“Diesel!” I rush toward him so he won’t bound over and hurt himself. I try to hug him, but his stiff plastic shield scratches my face.

He whines and swings his head this way and that. I hate this thing around neck. I must get it off.

“Poor, poor Diesel!” I pat his forehead. “Does he really have to keep the cone on?”

Dr. Fielding nods. “Sorry, but he just can’t seem to leave that bandage alone,” she says.

“How long does he have to wear the cone?” I ask as he scrapes it across my leg.

“This week at least. If you can keep him quiet, too, that would be best. Then you can bring him back in and we’ll see.”

Dad takes away some paperwork, but the bill is stamped PAID IN FULL. When we get back home, I take Diesel to my room and call Morgan. Dad talks to Mom in the kitchen. As Morgan and I chat on the phone, I cross my fingers that Dad’s invitation will work.

“Diesel’s fine,” I tell her.

My back leg has a very itchy thing on it and I can’t scratch.

You’re so lucky! Don’t complain. “It’s like a miracle. But he needs to rest. I still have to watch Luanne today. Do you wanna come over?”

“You’re inviting me to your house? Wow, is it my birthday or something?”

“What are you talking about? You come here all the time.”

“Yeah, but you never invite me. Sure, I’ll come. Be there in five.”

When I hang up the phone, Dad is ready to leave. By the bounce in his step, I figure things went well with Mom.

“So did she like the picnic idea?”

“Yes. I told her I could come over early to help her pack as long as we could go for a picnic on the beach.”

“Nice touch about the packing.”

“She told me it was only right that I did my fair share.” He smiles lopsidedly. “I guess she has a point.”

“Dad, I have to tell you. I know you don’t like my bikini but I can’t wear Little Mermaid anymore.”

He nods. “I am a little sad about that.”

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m so little, none of the guys look at me.”

“I think you’re wrong about that, Naomi.” He stoops to hold my chin in his hand. “You know both your mother and I will always love you, no matter what.” He kisses my cheek. “Nothing that happens at any picnic will change that.”

Of course I get that. But I want my family back together again. I check my watch — still flashing THU July 01 4:30 — and I know the Thursday picnic can have the power to change everything.

Later that afternoon, Morgan brings Diesel some get-well presents: a bag of beef jerky and a previously enjoyed DVD, Lassie. Before we do anything else, Mom insists I pack all my closet for the big move, but Morgan helps me, so it goes fast. Together we fill four boxes and sort out a bag of clothes to donate to Goodwill.