The doorbell rang, and I froze. John. Before I could rush downstairs to head off my parents, I heard footsteps in the foyer. A brief moment later the familiar tenor of my father’s voice drifted up to me. I took a deep breath and held it, listening as intently as I could. “You must be John,” my dad said. He used his accountant’s voice; firm and business-like. “I am.” “Nice to finally put a face to the name,” Dad said. “Please come in. I believe Blake is upstairs getting ready and doing whatever it is girls do before they go on a date.” John laughed. “Thank you, Mr. Ehlert. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your wife already, but it’s nice to meet you, too. You have a beautiful home, by the way.” I smiled and rolled my eyes, wiggling my feet into my red patent-leather sandals and pulling the straps in place around my ankles.
