Long Way Home (18 page)

Once clean and presentable, Alexis made her way downstairs and peeked into the family room. Presents in varied cheerful wrapping paper sat beneath the tree. Her father watched Fox News while slurping a cup of coffee.

“Merry Christmas, Dad.”

He glanced up at her, uncertain. “Merry Christmas. Betsy’s brood will be here soon for brunch. They always come for Christmas brunch and dinner.”

The implication seemed to be that Alexis did not.

“Is Mom in the kitchen?” she asked, brushing off his remark. It was Christmas and she was surrounded by family. She would not be baited into any arguments.

“Where else would she be?”

Her father returned his attention to the television, so she hesitantly moved into the kitchen where her mother’s arms and legs were flying in a cooking frenzy.

“Grab me that pan, will you, dear?” Alexis dutifully retrieved the pan from the end of the counter and handed it to her mother. “Once they get here, it’s action stations. I try to do as much as I can ahead of time.”

“I’ll set the table.”

“That would be helpful. Thank you.”

Alexis began collecting dishes and cutlery for the table.

“I’m making roast beef,” Tilly informed her, “but Betsy’s bringing a broccoli and cheese quiche. I hope that’s okay.”

“Perfect, thank you.” Alexis was moved by her mother’s consideration. If she had refused roast beef as a teen, she was certain her parents would have made her sit at the table until she ate it, however long it took.

“How do you normally spend Christmas?” Tilly asked tentatively.

“I used to spend it with Mark’s family.”

“This year will be hard for them, then.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Alexis knew that the Steamers were spending this Christmas with Mark’s aunt and uncle so they wouldn’t be alone.

There was a rush of activity at the front door and they realized that Betsy and her clan had arrived. As quick as a flash, Owen materialized in the kitchen.

“Merry Christmas!” he said, bouncing up and down with such force that Alexis wondered how many cookies he managed to sneak before breakfast.

Tilly gave him a hurried kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, dear. Now don’t be underfoot.”

Owen moved on to Alexis. “Can I help?”

“Sure. Here.”

She handed him some forks. He put them on the table and proceeded to make a design with them instead of setting the table. Tilly glanced over.

“Owen, none of your foolishness. Put them by the plates, please.”

Owen’s small face crumpled. He gathered up the forks and did as he was told.

Alexis leaned over and whispered, “I thought it was a beautiful design.”

The little boy beamed at her. They finished the table and Owen took Alexis’s hand and dragged her into the family room.

Brian was in the process of picking up each gift and shaking it. He made multiple guesses as to what was inside. Then, in the far corner, he spied a scooter with a big red ribbon on it.

“No way! It’s exactly the one I wanted.”

Alexis shot her sister an uneasy glance as Brian read the tag.

“It’s from Santa!” he announced.

Owen looked puzzled. “Why would Santa leave us presents here? He knows where we live.”

“Sometimes Santa makes a mistake, but he can’t turn back because he’s on a schedule, so he leaves a gift where you’re sure to get it,” Alexis explained.

“Santa’s a genius!” Owen gushed.

“He’s not a genius if he makes mistakes, dummy,” Brian said.

“Brian, don’t call your brother names,” Joe said sternly.

Alexis gestured toward the right side of the tree. “Owen, I think he may have left something for you, too.”

Owen rushed to the tree and scoured the gifts. He pulled out a book-shaped present. “This one says Owen! Can I open it, Mom?”

Betsy nodded and Owen tore away the paper.

“It has dinosaurs! What does it say?”

Betsy leaned down to read the cover. “I Wonder Why the Dodo is Dead and Other Questions About Extinct and Endangered Animals.”

“Awesome!” He hugged the book to his chest and Alexis sighed inwardly, pleased with her purchase. Betsy’s expression toward her sister softened.

“Elmo!” Joey cried.

Joey pulled out an Elmo DVD and talking Elmo doll from under the tree. He started squeezing Elmo’s belly and laughing when Elmo talked. Joe beamed, taking pleasure in his son’s enjoyment.

“I thought you were going to get me something,” Brian said to Alexis.

Alexis ruffled his hair. “I need to get to know you better first so I don’t buy you some lame gift. I’ll do better next time. When’s your birthday?”

