Kat wasn't sure she'd heard correctly. Her leaving just about killed /him/? She had trouble seeing that, since Riley had chosen such a sensitive way to break up with her. /Go away, Kat. It's over/. She never got to share the news about the baby.

Kat prepared to answer Madeline. She raised her chin, straightened her back, and reminded herself to tuck away the old hurt. She was an expert at it. Seriously, Madeline. I hardly think it's my fault that Riley Bohland never bothered to finish high school.

Madeline screwed up her face in bewilderment, then exploded with laughter, her eyes sparkling. When she regained her composure, she said, Of course he finished, silly. He just had to repeat that one year.

Well. I'm glad for him. She really was. At least maybe when Riley was too old and stiff for life on the construction crew, he could go to community college, like Kat had, and put his perfectly good brain to use. Riley was always able to coast by on charm alone, but he'd also been blessed with a relentless mind. Even when he was a kid, that mind would spin and twist until it grabbed on to something and made sense of it. Kat had always admired that in him, and she'd been pleased to see the same keen intellect at work in her son.

Well, Riley's son, too.

Madeline stared at Kat, deep in concentration. She jangled the master key ring in her hand. So you were out at the construction site today? Is that how you ruined your beautiful clothes?

Yes, unfortunately.

So you've already tracked him down?

Kat noticed the strangest combination of worry and glee on Madeline's face, and she racked her brain for the specifics of how the tenth-grade food chain had once been structured. Kat herself was just a nerdy tomboy, preferring books and old movies over mascara and mousse. But Madeline Bowman had been a pom-pom princess and the queen of the Sadie Hawkins dance, the kind of girl Kat steered clear of whenever possible.