Long Way Home

by Neve Cottrell

  “Ten second rule,” he said. “Doesn’t count as a fall.”

  Alexis broke into a grin so wide that she could still feel it on her cheeks when she thought about it.

  Alexis squeezed her eyes closed, unwilling to remember any more. Overwhelmed by a surge of emotion, she nearly keeled over. Thankfully, Tyler caught her by the elbow before she could topple and embarrass herself.

  “One whiskey too many?” he joked.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

  “Now it’s my turn to be sorry,” he remarked. “I practically kept you out at gunpoint.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” she told him. “I haven’t been sleeping well for a long time. I have anxiety dreams.” She felt silly saying it out loud. Before now, she’d only told her therapist who recommended sleeping pills. Alexis made no more appointments after that. She didn’t want pills.

  “Nightmares?”

  “You could say that.” She noticed that his hand was still gripping her elbow and she instinctively jerked away. Seeing Tyler’s stricken face, she realized her mistake.

  Alexis felt the knot in her stomach doubling in size. “I didn’t mean to do that,” she said in a small voice. She offered her elbow. “Here, you can hold it again, if you want.”

  Tyler burst out laughing at the sheer absurdity. “Maybe I don’t want to hold your elbow.”

  Alexis dropped her arm to her side. “Okay then.”

  “Maybe I’d rather hold some other body part.”

  She felt herself being drawn in by his intense gaze. “Which one?” she asked, daring him.

  “Ladies’ choice.”

  He gave her a cocky half-smile and she froze. Ladies’ choice. Her thoughts flew back to Mark and the brief moment of pleasure immediately gave way to immense guilt.

  “Tyler, I…” she faltered, uncertain what to say. “I’m scared.”

  “Scared?” He cupped her face with his hands. “Of me?”

  “Of having feelings for someone other than my husband,” she confessed.

  His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Husband?” He edged back slightly. “Are you married?”

  “Not anymore, but please Tyler, that’s all I want to say about it for now.” Tears filled her eyes, but Alexis was determined not to cry.

  “What’s his name?” asked Tyler. He didn’t know why he asked that; it just slipped out.

  “Mark.”

  “Did you meet him in London?”

  “Tyler,” she began, then relented. “Yes, I did. Now please don’t ask anything else. I’ve fashioned myself a nice, delusional bubble and I like it in here. It’s cozy.”

  “Fine for you, but how do you expect anyone else to get in?” he asked.

  She grew flustered. “I don’t.”

  Without another word, she fled Lottie’s Greenhouse. Away from Tyler and away from the good feelings he evoked. How could she flirt with him so shamelessly? How could she consider him as anything more than a friend? She continued to run through the quiet island streets as images of Somerset House raced through her mind. Every nervous giggle. Every smile.

  The memory was too painful. She needed to keep moving because standing still made it too easy to think. She ran through Coconut Cove to the nearest beach, kicking off her shoes as soon as she hit the sand. She waded into the water, seeking absolution. The bottom of her dress quickly became drenched. The waves crashed against the cluster of boulders and Alexis welcomed the salt water spray on her face. She didn’t deserve Tyler’s attention. She didn’t deserve to be happy. She’d had her chance at love and she blew it. She deserved to be exactly as she was – alone.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning Alexis dragged herself to Owen’s Nativity play along with the whole family. She’d been holed up in her bedroom ever since she returned from the beach the night before. Tilly could tell something was amiss and she tried in vain to piece together the mystery that was her daughter. Even though she was Alexis’s mother, Alexis had always seemed slightly alien to her. She knew how to parent Betsy without thinking, despite the fact that Betsy was her first child; she found parenting Alexis far more challenging.

  They took golf carts to St. Matthew’s Church where Owen attended preschool. Alexis carefully chose a seat at the end of the row by the exit door. She made a habit of always sitting near an exit, whenever the option presented itself.

  While they waited patiently for her nephew’s shining moment, Betsy did a commendable job of keeping Joey occupied. Alexis realized how difficult basic errands must be for Betsy when Joey was involved. She didn’t have attention for anyone or anything else, not that Alexis blamed her. No wonder Owen took such a liking to Alexis, though. She had unfettered time to sit and engage him in conversation and Owen was a kid who clearly liked conversation.

