Alexis shook her head. Unfortunately, those garish decorations she remembered well.
Inside the house, Tilly MacAdams was busy in the kitchen, preparing a pot roast dinner for her husband just as she had a thousand times before. Greg MacAdams loved pot roast almost as much as meatloaf and chicken parmigiana, so they were staples in the MacAdams house. As Tilly was about to drop the carrots into the boiling pot of water, the sound of the doorbell rang out and carrots scattered across the countertops. Tilly chuckled to herself and left the carrots where they fell. She hurried to open the door to a very unexpected sight. Her younger daughter.
"Hello, Mom."
Tilly realized that her mouth was hanging open so she snapped it shut. "Jesus Christ," she whispered. Recovered from her momentary shock, she absently wiped her hands on her apron.
"No, it's Alexis, remember? You named me Alexis."
Tilly raised a bushy eyebrow. "Both been raised from the dead, apparently."
She gestured for her daughter to come in and Alexis stepped toward her, unsure whether to hug or kiss or neither. Tilly made the first move and gave her an awkward half-hug and feathery kiss on the cheek.
"My Lord, what will your father say? You could have called, you know."
"I've been here two seconds. Let's not march straight in with the guilt parade."
"I meant call to say that you were coming today, that's all. You have to admit, it's a bit of a shock."
Alexis took off her jacket and hung it on the hook in the hallway. She didn't need to look around. The jacket hung in exactly the same place as it had seventeen years ago.
Tilly looked at her hesitantly, not wanting to assume too much. "Are you here for
Christmas?"
"I thought I might, if you don't mind. I have confidence that you haven't turned my room into a gym or a library."
"No, no. It's usually for when the boys stay over." She paused awkwardly.
"Your nephews."
Alexis didn't react. Instead, she scanned the rooms of the house for signs of familiarity. She didn't need to look far.
"Even the Christmas tree is in the same spot," she commented.
"Well, where else would it go?"
Alexis gestured to her suitcases. "I'll get these out of your way. Smells like you've got a pot roast on your hands."
Tilly smiled ruefully. "You know your father. Dinner on the table when he gets home."
Alexis walked upstairs with the suitcases and passed two high school graduation photos, one of her and one of her older sister, Betsy. She only glanced at them out of the corner of her eye. No desire to meet them head on.