"Screw that. We're going to lunch." "It's almost dinnertime." "Then we're going to dinch. Or lunner. Or whatever the hell early-dinner-late-lunch stupid combo we can come up with." "Now isn't . . ." Andrea's eyes blazed. "Kate, I'm nine months pregnant and I'm hungry. Get in the damn car." I got in the Jeep, and Andrea peeled out like a bat out of hell. "We're"