Long Way Home

by Neve Cottrell

  Somehow even her mother’s compliments sounded like a putdown. Alexis was well aware that she’d lost a few pounds in the past year and a half, but she certainly wouldn’t be considered skinny. Those days were long behind her. Looking at her mother and Betsy, however, she realized that they’d both put on quite a bit of weight since she last saw them and that probably made Alexis look particularly slim to them. Her gaze drifted to the plates full of pancakes and cinnamon rolls and wondered whether they ate like this all the time or whether it was a holiday treat. Either way, she had no interest in changing her relatively healthy eating habits just because she was back at her parents’ house. After all, she had seventeen years of reprogramming under her belt.

  “So have you been anywhere really exotic?” Betsy asked. “You always wanted to travel.”

  “The Maldives were really beautiful,” Alexis said and immediately regretted it. She’d been to the Maldives on her honeymoon. It had been an amazing trip and she couldn’t bear remembering it now.

  “Where’s that?” asked Betsy.

  “A string of islands off the coast of India. Very private.”

  “Sounds like you,” Betsy said and it took all of Alexis’s willpower not to hurl a cinnamon roll at her sister’s head.

  “Did you go alone?” asked Tilly, clearly fishing for information. “That sounds dangerous to go somewhere so remote on your own. You always read about these solo women travelers getting raped or murdered.”

  Alexis rolled her eyes. “Mom, you don’t read anything of the kind. I’ve never seen you read a newspaper in my life.”

  “I’ve seen it online,” Tilly insisted.

  “Well, you’ll be relieved to know that I didn’t go alone,” Alexis replied and she caught the other two women exchange not-so-subtle glances. “How about you? Have you been anywhere?” She didn’t expect the answer to be yes, but she was desperate to change the subject.

  “You know your father doesn’t like to travel,” Tilly responded. “Joe’s pretty much the same. Anyway, it would be difficult to travel with Joey.”

  Alexis noticed Betsy’s slight irritation at her mother’s mention of Joey. She suspected Betsy and Joe handled Joey’s condition much better than her parents did.

  “Joey probably wouldn’t like being confined on an airplane, but he wouldn’t mind a car trip somewhere.” Betsy took a long sip of her orange juice.

  “Well, maybe this summer,” Tilly said, picking up on Betsy’s frustration. “Joey gets two weeks, doesn’t he?”

  “Joey’s school goes all year round,” Betsy explained to Alexis. “He gets one to two week breaks throughout the year.”

  “Have you talked about what you’ll do when he’s older?” Alexis asked. “Will he be able to live independently?”

  Betsy shook her head. “Not Joey. Plenty of autistic people can, it depends on where they are on the spectrum. Joey’s not going to be one of them, though.”

  Alexis didn’t know what the appropriate response was for something like that. She longed to reach out and hug her sister, but it felt too unnatural.

  “Oh, he’ll be fine,” Tilly interjected with a dismissive wave of her hand and Betsy shot her sister a hopeless look.

  Alexis and Betsy’s most sisterly moments had involved shared frustration with their parents. As much as she wanted to be helpful to her sister, though, she had no leg to stand on. If her mother wanted to live in denial, who was Alexis to drag her back to reality?

  “Betsy,” Joe’s voice boomed from the family room. “How about some coffee?”

  “Okay,” Betsy called back. She pushed her chair back, but Alexis beat her to it.

  “I’ll make it,” Alexis volunteered.

  “You drink coffee?” Betsy asked.

  “You make coffee?” Tilly added.

  Alexis sucked in her breath as she retrieved a coffee filter from the cabinet and set to work. “You two act like I was some indolent slob who slurped tea all day and refused to help out around the house.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Tilly said.

  “Me neither,” Betsy chimed in. “I just didn’t know you drink coffee is all.”

  “It’s true I didn’t drink coffee in high school and I loved blueberry pancakes, but I hardly think people’s eating and drinking habits stay exactly the same their whole lives.”

  Alexis hit the start button and returned to the table, relieved to get that minor detail off her chest. It certainly didn’t bridge the gap of her seventeen-year absence, but it was a start.

