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“Picnics blow,” Lucy grumbled.
“Both of you could use a happy pill,” Nell said firmly.
“I feel sorry for your kid if you’re going to make it eat dirt sandwiches off the back of some shitty station wagon.”
Nell fixed her gaze on the road. “I can’t hear you. I can’t hear anything but happy words.”
Mat smiled. The pregnant lady sure was good for entertainment.
* * *
Grannie Peg’s flamingo-pink T-shirt, black leggings, and gleaming silver earrings delighted Nealy. All that on a plump, brassy-haired woman just past forty. Her restaurant had fake pine paneling, plastic flowers in a wall divider that separated the restaurant entrance from the dining area, and a long Formica counter with black vinyl stools. Exactly the sort of place she never got to see.
She was glad she’d been able to maneuver Lucy into carrying the baby. Feeling that healthy, vigorous wiggling beneath her hands as she’d changed Marigold’s diaper had been difficult enough. She’d been terrified she’d somehow bring harm to her.
Grannie Peg stepped out from behind the register and nodded at them as they entered. “Hey, there, folks. Smoking or non?”
“Smoking,” Lucy said.
“Non,” Mat said.
Lucy’s look indicated how pathetic she thought he was.
Nealy watched Mat studying the restaurant’s counter, a purposeful gleam in his eyes. “Don’t even think about it,” she said quickly. “You’re sitting with us unless you want Marigold strapped on the stool next to you.”
The baby squealed in delight. “Da da Da!”
“Will you make her stop doing that?” Mat growled.
“Jerk. Jerk. Jerk!” Lucy said to the top of the baby’s head.
Mat sighed.
Nealy laughed. Considering how unpleasant her traveling companions were, she shouldn’t be having such a good time, but being with them felt like being with a real American family. They were all so gloriously dysfunctional. Except for Marigold. She was gloriously functional.
Mat sniffed. “Didn’t you just change her?”
“I guess she enjoyed it so much, she decided to do it again.”
One look at Lucy’s face told Nealy she didn’t have a chance of convincing the teenager to handle this diaper change. Reluctantly, she carried the baby back to the motor home.
When she returned, she found Mat and Lucy in a booth, with Lucy glaring at him. She had no intention of asking what was wrong, but Lucy told her anyway.
“He won’t let me order a beer.”
“The depth of his cruelty leaves me speechless.” Nealy frowned at the high chair that had been placed at the end of the table. Who knew how many children had sat in that chair and what diseases they might have had? She looked around for a waitress to ask for disinfectant.
“What’s wrong?” Mat asked.
“The high chair doesn’t look too clean.”
“It’s clean,” he said. “Put her in.”
Nealy hesitated, then forced herself to gently lower the squirming baby into the seat. Don’t get sick, sweetheart. Please don’t get sick.
Nealy fumbled around trying to fasten the tray in place until Lucy pushed her out of the way and did it herself. “You’re so pathetic. I feel sorry for your kid. I really do.”
“Shut up.” Although she hadn’t put much heat behind her words, Nealy still enjoyed them. “Just shut up,” she repeated for good measure.
