"God, Astrid, you're just lazy. Babies get held all the time. Why does he need a whole seat to himself?"
She tilted her head, saccharine and sharp. "If you don't want to hold him, I'll hold him for you. Happy now?"
Bernice had always been like this. Twist the facts, play the victim, steamroll anyone in her way.
I wasn't going to waste my breath arguing. I kept it simple and immovable.
"The car seat stays. Period. Anyone who touches it answers to me."
Lambert unlocked the doors. His voice carried that familiar edge of reproach. "Astrid, could you try having a heart for once?"
"That's my baby sister out there. She's got a five-year-old with her. You want me to abandon them on the side of the road? What am I supposed to tell my parents?"
My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached.
"They can take a cab. I'll pay for it. That's still better than ripping out my son's car seat and cramming too many people in here!"
Bernice let out a mocking little laugh.
"Oh, I know you're generous, Astrid. But isn't that a bit of a waste?"
She tilted her head. "Morton Fleming can drive. Let him be your free chauffeur for the ride back. Problem solved, right?"