  When Alexis finally wrapped up her visit to Betsy’s house, she was ready for a few hours of solitude before she ventured to Gatsby’s. She’d decided to accept Ty’s invitation while sitting in Betsy’s kitchen, listening to her father complain about the current government. His complaints hadn’t changed, just the names of the people at fault. The thought of sitting in her bedroom listening to her father yell at the television all night was unappealing, to say the least.

  Alexis felt nervous about going to see Ty play. What if, after all his talk of passion and a good life, he was a terrible musician? What would she say? Alexis wasn’t the best liar when it came to putting someone at ease. People skills were not her specialty. On the other hand, if he was terrible, he might look less attractive to her. That would be a bonus. Suddenly, a small part of her hoped that his musical talent would be nonexistent.

  By the time Alexis arrived at Gatsby’s, the bar was reasonably full without being too crowded. A few small tables housed couples while another handful of people stood around with drinks. She was relieved when no one showed a flash of recognition. She didn’t want to engage in mindless conversation, catching up with people she didn’t actually remember. She simply wanted to make good on her promise to Ty and get another breather from her parents.

  By the time she scored a drink at the bar and located a seat at a bistro table, Ty was already on the makeshift stage, strumming away on an acoustic guitar. A smile escaped his lips when he noticed Alexis in the audience of rapt listeners. She gave a small smile in return, her stomach inadvertently performing acrobatic feats. She cast her eyes downward, unwilling to feel a connection. Instead, she listened.

  His voice was smooth but sincere. To her, he sounded the way comfort food tasted. She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed listening to live music and Ty was surprisingly good. He wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes, either. As much as she tried to resist noticing his finer points, Ty’s hour on stage gave her ample opportunity to observe him when he wasn’t making eye contact with her. Alexis found herself fixated on his biceps as they struggled against a tight-fitting, black t-shirt. She straightened up, regaining her composure. Since when was she the kind of woman who drooled over biceps? Mangrove Island was having a primitive effect on her. She gave her head a tiny shake and shifted her gaze back to his face. When he winked at her, she nearly spat out her drink.

  “Aren’t you a lucky lady,” a voice commented and Alexis glanced up to see a petite waitress beside her. She wore her blonde hair pulled back in a tight, high ponytail and Alexis thought she looked like a cheerleader moonlighting as an adult.

  “What makes you think that was for me?” Alexis asked, embarrassed by the attention.

  “Well, it sure wasn’t for me,” she said wistfully. “I’ve made my move more times than I care to admit.”

  “We know each other from high school, so don’t feel too disappointed.”

  “You went to Wilson?”

  Alexis nodded. “Many moons ago. Ty and I graduated together.”

  The waitress sighed. “I wish I had gone to high school with Tyler. I would’ve scooped him up early.”

  “He’s still scoopable from what I understand,” Alexis said.

  The waitress put a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Honey, if I believed that were true, I would sure as hell keep trying, but all I’ve seen is a string of girls who end up in tears when they realize they can’t get their hooks in him. Heck, I’d settle for getting my hooks in hi
m for a single night.” She gestured toward Alexis’s empty glass. “Can I get you a refill? What was it, a whiskey?”

  Alexis handed her the glass. “It was, but I’m going to mix things up a bit. I’ll have a beer. I’ve heard there’s a microbrewery on the island now.”

  “Tropic Turtle. It’s real good. I’ll get you two.”

  Alexis wrinkled her nose. “One’s probably enough for me.”

  “It’s not for you,” she said, nodding toward Ty as she sauntered away. “He’s about to finish.”

  The waitress was right. By the time she returned to the bar, Ty finished his set as the crowd clapped and whooped appreciatively.

  “Thank you,” he said with a slight wave. He barely removed his guitar before making a beeline for Alexis. “You made it. I’m so glad.” He slid into the seat across from her, eager to hear her reaction.

  “You are really good,” Alexis blurted out.

  “You sound relieved.”

