"You should save your money.  Someday you'll have a wife and you'll need it.  Besides, I like McDonald's."

"It's plastic, kids and parents with a little grease and salt mixed in."

She leaned over, tuned in a rock station, and once again adjusted the volume.  I gave up, both on tuning down the radio and on the choice of restaurants.  Vivian Baker was notoriously stubborn.

The parking lot was full of minivans and SUV's.  I always thought by the time I turned thirty-five I would be married with car seats of my own in the backseat, but things hadn't worked out that way.

We walked through the door and people were three deep at the counter.  I only saw two cashiers so I suggested that Mom get the napkins and ketchup while I stood in line.

"Mark, don't forget my gift certificates," she reminded me.

"I won't."  Every week she insisted I purchase a book of gift certificates that she would slip in her purse.  When I asked her what they were for, she simply told me that they were for a friend and then her lips drew tight like a purse string.

I suspected that she was handing them over to homeless people or else she was hording them the way some people stock pile canned soup or toilet paper.

I studied the overhead menu trying to decide if I wanted a Big Mac or Fish sandwich.  All around me people shifted on their feet, waiting for their turn to order.  French fry cookers beeped loudly, an employee with a blue shirt and black tie shouted to the cooks in the back, while a woman with a white shirt and headphones hustled back and forth behind the counter putting fries and burgers into paper bags.  A highchair rattled loudly across the tile floor.  A table of teenagers laughed.  The noise bouncing off the bright red and yellow walls all led to a festive atmosphere.

It seemed to take forever but finally the cashier was handing over the brown plastic tray with super sized drink cup, Big Mac, gift certificates, two extra large fries, cheeseburger and a large strawberry shake.  I picked up the tray with my left hand while tucking my change into my pants pocket.  When I turned around I bumped into the woman who was standing behind me with two young boys.  My strawberry shake tipped and I watched helplessly as the cover popped off and the bright pink liquid streamed onto the woman's black dress slacks and splattered onto her black shoes.