I jump up and make my way into the house, speeding up the stairs.
After a quick shower, I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, my hair still dripping wet when, unbidden, the memory of the day I told my family about the girl in the alley flashes through my mind. I shake it out of my head and focus on getting ready. I walk into my room, where I pull out a pair of dark -b lue jeans and a white long -s leeved shirt and place them on top of my already -m ade bed. I decide to wear the watch Dad bought me for graduation—it’s not an everyday item, but today is spe cial.
“Hello, Elvis.” Lizzie is standing outside my bedroom, in the hall, with a basket full of Allison’s folded clo thes.
“Hi, Lizzie.” I greet her with a s mile.
“I’m looking forward to meeting Scarlette today,” she says, smiling kindly back at me. “She must be very special for you to bring her to the h ouse.”
Lizzie gives me a long, knowing look and then walks away, towards Allison’s room.
“She is,” I say under my br eath.
Time can’t pass fast enough. I keep going to my bedroom window and peeking out to see if she’s here yet. I don’t want to miss Scarlette’s arrival. I’ve already made sure the gates are open for her, tidied my room, and messed with my unruly hair several times. There’s nothing left for me to do but wait. It’s now nearly one o’clock. After a few more agonizing minutes, I see a little black car slowly driving in. She’s here! My heart starts to d ance.
I walk to the stairs, jumping to the bottom as usual. I want to greet Scarlette outside; that way I can walk in with her. She’s feeling anxious, and I want to be beside her, to calm her before she comes face to face with my entire family. As I reach out to open the front doors, I hear my parents, along with Allison and Logan, from the kitchen, but I pay them no attention and make my way outside before they can get there first and hover over her like a pack of wo lves.
I watch Scarlette park her Rio, admiring her through her windshield. I can tell she’s surprised by the grandeur of my home. She gets out of the car, still gazing around the property.
I wrap my arm around her little waist and turn her to fac e me.
“You look beautiful,” I say.
“Thanks, E lvis.”
“You changed your mind again about the colour of your shirt, I see,” I tell her, with a sarcastic tone to my voice, chuckling at
the thought of how many times she must have changed after I hun g up.
She doesn’t say anything, just blu shes.
“I like red on you!” I say, pulling her even closer t o me.
She chuckles. “Some things inspire change,” she says, “Was it a good choice then?”
“Scarlette, red is a perfect choice,” I say. “Come on, everyone is waiting to meet you.”
Scarlette sighs, tightening her hold o n me.
“Don’t be nervous. It will be epic!” I tell her with a s mirk.
“Epic? Elvis! After what happened last time, you might not want to tell me that right before I meet your family,” she says, squeezing me tig hter.
I slip my hand in hers, and she presses her fingers tightly around mine. We walk towards the concrete steps to the house, but I stop us halfway, pulling her even closer to me. I bring my mouth down to her ear and whisper, “It’s going to be great, Scarl ette.”
She takes a deep breath, staring at the front doors. “I love the sound of your voice, Elvis. It always calms me,” she says, pressing against my gentle kiss on her c heek.
We walk in to see Allison wandering in the foyer. She looks at us both with a huge smile on her face and greets Scarlette in a high
-p itched voice, her excitement in full force t oday.
“Hi! We are so happy to meet you,” she says, walking towards us with her arms stretched out to hug Scarl ette.
Seeing them embrace, I feel a rush. This meeting is already off to a good start. Logan is standing behind my sister, reaching his hand out to introduce him self.
“Logan,” he tells her, smi ling.
“Come into the kitchen. My parents are waiting for you two,”
Allison informs us, walking away, hand in hand with L ogan.
We follow, leaving the front foyer, and as we near the kitchen, my father’s voice becomes louder. I feel Scarlette’s hand grip my arm. She stops and stares a t me.
“Whose voice is that?” she asks.
I give her a calming s mile.
“Just my dad. Don’t let his deep voice scare you,” I tell her, pulling her by the hand into the kitchen. My parents both stop their conversation as soon as they notice us, and my father immediately makes eye contact with Scarlette, welcoming her with a delightful smile. He walks over with his arm stretched out to her for a hands hake.
“Hello, Scarlette. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says, both his hands holding hers in a gentle squ eeze.
“It’s very nice to meet you too, Dr. Sullivan,” she replies, stuttering slightly. She must be more nervous than I tho ught.
My dad smiles at her again. “Call me Ar cher.”
Scarlette nods, keeping her lips locked in place. My mother walks over and opens her arms, giving her a sweet hug. “Welcome to our home, darling,” she tells her, looking kindly into her eyes, as Lizzie appears by the middle island, setting down a tray full of hors d’oeu vres.
“Scarlette, this is Lizzie,” I say.
Lizzie moves quickly around the chairs, making her way over for a hug of her own, and I can sense Scarlette slowly getting more comfort able.
We each take a seat at the island, enjoying the food. As usual, everyone is talking at once. Allison takes a seat beside Scarlette, chatting away with her and giggling. I can’t help but feel content, seeing them all sitting there toge ther.
My parents are having their own conversation on the side when my dad looks over at Scarlette with a soft smile. She notices his gesture, making eye con tact.
“Which hospital do you work at, Dr. Sullivan?” she asks.
“Archer,” he requests a gain.
“Archer,” she repeats, offering him a shy grin.
He thinks for a few seconds before answering. “I have my own practice, a Heart Centre in West Vancouver. But I float across the country. I also train and guide young doctors new to cardio logy.”
Scarlette seems surprised by his response. “Oh … you’re a heart doctor?” she asks.
“A heart surgeon,” Adam interrupts, appearing in the kitchen with Natalie by his side.
“You must be Scarlette.” He smiles. “I’m Elvis’s big brother, Adam, and this is my girlfriend, Nat alie.”
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Scarlette says as they take a seat at the is land.
“Where did you grow up, Scarlette?” my mother asks.
“I grew up in Burnaby. Just off of Hastings St reet.”
I think of the Black’s banquet hall on Hastings. I never knew she grew up around that area. My memory quickly goes places I don’t want it to, but I bring myself back to reality, remembering how much I’m enjoying this mo ment.
“What do you like to do, Scarlette?” my father asks.
“Um … I like to paint. My mother used to paint too. I used to enjoy watching her turn an empty canvas into a beautiful picture.” Her eyes glow with p ride.