Three Wishes

Mikey’s predicament hadn’t changed in the last twelve hours. He was still wondering what the hell he was doing. The only thing that had changed was the setting. Now he was seated at a posh restaurant that Pete had suggested in the Valley. The candle flickered between Mikey and the empty seat, bent and refracted by the glass of lemony water that Mikey had put a decent dent in.

He looked at his watch wondering where his… ex-friend could be. But who was he to kid. It was Pete Wentz we were talking about here. Pete Wentz was never late, per say. Everyone else was just early.

Mikey felt a tug at the buckle of his boot that pulled him out of his reverie, forcing him to look down next to him.

A little boy with a head of blonde curls starred up at him. His face was a mix of impatience and curiosity. The curiosity stemming from the fact that they had never met before. The impatience stemming from the fact that boys between the ages of one and thirty were always impatient.

“Bronx!” his father called after him, stumbling towards the table and scooping him up in his arms. He didn’t look to Mikey, but instead hassled to look around for a waiter. “Sorry I’m late. Ash had a change of plans and I needed to take Bronx this week.”

Mikey looked to Bronx, sitting on his dad’s hip, still staring at Mikey with a curious glance, as if he wasn’t sure if he should trust him.

Pete finally rallied a server. “Hi, I’m sorry about this but could we get another chair and maybe like a booster seat for the tike?” Pete’s voice begging to not be a burden.

“Of course, I’ll see what I can find,” said the waitress, mesmerized by his handsomeness, obviously. This caused Mikey to smile to himself.

Five minutes later, things were settled. Bronx was sitting up at the table on a stack of decade old yellow pages and Pete was looking just as anxious as his son.

“I’m sorry about this. Ashlee decided she needed some time away from everything and I didn’t really have a choice on short notice.” Pete smoothed down his beanie over his hair.

“Don’t worry about it. I understand. I mean… I never even got to meet him,” Mikey took a sip of his water.

Pete starred back blankly. “But… I-I guess I thought you had.” He turned towards Bronx and reached out to grab one of his hands. “Hey, buddy. This is Uncle Mikey. He is an old friend on mine. Do you wanna say hi?”

Bronx starred back at Mikey, biting at his thumb and looking full of wonder.

Pete shrugged, “Sorry, he’s shy like his dad.”

Mikey laughed, “Sure.” He turned towards Bronx. “Hello, Bronx. It is very nice to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you.”

“Liar,” Pete smiled.

“No, I really have. Just not from you,” Mikey looked back up at him.

“From who then?” Pete wrinkled a brow.

“Your chatty, Ecuadorian nanny,” Mikey laughed.

Pete still look confused.

“Gabe,” Mikey admitted, nodding his head.

“Gabey!” Bronx bumbled out and stretched his arms out on the table.

“That’s right!” Mikey smiled back.

“Well, I’m sorry about this. I swear it’s not how I planned,” Pete began looking over the menu.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Mikey waved him away.

Bronx reached out, grabbing at Pete’s fork.

“No, no, no,” Pete gently pulled the utensil away.

Mikey reached down into his bag and grabbed his notebook and his package of markers. He flipped to an open page and poured all the markers onto it.

Bronx looked up at him wide eyed, before pursing his lips pensively and uncapping a blue one.

“Thank you,” Pete smiled at him. “Carry that stuff around everywhere still?”

Mikey nodded. “Just in case.” He uncapped a purple one and started drawing alongside Bronx’s doodles.

“So are you ready to order?” the waitress said cheerfully approaching the table.

----

The candle had burned down quite a bit as did the atmosphere in the restaurant. Everybody was done with dinner and enjoying the quiet in the dining room.

Mikey sipped at his coffee as he watched Pete and Bronx dissect a slice of moon pie layer cake.

“Dad,” Bronx whispered to Pete just loud enough for Mikey to hear. “Potty time.”

“Okay, little dude. Come on,” Pete lifted him from the chair and lowered him to the ground, grabbing his little hand. “We will be right back.”

Mikey watched Bronx waddled to the bathroom, all too much like his father’s own canter.

“Sir, whenever you are ready,” said the waitress, placing the check on the corner of their table.

