No time like the present, her mind prodded her, although, deep down, she wanted to avoid this meeting like the plague. “Sure, I can meet you, or you might want to come out here. Delores made a killer batch of pecan rolls and I brought some French-roast coffee from an espresso shop in Seattle.”

“You’re on,” Katie said with a lot more enthusiasm than Bliss felt. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Great.” Bliss hung up and told herself it was time to get to know her half-sister, whether she wanted to or not. She straightened the den and told her father goodbye as he and Brynnie were off to talk to the preacher, who, Bliss hoped, was a decent premarriage counselor.

By the time Katie wheeled into the drive, Bliss had heated the gooey rolls, made a fresh pot of coffee and was halfway through the newspaper.

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.”