See Jane Die by Erica Spindler Page A

inevitably, he had resolved the crisis and gotten them back on speaking terms.
    Stacy hadn’t been surprised when Dave had gone into counseling; as far as she was concerned, he had been born to help people resolve their problems.
    She reached him as he was wrapping up his conversation. “Call me if her condition deteriorates,” he said, then snapped his flip phone shut.
    He stood and hugged her. “Sorry about that. It’s good to see you, Stacy.”
    She hugged him back. “You, too.”
    He motioned a corner booth. “Hungry?”
    â€œStarving.”
    â€œGood. Me, too.”
    They sat, ordered soft drinks, barbecue sandwiches and thick-sliced onion rings.
    â€œHow are you?” he asked.
    A soft, bitter-sounding laugh slipped past her lips. “Heartbroken and jealous. Your first tip should have been the quiver in my voice. Your second the onion rings.”
    â€œComfort food,” he murmured. “You know, there’s actually a psychological basis to that. I say, whatever it takes. Within reason, of course.”
    â€œI hate feeling this way. I know it’s wrong. I should be happy for my sister.”
    â€œIt’s not wrong. It’s destructive.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “When did she tell you?”
    â€œThis morning. She’s eight weeks along—” She swallowed the words as she realized that Dave already knew. “She told you first, didn’t she? Figures.”
    He tightened his fingers. “It doesn’t mean anything, Stacy.”
    â€œThat’s such a crock, Dave. Of course it does.”
    â€œShe was worried you’d be upset.”
    â€œLucky and perceptive.” Stacy eased her hand from his, dropped it to her lap. “She truly does have it all.”
    â€œShe misses you.”
    â€œShe told me the same thing.”
    â€œYou didn’t believe her.”
    â€œIt’s not that. It’s—” She held on to the thought as the waitress delivered their Cokes. She took a sip of the cold drink, using the moments to gather her thoughts.
    â€œWhy does she miss me?” she asked finally. “Seems to me her life is pretty full.”
    â€œShe misses you because you’re her sister. No one can replace what you share.”
    Stacy looked away, hurting.
    â€œWhat you’re feeling is envy, a normal human emotion. In this case an understandable emotion, one with easily definable roots.” He ticked off Jane’s good fortune on his fingers. “A multimillion-dollar inheritance. Marriage to a handsome doctor—a man you dated first. A career she not only adores, but one that is beginning to garner national acclaim. And now a baby on the way.”
    Stacy laughed, the sound tight. “She’s easy to hate, isn’t she?”
    â€œShe’s easy to love as well.”
    â€œNot from where I’m sitting.”
    He leaned toward her. “You do love her, Stacy. And therein lies your conflict.”
    â€œSo fix me, Doc. Make it all better.”
    â€œI can only do so much. We’re friends. Friends with a lot of history. I have the names of several good people—”
    â€œNo, thanks. I’m not interested in some stranger picking my brain apart.”
    â€œYou’d rather a friend apply a Band-Aid?”
    â€œSomething like that.”
    â€œA Band-Aid’s not going to do the trick, doll. This isn’t going to go away. You have to take a good look at your life. Change what’s not working. Rejoice in what is.”
    She didn’t comment. The waitress brought their food. They dug in, though Stacy derived little pleasure from it.
    â€œJane’s nightmare’s back,” he said after washing a bite of his sandwich down. “Did you know?”
    She shook her head, food sticking in her throat. Her thoughts spiraled back to that day at the lake, the sun warm on her face, first the sound of a powerboat drawing