I don’t think I’ve ever felt this light and freeing in my life. The doctors have finally cleared my dad to go back home, and I haven’t been able to see him since he woke up. According to my mom, he’s been begging for us all to get together again and I want to be back at home.
Arthur gave me a dirty look when I walked through the doors, but I held my ground and my head high. He’s always been protective over me, but he’s started to just become an annoying leech. Even after all that went down, he’s not bothered to ask if I’m okay even if I was trapped in a room with a murderer. I know we’re never going to have a perfect relationship and I can live like that. I’ve got Henry and Leo when I need them, knowing they’ll always have my back. And Alex too, when he’s available to talk given the time difference.
Seeing my dad here, walking around, smiling is something I didn’t think I would see. As much as I tried to be optimistic, the possible reality was terrifying. I never thought I’d see him work a barbecue again. I never thought I’d see him smile as I surprised him at work. I never thought I’d hear him sing while spinning my mom around in the kitchen.
No matter how tense our relationship gets or how many times I’ve felt ignored by him, I’ve always known his intentions were good. All he’s wanted is to keep me safe which is why I was surprised he didn’t scream at me for putting myself in danger multiple times just to find out what happened to him. It’s all been worth it though. To be in my dad’s arms right now, neither of us saying anything as we hold on tight to each other, all of the pain has been worth it.
“Where’s your boyfriend? I thought he was coming,” my dad says when he pulls out of the hug, looking around the room as if Evan was just going to turn up out of thin air. That lasted longer than I thought. After keeping small talk just that — small — I knew my nosy family would be wondering about me finally finding my person.
“Word gets around here fast, doesn’t it,” I mutter, shooting Henry a look as I move out of my dad’s arms. He shrugs, innocently, downing a glass of orange juice.
“Not really. It was kind of obvious after the way he came rushing after you at the hospital,” Leo says, puffing a cloud of smoke into the air.
My mom walks behind him, pulling the joint from his lips and he frowns.
Everyone’s in here now: my dad sitting on the stool next to the island, my mom behind him rubbing his shoulders, Leo by the counter with a fresh joint in his hand and Henry by the fridge, eating as much as he can. There has nothing I’ve missed quite as much as I’ve missed this chaotic, brilliant, and wonderful family. They’re just my family. My perfectly imperfect family who are surprisingly okay with me dating someone they would have despised months ago, no matter how desperate my mom was to get me into a relationship.
“Why are you guys so chill about it?” I ask, looking between my brothers and my parents. Arthur is off brooding in the corner, being a complete baby about this. “You do know he’s a Branson, right?”
“We know, but I know he likes you. A lot. He always has,” my mom says, beaming at me dreamily. It’s been her dream for years for me to get into a stable relationship and now that I’m finally in one, she can’t stop smiling like a Cheshire cat.
“What do you mean, always?” I ask, confused. They must have been able to pick up on the fact we were faking it last time. It doesn’t take a genius. My mom’s smile is so wide I don’t know how her face doesn’t crack.
“You probably don’t remember when you went to your first event with us as a family and Evan was there. You two were the youngest at the kids table and you were crying because your brothers were leaving you out. He helped you stop crying and held your hand and walked you to us and told us to take care of you so you wouldn’t be alone.”
The flashbacks come back to me in a blur. I hardly remember many events from when I was a kid, but I knew I wasn’t the only child at them other than my brothers. There were always little kids running around, their parents scolding them for getting their Sunday best dirty. I do remember feeling lonely most of the time while my brothers purposefully left me out.
“That was him? I always thought it was some random boy, but it was… him.”
“Yes, my love. And he sent me a home cooked meal while I was in hospital after I woke up with a note and everything.”
“Nope. I was there when he came. I thought he already told you,” Henry says. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket, swiping until he pulls up a picture he took of a handwritten note. In Evan’s handwriting.
