In fact Mama carried Rachel to the only other piece of furniture in the room, a changing table. Like everything else, it was wide and long enough to fit a twenty-one-year-old. Mama set her down on her back, making her squirm as the cool plastic brushed across her exposed skin. Then Mama pulled a sizable strap across her tummy and buckled it in so she wouldn’t fall off the table.
“Don’t need dat!” Rachel insisted.
But Mama shushed her and in a quick motion slipped a pink binkie between her lips. Rachel tried to spit it out right away, but Mama held it there a moment. It felt good to have the rubber teat in her mouth actually. Something about suckling was so comforting, it was indescribable.