"Joey's school goes all year round," Betsy explained to Alexis. "He gets one to two week breaks throughout the year."
"Have you talked about what you'll do when he's older?" Alexis asked. "Will he be able to live independently?"
Betsy shook her head. "Not Joey. Plenty of autistic people can, it depends on where they are on the spectrum. Joey's not going to be one of them, though."
Alexis didn't know what the appropriate response was for something like that.
She longed to reach out and hug her sister, but it felt too unnatural.
"Oh, he'll be fine," Tilly interjected with a dismissive wave of her hand and Betsy shot her sister a hopeless look.
Alexis and Betsy's most sisterly moments had involved shared frustration with their parents. As much as she wanted to be helpful to her sister, though, she had no leg to stand on. If her mother wanted to live in denial, who was Alexis to drag her back to reality?
"Betsy," Joe's voice boomed from the family room. "How about some coffee?"
"Okay," Betsy called back. She pushed her chair back, but Alexis beat her to it.
"I'll make it," Alexis volunteered.
"You drink coffee?" Betsy asked.
"You make coffee?" Tilly added.
Alexis sucked in her breath as she retrieved a coffee filter from the cabinet and set to work. "You two act like I was some indolent slob who slurped tea all day and refused to help out around the house."
"That's not what I meant," Tilly said.
"Me neither," Betsy chimed in. "I just didn't know you drink coffee is all."
"It's true I didn't drink coffee in high school and I loved blueberry pancakes, but I hardly think people's eating and drinking habits stay exactly the same their whole lives."
Alexis hit the start button and returned to the table, relieved to get that minor detail off her chest. It certainly didn't bridge the gap of her seventeen-year absence, but it was a start.
When Alexis finally wrapped up her visit to Betsy's house, she was ready for a few hours of solitude before she ventured to Gatsby's. She'd decided to accept Ty's invitation while sitting in Betsy's kitchen, listening to her father complain about the current government. His complaints hadn't changed, just the names of the people at fault. The thought of sitting in her bedroom listening to her father yell at the television all night was unappealing, to say the least.
Alexis felt nervous about going to see Ty play. What if, after all his talk of passion and a good life, he was a terrible musician? What would she say? Alexis wasn't the best liar when it came to putting someone at ease. People skills were not her specialty. On the other hand, if he was terrible, he might look less attractive to her. That would be a bonus. Suddenly, a small part of her hoped that his musical talent would be nonexistent.