Truly (New York 1)

May brushed on one more coat of mascara as she thought about her answer, her mouth hanging open because for whatever reason she couldn’t apply eye makeup with her lips closed. “Just be.” She turned around and hopped up on the vanity so she could see Allie’s face.

“Just be.” Allie repeated the words back to her, and May saw that her sister’s cheeks were blotchy, her eyes red-rimmed. She must have cried a bunch more during the conversation with Matt.

“Yeah. Turn off every single filter that says, No, that’s not you, and No, you can’t wear that, and No, that’s not what you’re supposed to be doing, and just be.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

The question was flippant, but Allie’s eyes weren’t. She wanted to know.

“So far, it’s got its pluses and minuses.”

Allie smiled. Then she dropped her head and wrapped one arm around her middle.

“Al?”

She lifted her eyes. Tears streaked down her cheeks, but she was smiling. “That is such a May thing to say.”

May closed her eyes, smiling back even as her throat pinched shut. “Why aren’t we drinking yet?”

“I don’t know. It’s a problem. Hang on.”

Allie came back a minute later with two glasses, a corkscrew, and a bottle of red wine that had been at the back of May’s cabinet for ages. May hopped down to open it, threw the cork into the sink, and poured generously.

“Should we toast?” Allie asked.

May’s nose wrinkled. “No. Ben toasts. We get schnockered without ceremony.”

“Okay.” Allie lifted the glass, closed her eyes, and drank half its contents in one go. She licked her lip. “Where did this come from?”

“I think some random woman gave it to Dan after a game.”

“It tastes expensive.”

“Good. Let’s drink it really fast.”

“You’re such a tactical genius.”

May knocked back a slug of wine, enjoying the way its cool, dark taste sent fingers of warmth into her chest and down toward her stomach.

“Where did you get those pants? Your butt looks so good in those pants.”

“My thighs look like anacondas.”

Allie stepped back and assessed. “Yeah, but in a completely awesome way.”

“That’s what I thought, too. Dare I ask how the talk went with Matt?”

Allie tipped back her glass and drained it. “You may dare.”

May raised an eyebrow.

“He thanked me.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Oh, May, he was so mature and great,” Allie moaned. “He thanked me, and he said he’d known I was having some doubts, and he was glad I’d told him because he didn’t want to trap me into a marriage that was wrong for me. And that he wishes me well and he’ll always love me as a friend, and that—” Allie set her glass on the countertop. May refilled it. “That is when I started crying. Then I cried for twenty minutes and he gave me tissues and patted my back.”

Allie drank a lot more wine, very quickly, and then wiped her hand over her mouth. “He actually meant all of it, too. I am the worst person in the entire universe.”