Long Way Home - Page 18/145

Her father stopped eating and Alexis immediately sensed this was not a welcome topic of conversation.

"He's a wonderful little boy," her mother told her. "A lot of work, but wonderful."

"It's a damn shame," her father grumbled.

"Now, Greg..."

"What a waste. The kid is built like a brick house. Would have made a helluva defensive tackle."

"Do the other boys understand that Joey is different?" asked Alexis.

"Of course, especially Owen. He's clever." Tilly chuckled. "Well, you met him."

"Too clever for his own good," Greg said.

Alexis bristled. "He's four. How can he be too clever for his own good?"

"Oh, I forget who I'm talking to here." Greg dug back into his dinner.

Alexis pushed back her chair. "Thanks for dinner, Mom. I'm going to head out for a bit, if you don't mind."

Greg eyed her. "Really? You're asking permission to run out the door? That's new."

Tilly glanced at her husband with a sigh. "It's fine, dear."

Alexis moved quickly through the hall to reclaim her jacket. She felt the familiar tightness in her chest and knew that she needed some time to decompress.

"She's got a helluva nerve," she heard her father say. A statement she'd heard many times as a child. Her expression went flat as she grabbed her handbag and escaped into the crisp, night air.

A short golf cart ride later, Alexis found herself heading toward the south end of the island, admiring the festive lights and welcoming wreaths that adorned the pretty houses in the Costa Azul neighborhood. She'd always liked Costa Azul. Unlike

Castaway Cove, where she'd grown up, Costa Azul was blessed with the older, larger Spanish-style houses. The island had been settled by the Spanish in the late eighteenth century, with the southern end being favored by its inhabitants. As a result, Costa Azul and Flamingo Key had the lion's share of character properties.

The area was eerily familiar and yet completely foreign to her. She saw movement as she passed by the various windows, evidence of life carrying on within the four walls of those houses, and Alexis felt a sharp pang of jealousy. A small, inviting restaurant caught her attention. The Blue Heron. The recommendation from Marty, the water taxi operator, came back to her and she allowed herself to be enticed inside.