  She gave him a nervous smile. “I just didn’t know what to expect. It’s been a long time since I watched someone play.”

  “Too many billable hours?” he queried.

  “Something like that,” she said vaguely. “Your sound is very pure.”

  He looked pleased. “Pure, I like that. Thank you.”

  “So you wrote all those songs yourself?”

  He nodded. “Told you, it’s my passion.”

  “The crowd sure likes you.”

  “They’re mostly family members.” When her eye widened in surprise, he laughed. “Joking.”

  “The waitress definitely likes you,” Alexis whispered as the petite girl arrived with two bottles of Tropic Turtle and two pilsner glasses.

  “That was awesome, Tyler,” the waitress said, placing his beer and glass down first. “You’re so amazing.”

  “Thanks, Lily. How’s school going?”

  Lily put down Alexis’s bottle and glass and smiled ruefully. “It’s hard, but I’m doing it.”

  “Lily takes classes online,” he explained. “Not easy to go to college if you don’t want to leave here.”

  “Hospitality and hotel management,” Lily offered. “I figure it’ll come in handy if I stay on the island.”

  “Pink Palm could use some real competition,” Tyler agreed.

  “The Pink Palm Hotel?” Alexis queried. “That’s still going?”

  “Still does real good business,” Lily said, “but word on the bay is that Roy Haskell hasn’t been well since his wife died.”

  “That’s too bad,” Alexis said, her face clouding over.

  “Some people don’t recover from a thing like that,” Lily continued.

  Alexis’s expression wasn’t lost on Tyler. “Thanks for the drinks, Lily,” Tyler said politely, letting her know it was time to move on.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” Lily said, directing her offer to Tyler.

  “Will do.”

  Tyler turned his full attention to the person he really wanted to talk to. “So how’s your visit going?”

  “I’m here in a bar, aren’t I?” She sighed. “I’m kidding; it’s not too bad. My parents are as expected. Same for my sister. Nephews are great, though. I highly recommend them.”

  “Yours?”

  “Get your own.” She sipped her beer. “I feel myself regressing, though. I’m hormonal. Prone to excessive amounts of sarcasm. Plus, my mom wants me to bake cakes with her.”

  “Did she dust off your Easy Bake Oven after all these years?”

  “That was Betsy’s. Pretty much everything was Betsy’s.”

  “Ah, an old sibling rivalry rears its ugly head.”

  Alexis shook her head emphatically, rejecting his interpretation. “No, see, that’s wrong. It wasn’t a rivalry. We were too different to compete.”

  “Black sheep syndrome then?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. Probably.” Alexis ran a finger thoughtfully around the rim of her glass. “I don’t dwell on the dynamics. Anyway, it’s the past.”

  “Really?” Tyler asked, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Because it seems awfully present to me.”

  Alexis balked. She was used to brushing off her past. Easy to do in London where no one knew her. To her own surprise, she found herself wanting to open up to him. It had been a long time since she had a friend to listen to her. And the whiskey and beer combo certainly helped.

  “Have you ever pushed something so far down that you forget you’re still carrying the weight of it?” she asked.

  “Then you must weigh a ton.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Tyler gave her a sympathetic smile. “I understand what you mean.”

  He placed a caring hand over hers and she felt a rush of warmth that she wished she hadn’t. She didn’t want to feel anything.

  “Got any songs about love and loss in your repertoire?” she asked, instinctively moving her hand away.

  “One or two,” he said, trying not to flinch. “C’mon, Alexis. Unburden yourself. You’ve got two willing ears right here.” And some other willing body parts as well, he was tempted to add.

  Slowly, Alexis emptied her glass. “No. I wear my albatross with pride. It goes with everything.”

  Tyler refused to be deterred. It was enough that she came to see him play, even if he was an excuse to escape her family.

  “Pride always comes before a fall,” he said. Studying her now, he wondered whether that had already come to pass.

  “Mr. Barnes,” a man’s voice boomed. Tyler broke into a broad grin and stood to shake the man’s hand.

