Long Way Home

by Neve Cottrell

  “I used to think so,” Alexis said.

  Tilly finished the last meatball and slid the tray into the oven. “But not anymore?”

  Alexis didn’t want to keep her secrets anymore. She was doing the same thing to her mother that she accused her mother of doing to her. She was demanding to be known and understood, yet withholding the very information that would allow that to happen. It was time to undo some of the damage.

  “Mark and I wanted children, but I had two miscarriages,” Alexis said. “The first one made it to the second trimester, but I lost the second one at ten weeks.”

  Tilly’s shoulders slackened. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

  “Mark was excited to start a family. He used to research everything from prenatal vitamins to the safest car seat. He was so smart, in-house counsel for a big company. He was a kind, loving man, a wonderful husband, and he would’ve been a great dad.”

  Tilly’s eyes filled with tears. “So what happened?” she gently prodded.

  Alexis took a deep breath and told her story.

  Alexis hurried into the grand lobby from outside. Bright sunshine burst through the glass doors and windows. She’d just finished presenting to a huge, prospective client and the meeting had gone well. Now all she needed to do was grab her bag from her office and head to the airport where Mark was waiting, probably cursing her under his breath for being late yet again.

  As she passed by the front desk, the receptionist gave a polite wave to get her attention. “Mrs. Steamer, you have an urgent message from your secretary.”

  Alexis wrinkled her nose. “I’m heading up there now.”

  The receptionist lowered her voice. “They’ve left several voicemails on your mobile as well.”

  Alexis fished through her bag for her cell phone. She always kept it turned off during presentations and client meetings.

  “Thank you,” she said blankly. What was so urgent? She did a mental check of all her current matters and couldn’t conjure up any potential disasters. She was only eight weeks pregnant and had recently had her first doctor’s appointment, but there was no reason for them to call. They were going to monitor her pregnancy closely because of her previous miscarriage, that was all.

  She took the elevator up to her office to listen to her messages in private. Magda, her secretary, wasn’t at her desk so Alexis went straight into her office and closed the door. When she heard the sound of her mother-in-law’s fractured voice, a shiver ran down her spine.

  “It’s Mark, Alexis. Please ring me when you get this.”

  Alexis felt her stomach turn inside out. How could it be Mark? He was sitting in the airport lounge. She dialed Moira’s number and waited anxiously. Thankfully, Moira picked up on the first ring.

  “What happened?” Alexis asked without saying hello.

  “There was an accident on the motorway,” Moira began, then stopped, unable to continue.

  “But that doesn’t make sense. He’s already at the airport,” Alexis said.

  Donald’s voice came on next. “He left the airport to come back for you. A lorry overturned on the motorway.” He sucked in a deep breath. “They said it was quick.”

  “But it’s our anniversary,” she said, as though bad things didn’t happen to people on their anniversary.

  “I know,” said Donald as she heard Moira’s sobs break out in the background.

  Alexis didn’t know what to say, so she hung up the phone without saying anything. She stared at her reflection in the glass pane of her oversized window. The moment didn’t seem real.

  The worst day of her life had come without warning, without fanfare; the day even had the nerve to be sunny. She spent the rest of the day sobbing and vomiting on the floor of the office bathroom until Magda finally appeared in the doorway with Hal.

  Hal collected her from the bathroom and took her home. She slept on the sofa that night, unwilling to sleep in their bed without Mark. She went without food the next day, until she remembered the baby growing inside her and forced herself to eat a bowl of oatmeal with sliced banana. Mark would want her to eat sensibly for the baby.

  Since Donald and Moira were over an hour away and not fully functional, Alexis knew the funeral would be left to her. As ideal as they were in so many ways, Alexis realized that the Steamers were not good when things went bad. They were fair weather people. Alexis, on the other hand, was a MacAdams from Mangrove Island. A place of disappointments and tough love. She didn’t dissolve when things didn’t go well; she toughened up.

