For days Jo locked herself up in her sanctuary, telling everyone that she was working on a new novel, when in fact she was bawling her eyes out. She didn’t fool anybody, because it was clear from her puffy red eyes and swollen nose that she hadn’t spent the night writing.
Having decided it was time to face reality, Mother gently knocked on the door, and said, "Jo? May I come in?"
"Mmm . . . ," Jo said in a muffled voice. Seeing Mother’s kind, understanding eyes, Jo broke out in a new wave of tears.
"Shh, darling, just let it out," comforted Mother.
"It’s not fair," wept Jo. "She knew how much I wanted to travel to Europe. Every year she would make me believe that the next year I could come along, but now to choose Amy instead . . . it’s unbearable."
"Do you remember how you used to feel when you came home each day from Aunt March’s?" asked Mother.
Sniffing, Jo replied, "Yes. She annoyed me to no end."
"Now imagine if you had to spend all day and night with her for one year. Honestly, Jo, do you think you could manage that?" Mother reasoned with her.
Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, Jo thought about it but did not answer, so Mother continued, "You once told me about the hundreds of libraries and museums you wanted to visit. Do you think Aunt March would allow you the freedom to do that?"
Jo, who had stopped crying, shook her head and said, "I never thought about it that way. You’re right, Mother, Aunt March would never let me follow my own personal dreams. Instead I would be at her beck and call every moment of the day."
Patting Jo on the back, Mother said, "But Amy reacts differently as Aunt March rightly sees. Amy is quite happy going for tea, socializing, and taking strolls. That’s why she would be a better companion on this particular trip. Do you understand that now?"
Jo nodded heartily and said, "Yes, Mother. I’m still jealous that Amy is going to see Europe before me, but she deserves it. She is very good to Aunt March and to our neighbors."
Jo told Mother how well behaved Amy had been when they made their calls. Remembering how hard her sister worked to please others reminded Jo of Amy’s words on the road: "I still believe that good will come if we try to show kindness to others regardless of how they see us." Jo had to admit that she learned something quite valuable from her sister through this incident.
In the girls’ bedroom, Amy had a lot to do in preparation for her trip. "Aunt March says not to pack too many things since she will give me an allowance so I can get my dresses tailored in the European style," Amy said excitedly to Beth.
"Europeans are so cultured and stylish. I think you’re going to fit right in, Amy," said Beth.
"Thank you, Beth. You are too kind and I’m going to miss you terribly. I really am," Amy said, hugging her tightly.
"Have you packed away Mr. Huggie?" Jo called out loudly as she walked in. Mr. Huggie was an old stuffed animal that Amy used to sleep with when she was a little girl.
"Unfortunately there is no room for him in my suitcase," Amy said, pointing to her oversized luggage.
"But he’s going to miss you," Jo teased.
"I feel better knowing he’s here with you," Amy said in return.
After Aunt March announced that she was taking Amy with her, it put a strain on Jo and Amy’s relationship. Jo wasn’t angry, but under the circumstances, she found it hard, as anyone would, not to be resentful. Now, however, it appeared that the tension had lifted and life was back to normal.
"You deserve to go, Amy, and I hope you have the time of your life," Jo said sincerely.
"Do you mean that, Jo?" asked Amy.
"Yes, and I’m sorry for behaving immaturely," begged Jo. "Will you forgive me?"
Amy hugged her sister hard and cried, "Oh, Jo, there’s nothing to forgive. I’m just relieved that you aren’t upset at me. I’ll write as often as I can and tell you all about the places I see and the people I meet."
"I’d like that, Amy. I really would," said Jo.
Having accepted that she might never have a chance to visit Europe in her lifetime, Jo was busying her days with writing, but she could not shake a restlessness that had developed in her heart. Lying in the yard one afternoon, Jo looked up at the sky and saw a couple of birds swirling around. "I wish I could spread my wings and fly off like you," she said to them dreamily.
The dark shadow of a human face blocked her view just then, disrupting her daydream.
"If you had wings, how would anybody be able to catch you?" the face said, showing that he had clearly been listening to her private monologue.
"The whole point is never to be caught but to have the freedom to go wherever you choose," Jo replied. "And how rude of you to sneak up on an unsuspecting person."
Reaching out to the hand extended toward her, Jo sat up and grinned into the face of her best friend. "What are you doing home at this time of the week?" she asked Laurie.
He shrugged and changed the subject instead. "I hear Amy’s off to Europe with your old aunt."
"That’s right. She’s going for one year. Now back to you. Why are you home?" Jo smartly brought the conversation back to Laurie.
"I’ve been suspended," Laurie finally admitted.
"Why? Laurie, what happened?" Jo asked in an alarmed voice.
"I got in a fight with these guys and well . . . here I am," he said lightly.
"How long are you suspended for?" Jo asked.
"Maybe two weeks," Laurie replied.
Jo gazed at him with concern knowing that he was going to college to please his grandfather, but he hadn’t quite adapted to the life there. She wanted to scold him but something stopped her. Instead she said, "Well, I’m glad you’re here because after Amy leaves tomorrow, I’m going to be so miserable. You can be a good boy and get me through this."
Grinning mischievously, Laurie saluted her and said, "Yes, sir! I live to carry out your orders."
The next day bright and early, after Amy managed to fit all her suitcases, paint sets, easel, and other art supplies into Aunt March’s carriage, she said her farewells to her family. "Good-bye, everyone! I’ll miss you all very much," she cried out, giving each person a hug.
"Be careful not to catch a cold," Mother said tearfully.
"Remember to write often," said her father.
"Find yourself a handsome Italian prince," were Jo’s parting words.
"Please think of us because we’ll be thinking of you," pleaded Beth.
"Take care of yourself," cried Meg and John.
"I may make a surprise visit on you," Laurie called out.
"That would be wonderful, Laurie. I do hope you’ll come. Bye! Good-bye!" Amy shouted, as the carriage disappeared around the corner.