“If you knew I was waiting for you to tell me, why didn’t you mention it? Talk about it?”

“Because there’s nothing to talk about. Have I seen the news about Cliff Whitman? Yes. Have I seen the pictures of Joanna? Another yes. Do I lie in bed thinking of her at night? No. Does my heart ache? Only if I eat a huge meal really late at night, but then again that might be an ulcer.”

“You have an ulcer?”

“Not yet, but with a sister like you I’m braced for it.”

“How did you know I’ve been dying to ask you about Joanna?”

“Because I’ve known you my whole life. You were the same when you were six years old. You wanted to know what I was thinking about everything.”

“I did not.”

“You did. It’s the reason I let Greg marry you, so you’d ask him that question instead of me for the next sixty years.”

“Sixty? Why only sixty?” Mel kept it light. “We married at twenty and we have good genes on both sides of the family, so according to a very complex mathematical model that I just this moment invented, I’m expecting at least seventy years together.” She expected her brother to tease her about that but he didn’t.

His gaze softened. “You’re lucky, you and Greg.”

Mel felt a pang of guilt. Had she been tactless? Whatever he said to the contrary, she knew how much he’d loved Joanna. He’d probably imagined spending the rest of his life with her.

Perhaps she needed to push him a little harder. “I still think about Joanna. I miss her. When I first heard about it I thought she was in the car. I thought she was dead alongside him and I felt this massive sense of shock, then sadness and regret that we didn’t stay in touch. I was so angry with her for having hurt you, and angry that she’d ended the relationship with me, too. She was my best friend.”

Nate turned away and focused on the coffee machine. “Let it go, Mel.”

“Easy to say. Don’t you ever think about her?”

Nate’s hesitation confirmed her suspicion that yes, he did sometimes think about Joanna, but she knew he wouldn’t admit it and sure enough he shook his head.

“It was another life. Another time. We were both kids. I’ve moved on and so has she. She was married to another man for two decades.”

“And I have a question about that.” It was something that had been on her mind. “Why does a woman stay with a man for twenty years, put up with all that crap and then suddenly divorce him. I mean, if you’ve stayed for twenty years, why not stay another ten? What made her suddenly snap?”