Katie rapped hard on the screen door, then let herself in, meeting Bliss in the hallway to the kitchen. She had curly auburn hair, pink cheeks and green eyes. “Hi.” She seemed a little nervous but managed a cute grin. Extending her hand, she took Bliss’s fingers in a crushing handshake. “I know this is hard for you. Jeez, it’s hard for me and I really don’t know what to say to you, but I think—I mean, the best thing is for us to get to know each other.”

“I suppose,” Bliss acquiesced, ambivalent. What do you say to someone who is the product of your father’s infidelity? How do you accept them or they accept you?

“The truth of the matter is,” the redhead said with refreshing honesty as she sailed down the hallway as if she’d done it a hundred times before, “I’ve been torn. From the minute I heard about you and realized that you were my sister, I wanted to meet you, but was afraid and embarrassed and, oh, it’s just so damned complicated.”

“Isn’t it?” Give the woman a chance, Bliss. She’s obviously struggling with this as much as you are.

In the kitchen Katie paused and eyed the rolls that Bliss had put on the table. “Mmm, smells great.”

“Good. Sit, sit.” Bliss waved her into a chair and poured them each a cup of coffee. She handed Katie a mug and watched as the younger woman spooned two teaspoons of sugar into her brew. “When Mom told me that John was my father I thought we should get together to shake our heads at our parents’ stupidity if nothing else.” She rolled her large eyes. “And I thought kids were hard to understand. You know, sometimes adults are ten times worse.”

“You’re probably right,” Bliss agreed as she sat across the table, her back to the window. Outside the glass a robin was busy pulling up worms from the morning-damp lawn. Bliss didn’t have to like the woman, just hear her out. Unfortunately, Katie seemed to be one of those bubbly, wear-your-heart-on-your-sleeve types that she found endearing.

“I have to admit, though,” Katie said, sipping her coffee as Bliss cut the rolls apart and placed one of the sugary confections on a small plate, “after living with three brothers it was a relief to know that I had a sister—well, really, two sisters!”

Katie, all five feet two inches of her, cut into her pastry. She was small and wiry, with quick movements and the exuberance of a brushfire at the height of summer. No moss grew under this little woman’s feet. “And what’s your name?” she asked as Oscar, slowly wagging his tail, galloped into the room, only to slide to a stop at the table.

“Oscar. I’ve had him a couple of years.”

“Well, you’re just adorable,” Katie said to the dog who wiggled at her feet. “Do you hear me? A-dor-a-ble.” Without checking with Bliss, she tossed the mutt a bite of pecan roll, which he tossed and gulped in one swift motion. She wiped her hands and asked suddenly, “Do you have any kids?”