“The votes are in!” Sheila said. “It looks like we’re having a party!” She had collected all the little cards in a shoebox, and we were sitting at the table at Dad’s, eating Pizzeria Pete’s and checking each name on the invitation list. There was no card from Mission. Sometimes I still wanted it to show up. Sometimes I didn’t.

Mom was teaching a night class, so Sheila had picked me up from Dr. Thomas’s office after our bat shots that afternoon (four down, one to go). Jesse was at the restaurant, as usual, and Dad was still in Minnesota, but it was nice to see my room at Dad’s, and Rocco.

I had forgotten to do my worrying before dinner, which is probably why things kept popping up in my brain: Angelica. Sonia. Mission. I kept telling them, “I’ll see you later,” the way Miriam taught me, but worries don’t always listen. I took a little RSVP envelope and rubbed one sharp corner on all the itchy places between my fingers. I did it under the table, so Sheila couldn’t see.

She picked up her second slice. “Star Trek? We’re almost done with season five, I think.”

“You never told me the end of the story,” I said. “About Mission.”

I wasn’t sure she would. But she said, “Well, there isn’t a whole lot more to tell. Jesse married Ellie. I had to fix his suit, though, before the wedding. He’d lost weight and it didn’t fit him anymore. That’s what happens when people take away their love, Bea. It makes you smaller. Sometimes it makes you disappear.”

“Is that why you can’t forgive Mission?” I whispered. “Because he took away his love?”

She made her eyes hold my eyes. “Yes. That’s why. It was another ten years before Jesse was strong enough to tell Ellie and the rest of the world that he’s gay. Our parents had died by then. And as soon as Jesse opened his mouth, Mission turned away from him again. Only, this time, Jesse was prepared. He doesn’t need Mission anymore.”

“But that was a long time ago, right? Maybe if someone invited Mission to the wedding, he would come.”

She glanced toward the front door, as if Mission might be on the other side, or might not. “Maybe.”

“Do you love Mission anymore?”

“There’s something between me and Mission that can’t be broken, Bea. We were real close, all of us, growing up. We had the usual kind of adventures, I guess, but it always felt special to me.”

“He’s still your brother,” I said.

“He’s my twin.”

“Twin!”

She nodded. “For a long time, Mission felt like the other half of me. But he made me choose, just like he made Jesse choose. I can’t forgive him for that.”

And then Sheila started crying.