Tori eyed the round container resting on the kitchen counter with disgust. “You want us to eat oatmeal for breakfast after a sleepover? Where’s the chocolate donuts? The leftover pizza?” Seated at the kitchen table while Joanie nursed, Allie looked at her sister’s tiny waist as she reached up into the high cabinet where the cereal bowls were stored. Hip bones protruded through the soft pink PJ bottoms Tori wore. With a rush of envy, Allie realized she hadn’t seen her own hip bones since shortly after her marriage. “How in the world do you stay so skinny the way you eat?” she asked. “It is totally unfair that you got all the skinny genes while my genes suck up every fat gram that comes within a twelve-inch radius of my mouth and store it on my hips.” Tori picked up a spoon and used it to emphasize her words. “I don’t eat very much as a rule. I know you think I do, because you only see me on Sundays when I’m pigging out on Gram’s cooking. But during the week, sometimes I forget to eat at all.”