“Oh wait here,” Mikey said pulling out his wallet and rifling for his card. He pulled it out before sliding it into the leather check holder.

“Thank you, sir,” the waitress smiled and turned away.

Mikey felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He sighed because he knew. He knew who it was from and he knew what it was about. He grabbed it out of his pocket.

Where were you tonight?

Sunday was family dinner night at Gerard’s house. The day of the week had become synonymous with dinner. Missing wasn’t an after thought as long as you were in town. Mikey wasn’t there. He replied:

Couldn’t make it, bro. Sorry. Say hi to B and L for me.

“Hey, sorry about that,” Pete said, taking a seat and helping Bronx back up onto his thrown.

“No problem,” Mikey said, hastily shoving the phone back into his pocket.

“Here you go, sir. Have a great night,” the waitress slid the check holder back onto the table.

Mikey looked up at Pete and saw his face and shoulders drop. “Mikey,” he sighed. “I was suppost to be treating you.”

Mikey quickly grabbed his card and slid it back into his wallet as if it could erase the evidence. “You already did. Don’t worry about it.”

Pete sighed, disappointed. He turned his attention to Bronx. “Bronx, you ready to go home?”

“The park,” he said simply.

“No, not the park, Bronx. Home. It’s dark outside,” Pete shook his head.

Bronx’s face looked slightly panicked, “No Daddy, park!”

“Pete, there is a park right by my house. They light it up at night. We can take him if you want,” Mikey offered.

“Yeah! Uncle Mikey said yes,” Bronx smiled.

Pete sighed, “Okay fine. Just for a little while.”

Bronx giggled and tried to climb out of his chair quickly.

“Woah woah woah. Hang on, little bro,” Pete said grabbing both of his hands and lifting him out and onto the ground.

“Mikey come on,” Bronx yelled.

“I’m coming,” Mikey smiled and grabbed his bag before following that pair out.

“Just follow me,” Mikey said, pulling his keys from his pocket.

----

“So I still owe you,” Pete said as he pushed Bronx in the swing at the park.

Mikey rolled his eyes. “Come on. It’s not a big deal. Forget about it.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you want me to owe you so you can see me again,” Pete smiled a little.

Mikey shook his head, “you read into things too much, Wentz.”

“Maybe so, but I still owe you,” Pete laughed, grabbing the chains of the swing and slowing it down. “Hey, B. We gotta jet, little man.”

Bronx jumped from his seat and began to run across that park. “No,” he said giggling like crazy.

Mikey ran after him, snatching him up. “I don’t think so!” he said holding him in the air for a moment before pulling him in, hanging him slightly upside down.

Bronx giggled and fidgeted.

Mikey carried him back his father and dumped the light weight child into Pete’s arms. “I got this for you.”

“Aw thanks,” Pete smiled. “I have always wanted one of these.”

“Dad, Dad!” Bronx shouted as he squirmed upright and looked into his father’s eyes. “Is ummm... Mikey gonna come watch me tomorrow?”

Pete stopped for a second, thinking, “No, no, B. Not tomorrow, bud. Maybe some other time.”

Mikey looked at him, “What do you mean?”

Pete shook his head, “It’s nothing. I have a flight out tomorrow for a business deal and this whole thing is a little last minute. I’m gonna try and call Gabe up or maybe-”

“I can take him, Pete,” Mikey said.

Pete stopped again. All of this thoughts smashing and delaying behind his eyes, “No, no. It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

“Pete,” Mikey looked at him seriously. “I am coming over tomorrow. I will watch him for the night. It’s all good.”

Pete sighed, “But just think of how much I’ll owe you after that.”

Mikey smiled and let the silence settle for just a moment.

“Yay! Mikey’s watching me, Dad!” Bronx triumphed.

“He sure is, bud,” Pete smiled at his son. “You’ll see him tomorrow. Say, ‘bye, Mikey!.’”

“Bye, Mikey!!” Bronx waved.

“Bye, Bronx!” he smiled and waved back. “See ya tomorrow, Pete. Text me.” And he turned towards his car.

As he pulled his collar up against the night breeze, he wished that he could just say no.