You don’t know me, but I wanted to tell you a few things. Firstly, I’m sorry you have to wake up to the news of your brother passing. From the very short conversation we had, he seemed like a kind person, and I know Scarlett cared for him a lot. You should know how highly your daughter talks of you. At first it was kind of annoying, knowing my dad isn’t exactly a saint but then I realised it’s because no matter how hard of a time you give each other you’re always there. She’s been working hard on trying to find out what happened to you and now that she has, she’s turned into an even more confident and brave woman. She makes me work for every smile she gives me. She frightens me by doing reckless things and grinning as if she didn’t try to give me a heart attack. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that all she really wants for you is to be seen, appreciated and respected. I know how important it is for her to be treated that way and I’ll try my best to do it too, but I ask one thing of you: look at Scarlett. Like, really, *look* at her. Because if you look long enough, you’ll see exactly what I see: an absolute angel.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, blinking at the phone like it’s going to disintegrate. “Holy, holy shit.”
“Are you done?” my mom murmurs. I nod, my mouth still wide open. “We’ve seen your designs, Scarlett.”
My heartbeat starts to pick up. I only showed Gio my designs because I know they’re not perfect. He managed to change a few and get them into the clothing discreetly, another designer taking credit so my dad wouldn’t know.
“You have? Did- Did you like them?” I ask nervously.
“They’re beautiful, tesoro,” my dad says, smiling wide.
He nods before sighing, dropping his shoulders. “I think I was so afraid of seeing what would happen if you became like us. If you were dragged into something as messy as it was these last few months, but you’ve proven to me that you can handle it. And with a little work with an expert, I’d want you to be our fashion designer for the new collection of Voss.”
Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming right? This is not supposed to happen to me. In my dream, I was meant to create a portfolio, present it to my dad and the board and then they’d accept me. Not this.
“Holy shit. Are you serious?” I exclaim, basically jumping with joy. God, my mouth is starting to hurt from smiling so much. My mom glares at me. “Sorry,” I mutter.
“Yes, my love, I’m serious,” my dad says, and he barely gets the words out before I trap him into another huge hug, his large arms wrapping around me tightly, tugging me closer to him.
I thought I was on cloud nine this morning, but now I’ve reached a new high. One I don’t ever want to come down from. When I get to Florentino’s there’s no queue and I get my coffee within two minutes. As I walk home in the dark, I don’t feel worried or unsafe near campus. It’s quiet out and my music shuffles to all the perfect songs. It’s a good day. It’s been a good day.
For once, I don’t feel like the feeling won’t last. I don’t worry that I’m going to run out of this insanely positive energy. I just want to bathe in it, soak it all up until it’s all I become. Just pure bliss.
Even when I get into bed later that night and I check my phone, I’m smiling at the screen so hard it almost cracks because Evan texted me. He sent me a picture of an adorable black kitten, smushed against his face. His cheeks are a little red in the photo, his smile contagious as this random kitten claws at his shirt. God, he looks so handsome like that and so cute at the same time. I immediately save the picture, adding it to an album I hope to keep adding to.
EVAN: Saw this kitten and thought of you. Tiny but viscous.
ME: Thinking about me. You’re like obsessed or something.
EVAN: Do you ever think about me?
EVAN: Sounds like a win to me.
ME: This oddly feels like that one episode of New Girl.
EVAN: GAVE ME COOKIE GOT YOU COOKIE!!!!
EVAN: You’d never do that. I can see that you saved it to your camera roll, Angel.
Me: Only so I can print it out and frame it.
I realise how that sounds and quickly send out another response.
ME: NOT IN A WEIRD WAY, YOU WEIRDO.
EVAN: Send me a pic of you. It’s only fair.
I sit up further in the bed. I look like a certified mess right now; my hair is unruly; I’m wearing one of Henry’s old shirts and sleep shorts. I’m not my usual put-together self. But with him, I don’t seem to care anymore. It’s hard to be concerned with how he sees me when he’s seen all of me – the good, the bad, and the ugly.
So, I send him a selfie, flipping him off.
ME: Saw this and thought of you. Hot, but still pisses me off.
EVAN: Are you calling me hot or yourself?
ME: My dad. The letter. The food. Holding my hand.
EVAN: I hope you know how proud I am of you. Like, so, fucking, sickeningly proud of you. You could do anything you wanted to. I’m in your corner, Scar. Always.
This is a new low for me because I’m sitting in my bed, staring at my phone screen as I start to cry over a text Evan has sent me. I might just be hormonal and overwhelmed with the amount of shit that has gone down these last few weeks. I try to compose a reply, but my eyes can’t help but snag on those words.