“May thirtieth.”

“I’ll do better May thirtieth then.”

Brian gave her a big smile and returned to his scooter.

“Look, Santa left something else here,” Alexis said, plucking a small, wrapped box from under the tree and handing it to Betsy.

“Really?” Betsy asked. “Wow, my first adult Christmas gift from Alexis.”

“Well, it’s not a handmade tree ornament. I hope you’re not disappointed.”

Betsy laughed, remembering Alexis’s efforts at crafting Christmas ornaments out of salt dough and ribbons. “I might still have a few of those.”

Betsy reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a package for Alexis. The wrapping paper was decorated with reindeer and covered in green and red tape.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you had some help wrapping this,” Alexis remarked with a smile.

“Where would Santa be without his elves?” Betsy replied as she tore off the wrapping paper. “Oh, Alexis. You shouldn’t have.”

It was a gift card for Salters, the nicest shop on the island for home décor.

“I didn’t want to choose for you,” Alexis explained. “I thought we might go together, though, so I can see the type of things you like.”

Betsy clasped the gift card to her chest. “Thank you, Alexis. That’s a great idea.” She sighed. “Yours is so sweet, now I want to do mine over.”

Alexis began to unwrap her present. “I’m sure I’ll love it.” She pulled out a hand painted sign that read ‘You And I Are Sisters, Always Remember That If You Fall I Will Pick You Up…After I Finish Laughing.’ Alexis snickered.

“I had Debbie Facinelli make it for you. Do you remember her? She graduated with me. She’s got a handmade craft shop in Flamingo Key, near Gatsby’s.”

Alexis admired the sign. “Good for her. Was she the one who painted the principal’s golf cart with red hearts and rainbows?”

Betsy lit up. “Yes! He was so impressed with her work that he hired her to paint his daughter’s bedroom.”

The sisters smiled at the memory.

“I have one more thing for you,” Alexis said, pulling out a manila envelope and handing it to her sister.

Betsy opened the envelope and retrieved the papers inside. “Wow, this looks so professional.”

“Kinda what I do,” Alexis said with a shrug. “It was actually fun working on it.”

Betsy scanned the options, her brown eyes lighting up. “Is this for real?”

“Well, I will need hard numbers from your books and a valuation, but I did a little research so that I could come up with a few possibilities.” She smiled. “I think you could have your cake shop and eat it, too, if you really want to.”

Betsy threw her arms around her sister. “What an awesome Christmas present.”

“What is it, babe?” asked Joe from across the room.

“Thanks to my sister, I’m gonna be a mogul.”

“A mogul?” Joe echoed. “Sounds expensive.”

Betsy rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you about it later.” She clutched the papers happily. “I’ll read these over as soon as I get some peace and quiet.”

“If any of it confuses you, call me or send me a text and I’ll explain.”

Betsy was more excited about this than the lace teddy Joe had given her earlier that morning. She decided to keep that fact to herself.

Hours later, Betsy’s brood was gone but their remnants lingered. Garbage bags full of wrapping paper and ribbons. Cups and dishes. Tilly rested on the couch with a cup of tea, unwilling to tackle the mess around her yet. Greg napped noisily in his chair. Alexis emerged from upstairs and wandered into the kitchen for a drink.

“Tea’s already made.” Her mother’s voice came from behind her.

Tilly handed her a cup and Alexis sat down at the table. A large, wrapped box with a red bow sat in the middle of the table.

“What’s this?”

“Your Christmas present.”

Alexis looked at her mother. Even though it was Christmas, she wasn’t expecting anything. Slowly, she unwrapped the gift to reveal a cardboard box full of papers. She poked through and something looked familiar. Eagerly, she pulled out a red notebook.

“My poetry notebook. I assumed you tossed it years ago.”

“No, it’s been here all along.”

Alexis paged through the notebook, then poked her nose enthusiastically back into the box to see what else Santa had brought. She pulled out an award certificate.

“First prize in the poetry contest junior year.”

“They’re all there,” Tilly told her. “Every award. Every achievement of yours that we apparently don’t value or support.”

Alexis was almost reduced to tears wading through the papers. Each one held special significance for her.

“I didn’t think you cared about this stuff.”

