The mall’s food court buzzed with noise, clinking trays, overlapping conversations, the occasional burst of laughter from a group of teenagers. I walked beside Uncle Jack, my steps small and hesitant, the way I imagined a 14 year old girl might move.

Uncle Jack placed a guiding hand on my back, steering me toward a booth in the quieter section of the restaurant. “This one okay, sweetie?” he asks, his voice warm but measured.

I nodded and slipping into the vinyl seat. I adjusted the lacey straps of the new light blue dress and tried to pull down the hem to cover more of my legs. I hadn’t noticed just how short it was when I tried it on and while walking thru the mall. Across from me, Uncle Jack scanned the menu, glancing up every so often, like he was making sure I was ok.

A waitress appeared, mid-thirties, her apron slightly wrinkled from a long shift. “What can I get you two?” she asked, pulling a notepad from her pocket.

Uncle Jack smiled. “I’ll have the burger, medium, extra pickles and a coffee, black.” He barely hesitated before flipping the menu to the bright, cartoon-covered section and tapping it. “And for her, we’ll do the grilled cheese off the kid’s menu with the smiley fries. “Oh, and a large glass of milk.”

I stiffened, fingers curling around the edge of the table. I hadn’t expected that. A regular grilled cheese, sure—but the kid’s menu? With the fries shaped like faces?

The waitress’s pen hovered for a second. Her gaze flicked at me, then back to Uncle Jack. “You sure about that? The portions are pretty small.” “Ok, let’s add a side of the Steamed Spinach” Uncle Jack added. Then chuckled, easy, effortless. “She’s a tiny thing. Won’t finish more than that and I will have to make sure she eats all the spinach.”

I forced a shy, bashful nod, as if I were used to this. As if I weren’t twenty years old, sitting across from a man who had just ordered my food like I was a child.

The waitress gave a half-shrug and jotted it down. “Alright, I’ll have that out soon.” She walked off, her ponytail swaying behind her.

Uncle Jack leaned in, lowering his voice. “You’re doing great,” he murmured.

I exhaled slowly, pushing down the flicker of unease in my chest. The act was holding.

For now.

The minutes stretched, filled with the low hum of conversation and the occasional clatter of silverware. I kept my hands folded in my lap, playing the part small, quiet, harmless. Across from me, Uncle Jack scrolled absently through his phone, his demeanor casual, controlled.

Then, the waitress returned, balancing our plates with practiced ease. “Here we go,” she said, setting Uncle Jack’s burger and coffee down first before sliding my plates in front of me. The grilled cheese had been cut diagonally, the gooey cheese peeking from the crisp edges, and beside it sat the smiley fries, their hollowed-out eyes and curved mouths staring up at me. Next to that plate was a mid-size bowl of spinach. I hate spinach.

“Here’s your milk, too,” the waitress added, placing a large plastic cup with a bendy straw on the table. She smiled down at me, her eyes warm. Then, as if just noticing, she tilted her head. “Oh, that dress is adorable! I actually bought the same one for my daughter—she just turned twelve last month.”

My stomach twisted.

Uncle Jack had chosen the dress carefully—something sweet, something just young enough. Nothing I would normally wear myself but Uncle Jack wanted me to wear it today. But hearing it out loud, hearing the age attached to it, made me feel impossibly small.

Uncle Jack let out a soft chuckle. “Guess she has good taste, huh?”

The waitress grinned. “Absolutely. She practically lives in hers.” She glanced back at me. “And it looks just as cute on you.”

I forced a bashful smile, letting my fingers toy with the hem of the dress like a shy kid might. “Thanks,” I murmured.

Uncle Jack’s hand rested on the table, fingers tapping once. “Young lady is that how you speak to an adult?”.

I blinked, then quickly added, “Thank you, ma’am.” My voice was soft, uncertain.

The waitress gave an approving nod. “Such polite manners. You raised her right.”

Uncle Jack smiled, easy, effortless. “She’s a good girl, most of the time and when she’s not she finds herself across my lap.” I waitress looked at me and smiled.

The words settled over me like a weight. I dropped my gaze to the happy, grinning fries on my plate. The waitress walked away and we started eating our food.

Uncle Jack tells me how cute I look and that I’m being a very good girl then he reminds me to eat all my spinach.

After awhile the waitress comes back to check on us, refills Uncle Jack’s coffee and clears away our empty plates. Seeing that I haven’t eaten all of my spinach she pushes the bowl closer to me and says, “Sweetie, if you're a good girl and eat all your spinach maybe you daddy will let you have some ice cream for dessert.”

As I push the spinach around the bowl with my fork Uncle Jack asks me if I have enjoyed the day so far. I say I have. Then he tells me that he really doesn’t have a 14 year old niece but has enjoyed my playing his niece. He asks me if I have been enjoying playing his niece and if I would like to do it again sometime. I say I would and he gives me his phone number and tells me to call him in two days. I answer “Yes Sir”, and then he says “Now finish your spinach young lady and I will drive you home.”