  Despite Alexis’s attempt to focus on the children on stage, her mind kept drifting to Tyler and her behavior at Lottie’s Greenhouse. Gentleman that he was, he’d texted her last night to see if she was okay, but she couldn’t bring herself to reply. How could she possibly explain herself without wrenching open the door to a conversation she absolutely did not want to have? She didn’t need to relive her heartbreak and Tyler and her family didn’t need to know any of it. Soon she’d be gone for parts unknown and they could all resume their lives before she so rudely interrupted them with her torment.

  Finally, the Three Wise Men arrived to see the Baby Jesus. Alexis sighed inwardly with relief. Owen wore a white beard far too big and bushy for his small face. He also carried a walking stick much too tall for his four-year-old body. The pairing, however, made for an adorable effect.

  “One of the Wise Men was a gimp?” she whispered to her mother.

  “He thought his character needed a prop.”

  “Wouldn’t that be frankincense or myrrh?”

  The larger boy playing Wise Man One yelled, “We have followed a wandering star that has led us here.”

  “We bow before our King and offer our finest gifts to the baby Jesus,” said Wise Man Two, in a voice that was barely audible. He bowed down and basically pulled the other two Wise Men down with him.

  “Peace to the world,” declared Owen as Wise Man Three. “One day baby Jesus will be dead…but not while he’s a baby.”

  The actors exchanged confused glances. This was clearly not in the script. Alexis watched as Betsy and Joe hid their eyes in embarrassment.

  “Glory to God in the Highest,” yelled Wise Man One in a brave effort to save the scene.

  Mary raised the generic baby doll playing Jesus for the Wise Men to adore. The sight of the doll brought unexpected tears to Alexis’s eyes. Quickly, she turned toward the wall so no one would notice. She pretended to move a stray hair from her face while wiping away an escaped tear. Her mother gave her a curious glance but turned her attention back to the stage.

  When the play finished, the grown-ups jumped to their feet and clapped heartily. The children formed a line on stage and all bowed, mostly at the same time. Alexis noticed that the innkeeper seemed to have wet his pants. Owen bowed repeatedly until one of the teachers directed him off the stage.

  Afterward, they all went to Betsy’s house for lunch where the usual divide occurred. The men and boys wandered into the family room and the women ended up in the kitchen. Alexis had always hated that about her family; it was very hunter and gatherer. It was, in fact, the main reason she never wanted to learn to cook. She hated feeling like she’d been assigned to a room based on her gender and not because she showed an interest in being there.

  Betsy took out rolls and cold cuts while Tilly set out the condiments. Alexis looked around for a job to do. She and Betsy hadn’t addressed their mall fight and Alexis thought it best to keep quiet and make herself useful.

  “Do you want me to get the plates?”

  “Sure,” Betsy said, without a trace of hostility. “Paper plates are in the pantry. There are red and green ones for Christmas.”<
br />
  Outside of Betsy’s house, Alexis couldn’t remember the last time she’d used a paper plate. Not since she left the island. It was such an odd thing to notice.

  Tilly opened two beer bottles. “I’ll bring these to the men,” she said.

  “Have you tried Tropic Turtle?” Alexis asked Betsy.

  Betsy’s eyes widened. “Have you?”

  “The other night at Gatsby’s. It was excellent.”

  “Gatsby’s, huh? What brought you there?”

  “I ran into an old friend and he invited me to watch him play his music there.”

  Betsy stopped in her tracks, a Kaiser roll in each hand. “Which old friend would that be?”

  “Do you remember Tyler Barnes?”

  At first Betsy stifled a chuckle, then decided to let it loose. The more clueless Alexis appeared, the harder Betsy laughed.

  “It only took him what, seventeen years?”

  Alexis bristled. She didn’t like her sister laughing at her. It reminded her too much of their childhood.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Tyler Barnes had a massive crush on you in high school. A monster-sized, nausea-inducing crush. How can you not remember that?”

