her eyes. She had to fix this.
She returned to Linda’s house, stepping inside quietly. Chandler and Linda looked up in surprise.
“Dear, I—” Chandler started.
Macy walked straight to Linda and embraced her. “Forgive me. And my father.”
Linda stiffened, then, slowly, she hugged Macy back.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. Years of resentment melted away.
In that moment, they both understood each other. And the healing finally began.
