“Oh! So the entire time I thought we were having a swell time, watching movies here on the couch and hanging out at Nick’s, you were miserable? Good to know!”

“That wasn’t what I meant and you know it.”

“Actually, I don’t. I don’t know much of anything about you these days, since you’re always off hanging out with Drew and having babies.”

“I haven’t even had my one baby yet,” Annie says in a low voice. “Why are you being like this?”

“You mean, why am I stating my perfectly valid feelings?”

She shakes her head. “I know you don’t mean any of this. This isn’t like you. The Chloe I know wouldn’t want other people to be unhappy just because she is.”

I pause, pressing my lips together as I let that statement hang in the air like it’s a physical object. And then finally, my voice as calm as I can make it, I ask, “You think I’m unhappy?”

“What I think—” Annie starts, but I’m not done. I cut her off.

“Oh no, I have more questions. See, I thought we were best friends, but do you think I’m some jealous bitch? Do you think I want what you have?”

“That’s not what I—”

“I get it. You’re off living your glamorous life now, all movie premieres and rubbing elbows with directors and, oh yeah, marrying movie stars, and I’m back here in the sticks, living my sad, pathetic life.”

“Okay, no, let me talk,” Annie says, her face flushed red. She bites her lip, then keeps talking. “I don’t think you’re jealous. I don’t think you want my life. And I sure don’t think you’re sad and pathetic—I love you. But I do think you’re stressed out and you’re overworked and for some reason, you won’t let any of us help you, because you’ve got this pathological need to do everything yourself. I’ve been asking you and texting you over and over, trying to get you to talk to me, but you won’t. I mean, I had to get updates on your dad from Milo.”

I freeze. “You talked to Milo?”

“Because you won’t tell me anything!” she says, exasperated, flinging her arms in the air. “I’m trying to be here for you, Chloe. You can talk to me, you can let me help you! You don’t have to make twelve pies for my wedding by yourself, or take care of your dad by yourself, or do everything all by yourself. Let someone in. Let someone take even the smallest burden off your shoulders.”

I swallow. “Uh, okay, thanks for the advice. Glad to know you and Milo have been discussing my life behind my back.”

“Chloe,” Annie says, eyes wide. “Please don’t be like this, okay? We’re best friends. I don’t want to fight.”

“I’m not a Real Housewife, Annie. I don’t love to fight either. But guess what? We’re fighting. I’m mad. Your movie ruined my life.”

She gasps and takes a step away from me. The two of us stare at each other, not saying anything, until tears appear at the corners of her eyes. The penis antennae bob sadly and I’m too mad to even appreciate what a hilarious detail that is.