peeking in the ladies’ room. “All clear. Want me to stand guard while you change her?”
I shook my head. “I’ll be super quick, and you’re the only person I’ve seen in the last fifteen minutes in this hallway. I’m sure it’s fine.”
She wished me luck and continued on her way as the restroom door closed softly. I got to work at the changing table, swinging Mari out of the carrier like a pro and pulling the needed supplies from the diaper backpack Brooks and Mal had given us at the engagement party. They’d filled it with beer bottles where the baby bottles were supposed to go, and lube and condoms had overflowed the diaper and wipes section. Parrish had opened it in front of his aunt Marnie, and his face had turned pink with embarrassment.
It was one of my favorite baby items now because it reminded me of his adorable blush.
“Don’t hurl yourself off this time,” I warned Marigold. “I’m onto your little tricks.”
She yanked the chicken passie out of her mouth, made deliberate eye contact with me, and dropped it over the edge of the changing table. Suddenly, I flashed forward to a teenaged Marigold being rebellious and turning my hair gray prematurely. Lord help us all.
“Joke’s on you, little miss. I have five more where that came from,” I muttered, performing the diaper change like a NASCAR pit crew. Within seconds, she was freshly diapered, dressed, and back in the front carrier as I washed my hands in front of her. She tried reaching the flowing water, but I knew the exact angle to hold my body in order to keep her from creating our very own splash park.
“What the f-freak?” a woman’s voice said as the door opened.
It was a familiar voice. Ava walked into the ladies’ room with wide eyes. “Diesel?” She stepped back to check the sign on the door before crinkling her forehead at me. “I guess I never asked your pronouns, and I should have.”
God love that woman. “He and him. There’s just no changer in the men’s. Sorry.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Stupid fucking small-town bullshit,” she said with more vitriol than I would have expected. “Don’t worry. We’ll change that. The parent group already got one put in at the Tavern and in the bathroom at the rec center.”
“It’s okay, really,” I said. “All done. It was more a way to keep myself distracted than anything. What are you doing here?”
I assumed she had business at the courthouse. Maybe something to do with the Beautification Corps or something.
“We’re here for you, silly man.”
I blinked at her. “What do you mean?”
“Your custody hearing. You didn’t think we were going to let you come alone, did you?” She grinned at me. “Now, scoot. I need to pee.”
Her words repeated themselves in my head as I walked out in a daze to find the previously empty hallway overflowing with familiar faces. Brooks, Mal, Paul, Ginger, Wade, Maureen, Latonya, and even Brooks’s parents were there. Mrs. Johnson seemed to be handing out muffins or something from a cloth-lined basket. My aunt Dot sat on a bench crocheting calmly and gave me a happy wave when I looked at her, while Aunt Birdie looked ready to storm the courtroom herself if things didn’t go my way. Even Crow and several of the Devoted Dogs MC were there, chatting happily with Wade and flirting with Ginger.
“What’s going on?” I asked to the group in general.
Mal grinned wide. “It’s Daughter Day. We couldn’t let you celebrate on your own.”
The lump in my throat threatened to suffocate me. “I’m not going to get custody,” I croaked out. “She’s not going to be mine.”
Wade broke off from the little circle of people he was talking to and came over to squeeze my shoulder. “That’s not true. You’re a good father to her, and we’re all here to tell that to the judge.”
I gave some kind of combo head nod and grunt that was supposed to express gratitude. It must not have worked. Wade looked concerned.
“Where’s Parrish?” he asked.
I shook my head but couldn’t get the words out. Brooks and Mal noticed the interaction and stepped closer. “He’s not here?” Brooks asked. “Where is he?”
I shrugged and glanced over to the courtroom door. Even my attorneys weren’t here yet. I started to feel light-headed. “Can you call Stewie?” I said in a rough voice, handing Mal my phone. “The number’s in there.”
Marigold must have sensed my distress because she started trying to turn