“Hey, Dad, do you want us to go get ice cream now?” I don’t want to hear this. It sounds like my advice to him was wrong and Dad’s efforts will all be for nothing.

Diesel whines his sad one-note. Even he agrees.

“Yes, the girls should go. We need to talk about this alone,” Mom says.

“Sure, go and get your ice cream now.” Dad pulls out his wallet and hands me three twenties. “That’s for the gas the other day. You don’t have to bring me any change. Just buy Morgan and Baby Luanne whatever they want, too.”

“Okay, Dad.” I pick up Diesel’s leash, and Morgan pushes the stroller. We walk slowly away, the sand clogging up the stroller wheels.

“You could take Diesel off his leash,” Morgan suggests. “There aren’t any cars on the beach.”

She’s right and Diesel is miserable enough with that stupid white satellite around his head. I reach under the plastic to unsnap the leash.

“He’s walking pretty good for a dog who got hit by a car last night,” Morgan says cheerily.

At least I still have my dog. I smile. “Yeah, he’s limber all right.”

Dog yoga, remember? Diesel bends down onto his front paws.

“No. Stop that, Diesel!” Morgan holds up a finger for him to pay attention. “No playing — you’re supposed to be resting!” She shakes that finger at him. Then we continue on.

Despite the bumpy ride, or maybe because of it, Luanne’s head bobs down and she falls asleep. Another thing I should be happy about.

For a few minutes the slap of our flip-flops against the soles of our feet is the only sound we make — till we’re far enough away from the picnic table.

Then Morgan starts.

“You don’t think we should have stayed to help your dad’s case? It didn’t look like he was winning your mom over.”

“What do you know? Egg salad is her favourite.” I feel like kicking Morgan because she’s right. Dad’s losing.

“That was a great sandwich. Ya gotta give him that.” Slap, slap!

“He’s going to babysit Luanne while driving a bus. What more does Mom want?” Slap, slap!

“She’s a demanding woman with no sense of humour.” Slap, slap!

“What did you say?” My feet stop moving.

“I just meant that what he was doing should have worked.” She stops beside me.

“What do you know? My dad is unreliable. He said he’d teach me to swim this summer but he never did. He was short on his support money, so we have to move. His car stalls at every corner even though he works part-time at a garage.”

“You really can’t count on him.”

“I can’t count on anyone!” I realize then that I really don’t want Morgan to agree with anything I’m saying. “Just shut up!” I run ahead.

Pack fight! Diesel barks.

“She’s not part of the pack!” I yell.

“What are you talking about?” Morgan ploughs the stroller through the sand to catch up. Luanne’s head bobs up.