Chapter 17

Just as Michelle left the table to gather up three Ice Cream Cones, I picked up her Happy Meal Toy, Princess Leia. I fondled it with my left hand and wondered just why it had been such a prize for my daughter.

Even before I could develop the question I wanted to ask, Lindie placed her left hand gently on my right one and sighed. "Mom was really a terror to me and Michelle," she said.

"No matter what either of us did, it was wrong or bad. She had a rule, 'None of your junk in my house. Keep it in your room or it will be in the trash.'

"It was part of her training for me that I had to do everything for Michelle. Especially clean up after her."

"Man," I said. "That was pretty severe."

"Over and over all the time when Michelle was growing, mom repeated, 'You got yourself into this mess. You get yourself out!'

"I really wanted out of there. When dad offered to give me or Rusty the place, I jumped at it. I knew Rusty would not want to be here, next to your house. He blamed you for all of our troubles.

"He even tried to convince mom to call the police and have you arrested for raping me. He sort of went off the deep end.

"When I started to show with Michelle ... you know ... my pregnant tummy got the bulge, he punched me right in the stomach.

"I was so mad at him I closed my fist and gave him a roundhouse punch. I knocked him cold. He ran to tell mom I'd hit him. She came and slapped my face and even after I lifted my shirt and showed her the knuckle imprint on my belly, you know what she said?"

By then I'd had widened my eyes and couldn't believe what I was hearing. Tears welled up in Lindie's eyes and she said, "Mom told me, 'It serves you right!'

"From that moment on, I stayed in my room. I only came out to eat and use the bathroom. Usually when one or both of them was not home. Or if I needed to get away from them, I'd take a long walk and check out places to play with my baby once she was born.

"I was lucky that there was a park, you know ... a playground ... nearby. I'd watch the little kids play and I was sure my baby would have fun there too."

I held up the Princess Leia toy and when she spied it in my hand, Lindie said, "Oh. I forgot. That was one of Michelle's favorite toys. What few toys she had that is. She loved it so much she used to sleep with it.

"Anyway, one time she brought it to the dinner table. She must have been about five, maybe six. Anyway, it was sitting next to her as she and I silently ate.

"Rusty grabbed it and threw it on the floor. Michelle shrieked and cried. He said, 'That's a piece of garbage.'

"Mom moved right over to it before Michelle could move and stomped it to pieces. She said, 'Now it's a piece of garbage. Sweep it up. Put it in the trash and get back into your hole in the wall.'

"Both of us cried ourselves to sleep that night. And many nights after that.

"I saw they had one here on display and asked if I could have it. The manager here was so nice and put it in her Happy Meal. I guess it helped that I told him I used to work at a McDonalds.

"I knew Michelle would be happy," Lindie said as our little bouncing bundle of energy burst into the room with three HUGE cones.

"Mommie. They filled them WAY up!" Michelle said with such pleasure in her voice." Then she added, "And the manager said you should apply for a job here when I told him we just moved here.

"How did he know you used to work at our McDonalds?"

"I told him, Honey. You should thank him too for Princess Leia. He picked it out for you."

"I will, mommie," Michelle said with her face full of vanilla cream. "Just as soon as I finish my cone."

I laughed at that interchange and of course that cream filled face that just dove right into that towering cone. I really had never seen any piled that high. Nor had I seen anyone love attacking that delicacy with such fun.

Michelle's little tongue would point out of her mouth and she'd start at the base of the cone and lick all the way to the top, scooping ice cream onto her tongue. Balled with the cream, she'd pull the mass into her mouth and swirl it around and then swallow. Quickly her pointed tongue was out again for another pass on a different part of the cone. I had as much fun watching her as she had devouring it.

Just then an old memory returned and I slid back to Lindie's birthday party when I guess we were about nine or ten. Her mother had brought the foursome, as we were called then, to this very McDonalds for her party.

I had seen someone eat a cone just like that before! There she was, firm in my memory, pointed tongue, Lindie at nine or ten, licking her cone from bottom to top.

I smiled and almost choked on my cone when I turned to see Lindie with her cone. There she was, broad smile on her face halfway through a pass and a glob of ice cream building on her tongue.

"Like mother ... Like daughter," I said to her.

With a swirl and a swallow, she answered, "I taught her how to eat a cone properly, didn't I?"

"Yup. Just like the time we were here for your birthday..."

"When I was ten," Lindie added, completing my sentence.

Michelle picked up on that one and said, "Mom! You used to eat here when you were a kid?"

"Yes, Peanut," I answered. "We both ate here a lot back then too. I love McDonalds. Never worked at one like mom did. But mom and I ate many a Happy Meal here too!"

The banter carried on as our Ice Cream Towers shrank and the wafer cones got soggy. How she did it, I have no idea but when Michelle finished, and she actually didn't finish her cone, she said, "Wow. Dad. This was so fun!" as she placed the remainder of her unfinished treat on the tray.

The part that I had no idea how she did it was she didn't have a drop of melted Ice Cream on her dress. Yes, there was abundance all over her face, but not on her dress.

Lindie handed me what remained of her cone with the admonition, "Don't even think about it!" and picked up a wad of napkins and wiped Michelle's face dry. With a kiss to our daughter's cleaned face, she sat back next to me and held her hand out to me.

I had the urge to take a swipe at her cone as mine had been finished first. So, I lifted her cone and pointed my tongue menacingly at her cone. There was that stern 'Mom Look' and her repeating, "Don't even think about it!"

Retracting my tongue I said, "Or what!"