Everyone assumed she’d build a staircase and join the two places, but she doesn’t care to, in part because of her rabbit, a male named Tina, who runs freely throughout her home, eating it. “I didn’t want anybody loud to move in,” she explained. It’s a one-bedroom in the West Village, and when its twin became available directly upstairs from her, she bought it. She was dealing with a new place as well, though hers was downtown, and in the same building she’d occupied for the last 10 years. “ Mmmmm, buttery biscuits are what makes a house a home!”Īmy with her male rabbit, Tina. “And how about some biscuits to go with that chicken?” she’d ask, positioning a number of rolled-up white socks on a baking sheet and popping them into the oven. When it came to pretend, I was spent after 20 minutes, while she could go on all afternoon, and well into the evening. In real life, Amy is thoughtful and low-key, more apt to ask a question than answer one.īack in our Raleigh kitchen, I’d admire the way she could fake-smile, and convincingly act as if something was burning. The word quirky gets tossed around as well, but she’s neither of those things. People who watched her on Letterman, or see her now on The Late Show or Later Than Late, or Now It’s So Late It’s Actually Early, think of her as bubbly. Amy, on the other hand, appears completely at home. I go on talk shows and look like a hostage, my hands twisted in my lap, my eyes darting this way and that, counting the seconds until the host releases me. “And how!” I might add, or “Who doesn’t like chicken?” She was at ease in front of the nonexistent cameras, while I tended to freeze up, qualities that would continue into our adulthoods when the cameras became real. “And if your family is anything like mine, they’re guaranteed to lllllove it.” “Today we’re going to make fried chicken,” Amy would say in an artificially bright voice. I wish they’d been better names, but we were only 8 and 12 at the time. I don’t remember if we were supposed to be man and wife, or if we were just friends. When we were young, my sister Amy and I used to pretend that we had a hospitality show.
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