  Hundreds of people attended the funeral. Alexis didn’t know half of them. People who worked with Mark. Friends of the Steamers. Alexis had Mark dressed in a tasteful Armani suit with his favorite red tie. Alexis stood in the foreground with the Steamers beside her. She opted to forgo the obligatory dark sunglasses, staring down at the casket with clear, dry eyes.

  A week after the funeral, Alexis began to bleed uncontrollably and she took herself to the hospital where she received the last of her bad news. Mark was dead and now the only part of him that remained was gone, too.

  When she finished her story, Alexis wept in earnest. This was the first time she’d recounted the awful events in such detail. Even her therapist hadn’t wrangled the whole story out of her. Difficult didn’t begin to describe it.

  Tilly’s tears flowed freely. She wrapped her daughter in her arms as Alexis tried to calm herself.

  “The worst part is, I went straight back to work like nothing happened,” Alexis said through sobs. “I was too busy bringing in clients to be with my husband and then I carried on working until I’d lost everything.” She spit the word ‘working’ like it burned her tongue.

  “None of it was your fault, Alexis.” Tilly stroked her daughter’s hair.

  “I should’ve been with him. He was coming back for me because I wasn’t where I belonged, with him. After he died, I thought I’d be strong enough to hold myself together for the baby.” She stifled another sob. “But I wasn’t.”

  Tilly finally understood. As hard as it was to hear, the truth gave her a sense of peace. “When did all this happen?”

  “About eighteen months ago. I thought it was best to keep my routine going afterward, to stay sane, but the firm finally asked me to take a leave of absence. I guess I wasn’t able to keep up. I spent a lot of time staring out the window at grey skies. It was depressing everybody.”

  “Alexis, I’m so sorry.” Her mother cupped her chin. “It’s a terrible loss, but believe me when I tell you that you are strong.” She looked her daughter in the eye. “And I don’t think that’s only my perception. If you really want to, you’ll find a way to stop blaming yourself and live your life. Mark would want that.”

  Alexis slumped into Tilly’s arms, feeling unburdened, and allowed herself to be comforted by her mother for the first time since childhood.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was the night of the electricians’ union Christmas party so Alexis was the adult in charge at Betsy’s house, attempting to earn her aunt stripes. Her nephews sat on the floor in the family room while Tyler played B-I-N-G-O on his guitar.

  “And Bingo was his name, oh!” Tyler gave one last exaggerated stroke of the strings and the pint-sized audience clapped wildly.

  “Okay, I think Tyler the Guitar Hero deserves a break,” Alexis said.

  The boys moaned in protest as Tyler followed Alexis into the kitchen. On his way, he saw Brian head for the guitar and gave him a mock threatening look. No one touched the guitar, no matter how cute. Brian shrank back to his seat on the floor.

  “Sorry, but they’re not big tippers,” Alexis joked as they stood in the kitchen.

  “It’s not cash I’m interested in, little lady.” He gave her a meaningful look and she shifted her gaze away, moving to the cabinet to pull out two glasses. She wanted him to focus on something else, especially while they were babysitting. His attention was both exhilarating and frightening.

  “How about I serve you a drink fo
r a change?” she asked.

  As always, he took her brush off in stride. “I’d like that.”

  Tyler settled onto a stool while Alexis poured the wine.

  “So I’ve been giving it some thought,” he told her, “and it sounds to me like you should quit your job.”

  “Is that so?”

  “You should be doing something you love every single day. Feeding your soul instead of filling your day.”

  “But I’m a good lawyer.” Despite her leave of absence from the firm, Alexis hadn’t lost faith in her abilities. It was the one area of her life where she’d never let anybody down.

  “So be a different kind of lawyer,” Tyler suggested.

  “You think I should be a bad lawyer?” she asked playfully.

  “I’ll bet you couldn’t if you tried,” he said. “Why not work for a non-profit or be an immigration lawyer? There must be some type of law that would fulfill you.”

