“I’m telling you!” Dorothy brags as if she had something to do with it. “What a trouper that boy is! He seems fine.”

“He’s had plenty of practice putting on the brave front, Dorothy. That doesn’t mean he’s fine.”

“You know? One of the things I’ve learned after writing how many children’s books?” She smiles at her rhetorical question. “Plenty, right? The point is, I know kids. And I’m always amazed at how we’re bothered by a lot of things that don’t bother them in the least.”

“Just because he’s not showing something doesn’t mean he’s not bothered. It will be good for Benton to talk to him when he and Lucy get home.”

“Look.” Dorothy sips her coffee. “That evil woman came up to me, and of course I did a double take because at first I thought she was Lucy.”

“Stop.”

“I was waiting at the gate, and she started talking to me, and what a coincidence our seats were next to each other—”

“Stop right there.” I hold up a hand, and shake my head.

“But I need to explain what happened. You need to let me—”

“So far you’ve not explained it at all,” I interrupt, “and we need to leave it that way, Dorothy.”

“But I just said—”

“You’ve explained nothing. Period. We can’t discuss what went on with you and Carrie at the airport, on the plane, or when she showed up here at the house after you invited her here and then let her in. Okay?”

“But I—”

“No.”

“It’s just that you must think I’m really stupid but it’s not like anyone ever told me about her—”

“I’m a witness in the case the same way you are. Now not another word. Thanks for the coffee. It tastes sweet. Did you put sugar in it?”

“Agave nectar, just the way you like it.”

“I don’t take sweetener.”

“Since when?”

“Since ever, Dorothy.” And I have to laugh because the more things supposedly change the more they don’t. “You were always the caretaker,” I tease.

“I’ve never been one of those,” she says sullenly, and she doesn’t seem to be such a good one for herself either.

My sister’s hair is too long and too blond, and whoever she’s paying a fortune to for aesthetic work ought to be locked up. Her unnaturally round cheeks crowd her eyes when she smiles, her lower jaw is too heavy, and she couldn’t frown if she tried, making it slightly more challenging to read her discontent and underlying chronic boredom.

“You have to understand this is the biggest thing I’ve ever done.” Dorothy’s over-enhanced breasts are on high alert, and it would suit me if her T-shirt were about ten inches longer.