Page 3 of Rearranged

Annabel gestured toward the street. “I totally would, but there’s an aggressive dude who wants my parking space. He’s resorted to hand gestures that aren’t very polite. And, you know”—she brought her phone up to flash the time—“I’ve given you, like, a thousand minutes already. I’ve been waiting out there for an hour.”

“Fine, fine. We’re ready,” Poppy announced, detaching from our hug.

I tried to fix my hair, knowing I probably looked like hell. I brushed away any liquid stuck to my cheeks, paying close attention to the finger swipes under my eyes to get rid of runny makeup.

“Change of plans. I’m sending you on an errand,” Poppy said to Annabel. “We need a large pepperoni pizza—extra cheese, extra pepperoni—and a pint of double chocolate ice cream, stat. A fancy brand, not one of those cheapy tub ones.” She waggled her finger. “We’ll meet you at Eve’s place once you have the goods.”

“You don’t have to do that, Annabel,” I told her, ashamed that she was being ordered to take care of me. “Your sister’s just trying to be nice. I don’t want you to run errands.”

Annabel snorted. The sound was equal—to the note—to her sister’s. Dainty, precise, and to the point. “Nice try, but you’re not escaping an emotional intervention with that tyrant in charge.” She gestured at Poppy, who huffed, then giggled. “I’m happy to do the running. It’s no hassle. And, I mean, it’s clear you need a pick-me-up. I’ll see you both in thirty.”

I lived a few blocks from Poppy in Capitol Hill. Annabel already knew her way around the city. “I’m assuming the pizza has to come from Giovanni’s?”

“No—” I started.

“Of course it has to be from Giovanni’s,” Poppy snapped. “Have I taught you nothing?”

“Fine, but I’m charging that guy for my parking space. He owes me.”