  Owen raced in, unaware of the grown-up conversation taking place. Alexis nearly exhaled with relief, grateful for the interruption.

  “The natives are getting breathless!” he gasped.

  “You mean restless,” Alexis corrected him with a smile.

  “Can we have one more song before bedtime, pleeeeease?” He flashed a toothy grin and batted his long eyelashes at them.

  Tyler couldn’t resist. “Okay then, one more song.”

  “Hooray!” Owen hustled out of the room ahead of them to tell the others.

  “Pushover,” Alexis teased and Tyler pinched her bottom in retaliation. “Hey, hands to yourself.”

  “I’m trying my best,” he said, giving her an innocent look. He sauntered back into the family room and called out, “Who likes Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?”

  “The nice version,” she hissed behind him.

  Once the boys were finally asleep, Alexis and Tyler sat comfortably on the couch, watching A Christmas Carol in the family room. The lights were dimmed and the tree lights twinkled happily in the background.

  “So do you think you’ll ever write poems again?” asked Tyler. “Maybe we could collaborate.”

  “What makes you think I stopped? Maybe I’ve been filling notebooks and stuffing them under my mattress for years.”

  “Oh, you stopped,” he said knowingly. “Maybe you dabbled a little in college, but I’ll bet you never wrote anything after that.”

  “When did you decide all that, Agatha Christie?”

  “That first night you came into the bar.”

  She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “You’re right. I gave up that part of myself a long time ago.”

  “The poet’s still in there, you know.” He patted his own chest. “Takes one to know one. You should release the hounds. If you write as well as you kiss, you could be the next Maya Angelou.”

  She covered her face with her hands, embarrassed by his casual reference to their make out session. “Tyler,” she protested.

  “What’s the matter? Alexis, you have nothing to be embarrassed about, believe me. The way you tilted your head at just the right angle. Your tongue was like a hot, wet…”

  Her face grew hot. “Tyler, if you say another word on the subject, so help me God, that tree will find its way up your…”

  He leapt away from her, grinning mischievously. “Your lips were like red rose petals glistening with dew. I’ve never experienced a kiss like that in my life.”

  Alexis couldn’t resist a smile. “You’re a lucky man, Tyler Barnes.”

  Tyler eyed her. “I could be luckier.”

  “And persistent.”

  He dropped back down beside her and covered her hand with his. “I do get a rise out of watching you squirm.” And out of everything else you do, he wanted to add.

  “So glad you find me entertaining.”

  They sat in mutual silence for a moment, enjoying the ambience.

  “Do you think this is what it would be like?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Having kids.”

  Alexis stared into her lap. Although she’d told her mother the whole dreadful story, she wasn’t ready to confide in Tyler, partly because her emotions were still too raw and partly because she feared his reaction. He stirred such positive feelings in her; she didn’t want to risk losing that.

  “I don’t know,” she finally whispered.

  “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a great mom. These kids adore you.”

  As much as it pained her, Alexis gave him a polite smile and uttered the only words she could manage. “Thank you.”

  The next evening, Alexis stood in her room and deliberated over her outfit for Tyler’s annual holiday performance at Gatsby’s. She didn’t think it counted as a date, since he’d be on stage and she’d be nursing a drink on her own. At this point, though, it was hard to pretend they weren’t dating. Once constant companionship progressed to kissing and groping, then it became something else entirely. Thankfully, he seemed to understand that she needed to move at her own pace.

  Alexis finally chose jeans and a plum-colored top with a deep v-neck. She glammed it up with diamond stud earrings and a silver bracelet. Alexis couldn’t remember a period in her life when she spent so much time choosing clothes to wear. It felt frivolous and, more importantly, fun. When she was finally ready to go, she inspected her reflection in the mirror and was pleased with the results.

  “My parents are here tonight,” Tyler stated when she arrived. “They’d love to meet you.”

  Alexis felt her chest tighten. “They’re not here for me, are they?”

