Thanks to Bump, I now know who she is. Q’s oldest sister’s daughter.
We all climb out of the SUV, and an older woman joins the girl in the doorway.
“You’re just in time. Mike has only started devouring the guacamole. You might be able to get some before he finishes it,” the older woman calls.
Gabriel holds my hand as we head up the walk, and Roux slides by us and dodges right between the two women, making her way into the house. The younger girl giggles as Roux’s tail slaps her leg.
“Bump! I brought my Xbox so we can play after Grandpa’s game is over. Aunt Zoe set up a giant screen in the backyard so we can watch outside, and the players will be as big as you!”
“No way! As big as me?” Bump high-fives her, but the girl’s smile disappears when she sees me, and a look of apprehension sneaks over her features.
Wait. What’d I do? I hope I didn’t mess up this family barbecue thing already. Did I?
“Joanie and Mel, this is Scarlett. Scarlett, meet Joanie, Q’s mom, and Melanie, his niece.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Thank you so much for inviting us today.” I hold out my hand, but Joanie ignores it and wraps me in a hug.
“I’m so glad to finally meet you, Scarlett. You have no idea how long we’ve been waiting for one of these boys to meet someone we could invite over.”
“Mom . . .” Q’s voice comes from behind the two women, who are still blocking the doorway.
“She knows what I mean, Marcus. It’s not like she wasn’t aware of Gabe’s reputation when she started dating him.” Joanie turns her attention back to me. “Please, come in. It’s probably not what you’re used to, but it’s our home, and we hope you like it.”
The younger girl bites down hard on her lip, and I think I see a little of what’s going on here. They know exactly who I am.
Sometimes, being well-known is a double-edged sword because people have all sorts of opinions and expectations about you before you even say hello. So I do the only thing that I can think of to reset things to even.
“I’ve never been to a family barbecue before, so you’re going to have to tell me if I’m screwing something up. I don’t know how to cook, but I am really good at setting a table and washing dishes. Please, put me to work. I’ve got two hands, and they’re at your disposal.”
The girl’s eyes go wide. “You wash dishes? No way. Seriously?”
I wiggle my very capable hands in the air, spirit-finger style. “Of course. That’s what you do after you get them dirty, right?”
“But you’re Scarlett Priest. You’re like a bajillionaire celebrity. If you still have to do dishes . . . what hope is there for me?”
Thankfully, her teenage exasperation breaks the ice, and everyone, including Gabriel, Q, and Joanie, starts laughing.
“Poor kid. She was really hoping that when she’s a rich and famous YouTuber someday, she won’t have to cook, clean, or do laundry,” Joanie says, wiping a tear from her eye. “Her dreams are crushed.”
“You’re a YouTuber?” I ask Melanie.
She shrugs. “Not really yet. I make a ton of videos, but Mom and Dad won’t let me post anything. They’re worried that people are going to make fun of me or say mean things, and that it’ll hurt me. I have to wait until I’m sixteen before I can start posting.” She rolls her eyes. “Like age is going to make it easier to take.”
I can’t argue with her parents being protective or waiting until she’s a little older, but she certainly has the personality for it, at least from what I’ve seen and heard so far.
Joanie moves out of the doorway and ushers us inside. “Come on, get your appetizers while the food is hot. Mike will eat everything in sight if you don’t claim them quick. The man is a garbage disposal. Luckily, it doesn’t take away from that cute butt of his, so I haven’t put him on a diet yet.”
Gabriel kisses both her cheeks. “You know you’d never put him on a diet. You love making all that food and watching him devour it.”
“Ain’t that the damned truth? But, still, go get you some before it’s cold. Carrie and Dani are out back with Zoe. The men were trying to tell her how to set up her projector, and I’m surprised no one has lost a limb. They’ve officially been forbidden from touching anything with a cord for the rest of the day.”
Gabriel chuckles. “Sounds like Zoe. Tony and Chris should’ve known better.”
“Damn right! Zoe’s the best,” Bump says, craning his neck to see inside.
Joanie narrows her eyes on him. “Watch your language in this house, boy. You know the rules.”
“If I want to eat, I can’t cuss,” Bump singsongs with a heavy sigh. “You know how hard that is to remember? Because your food is so f—”
“You better be saying freaking,” Melanie says quickly.
“Yeah, freaking good,” Bump says, finishing with an angelic smile.
“Mm-hmm. I know what you’re trying to do. Butter me up so you can ask me what I made for dessert. You’ll have to wait with the rest of them, Bump. Now, go on.” Joanie swats him with her towel.
This is what a real family looks like. My heart is full as Gabriel lays his hand on the small of my back, and I precede him into the house.
Once we’re all in the backyard, I’m introduced to Q’s other sisters and their husbands. Dani and Tony and Carrie and Christopher seem nice, and I feel lucky I’ve got everyone’s names memorized so I don’t make a blunder that way.
When everybody starts moving through the line to get food, Melanie situates herself at my side. Gabriel smiles at her and shoots me a wink before walking up to the grill to grab a burger from Big Mike.
“How do you deal with it?” Melanie asks as I scoop fruit salad onto my plate.
I glance at her, and she dips into the potato salad. “How do I deal with what?”
“People everywhere knowing who you are. Dealing with the mean things they say about you. The nasty comments on your posts.”
I think of the troll that’s been the bane of my existence for the last several months. “It’s not easy sometimes, but it’s part of the deal.”
“Like you get so big that you don’t have a choice but to have assholes come at you?”
I turn my head, almost sure Joanie’s going to hear her swear, and somehow we’ll both get yelled at. But Joanie is bustling back into the kitchen, no doubt for more food.
“Yeah, pretty much. Anytime something or someone is popular, the haters come out.”
“It’s even worse online than in person, isn’t it?” Melanie asks.
“It can be. People don’t think as much about what they say when they type a quick, nasty remark on your post like they would if they were saying it to your face. There’s anonymity and safety behind those little avatars on our screens.”
Melanie’s mouth screws into a pout. “This is why we can’t have nice things. Because people are dicks. It’s so annoying. I’m over it.”
“Is someone being mean to you?” I ask her, feeling my protective instincts rise.
She shrugs. “Most people know who my uncle and Gabe are, so only the real idiots bother me.”