“She’s smart.” An evil genius.

“She’s pissed.” He worked silently for a moment, smashing and chopping cloves of garlic. “When I took the plunge and told her my amazing news”—his smile was sickly—“and spread a map, just to point out how reasonably close Chicago is to here, she asked about the big ponds. And I was like, ‘Ha, ha. Those aren’t ponds. They’re lakes. See? Lake Ontario, Lake Michigan.’” He shook his head. “She ran into Dad’s room and glared at the water. Then she lost it. She just…” He stopped chopping and blinked at the cutting board. “Lost it.”

“It’s got to be hard.” Linnie left the apartment—essentially left Kate—and then Sam and his daughter left the apartment, and now, at last settled in a new home, Kate was being asked to leave again. That had to suck. Of course, Sam could arrange to keep her with Thomas. Between Sam’s dad and Wren, Kate would be well cared for. But that wasn’t the same as happy. And yet, how many students dragged their kids off to college? How many students even had kids?

She didn’t voice her thoughts. Sam looked thoroughly miserable, as if the realities of his situation had finally caught up with him.

Her aunt and Thomas were still in the workshop. She could hear them talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying. “Your dad and Wren don’t know yet?”

“Nope.” His shoulders jerked up. “Should I even bother telling them?”

Maggie chewed on the corner of her bottom lip. She didn’t have a good answer. Pushing away her empty glass, she stood. “Put me to work. What can I do?”

They prepared dinner side by side without talking much. Sam asked Maggie only to rough-chop the artichoke hearts and slice the olives. Sam’s father and Wren returned to the great room, breaking the moody silence with a few flattering remarks about the sculpture.

Sam mustered a sad semblance of a smile. Wren and Thomas didn’t seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm. By the time the water reached a boil, they’d settled on the couch with some bread and cheese and were laughing easily. Wren mentioned she’d seen someone at the exhibition for the first time in seventeen years. And Thomas asked questions about people Maggie had never heard of.

Sam poured the linguine into the boiling water and stood over the steam with a wooden spoon, tapping the stiff strands into the pot.

There was a rattling sound at the door, then a loud rap.

“What the heck…?” Thomas said. He shared a perplexed glance with Wren, strode across the room, and paused by a window to peer toward the front of the house. “Oh.”

As soon as Sam’s dad unlocked the door, a wide-eyed Linnie shot into the house with a panicked, “Kate? Where’s Kate? What happened?”