“Well, they came from you, dear. They’re part of who you are. I never dreamed it would be so many years before I would return them to you.”

As Tilly fought back tears, Alexis gently placed a hand on her mother’s back.

“We did our best, Alexis,” her mother sniffed. “I wish I could’ve been the kind of mother you wanted, but I’m so glad you’re here now.”

Seeing her mother on the verge of tears, Alexis felt horrible. Despite recent evidence to the contrary, the MacAdams family did not produce tears easily. She realized how terribly ungrateful she seemed to her parents. She’d spent so much time feeling aggrieved, a victim of her surroundings, she hadn’t considered how her attitude had affected her parents.

“Thank you for this,” she said. “It means a lot.” She picked up the red notebook and started to read through it from the beginning.

“Why don’t you read a few of them to me?” Tilly suggested.

“Really?” She paused. “They’re probably awful. What sounded dramatic at sixteen will probably sound ridiculous now.”

“I’ll take the risk,” her mother told her and patted the chair beside her.

Alexis sat down and began to read.

Chapter Sixteen

When Alexis emerged from her bedroom the next morning, she was surprised to see her father already seated at the kitchen table. She checked her watch; it was seven o’clock.

“Are you feeling okay, Dad?” she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Fit as a fiddle or, in my case, more like a cello. Why?” He picked up a pencil and scribbled something down.

“It’s finally a chance to sleep in, yet here you are.” Alexis peered over his shoulder to see what he was doing. “A crossword?” she asked in disbelief.

“What’s wrong with that?” He pulled the crossword book closer to him, protecting it from her view.

“Nothing. I just don’t remember you enjoying crosswords.”

“I didn’t know I liked them until a few years ago. Joey’s school had a fundraiser selling books and I wanted to get something, you know, to show support.”

“And you chose a crossword. Interesting.” Alexis retrieved a mug from the cupboard and poured herself a cup of coffee.

“It’s not interesting,” Greg insisted. “You used to spend hours doing crosswords, if I remember correctly.”

“I did.” She smirked. “And, as I recall, you used to make fun of me. Told me to learn a real skill, like handling a saw.”

“Well, now I can do both. How about you?” His blue eyes twinkled and she knew he was teasing her.

She pulled out a chair and joined him at the table. “No work today, then?”

He shook his head. “I took the whole week off. Merry Christmas.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“She’s sleeping in for a change.”

“Good for her. She worked hard yesterday.”

“What’s a six-letter word for a medicinal tree?” he asked.

“Acacia,” she answered after a brief pause.

He filled in the crossword. “Did you know your mother and I have been married for forty years?”

“This year?”

“May.”

Alexis sipped her coffee. “Any special plans?”

“I was thinking of taking her on a trip.”

Alexis nearly spat out her coffee. Her father was voluntarily planning a trip? “Wow. To where?”

“Thought you might have a recommendation.” He completed another answer in the crossword.

She waited for a snide remark about all her fancy travels but none came. “Hot or cold?” she finally asked.

“Not too cold. We’re not Eskimos. Not too far, either. I don’t want some eight- hour flight over an ocean. No offense.”

“None taken. They’re not much fun.”

“What are your plans for today?” he asked.

“Nothing this morning, but my friend is taking me to Verde Beach later today.”

“Nice beach. Peaceful. I like to fish there sometimes.”

“I haven’t been since ninth grade when we took a class trip to watch the birds.”

“Eagles, osprey, heron. You get all sorts there. Protecting that part of the island is something the government actually got right.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She felt a political rant coming on.

“Your friend is from school, right? Tyler?”

Alexis nodded, surprised once more that he didn’t follow his usual verbal path. “He’s a really talented musician.”

“Been watching him play, huh?” He tapped the pencil on his temple. “An eleven letter word? Oh, c’mon.” He pushed the crossword out of reach in annoyance.

She pulled the page toward her to read the clue. “Good one,” she said, smiling. “It’s portmanteau. I learned that word from a book.”

“One of your hundred dollar college books?”

She pushed the crossword back over to him. “Nope. Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll. I read it right here when I was a kid.”

“Seems I should have been more interested in what you were up to. Do you think Owen would like that book?”