The scene felt damn-near overpowering to Riley, which made him to smile to himselfhe was such a country boy. The noise level was jarring. Two kinds of live music and at least three languages battled it out for the open airspace, and the shrill beeps of car horns were nearly drowned out by the lower, deeper complaints of sightseeing boats. His nose detected the competing scents of dozens of restaurants and taverns, but there was only one spot that would catch his fancy tonighta seafood place called City Lights, where Aidan had suggested they meet.

Riley looked down at his watch and laughed at himself. Matt had been righthe'd left from the nearby hotel with so much time to spare that he'd arrived a full half hour early, even walking at a leisurely pace.

So be it. Riley had been dreaming of this day for an entire year. He would finally get an opportunity to show his kid that he cared. This was no time to be even a minute late.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the sign for the restaurant, then almost immediately spotted an end of a bench overlooking the water.

Riley sat down, acknowledging with a nod the elderly African-American gentleman already headquartered there.

Fine evening, the man said.

Yes, it is.

Visiting the city?

Yes, sir. I live in West Virginia.

The old man nodded with approval. Now that's a beautiful state. Some of the prettiest scenery anywhere.

Yes, sir.

What brings you here? Business?

As the words formed on Riley's tongue, he felt his face expand in a silly grin. He probably looked like a goof. Actually, he said to the man, pausing to savor what would come next, I'm in town to meet my son for a bite to eat. He's a student at Johns Hopkinsa biology major.

The old man lifted his chin. One of the world's best schools. You must be real proud of him.

Riley looked out over the water, thinking to himself that he was proud of Aidan for being smart and disciplined enough to make it into Hopkins, surely. But Riley was most proud that his son had the courage to be here tonight, to meet him.

I /am/ proud.

You know, I'm eighty-two years old, and I have to say that a job is just a job, but being a father is the best thing a man can do with his life.

With that, he broke out into a goofy grin himself, revealing a shockingly white set of dentures. He slowly rose to his feet. You enjoy that meal.

Riley stood to shake the man's hand and wished him well. As Riley watched his bent form make slow progress across the crowded plaza, something caught his attention. It had to be the shape of the chin, the set of the dark eyes. There could be no mistake.

It was Aidan.

He stood on the steps in front of the restaurant, leaning against the railing, one hand in his jeans pocket. Aidan was tall and lanky and looked nervous as hell as his eyes bored right into Riley's. Riley began walking, his mind blank and his pulse wild. His steps quickened, and he broke into a jog.

It took just a moment to reach Aidan, because he had raced down the steps and started running, too. They stopped in the middle of the crowd, their eyes the same level, their shoulders the same breadth. Riley wanted to shout and cry and throw his arms around his kid, but the last thing he wanted to do was scare Aidan.

So Riley extended his hand. Aidan, he said.

Aidan swung his hand around and gripped Riley's, giving it a series of emphatic pumps. You're early, Aidan said, still pumping.

Riley laughed. I think I'm about twenty years late.

Aidan smiled, but his bravado didn't last. He threw himself into Riley's arms and crushed him with a hug. God, I'm glad you finally made it, Aidan said.

Kat poked her head into the upstairs bathroom, watching as one of the workmen pulled up the faded pink tiles from the floor. She clearly recalled all the hours she'd spent staring at those tiles while on her knees, the morning sickness stretching into the afternoons and then the evenings.

Phyllis would stand on the other side of the door, asking after her, offering hot tea or a cold washcloth. As the days went by, Kat began to let her guard down, and she told herself that maybe there really were people in the world who were just decent and caring, and that maybe this Phyllis woman and her brother, Cliff, were two of them.

In those first months, Phyllis cooked for Kat, took her shopping for clothes that would cover her growing lump, and made sure she got plenty of rest. Cliff stopped by when he came through town, and he'd always bring Kat a little somethinga music box, some teen magazines, and a big box of chocolates for Valentine's Day. He called her Sunshine, because her hair and eyes were gold like the sun, he said. Kat always felt a little spoiled by Cliff, and wondered if that was the way it was supposed to have been with her real dad. She adored Cliff for that.

Phyllis got Kat into the health clinic. That initial trip to the doctor was the first time Kat had used the name Katharine Turner. Phyllis suggested it. Just for now, until we get everything settled, she said.

As the months went by and Kat's belly got bigger, Phyllis began to gently prod her, Wouldn't it be nice to let your mama know you're OK?

No, was always her answer.

By her second trimester, Kat ate like a dockworker. She remembered having one particularly difficult conversation with Phyllis over a huge plate of Chef Boyardee spaghetti with meatballs.

Are you sure you don't want to contact her?

Yes. Can I have some more milk?

Help yourself, hon.

Kat put down her fork and stared at Phyllis. Sometimes, depending on the light, there was something about her face that looked familiar and safe.

Maybe it was the shape of her lips or the daintiness of her chin. Kat could never pinpoint it. But she thought that if Phyllis laid off the Toni home perms, put some meat on her bones, and didn't smoke so much, she'd probably be a pretty woman.

I still don't get it. How come you're so nice to me? I'm nobody to youjust a girl in trouble.

Phyllis stubbed out her Newport Light and pursed her lips in thought.

It's like this, hon, she said. Human beings have tiny little brains, smaller than parakeet brains if you ask me, and we don't always see that we're in this mess together.

Kat chewed another mouthful, frowning.

See, people are connected like puzzle pieces, but because we can't tell what the overall picture's supposed to look like, we're walking around clueless about how we fit together, you know?

Kat took a big gulp of milk and wiped her face with a napkin. I have no idea what you're talkin' about.

Phyllis smiled kindly. All I'm saying is that I know what you're going through, hon. It happens more than you think. I got pregnant myself when I was seventeen. I wasn't married to the boy, same as you.

Kat's eyes went huge. No way!

Now, my story is set way back in 1964, mind you, so we ended up having to get married. Then I lost the babymiscarriage. Phyllis immediately picked up on the fear in Kat's face and reassured her. I was just a few months along and that's when most miscarriages happen. The doctor said you're doing great, remember? You're going into your sixth month and everything is fine.

Kat nodded, knowing Phyllis was right. So what happened to your husband?

You done with this? Phyllis picked up the milk carton without getting an answer and took it to the fridge. Kat watched her, knowing that she was avoiding the question. You want a peach, Kat?

I hate peaches.

Phyllis stood at the kitchen counter with her back to Kat. How about a banana?

No, thanks.

Phyllis returned to the table and placed a brown-freckled banana in front of her, and Kat didn't know if that meant she was supposed to eat it because it was good for the baby or because Phyllis hadn't paid any attention to her answer.