“No!” The single word exploded from Amy’s mouth like a gunshot.

“Don’t tell me no, Amy. And if you think for one minute Pete is going to listen to you, you’re nuts. I’m damn sick and tired of you running my life. Half my problems with Jill can be laid on your doorstep. I can’t live with this guilt anymore. I lie awake nights trying to figure out what I’m going to do if and when this hits. I have some savings that will tide me over if the business goes into the crapper. I’m prepared to move, to relocate and start over. God, Amy, I just want to be me again. I don’t want to keep hiding from Jeff King’s parents every time I see them because I feel so guilty. I feel like a real wuss. I don’t know how you deal with it, Amy.”

“I deal with it because the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. We aren’t saying anything until…until we have to. Every time you don’t listen to me something terrible happens, then you expect me to fix it for you. Don’t tell me I run your life either. If you were capable of running it yourself, I wouldn’t have to step in. We’re twins,” Amy said, as if that was all the explanation her brother deserved.

Andy wilted under her attack the way he always did. He yanked at the gearshift and backed up so fast, Amy was jolted forward. “I’m not finished eating. I can’t eat in a moving car. I’ll get sick.”

“Even a truck driver doesn’t eat five tacos. You need to look in the mirror and stop eating all that junk you stuff your face with.” Andy risked a glance at his sister out of the corner of his eye. His words had gone right over her head. He threw in the clincher. “You and Cady were the same size. I think you were skinnier, though. She sure turned into a sizzler.”

Amy burst into tears. “You are so hateful, Andy Hollister. I would never say anything like that to you. Never, ever!”

“Like hell you wouldn’t. You’ve been running my life and telling me what to do and when to do it for so long I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore. From here on in, butt out of my business. If I fuck it up, I’ll know who to blame. I mean it, Amy, stay the hell out of my business. Take all your trash with you. I don’t want my car smelling like greasy tacos. Look, your husband is home waiting for you,” Andy said, swerving into the Chambers’s driveway.

“I hate you sometimes, Andy. I really do. If you tell, I’ll call you a liar. Who do you think they’ll believe, me or you?” Her voice rang with such venom, Andy felt his insides start to shrivel.

“You’re sick to think like that. Sometimes I hate you, too. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”