‘You have a choice,’ Chrissy had said to Will earlier. ‘You can either stay at home and cook dinner, or go pick up Louise from her party.’ Will looked over at his wife as he scraped the remains of his breakfast into the waste disposal sink. ‘What’re we having for dinner?’ ‘Up to you if you’re cooking.’ Will straightened up. ‘Well…’ ‘McDonalds!’ Louise cried out. ‘McDonalds.’ ‘No,’ Chrissy said firmly. ‘Not McDonalds. If Daddy’s cooking dinner, it’s going to be a proper meal. Not McDonalds, not pizza, not takeout. And not something you can nuke, either.’ ‘I’ll do the party,’ Will grunted. ‘Where is it?’ Chrissy looked over at Louise. ‘Tell Daddy.’ ‘It’s at Peyton’s house,’ Louise replied through a mouthful of waffle and syrup. ‘And where’s that?’ Will asked her. Louise did not know, so Chrissy answered. ‘Off Bleeker. It’s not far. Easier to walk than use the car.’ ‘Can we use the subway, Daddy?’ ‘No, sweetie, you can’t,’ Chrissy replied.
