He looked as if he were going to argue, but at the moment she was too concerned about Lucy to listen. “I’d better go talk to her.”

“No. She’ll wrap you around her finger. I’ll do it.”

“Wait a minute! You need to know what—”

“Save it. There aren’t any excuses for that kind of behavior.” He passed Button over to her and set off for the motor home.

As Nealy watched him go, the baby twisted in her arms and started to cry. Nealy stared glumly at the table of uneaten food. So much for her wonderful picnic.

Lucy lay face down on the bed, with her fist crushing her heart. She hated him! She hated them both. She wished she’d gotten hit by a car and gone into a coma. Then they’d be sorry for the way they treated her.

She clenched her fist tighter and squeezed her eyes shut against her tears. She was being such a brat that she couldn’t even stand herself. It was no wonder they hated her. Nell had just been trying to be nice. Why did she always have to screw everything up?

The door of the motor home banged and Mat charged in. Now she was really going to get it. She didn’t want him to see her lying on the bed slobbering, so she got up real quick and sat on the edge.

She wondered if he’d hit her. Sandy’d never hit her, not even when she was drunk, but Trent had once.

Mat came stomping back to the bedroom. She sat up straighter and got ready to face him. “I’m sorry!” she yelled before he could yell at her. “That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?”

He just looked at her, and the expression on his face made her want to cry all over again. He looked really mad, but he looked disgusted, too, like she’d really disappointed him.

He looked like a dad.

She bit her lip so she didn’t start crying and thought about all those years she’d dreamed about him. She used to write his name in her notebooks and whisper it as she fell asleep at night. Mathias Jorik. Her dad.

She’d grown up knowing he wasn’t her real father. Sandy’d never lied to her about that. Her real dad had been a student at Carnegie Mellon Sandy had met in a bar one night and never seen again. Sandy didn’t even remember his name. She’d always said that, in her heart, Mat was Lucy’s dad.

She’d heard lots of stories about Mat while she was growing up. How he and Sandy had met. How cute and smart he’d been. How nice he’d treated her, even though he didn’t have any money because he was only twenty-one and he’d just graduated from college.