  “I don’t think I can remember something I never knew.”

  “Then you were living more up your own ass than I ever realized. I’m surprised you didn’t charge yourself rent.”

  Betsy carried on setting out the rolls, whistling Jingle Bells. Alexis remained still, trying to absorb what Betsy said.

  “What makes you think he had a crush?”

  “For starters, he used to ride his skateboard past our house all the time. Rumrunner Road wasn’t on his way to anywhere. Hell, it’s not on anyone’s way to anywhere.” She glanced over at her mother. “No offense, Mom.”

  Tilly shrugged. She was more interested in hearing the rest of the story.

  “Okay, he rode his skateboard around the island. Big deal.”

  “He worked with you on the Yearbook Committee. How could you forget that?”

  Alexis wrinkled her nose. “Lots of people worked on the Yearbook Committee. What does that prove?”

  Betsy gave an exasperated sigh. “Tyler Barnes was not a Yearbook Committee kind of guy. He was a lusted after hot guy with a guitar who didn’t give other girls the time of day because of you.”

  “Then why did he never ask me out?”

  “You’ll need to ask him that, but I’d bet my money on pure intimidation. You’re not exactly of the soft and cuddly variety.”

  Alexis shook her head, still in disbelief. “You remember all this? I can’t even remember the name of my favorite teacher.”

  “It was Mrs. Baker, your English teacher. She said you had the eyes of Walt Whitman and the soul of Thoreau.” Betsy scratched her head. “You ate that crap up.”

  Alexis stared at her sister, open-mouthed. “What the hell?”

  Betsy shrugged like it was no big deal. “I still live here. Things like that get reinforced over the years just through casual conversation. I still cut Melissa Kinney’s hair and she had a raging lust for Tyler even after high school, but he wasn’t interested. She couldn’t stand the sight of you in high school. Was happy as a clam that you left town, not that it helped her any.”

  “How sweet.”

  “I’m just giving you the background.” Betsy gave her a pointed look. “You asked.”

  Alexis closed her eyes, absorbing the information. It all made sense, thinking about Tyler’s eagerness to see more of her. His memory of her poetry. Then she thought of her behavior at the rink and the acidic taste of regret burned her throat.

  “I’m a complete asshole,” she whispered.

  Betsy glanced up from her cold cut tray. “And that only took you seventeen years.”

  Alexis spent the remainder of her time at Betsy’s obsessing over her sister’s revelation. Finding out about Tyler’s crush on top of her already deplorable behavior made Alexis feel worse than awful. Since she already felt awful on a regular basis, she had no desire to compound the negative feelings. When Owen asked her to take him to a nearby park, she jumped at the chance to get outside and clear her head.

  “Would your brothers like to go?” she asked him.

  Owen shook his head. “They think it’s a baby park because it only has swings and monkey bars. Well, Brian says that anyway. Joey just doesn’t like parks.”

  “Sounds like fun to me,” said Alexis.

  Once she cleared the excursion with Betsy, they walked the two blocks to the small park. Owen went immediately to a swing and plopped down in the seat.

  “Would you like me to push you?” she asked.

  “No. I like to sit here and watch for the birds.”

  Alexis gave him a knowing smile. “You don’t actually play when you come here, do you?”

  He shook his sun-kissed head. “No. It’s quiet here. And I like bird watching. Some real colorful ones like to come to this park.”

  Alexis wanted to hug him in the worst way. He pulled a small bag from his pocket and held it up to Alexis.

  “Want a cookie?”

  “Where did you get those?” she asked.

  “I always steal a bag from the pantry before I come to the park. They’re chocolate chip.” He tore open the bag and popped one in his mouth.

  “I’ll have one,” she said, holding out her hand. He placed a small cookie in her palm and began to swing. “Thank you.”

  “You’ll be here for Christmas, right?” he asked, his large, solemn eyes seeking reassurance. “It’s only days away now!”

  “Yes, definitely.” She crunched away on the cookie. Even though it wasn’t homemade, it tasted good. It tasted of her childhood.

