My Favourite Part

65(b): the good bits

Scott Kellerman

The Channings' house might just be the coziest I've ever seen.

And not 'cosy' in the 'I'm trying to call your house small without offending you' way that posh people mean it, but genuinely cosy.

The kitchen isn't massive: it's big enough for a lively family breakfast and no bigger. Family holiday photos hang and/or stick to every surface they can, from the fridge to the corridor walls. There are fuzzy rugs under thrifted lampshades, and it couldn't feel more like a home if it tried.

When Evangeline opened that front door, looking oh-so-cosy in an oversized hoodie and the cutest little pink pyjama shorts, and the weak golden porch light lit up her freckled ivory skin, it all clicked. Of course...

Of course she came from the kind of home with a witty welcome mat, and a loving little sister, and a mother that was a mother but knew how to have a little fun.

Evangeline's always had this fire about her. I'd often wondered where it came from, and what gave her that little light that she takes with her everywhere she goes.

But I watched them all; their faces bright with laughter as August helped their mum up the stairs to bed, and Evangeline helped mine find the bathroom. Before she disappeared up the stairs, Evangeline turned back to me for a moment, her twinkle alive in her eye as she shot me a bright grin and a mimed 'be right back!' In that instant, I couldn't help but think yep. Now that's a family full of light.

"Is she ready to go?" I stand to my feet and ask Evangeline when she re-enters the living room.

"Umm," she sings with her head tilted and eyes wandering suspiciously.

"Oh no. What's she done?"

"Nothing! She's just... she fell asleep in my room."

Before I can march upstairs and haul her out of Evangeline's bed and into the car, Evangeline grabs hold of my jacket sleeve, tugging me back.

"Scott, it's fine!"

"It's not, Evangeline. You shouldn't have to go without a bed just because my mother got piss drunk. I'll go up and get her."

Wait. She's sleeping in Evangeline's room.

"Uh, I mean, may I go and get her?"

"No you may not," Evangeline teases, and this time she grabs my whole arm to yank me down onto the cushion beside her.

"Scott, seriously. We have a guest room and an array of lovely sofas for me to choose from," she says, with a robotic hostly smile as she gestures to the chairs.

I can tell she means it when she settles into the sofa, her legs crossed comfortably beneath her. "Plus, I'm sure she'll be up soon enough. You can just chill here if you want, until then?"

"Chill here? Like, with you, you mean?" I ask stupidly. Smooth, Scott.

"Duh. It'll be like a sleepover!" She cheeps. "Come on – we can play Knock Down Ginger, braid each other's hair, tell our deepest, darkest secrets..."

I don't even know if it's a good idea, but my heart rate picks up and I give in to her adorable little grin before I can stop myself.

"Alright. You've sold me," I smile, with no clue what I'm in for.

"Wonderful."

***

"...Are you sure these are for cereal?"