Suddenly I feel bodies near me and arms wrapping around me.
“Shh, Annie! It’s okay!” Maddie says with her face pressing into my neck so she can hug me tighter.
“We love you,” Emily adds, brushing my hair back away from my face like the affectionate mother hen she is. “Everything about you. I’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t be honest with us or that we were making fun of how kind and sweet you are. I’m sorry we made you feel like that’s the only version you could be of yourself around us.”
Amelia is here too. “And I’m sorry that I’ve encouraged your constant sunniness. I—more than anyone—should have seen the signs that you were worn-out from always having to be perfect, but I didn’t see it.”
We are all four sobbing now. None of us really sound coherent, and yet we all understand one another perfectly.
“No, it’s okay,” I say to Amelia while reaching up and removing her penis necklace that’s poking me in the eye. “It’s no one’s fault.”
After a minute, Maddie stands up. “Because we’re all being honest here, I have a few things to say too.” She takes a breath. “I haven’t been totally honest with you guys either. I applied to The Culinary Institute of America, and…I got in. I enrolled for this upcoming fall semester, and I’m going.” She levels a firm look at Emily. “I’m going no matter what anyone has to say about it.”
There’s so much silence. I don’t think anyone is even breathing. We’re just absorbing.
And then…
“Finally!” we all say in unison before tackling Madison to the ground.
“Maddie! I’m so happy for you!” I say, kissing Maddie’s cheek until it smooshes up.
“I hate you for leaving us,” says Emily, “but I’m so happy that you are finally following your dreams.”
“Does this mean you’re not mad at me?” Maddie asks through her laughter.
I pull back and frown lightly. “Why would we be mad at you?”
She shrugs. “Why would I be mad at you for asking me not to call you Angel Annie anymore?”
“Touché.”
“But actually—I have one more secret too. I think you’re going to like this one, though.” Maddie disappears into her room and comes back out holding…a box. She sets it next to mine and then tells me to look inside.
I open the flap and then laugh so loudly when I see a pile of bodice-ripping romances.
She grins. “I’m more into dukes and earls than pirates, though.”
I press my hand to my heart. “You like men with Big Duke Energy too?”
“Oh yeah. I also have a Bookstagram account. It’s how I actually learned about the term stern brunch daddy.”
Emily then groans beside me and stands. “Fine. If we’re all doing this, I don’t want to be left out.”
Want to take a guess what she goes and gets? Her own box. And as we all dissolve with laughter pulling her little mass-market paperbacks from their hiding place, we learn that Emily has a major thing for Scottish romances.
Amelia pouts because she doesn’t live here and doesn’t have a box of books. We tell her she can still be a part of our group, though, because we’ll always have Audrey. She does, however, scoop up an armload of books from each of our boxes and sets them by the door to take home.
It’s a good night and I feel a thousand times lighter. Mabel was right, honesty is a gift, and one I wish I had shared with my sisters sooner. Then again, maybe everything is happening in its own perfectly messy timing.
After sitting together on the floor, penis necklaces around our necks and unpacking a lot of the things I admitted to them—we also talk about our parents and how I feel left out from their memories. Emily admitted that it’s hard for her to talk about them, but she would try to do better.
And then just when I thought I was going to get away from this night without anyone being mad at me, Maddie pinches me under the arm.
“Ow!” I say, ripping my arm away from her.
“That was for not telling us about John and all the shitty stuff he said to you!”
“It was all too embarrassing,” I say, shooting my gaze to the ground. “Now more than ever because I’m head over heels for Will, and he’s already moved on before he’s even left Rome. I haven’t heard from him in a few days.”
That’s when I notice all of the ladies sharing a look. A meaningful someone’s-gotta-tell-her look.