Free First Lady by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

read?”
    “I’m not in school. Why would I read a book?”
    Mat smiled. “Yeah, Nell. Why would she want to do that?”
    Books had been Nealy’s most faithful companions as a child, and she couldn’t imagine anyone not enjoying reading. She wondered how parents entertained children when they traveled. Although she was the First Lady of the United States—the symbolic mother of the country—she had no idea.
    “Would you like to draw?” she asked.
    “Draw?” It was as if Nealy had suggested she entertain herself by playing with a dead rat.
    “Do you have some crayons? Colored pencils?”
    She snorted and continued picking at her toenail polish.
    Mat shot Nealy an amused glance. “It’s the millennium, Nell. Crayons and colored pencils are old-fashioned. Ask her if she wants drugs and a handgun.”
    “That’s not funny.”
    “It’s funny.” Lucy looked up from her toe. “The first funny thing I’ve heard you say, Jorik.”
    “Yeah, I’m a regular Jim Carrey.”
    Lucy got up off the couch. “We have to stop. I’ve got to pee.”
    “We have a toilet. Use it.”
    “Forget it. It’s gross in there.”
    “Then clean it.”
    Lucy’s lip curled with disdain. “As if.”
    Mat looked over at Nealy. “Clean it.”
    Nealy looked back at him. “As if.”
    Lucy giggled and Nealy smiled at the sound.
    “Sit down,” he ordered Lucy. “And buckle up. There are belts on that couch. Use ’em.”
    She grabbed her Walkman and carried it to the rear of the motor home, where she flopped down on the double bed, shoved the headset back on, and banged her fists against the wall to the rhythm of the music.
    “Nice kid,” Nealy said. “I’m sure she’ll do well for herself in prison.”
    “If she wakes up the Demon, I’m going to kill her before she can get there.”
    Nealy studied him. “I’ve never traveled with kids, but I think you’re supposed to plan frequent stops to keep them from getting bored. Scenic areas, playgrounds, zoos.”
    “If you see a sign for a snake farm, tell me right away so I can drop off all three of you.”
    “You’re a very cranky man.”
    “And you’re awfully cheerful for a woman who only has twenty dollars in her wallet and just had her stolen car stolen.”
    “It wasn’t stolen, and earthly possessions are nothing but obstacles standing in the way of our spiritual enlightenment.”
    “Is that so?”
    “Lucy said her mother died. When was that?”
    “About six weeks ago. The woman never had any sense. She was driving drunk.”
    “What about the girls’ father?”
    “Fathers. Lucy’s father was a one-night stand. The Demon’s father was Sandy’s last boyfriend. He died with her.”
    “That must be why Lucy’s so hostile. She’s trying to cope with her mother’s death.”
    “I don’t think so. My bet is that Sandy died for Lucy a long time ago. I think she’s mainly scared, but doesn’t want anybody to see it.”
    “It’s nice of you to watch out for them, especially since you don’t seem too fond of children.”
    “Nothing wrong with those little girls that some good concrete blocks and a real deep lake won’t fix.”
    She smiled. People always put on their best faces for her. It was nice to be around someone so cheerfully perverse. “What do you do for a living? When you’re not driving around children who don’t belong to you, that is.”
    He took another sip from his root beer and set the can back down before he answered. “I work in a steel mill.”
    “Where?”
    “Pittsburgh.”
    She settled back into the seat, thoroughly enjoying the novelty of chatting like an ordinary person. “Is it interesting? Working in the steel industry?”
    “Oh, yeah. Real interesting.” He yawned.
    “What do you do?”
    “This and that.”
    “It’s incredible the way the industry is reviving despite competition with the Japanese. It’s strange, though, to realize Indiana is our leading steel producer now instead of Pennsylvania. And Pennsylvania isn’t