  Alexis was grateful for the interruption. The conversation had become more personal than she’d intended. She craned her neck to get a better look at the interloper.

  “Glad you could make it,” Tyler said politely. “Alexis, this is Caspian Warwick. He’s one of my regulars, when he’s on the island.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” she said. “Do I detect an accent?”

  Caspian slid into the empty seat beside her. “Now that is a good ear. I like to think I’ve spent so much time here that I blend.”

  Alexis doubted very much that this gorgeous man had any intention of blending. Movie star good looks aside, he wore a hot pink collared shirt and navy blue checked shorts with leather sandals. His beach bum aspirational attire didn’t wash with Alexis. He reeked of money and entitlement.

  “Alexis has been living in London for the past decade and change,” Tyler explained.

  Caspian’s face brightened. “How is The Big Smoke these days? Haven’t been for ages.”

  “Grey and elegant, just as you left it, I’m sure.”

  “Tyler, I didn’t know you had friends in London. You’ve never mentioned her.” He clucked his tongue. “All those late night conversations at the Heron and nary a word, you naughty boy.”

  Alexis stepped to Tyler’s defense. “We’ve only recently reconnected. He didn’t even know I lived in London.”

  “Lived?” Caspian zeroed in on her use of the past tense.

  “Live,” Alexis corrected herself, her cheeks reddening.

  Tyler gave her a quizzical look but said nothing.

  “Well, I see a ridiculously well-proportioned young lady at the bar who seems desperate for my attention.” He stood and gave Tyler a hard whack on the back. “Good to see you, mate. Cheers for the music. You’re wasting your talents here.” He dipped slightly toward Alexis. “Lovely to meet you, Alexis.”

  “And you,” Alexis said politely. As soon as he was out of earshot, Alexis narrowed her eyes at Tyler. “Is he seriously a friend of yours? Where did you meet, at the yacht club?”

  Tyler shrugged and smiled. “He’s a character.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “He spends a fair amount of money on the island when he’s not sailing his yacht to bluer waters.”

  “Let me guess, St. Tropez?”

  “One of many destinations.”

  “He’s about as posh as they come.” Alex
is shook her head in disbelief. She’d had her fair share of dealings with members of English society through her firm and couldn’t believe there was one lurking right here on Mangrove Island.

  “He’s fairly harmless unless you’re a woman under the age of thirty, although rumor has it he’s not very welcome in England. That’s why he sails from place to place.”

  “Avoiding arrest?” Alexis was intrigued.

  Tyler shook his head. “No, I think he served his time or had his day in court or whatever it was. A politician with a past.”

  “Aren’t they all?” Alexis snorted.

  Tyler polished off his beer. “Enough about the peerage, back to the steerage.” He pointed to himself. “Based on what you heard tonight, would you be interested in seeing me play again? Because I can give you the calendar right now.” He reached into his jeans pocket for his phone.

  He wanted an excuse to see more of her. If he could gaze at her in the audience every time he played, it would be the best holiday season imaginable. He noticed the way Caspian had checked her out. Of course, Caspian checked out anything with breasts over an A cup, but he was justified in giving Alexis the once-over. She was breathtaking.

  “Are you sure you’re not trying to recruit me into your groupie set?” she eyed him suspiciously.

  “I don’t have groupies,” he insisted.

  “What about them?” asked Alexis, gesturing toward a trio of young women in the far corner of the room. She’d noticed them during the show, singing along to the lyrics. One of the women had her gaze fixed on them now. She quickly glanced away when Alexis caught her eye.

  “Oh, you noticed them, huh?” Tyler said sheepishly. “They may turn up for a gig or two.”

  “Have you dated any of them?” Alexis asked out of curiosity. She hoped he didn’t take it the wrong way. She didn’t want him to think she was interested.

  “Nope,” Tyler replied firmly. “Too young for me.”

  Alexis coughed. “Too young? I didn’t realize that was an option for men.”

  Tyler took her reaction in stride. “I like a woman with a mind of her own. Girls like that don’t have enough life experience and I’m not interested in having a lapdog.”