“Happy ending. Good for you.”

“I’m guessing my sister wasn’t kind to you in high school.”

She played with her coffee spoon. “I was the gawky girl she always made fun of. And she did it so tactfully. She’d suggest I take up the hems on my skirts, or give me the address of a salon where I could get a better perm, or tell me new glasses would look so much nicer. She’d always do it in front of other girls, like she had my welfare in mind. Of course, I don’t know what she said when I wasn’t around. I shudder to think.”

“That sounds so cruel.”

She grimaced. “Those years were tough. My father had a stroke when I was ten, and my mother had to care for him until I came home in the afternoons. Then I took care of him while she went to work cleaning office buildings. I shopped at thrift stores, used the same frames for my glasses every time I got a new prescription, and the perm? My mother saved for a year to take me to the beauty school for my birthday. I hope the girl who did it went on to a different career.”

“I bet your dad’s condition spurred you to become a physical therapist.”

“It did.”

“So that’s Wendy.” I paused. “How about Greta? Did you know her well? Because my mother tells me that she and my sister were best friends until Greta drowned.”

“They weren’t friends as long as that.”

“No?”

“They were close for years, true. Greta more or less basked in the glow of Wendy’s friendship. But in middle school she started coming into her own. She realized people liked her for herself, not for her connection to Wendy. And she also saw the way Wendy manipulated things so Greta was always on the sidelines.”

“Are you guessing, or did she maybe tell you this?”

“Both. But one of the reasons Wendy picked on me was because Greta and I became friends that last year before she died. She started sitting with me at lunch instead of at Wendy’s table where the popular kids sat. She invited me to her house.” She set the spoon away from her and folded her hands. Her coffee was untouched. “I still get Christmas cards from her mom.”

I had my opening now. “I have a photo of Wendy and Greta. I think it may be the last one Wendy had of them together before Greta died.” I took it from my pocket and held it out for her.

She held it up to see it better. “That’s how she looked in the last photos I have of her, too. You’re probably right. She died on the sixth of June, 1986. I put flowers on her grave every year.”

I was touched. “From the photo it looks like she and Wendy were still friends.”

“Greta tried not to make enemies. But by then, your sister wasn’t happy with her. Not by a long shot. And Jeff was the main reason, I guess.”