  He laughed. “Wow. I’ve given you quite the ego, haven’t I?” He placed a hand on either of her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Rest assured, Alexis, as lovely as you are, they’re here to see me, their son.”

  Alexis wanted to melt into the floor. What was wrong with her? Naturally, they were here to enjoy their son’s music.

  “Having said that,” he told her with an impish grin, “would it be too much to ask that you sit with them?”

  Alexis hesitated. “I’m not so great with parents.”

  He put his arm across her shoulder and she instantly relaxed. “Hey, they’re not your parents. Just meet them. If they scare you off, then sit somewhere else.”

  He guided Alexis to an older couple in the far corner of the room.

  “Mom, Dad, this is Alexis MacAdams.”

  “Call me Trey,” said Tyler’s dad. “And this is Patty.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Alexis said.

  “MacAdams,” Trey said, rubbing his grey beard. “Does your mother work for Morris?”

  “For many years,” Alexis said.

  “He’s our lawyer,” Trey said. “Did our wills and some other personal business.”

  “Alexis is a lawyer, too,” Tyler told them.

  Trey smacked his knee. “Gonna give Morris a run for his money, huh? The old geezer could use some youthful competition.” He laughed heartily.

  “No, I don’t live here,” Alexis corrected him. “I’ve been working in London.”

  Trey whistled. “Smart and pretty with international credentials. I like it.” He winked at Tyler.

  “Don’t mind my husband,” Patty chimed in. “He’s been eager to see his son settled down for quite some time now. He sees every pretty woman as a potential daughter-in-law.”

  “Like you don’t,” Tyler said to his mother good-naturedly.

  She fluffed his hair. “I’m a patient woman.”

  “Must be where I get it,” said Tyler. He glanced over his shoulder. “Showtime.” He gave his mother a peck on the cheek.

  “Alexis, will you join us?” asked Patty.

  “She will because I’ve already asked that her drink be sent to this table.” Tyler gave her an unexpected kiss on the lips before he bounced toward the stage.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting,” Alexis said sheepishly. She fervently hoped his parents had missed the lip lock.

  “We have
more than enough alone time together,” Patty said with a wry smile. “Sometimes it’s nice to have a little distraction.”

  Trey threw a muscled arm around his wife and pulled her closer. “Nothing can distract me from you, Patty. Don’t you know that by now?” He kissed her cheek roughly and Alexis couldn’t help but laugh.

  Oddly, they reminded her of Mark’s parents, minus the English demeanor. She decided it must be what a happy couple looks like.

  She’d met the Steamers for the first time at Amaya, an Indian restaurant that Mark’s parents enjoyed whenever they were in London. They were a well-dressed and relaxed couple, the kind of couple who did a lot of socializing together. Polar opposites of Alexis’s parents.

  “I cannot believe you’ve never had a curry before,” Moira had commented.

  “My family wasn’t big on foreign cuisine. Once when I was seven, we went for Chinese in Fort Myers.”

  “Once? When you were seven?” Donald had been aghast. Mark had been raised on international cuisine. From sushi to curry to fish and chips. It was all comfort food to him.

  Alexis shrugged. “My father kept insisting there was cat hidden somewhere in the menu and making incoherent references to the Korean war.”

  Mark’s father perked up at the mention of war. “Surely, your father is too young to have served in Korea.”

  “The only thing my father served was beer to himself after work, when my mother wasn’t home to fetch it for him.”

  They all laughed and shook their heads in disbelief.

  Mark’s mother smiled indulgently at her son. “I think Mark enjoyed his first curry in the womb. I had to have one every Friday. Donald would bring it home to me after work. It was worse than a craving.”

  Donald patted his wife’s hand at the memory and they shared a nostalgic smile. The gesture caught Alexis’s attention because she couldn’t recall a single time that her father and mother had ever exchanged loving smiles like that.

  Hand-in-hand, Alexis and Mark strolled back to their flat from the restaurant.

  “Have your parents always been like this?” she asked.