To read previous editions, go here.

“I suppose,” Carolina squeaked, “I suppose I’ll have…”

“Peanut butter pie!” one lady shouted, brandishing a fork that had been licked clean.

“Fish tacos!” another lady shouted.  The frog band on the lilly pad scooted away from her, hiding behind their tea cup lids.

“Scones with cream!”  a little girl bellowed.

“Pimento cheese sandwiches with fried pickles!” another very pregnant woman, who was drooling, added.

“Hot dog and croissant sandwiches!” a little boy suggested, his face smeared with ketchup.

The words, so ready to leap off Carolina’s tongue, scurried back to hide in her throat.  “Um…” she stuttered.  “All those dishes sound interesting….”

“Come on, Carolina!” Josh urged.  “You can have whatever you like!  Just pick something already!  Do you need to hear the menu again?”

“Oh no!  That’s quite alright”–

But the frogs, delighted to have a chance to sing again, enthusiastically strummed their wooden spoons and beat against the porcelain lids.  The lead singer stepped forward, his green throat swelling with pride and sound.

“For appetizers we have hot dogs on a stick or artichoke and spinach dip with chips made like ships. For salads we have ones for rabbits or humans, depending on whether you like mouse droppings or olives. We have plenty of soups in every flavor and color, sandwiches with turkey and sandwiches made from butter. We have fried chicken and baked chicken and chicken a la king; beef tenderloin and beef tacos and plenty of beef that’s rather mean. We have lamb gyros and cinnamon churros and and cheesecake with scones; peanut butter pie and chocolate spaghetti and waffles big enough for trolls. We have anything you please and everything you like, what will you be having tonight?”

The menu sounded even more confusing the second time around.  Carolina glanced at the tables, her eyes skimming over cupcakes that looked like toadstools with candy butterflies fluttering their wings, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches formed into swans and even pizza bagel sandwiches shaped into wagon wheels with spokes of white stringy cheese.  Blinking, she stared at her feet in her pink shoes.  “I’m….I’m a bit confused,” she whispered.

“She wants a blue shoe?” one of the frogs shouted, who was very old and hard of hearing.

“She’s confused!” Josh shouted back.  Crinkling his brow, he cocked his head at her.  “Why?”

“Wouldn’t you be confused, if you had all this to choose?”

Carolina whirled around.  “Grandmother?” she gasped.

The woman before her looked like her grandmother, but she looked nothing like her grandmother.  The woman had her grandmother’s face, tall lithe figure and grey hair.  But her grandmother, who wore tailored silk suits with her hair in a chignon and tiny emerald pin on her breast, did not have this woman’s magenta dress that barely skimmed her knees and showed more cleavage than any woman over 70 should reveal.  Perched on a crown of grey tumbling curls was a enormous pink hat featuring an entire grocery store of fruit, along with a sheer silk wrap glittering with silver and pink rhinestones.  Carolina didn’t even have to look at her feet to know she was wearing satin pink heels with ribbons that laced up to her knee with a huge bow like a ballerina’s toe shoes.

The woman’s face contorted in horror, then smoothed into a hearty laugh that flashed her molars.  “Oh gosh, no!  You must be Carolina.  Your grandmother and I are twins.”

Carolina was sure she would have to collect her jaw off the shimmering floor.  “Twins!”

“Well, more or less.”  The woman beamed and extended her hand.  “Hibiscus Honeycutt, Southern Belle and Lady O’ Tea Cakes.  Your grandmother and I aren’t twins, at least biologically.  But for some unknown reason, we look almost identical, though we are complete and total opposites.  She didn’t tell me you came here!”

“She brings me here every day,” Carolina answered.  “Normally we eat in Comfort.  I have the chicken tenders, macaroni and cheese and the fruit salad.”

“With peanut butter cookies.”  Josh rolled his eyes.

“Yes.”  Carolina nodded.

Hibiscus Honeycutt blinked at her.  “You’ve never tried the pecan pie?  Or the buttercup blondies?  Or the chicken salad on a croissant?  Or the macaroni and cheese with five types of cheese and two types of bacon?  Or the buttermilk fried chicken?  The tiny burger sampler?”

“No,” Josh interrupted before Carolina could respond.  “She eats the same thing every time.  It’s…”  He trailed off when he saw Carolina’s lower lip tremble.  “–interesting,” he finished.

Hibiscus scowled at him.  “It’s the girl’s birthday.  She can eat what she wants.”  She turned to Carolina.  “Now child, don’t look at these others.  Close your eyes and tell me what you wanted, before you got nervous.”

Squirming under the woman’s gaze, Carolina reluctantly closed her eyes.  Her cheeks burning with the ridiculousness of it all, she coaxed the words back onto her tongue.  “Tuna salad with biscuits and jelly and apples cut to look like a rose with a side of banana. And for dessert–a peanut butter pie with peanut butter sprinkles and peanut butter frosting!”  She cracked one eye open and waited for everyone to laugh.

Instead, the entire cafe burst into applause.  The frogs cheered so enthusiastically one fell off the lilly pad into the water, where he waved his spoon gaily instead.

“Well done, Carolina!” Hisbiscus cheered.  Whipping off her wrap, she smiled.  “If you don’t mind, I’ll join you and dine with you and your grandmother.”  Turning to Josh, she smiled.  “I’ll have the Menu Surprise.”

The room became so silent Carolina could hear a rhinestone fall off Hibiscus’ wrap.

“What?” she asked, glancing around.  “What’s the Menu surprise?”

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  We have a week of whimsy coming up!