He shut the door and strode around the truck to the sidewalk. Linnie had gotten to her feet. She murmured a few words in response to something Sam said, but she was still mostly focused on Maggie. She beckoned with a wave. Alarmed, Maggie pretended she hadn’t noticed and slid lower in the seat.

A moment passed, and then her door was opening.

“Hey, hi, come on out.”

“Oh! That—that’s okay. I’m fine in—”

“Seriously. Join us.” Linnie crossed her arms—blond-haired, brown-eyed implacability. “I’ve wanted to meet you.”

With a sinking sensation, Maggie unfastened the seat belt and slid out of the truck. Linnie backed up toward the house. Maggie trudged onto the grassy strip by the curb.

Without warning, Linnie grabbed her hand, pulled her along to the sidewalk, and after Maggie stumbled forward, seized her other hand, too. Her smile widened to a grin. “You’re gawking.”

She closed her mouth.

“Margaret Arioli. I have heard all about you.”

That didn’t bode well, and the teasing quality in the young woman’s tone was provoking. Maggie straightened. “And I’ve heard all about you.”

Linnie breathed a laugh and released her. “I bet you have.” To Sam: “Kate’s off today. You didn’t bring her?”

“To clear out the apartment? No.”

“That’s too bad. I was thinking Kyle and I would take her out to eat.”

“You could always swing by Dad’s place and just kidnap her.”

Her laugh was sharp this time. “Can a mom picking up her kid from school be a kidnapper?”

“Kind of, when you don’t tell anyone beforehand that’s what you’re going to do, when you involve that”—he indicated the man in the Saab with a flick of a hand—“person and take her away without warning, without thinking about things like homework and a healthy supper and the next day of school and—”

“What you’re saying is, I’m a shitty mother. You don’t need to tell me that.”

He immediately looked chagrined. “I know you love Kate.”

“I’m awful for her.” Her smile had turned brittle. “That’s why I’m keeping my distance as much as I can bear.” Her voice cracked on the last word. She tossed her head and continued tersely, “I am who I am. You used to like me this way.” To Maggie, she explained, “I was the genuine dragon, but he didn’t mind clinging to my tail and going along for the ride. We practiced being angry together in high school. Then he turned nice.” She glanced at Sam and shrugged. “You should know by now scolds won’t change me.”

“You don’t want to change.” Glumly, almost sheepishly, he said to the sidewalk, “Dad was telling me about a new program through the college, a theater therapy—”