“I don’t know, maybe it seemed that way to her,” Clair said. “But it shouldn’t have. Not really. I had taken kind of a hard line with her, but—”
“You don’t have to explain. I know how problems can develop in families. There’s one in mine.”
“But that’s just it, there wasn’t a real problem. As far as I knew, anyway. There was just…I don’t know, a bump in the road that she didn’t let me have a clear understanding of.”
“A communication problem,” Jace surmised.
“I don’t even think you could call it that. Until the last time I saw her, she and I were as close as two sisters could be. We shared everything. There was no competition between us. I considered her my best friend and I thought she considered me hers. Of course, the same could hardly be said about Kristin and Dad….”
The timer rang again, signaling that the main pizza was finished. While Jace repeated the process he’d followed for Willy’s pie—raising the crust with a knife to make sure it was browned on bottom and taking it out of the oven to serve—Clair considered just how far she should go in detailing her family’s shortcomings.
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