  “And then you’ll disappear, like the dinosaurs.”

  “No, Owen. We’re friends now, right?”

  He nodded somberly.

  “Then trust me when I tell you that won’t happen again. My disappearing days are over.”

  Alexis noticed that the top of his bag had dipped toward the ground as he leaned forward and she reached down to tilt it back up.

  “You’ve got to watch you don’t spill your cookies everywhere.” She laughed to herself. “I know that sounds like a euphemism for something naughty, but it isn’t.”

  “What’s a euphemism?”

  “Um, like when you say one thing, but it really means something else.”

  “Like when Mommy says she’s happy you’re here.”

  Alexis gently squeezed his hand. “No, that’s just a lie.”

  “Don’t you like Nana and Grandpop?” he asked innocently. “Grandpop can be a little grumpy, but he’s okay most of the time.”

  Alexis sighed. Owen had more insight than was necessary for a four-year-old.

  “Nana and Grandpop are my parents and I love them,” she insisted.

  “I asked you if you like them,” he said pointedly.

  Alexis bristled. Now I see why I may have been somewhat of a thorn in my family’s side, she mused.

  “They’re decent, hard-working people,” she replied diplomatically.

  “So you don’t like them,” he said. “That’s okay. I don’t always like them either, but I do love them.”

  He sang a little song to himself as he sat on the swing watching for birds, completely at peace with his feelings on the subject. Alexis wished she could simplify her feelings like that. She’d managed to create such layers of emotional complexity that she could scarcely function.

  Alexis ruffled his hair affectionately. “I like you, that’s for sure.”

  He grinned up at her and she noticed pieces of chocolate stuck to his small teeth. “You could be my best friend,” he said. “I don’t have one yet.”

  Alexis was touched. “I do have a vacancy in the best friend department.”

  “What about Tyler?” Owen asked.

  Her eyes widened. “Where did you hear that name?”

  “Mommy and Nana. And when Mommy men
tioned him earlier, she said he was always coming to see you.”

  “He’s definitely a friend,” Alexis admitted, “but I’ll reserve best friend status for you.” She stole another cookie from his bag and he clutched the bag to his chest in mock outrage.

  “Hey, no more sharing,” he declared.

  She lifted Owen out of the swing in a tickly hug. He giggled and wriggled until she was afraid he’d be sick.

  “You should have kids,” Owen told her. “Then I’d have someone fun like you to play with.”

  Alexis set him down and pressed her lips together.

  “I’m generally not the kind of person other people describe as fun, Owen, but I’m glad you think so.” She cleared her throat and forced a smile. “Now finish those cookies before I get you home so I don’t get in trouble.”

  After returning Owen to Betsy’s, Alexis made her escape. She couldn’t stop thinking about Tyler and was determined to apologize for running off. She took a golf cart to The Blue Heron in the hope that he’d be working. Unfortunately, he wasn’t behind the bar when she arrived.

  “He’s kayaking today,” the younger guy told her. “Try Sandy Point.”

  “Thanks,” said Alexis, uncertain whether to track him down. If he was enjoying a peaceful day of kayaking, who was she to ruin it with her presence?

  “Are you Alexis?” the bartender asked.

  Alexis’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes.”

  The bartender grinned. “Okay, now I get it.” He reached across the bar to shake her hand. “Lewis Moore.”

  “Nice to meet you, Lewis.”

  Alexis suspected that, unlike her, Tyler was in touch with his emotions and not afraid to share. There was, however, the somewhat salient point that he’d never expressed his feelings to the one person who seemingly mattered – Alexis. She may have been blind to his attention in school, but in her defense, he never actually told her how he felt. If he had, at the very least, she may have remembered him.

  She hopped in her golf cart and sputtered off toward Sandy Point. She hadn’t been to that part of the island since her arrival and she was curious to see how it looked after all these years. Lots of kids from school went kayaking and paddle boarding there, but Alexis had never been interested. She hadn’t been interested in anything the local kids did. Because she had no desire to be a local kid, she did her best to distance herself from their activities.