Long Way Home by Neve Cottrell

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