Long Way Home - Page 104/145

"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.