"I'm happy with a good salad," Alexis said, "so no need to make a fuss." "Nobody's making a fuss," Greg interjected, quick to his wife's defense.

"More carrots?" Tilly asked her husband.

Greg held up his plate so his wife could drop another heap of carrots onto it. Alexis chewed slowly, trying to figure out how she could survive this visit and retain her sanity.

After dinner, Tilly and Alexis cleaned up while Greg retired to the family room to watch a football game. It didn't matter which game or team. If it was football, it was on.

Nothing new there.

Alexis washed dishes while Tilly dried.

"You probably have a dishwasher now," Tilly said.

"I don't use it often."

"Do you use it to store pots and pans?" she asked. "I've seen that on TV. People in cities with limited storage."

"I don't use it for storage." Alexis wasn't a fan of clutter.

"I'll give Betsy a call and you can go see them tomorrow. I work until three, but it's her day off. Did you know she owns her own hair salon now?"

"No, I didn't. That's great."

"She's worked real hard."

Unlike me, right? Alexis thought bitterly. Her parents had always treated her accomplishments as less impressive than Betsy's.

"Are you still working for Morris?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, yes. I've had to do a lot of computer training these last few years. Everything is computerized nowadays. Morris still insists on dictation, though. And he never answers his own phone."

"Some people don't like change."

"He thinks it's a real hoot that my daughter joined his ranks."

"I'll bet." Alexis snickered, remembering Morris and his orange and green striped ties and suspenders. Morris was a solo lawyer, one of the few on the island, who took any case that walked through his creaky door. Even as a child, Alexis detested his threadbare carpet and dusty shelves. As far as she was concerned, he did nothing to inspire a future generation of lawyers. Rather, he served as a red, flashing warning sign.

"Dad looks a bit beat up," she said in a low voice. "How's his health?"

Tilly shook her head dismissively. "Nothing wrong with that one. Outdoor living takes its toll on your beauty is all."

"Is he talking about retirement at all? I mean, at some point it's just unsafe for a man his age to do a job like that."

Tilly chortled. "Your father has been a maintenance technician from the time he left school. He won't know how to do anything else."

"You could retire together. Do some traveling. There must be somewhere you'd like to go besides your own backyard."




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