Part 20 (1/2)

”You're getting soft in your pregnancy,” I said.

”You should shut up and be nice to me and not make fun of me, husband who is not carrying some alien life form that will not leave the mother s.h.i.+p.”

”Duly noted.”

”Now, I'm going to go upstairs and put on my hideous green T-s.h.i.+rt and pretend to be happy about marching in this parade in four-hundred-degree temperatures,” she said, pus.h.i.+ng herself up from the table.

”You're walking in the parade?” I asked. ”I thought we agreed you'd ride on the float?”

”That was when I thought your offspring would arrive in a reasonable amount of time,” she said. ”Walking has been known to spur labor. I would walk to Oklahoma at this point, if I thought it would force this kid out of my stomach.”

”You'll still be the most beautiful woman in the parade,” I said. ”Just like every other year.”

”Oh my G.o.d, shut up,” she yelled at me, going up the stairs. ”If the kid's still in me, you'll get s.e.x.”

39.

The 4-H float did not look like an oversize garden to me.

It looked like . . . something else.

The floats were all parked at the south end of Main Street, each group having been a.s.signed a numbered slot in which to park their float and make last-minute adjustments and finishes. People were scurrying around, yelling at one another, yelling for tape and staples and extra hands.

We'd been a.s.signed slot 27, so we were about middle of the pack. As we walked up to the float, Julianne and I in our green s.h.i.+rts, Carly in her tiny corncob outfit, I slowed when we got closer.

”What the h.e.l.l is that?” I whispered to Julianne.

”I have . . . no idea.”

I was glad I wasn't the only one confused.

Behind the white pickup truck was a flatbed trailer. On the flatbed trailer were six long . . . things. Three green, three orange. I knew that they were probably supposed to be cuc.u.mbers and carrots, but they looked distinctly like . . .

”Don't even say it,” Julianne whispered. ”I can see it in your eyes. Do not say it.”

”But they look like big, giant . . .”

”Vegetables,” Julianne said. ”They look like vegetables. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

”I can't be the only one that sees this,” I said. ”Who the h.e.l.l was in charge of the float?”

Julianne grinned at me. ”Our pal. Susan.”

”And she couldn't see that it looks like they have six big . . .”

”Vegetables,” Julianne said, emphasizing the word. ”They are vegetables.”

”Telling you right now,” I said, pointing at the vegetables. ”The judges are going to dock our float for being inappropriate.”

”Well, take it up with the queen bee,” Julianne said. ”Because here she comes.”

I looked to my right and Susan Blamunski was headed our way, a big fake smile plastered on her face.

”Doesn't it look fabulous?” she gushed, then eyed Julianne. ”I know this is your first look at it, since you haven't been to any of our float decorating sessions.”

”We were at the first two,” Julianne said. ”But I don't think you were.”

Susan's smile flickered. ”I don't recall that.”

”Of course you don't,” Julianne said. ”I'm gonna go help Carly get situated.”

”She's a bit touchy,” Susan said, once Julianne was out of earshot. ”Probably the pregnancy. And the extra weight.”

”Saw you at Idol last night,” I said, changing the subject.

”Oh, thanks!” she said, mistakenly a.s.suming I was complimenting her performance. ”I rehea.r.s.ed for a couple of weeks.”

”I take it you and Matilda aren't friends?”

She raised a thin eyebrow at me. ”Why would you think that?”

”Just seemed like there was something between the two of you.”

She fumbled with a square of tissue paper and started folding it accordion-style. ”Oh, I think she's just going through a tough time right now. I feel badly for her. But I like Matilda just fine.” The fake smile reappeared. ”I need to go pomp that one cuc.u.mber.”

”Pomp?”

She held up the tissue paper. ”You stick this in the chicken wire.” She smiled. ”Pomping.”

”Ah. Got it.”

She hustled off to pomp the . . . cuc.u.mber.

I stood around, looking for something to do, but everything seemed to be covered, so I wandered down the sidewalk to the group in front of us.

And ran into Dorothy.

She seemed startled at first, then just nodded as if she'd expected to run into me. ”Oh. Hi.”

”Hey.”

She peered around me. ”Interesting float.”

”I had nothing to do with it.” I looked past her. A group of about twenty people surrounded a simple pickup truck with a ma.s.sive paper-mache structure, which looked like the earth, in the back of it. They were all wearing bright orange s.h.i.+rts with ”C.A.K.E.” emblazoned across the front and a picture of Earth on the back. ”I like the earth,” I said.