Amy is here. My mom repeats the words again and again as she dances towards the door. I stand resentfully from my seat in the backyard and walk into the house to meet my brother's future fiance.
I watch as my mom wraps her in a loving embrace and see her smile. Her teeth are perfectly straight and white. Her brown curls stick out in all directions vaguely reminding me of a poodle with the eagerness of a golden retriever. When her brown eyes lock on me, I suppress the urge to run.
"Hannah!" She exclaims as she wraps her arms around me in a bone-crushing hug similar to those of my mothers.
I once again mentally note to call my chiropractor.
"You must be Amy," I say with the air left in my lungs.
"That I am! I'm so happy to meet you! Oh my goodness, you look like a pretty version of your brother!" She turns to my mother as she points at my face, "It's incredible the pictures didn't do you justice, your eyes are the exact same!"
"Yeah, we get that a lot," Hank says casually placing an arm around her shoulders.
"Do we?" I ask deadpan.
Hank shoots me a look but Amy misses it entirely.
"I'm so excited to get to know you better, I feel like I already know you Hank talks about you so often but wow! Meeting you in the flesh! You're probably as funny as he says you are too!" She laughs like wind chimes and continues without a breath, "Anyways we should grab lunch just us too. Maybe tomorrow? Or another day?"
"I'm building tomorrow but for sure, sometime we should," I answer trying to be polite.
Internally I'm pretty sure lunch with Amy would take hours as she'd give me a soliloquy between every bite. But I smile warmly as my mom pours her a glass of wine and we all settle around the dinner table.
After a drink, the doorbell rings again.
"That must be the pizza," I say as I stand, eager to escape the table.
I walk down the familiar hallway to the door.
I see the tall figure through the glass and pause.
I'd recognize him anywhere. So I take a minute and look at my reflection in the entryway mirror. I brush my bangs to the side and fix my ponytail, check my teeth and exhale.
"What are you doing here?" I ask as I open the door.
"I am bringing pizza?" He answers holding up the boxes.
"I'll take those," I say and he hands them over.
Then I kick the door closed and turn away.
Will laughs as he opens the door. "Very funny, but you didn't lock it."
"I'll remember next time." I smile sweetly at him and then ask, "Are you here to see Amy."
"Yeah, Hank asked me to come by. Then you're mom called to tell me I was to show up or else."
"Sweet of her." I joke. We both know when my mom sets a command it's anything but sweet.
More like terrifying.
"There's our boy!" My mom yells as Will comes into view of the back door.
He slides through the door as I grab plates and stack them onto pizza boxes.
For a second I stand there and stare. He is enveloped by them, completely welcome, completely at home. I can't help but compare the reaction to my homecoming and quickly shove it from my brain.
I know my family loves me. I know my brother loves me.
But, I think they might just love Will more.
Part of me is grateful since I-
I shake the thought from my head and enter the fray. Pizza is passed around and before I know it, everyone is well into their second glass of wine or beer.
I sip mine from the can and sit quietly listening to Amy blabber on about her job.
"So how did you two meet?" Amy asks.
I look to my mother and she's staring back at me. Amy is looking at me. Why is Amy looking at me?
Then her eyes glance to Will.
"Wait? Will and I?" I ask confused.
"Yeah"
Hank snickers into his third glass of Chardonnay and I kick him in the shins beneath the table.
"I can't remember." I lie. "It was so long ago."
"Liar." Will accuses.
I swiftly kick him in the shins as well. Damn him for knowing me so well.
"Fine, since Hannah is feeling shy I'll share."
He clears his throat and sits up straight.
"So, Hank and I were in the same class in grade two, which is when we officially met. But we didn't become friends until grade three.
Hannah was in the first grade on the first day of school. You were wearing that ridiculous pink dress."
"That dress was cute!" My mom defends.
"That adorable pink dress," Will amends. "We were on the school bus on the way home. I sat in the middle of the bus where my grade was supposed to sit. You climbed up and walked past the other first graders, they'd all blocked their seats from you because you were covered in wet glue. My seat was empty and you sat down."
I laugh, "Miss Hannigan had it out for me because of that and it was totally Tim's fault."
"Anyways you sat down, completely sticky, and me being my curious self reached out and touched your shoulder. Do you remember what you said?"
"Careful, or you'll be stuck with me," I say with a small smile.
I feel the blood rise to my cheeks and take another sip of my beer.
"And I smiled, and said I'm sure that wouldn't be so bad. And then, she being Hannah, began to list all the ways it would suck to be attached together. There were a lot of poop jokes."
"I was six, no five!"
"The next day in class Hank came up to me and said I'd better not get stuck to his sister, and that his mom got mad at you for relaying all my ideas of the cons of being stuck together at the table."
He shrugs, "Sorry Maggie."
"I'll forgive you," Mom says with a smile.
"Anyways, Hank then told me he'd thought of other options and we spent the rest of recess talking about it."
"And then I didn't leave you alone for the rest of the school year."
"Or any day since then." Will laughs. "Hannah was my very first friend."
I smile at him because I know how hard he had it before that moment.
Will hadn't had any money and none of the kids played with him. I really was his first friend ever. And the thought still brought me to tears. I looked down to my un-pedicured toenails and examined them.
"So how long did you guys date?" Amy asks.
Will spits out his sip of beer over them empty pizza boxes.
"Sorry?" I ask awkwardly.
"Oh, no, well, I just thought after Hank told me. I'm sorry. My mistake."
The blush is pounding in my cheeks and I feel it spreading down my neck.
"Hank? Want to help me clear the dishes."
"Nope."
"Hank."
"Yep." He stands and helps me clear away the plates.
"Dude, you told her about-""
Of course, I did."
"You're the worst."
"She's my future wife."
"Well, I hope she says no." I snap back and immediately regret it. "Sorry,"
"It's fine. Forget it."
He walks back outside and I'm left with my head in my hands wondering how my virginity ever became a topic my brother discussed.