Amelia stands up from the piano bench and launches herself onto the couch with me. She tackles me in a hug. “Don’t be mad at me, Annie! I can’t take your polite chitchat. It’s worse than a cold shoulder.” I resist her hug, tucking my arms tightly against my sides. Must resist the affection. She hugs even harder. Squeezing the daylights out of me. When I can’t stand it any longer, I blurt, “Fine! I give. Will said yes,” and then I return her hug, because not many people understand this about me, but I love affection.
