The backyard is overflowing with people. It’s a perfect summer day—clear, sunny, and not too hot. Long tables line the patio, covered with dishes of food. My father is standing at the giant gas grill, which is his pride and joy, flipping burgers. My mother is in her element, placing tiny paper umbrellas in glasses of lemonade between replenishing appetizers. Most of the party attendees are friends of my parents, close to them in age, but the whole neighborhood was invited. There are a few couples here with younger kids, most of who are splashing around in the pool.

I head for my mom first. Sloane follows.

“Hey, Mom. Happy anniversary.”

“Evie!” My mom’s smile rivals the sun’s wattage as she hugs me tightly. She smells the same as always—like lemon and eucalyptus with a faint hint of chlorine.

I think my parents were worried I’d stay north after graduation. They’ve both made their relief that I decided to return to Charleston to complete my residency obvious.

“Happy anniversary, Mrs. C,” Sloane says, hugging my mom after me. She’s the youngest of eight and spent more time at my house than at her own growing up.

“Thank you, Sloane.” My mom beams. “I’m so happy you’re both here. Help yourself to some food.”

Sloane grabs a plate and starts filling it.

“I’m going to go say hi to Dad first,” I announce.

He’s still standing by the grill, proudly wearing The Grillfather apron Noah and I got him years ago, as he talks with Henry Phillips. Our next-door neighbor, my dad’s best friend, Gray Phillips’s father…and the chief of the hospital where I started my residency a few days ago. Which makes him my boss’s boss’s boss, basically.

“Hey, Dad,” I say when I reach him.

My dad hugs me to his side with a squeeze while simultaneously flipping sizzling meat. “Leigh-Leigh! You made it!”

I cringe at the childhood nickname. “I live ten minutes away now, Dad. Of course I made it.”

My dad chuckles. “I’m sure you had better ways to spend your Saturday.”

Not really. My social life is sadly lacking. The only reason Sloane hasn’t successfully dragged me out to a bar yet is because we’ve been too busy with our new jobs and unpacking.

I turn to greet Henry. “Hi, Dr. Phillips.”

He’s insisted I call him Henry since I was little, but the dynamic between us has changed. I sat in a sea of awed faces during orientation as he welcomed us all to Charleston General Hospital. I personally witnessed his mere presence in an examination room make an experienced surgeon’s hands tremble.

He chuckles. “Save the formalities for the hospital, Dr. Collins.” He winks.

Even after years of hard work to earn the title, it still feels weird to hear it.

“How have your first few days been?”