"Some of us have to work." He snorted. "You keep dumping Henry on me, and I can't get anything done."
"You're going to have to keep watching him," I said. "The marketing rollout needs to take priority in the next few weeks."
"Or you could find another daycare or a nanny," Garrett retorted. "There are any number of adequate solutions."
"You know that's not an option," I said, my gaze cold. I didn't want to ruin the day with the Payslee situation. Garrett scowled and went into the house.
"The train is coming soon," Otis said, bouncing up and down. "We have to go, or we'll miss it!"
"I probably should have been nicer," I said. "Then he could have driven." I sighed. "You can take Hunter's SUV. I don't think he's going to need it. It holds nine. Maybe if I go stroke Garrett's ego, he'll drive a batch."
Josie looked giddy. "We don't need to caravan. Remy and I have it under control."
I heard the rumble of an engine as we trooped around to the front of the house. Remy pulled into the roundabout with a school bus. It wasn't a nice new model—it was old and painted a familiar army green.
"I thought he was going to sell it," I grumbled.
"Why would you sell it?" Josie asked horrified. "It's your very own school bus!"
"Is this the one you bought at the auction?" I asked Remy while the younger kids loaded the picnic hampers in the bus.
"Five hundred dollars, can you believe it?" Remy hooted. "It needed some new parts for the engine. l thought I was going to have to buy a new one, but I fixed her up!"
It must have been all internal because the bus looked about as bad off as Josie's truck. I could see spots of rust through the paint.
"You're so clever!" Josie said, jumping up and down. "It's perfect." Remy beamed.
"I'm not riding in that," I said flatly. I was having flashbacks to the compound. My father had a fleet of crappy school buses and vans. That was the only way to transport us kids to school or on the rare family outing. One of the reasons Liam was so good with machines was that as one of the youngest at the time, his hands had been small enough to fit in the engine. It was a miracle his arm hadn't been mangled.
"It hasn't been decorated yet," Remy said. "Josie's helping me decide how to brand it. My vote is for goats."
Funny, because I was thinking of how to quietly dispose of it in the night.
"I was thinking it would be like the von Trapps," she said. "Mace can be the mean father."
"Why am I the mean father? What about Hunter?" I complained. The bus shuddered as my little brothers jumped over the seats.
"It should have a name," Josie said as we took our seats.
"What about Buster?" Otis said.
"I want to name it 'The Boat,'" Theo called out.
"We'll have to have a meeting," Josie said, turning around to shout at the kids over the roar of the engine, "and take a vote."
"I want to name it Henry," Henry said.
"You can't name it after yourself," I told him.
The ride to the rail park was thankfully short.
"Watch the china," Josie said as the boys hauled the large picnic hampers down from the back bus door.
"You brought china?" I asked her.
"Of course. That's what's in the picnic basket."
"They're going to break it," I warned as the boys dragged the oversized wicker hampers off the grass.
