She's spared from making the awkward choice between knocking and just walking in by her son, who still sees this place as home. He throws open the heavy door without hesitation and bolts into the house, leaving her behind, alone on the doorstep of Southfork Ranch.
Southfork.
In the time she's been away, it's taken on almost a mythical quality in her memory and so today, looking through the front door, it feels like she's just discovered Narnia in the back of a drab, old wardrobe: magical, overwhelming, more than a little frightening, but a lot like coming home.
She enters the house and closes the door behind her. John Ross is out of sight now, though she can hear him running up the stairs calling out to Miss Ellie. She stays put in the foyer, not sure where to go or what to do.
The house, what she can see of it from here, looks much the same as she remembers. It's been repainted, some of the knickknacks and wall ornaments are different, but overall, not much has changed. Not much ever does.
She has, though. She can do this. She can be in this house and be with her family, because they are still her family, and not become ensnared by old weaknesses. Enough time has passed; she really thinks she's finally moved on enough to be comfortable here.
Behind her, the door opens again, and she turns to find a tall, dark-haired teenage boy walking in, backpack slung over his shoulder, headphones around his neck. He stops and stares when he sees her, mouth slightly agape in surprise.
"Sue Ellen?" he asks tentatively, setting his backpack on the floor.
"Christopher!" she exclaims. "My goodness, look at you, sweetheart. You're all grown up!" Walking over, she pulls him into a tight hug before stepping back and holding him at arm's length, examining him closely. Her little nephew has grown into such a handsome young man, tall and lean, with thick dark hair and warm hazel eyes that look uncannily like the ones she sees in the mirror each morning.
Her smile fades somewhat when she realises how stiff his posture is under her gaze, his face uncertain and it occurs to her that really, she's little more than a stranger to this boy. He hasn't seen her in more than half his life. Dropping her hands from his arms, she takes a half step backward out of his personal space.
This is her fault. How could she let it happen? She should have invited him to stay with them in London on school holidays, should have come back to Texas to visit occasionally, something, anything to keep up some kind of connection to the only blood relative she has left, apart from her own son.
As much as she wanted to escape her past when she left Dallas, in retrospect, it seems that perhaps she's done too thorough a job. She only needed to leave J.R. behind, not everyone and everything connected to him.
"Is John Ross here?" Christopher asks her now. At least her son has managed to maintain a relationship with his cousin, but of course, he's been back to Dallas many times over the years.
"Oh. Yes, he's here somewhere," she tells him. "I think he went upstairs to find your grandmother."
"Great. Thanks," he says, nodding awkwardly, moving away from her.
"Christopher," she says, stopping him. "Do you even remember when I still lived here, when you were a child?" She's hoping there's still something, some memory she can build on to help them re-form a relationship.
"Sort of," he says, turning back around, but not really facing her, his eyes on the floor. "Not really much. I know we all used to be a family."
From upstairs she can hear John Ross' feet thundering across the floor.
"Yes," she says, hiding her hurt at his use of the past tense. "Well. I suppose you wouldn't remember much. You were just a little boy."
"Yeah," he agrees. "I guess. Um, can I…?" He gestures toward the stairs.
"Yes, yes of course. Go." There's time, she tells herself as she waves him off. She's only just come back. She'll take him to dinner, just the two of them, just as soon as she gets settled.
He smiles gratefully. "John Ross!" he yells, sprinting for the stairs.
Halfway up, he pauses and looks back down at her.
"Hey, um, welcome home, Sue Ellen."
She nods. Welcome home.