After Michael had loaded up Madeline's trunk and Fiona had finally figured out how to operate the 5-point harness of Charlie's car seat, they were on their way. Fiona turned around to talk to Charlie. "Charlie, are you hungry?"
"Yah."
"What would you like to eat?" Fiona asked.
"Macawoni an cheeeeeesh!" Charlie announced happily.
"I think we can do that. Michael, help me think. Where can we go? At this point it'd be faster than going to the grocery store."
"Why can't we go to Carlito's?"
"I don't think a bar is an appropriate place to take a two-year-old for dinner," Fiona snapped. "Just – go a couple of exits up. I think there's a Denny's around there."
Michael did as he was told, and, sure enough, they soon saw the bright yellow sign with cheerful red letters. He parked his mom's car, then waited as Fi helped Charlie out of his seat. If anyone saw them, he thought, they'd just assume he and Fi were Charlie's parents. They may not make any other assumptions - in 2013 they probably wouldn't even assume they were married – but they'd believe without a moment's thought that Charlie was their son. That felt surreal to Michael.
Charlie took one hand from each of them and bounced across the parking lot. Michael and Fi were still on their feet, but they were moving a little more slowly than earlier in the day, and they definitely weren't bouncing. Charlie was sapping their energy without doing a thing.
Inside, a host showed them to a booth near a window. Charlie scampered onto a bench and crawled to the window. Michael sat across from him. Fi looked at Michael for a couple of seconds, hoping he would catch her unspoken message that he should sit next to his nephew so she wouldn't have to verbalize that message, loudly, in front of Charlie, but he didn't. So Fi sat next to Charlie. The host lay a colorfully printed menu/activity sheet combo in front of Charlie, along with four crayons. Charlie started coloring the paper immediately. The menu had pictures of all the kid's meal choices. Michael spoke to Charlie, the first time he'd said more than a couple of words to the kid in almost an hour: "Charlie, I see a picture of macaroni and cheese. Just like you wanted. Would you like me to ask the waiter to bring you some?"
"Pampapes," Charlie replied, without looking up from his coloring.
Michael took a few seconds and realized Charlie was saying pancakes. "Pancakes? No, remember you said you wanted macaroni and cheese. That's why we came here."
"Pampapes."
"Ch – " Michael began.
"Michael," Fiona interrupted. "He changed his mind. Now he wants pancakes. Right, Charlie? Do you want pancakes?"
"Yah. Pampapes macawoni an cheesh."
"Wait, Charlie, put your crayon down for a second and look at me. Okay. Do you want pancakes or do you want macaroni and cheese?" Fiona asked.
"Ee bofe."
"'Ee bofe,'" Fiona repeated softly, trying to figure out what he meant. "Oh, eat both? You want to eat both of them?"
"Yah ee bofe pampapes macawoni an cheesh."
"You're supposed to pick just one, Charlie," Michael said.
"No, ee bohhhhhhhhhhfe." And with that, the whining began. Which led to crying punctuated by some screaming. Which led to Michael and Fiona looking like they were about to throw up.
"What are we supposed to do?" Michael whispered to Fi angrily.
"What makes you think I know?" Fi half-whispered half-spat back. "If he were an adult, I'd just smack him. I obviously can't do that."
"Well, we can't just let him scream here," Michael said, still in a heated whisper.
"But we can't give in to what he wants because then he'll learn to pitch a fit to get what he wants," retorted Fi.
"You're the one who wanted to bring him here, Fiona," Michael spat.
A waitress – CHARITY, according to her nametag – approached the table. "You all know what you'd like? How 'bout you, buddy? Whatcha gonna have?"
Neither Michael nor Fiona had noticed Charlie had stopped crying and was coloring again.
"Dis!" said Charlie, pointing to the picture of pizza on the menu.
Michael leaned his head all the way back and Fiona put hers down on the table.
"All righty, one pepperoni pizza for my handsome friend!" Charity replied, smiling. "What would you like for your side? You want some grapes? Or some carrot sticks? Or – "
"Just bring anything," Michael said quickly. "Anything at all."
"Ummm, okay. How about for Mom and Dad?"
"Hemlock," said Michael.
"I'm sorry?" said Charity, furrowing her brow.
"Iced tea, please," Michael responded flatly.
"Okay, I gotcha. And for you, ma'am?"
"You don't have any vodka back there, do you?" Fiona asked hopefully.
"I wish," said Charity.
"Hot tea, then," sighed Fi.
"You got it. I'll be back with your drinks in just a minute."
As Charity left, Michael and Fiona both looked at Charlie. Charlie continued coloring, and he was also singing himself a song. It was as if the last three minutes had never happened.
Oh, if wishing made it so.