“She’s fine.” He cleared his throat, straightened, and tried for an assertive tone: “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” He glanced at Maggie and said wearily, “She’s stuck in the old neighborhood—went there to hang out at this total loser’s place. I guess things got crazy fast. Neighbor came over, complained about the noise, threatened to call the cops. Linnie tries to avoid the police”—his glower briefly made room for a bitter smile—“for good reason. So she left, figured she’d just stroll down the street, over to the apartment we used to rent, and pass out there.” With sudden fierceness, he flung his head back against the couch and glared at the ceiling. “Unbelievable.” He rubbed his eyes. “Anyway, the landlord changed the locks, and now she’s stranded. She does this to me. This … shit”—he backhanded the air—“all the time. It’s like a test. ‘If I hang off this branch, if I cling to the cliff’s edge, will someone save me? Am I worth saving?’” He groaned. “I don’t know if it’s a conscious thing, but that’s her routine. It sucks. And I am so sick of it.”

Maggie nodded. She wasn’t sure what to say or even if she should say anything. His little kid, perfectly still and wide-eyed, was staring straight at him.

He glanced at her, too, and regret crossed his face. He slumped on the couch, head in his hands again.

“I’m scared.” Kate began to cry. “I want Mom. I want her right now.”

He drew her close and wrapped her in his arms, while murmuring soothing shushes and “She’s fine … don’t worry … nothing to worry about.”

Maggie sighed. Doomed. “Go ahead and get her, if you want. I’ll watch Kate.”

Sam glanced up hopefully.

But Kate-the-sad-stray disappeared. “No way!” she shouted.

Maggie flinched. It was embarrassing how much this kid loathed her.

Kate flew off the couch. “I want to go with you! I’m not staying with her! I hate her! She is not my mom!” She stomped around the den, fists flailing, tears flying.

Sam stood. “That’s enough!”

Kate stormed into her room, slammed the door, then opened it again to deliver some encore door-slamming.

He shot after her and grabbed the knob. “Cut it out.”

“I won’t stay with her. She is not my mother. You can’t make her be my mother!”

Maggie shuffled toward the staircase.

At last, the door was shut, and it stayed shut, but sobbing persisted on the other side. Sam gave Maggie a mortified glance. “Aren’t we one big happy family?” He ran a hand down his face. “I’m sorry.”

Maggie shook her head. “I’ll go.”

“I don’t blame you. I’d go, too. But it’s getting dark. Sure you don’t want to wait until Dad’s back? Then I can drop—”