Page 12 of Get A Fix

“And he’s funny too. How wonderful.”

I scoffed, and she led me to the opposite end of the baggage claim, where the two-seater stroller was sitting in the unclaimed area behind several rows. I had Ainsley wait as I went to get it. Once I had it out, I snapped it open easily and rolled it over to her.

“That was impressive,” she told me. “My brothers, my father, my friends, they don’t know how to get it open in one movement.”

“Celeste has this one because she had twins first time out,” I explained, putting the baby in the first seat, facing the handle so his mother could see his face, and then was going to remove Gemma from my suitcase.

The little girl lifted her hand and said, so sweetly and politely, “No, thank you.”

I smiled at Ainsley. “Gemma would prefer to ride where she is.”

“Yes, but we need to let you go and⁠—”

“Or we could eat.”

As she looked at me, her stomach, which had been growling softly, nearly roared.

“What do you say?”

A very long sigh was her answer.

We found a place that did breakfast and lunch and already had a full bar.

“I never understood that,” Ainsley commented as we sat, with Gemma in a high chair and the stroller parked so we could see Taylor. “Why would the airlines want people to get drunk before they get on a plane?”

“Perhaps they think they’ll sleep the whole way.”

“In my experience, tipsy people drink more on the plane and then become belligerent. I just think this is a terrible idea.”

A woman trying to get off her barstool fell down. I would have gotten up, but she had some friends with her to help her.

“This is exactly what I mean,” she told me, gesturing at the woman as Taylor let out a little squawk.

“Oh, he’s hungry,” she said, glancing around. “Did we pass a bathroom?”

“Why?”

“I’m breastfeeding, so I need⁠—”

“Don’t you have a baby blanket or a shawl?”

“Well, yes, but⁠—”

“Then what’s the problem? All my sisters breastfed their kids, and they’ve done it everywhere. Have cover-up, will travel.”

“You won’t be embarrassed?”

“Of breastfeeding?”

“I love the look on your face, like I’m nuts, but all the men in my life, except my husband, and even some of the women, prefer that I go to the bathroom.”

I scoffed. “Do you have clothespins?”

“What?”

“My sisters all have clothespins they clip to the collar of their shirts so the baby doesn’t whip that blanket off like ta-da! presenting the boob.”

She started laughing, and I got up and got Taylor out of his car seat.