My mind is racing with so many questions that I don’t know where to begin. Who are these other people Father met? What does he mean about the minds and memories of everyone slipping into oblivion? Why is the world going to end in five hours? Why are they sure that I’m the one who’s supposed to stop it? And, what, precisely, do they expect me to do?

Before I can ask anything, though, Jake poses another stupid question. “So, you know that the world is ending, but you aren’t God. Tell me. Is God real?”

I think, seriously, Jake. Give it a rest! But, before my groan escapes my lips, Father says, “That’s a good question, Jake. No one knows for certain, but my wife and I believe that God exists, which is why we’re here. If she’s right, then Jeannette is the key to finding him.”

I cry out, “Oh, for Heaven’s sake, you want me to awaken your unborn, cosmic baby, to save humanity from oblivion, and, now, to introduce the entire universe to God? Give me a break! Do you do this with all your children?”

Both Mother and Father become unexpectedly sullen after my remark, and we sit in awkward silence for several minutes. I finally apologize, saying, “I’m sorry, but this is all a bit overwhelming.”

Mother’s expression softens as she explains that this is all a big deal to them as well.

“No one has ever spent as much time and effort nurturing a child as we have with you. We spent billions of years to get you to this point, and we have been ostracized for our attempts to guide you. If you fail, then all we worked for will fail as well. And, I believe that, if we fail, the entire universe will collapse.”

I shout, “Did I not just tell you that I am overwhelmed? Now you’re making me responsible for the continuing existence of the entire universe? Come on, already!”

Father walks over and rubs my shoulders. “Don’t worry about the universe, Jeannette. I understand what your mother means, but the universe will not collapse tomorrow, should you not manage to awaken our daughter.”

I shrug him off and say, “Thanks for the support, but what do you mean that you’ve spent time and effort nurturing us? You certainly don’t seem to be around much as far as I can tell.”

Father steps back and responds, “Perhaps not by your time scale, but remember that we've been guiding you for billions of years. The entire human existence is merely a blink of our eyes. We typically mate and let nature take its course, but we truly have nurtured you. I've nudged cometary fragments or tickled volcanic eruptions to redirect evolution in ways that extinguished less-desirable species and encouraged others to develop. And, I've spent enormous amounts of time with humans over the past several thousand years guiding your development and trying to refine your character. Most of your mother's peers think we are performing some sort of heinous experiment on our child. We, however, think that you are the universe's greatest hope. Don't worry, Jeannette. Our child will still be born tomorrow, even if you can't awaken her yourself.”

Jake complains, “Why is this all about Jeannette? Why is everything about her when we’re all your children?”

Mother starts to answer, but I interrupt. Jake’s question just caused a sudden realization to click into place.

“They aren't talking to me, Jake. They're trying to talk to their child! They think that I can read minds and communicate with their baby. These two don't care about us at all. People are just symbiotes whose brains help their baby's mind develop. They don't want me to wake up. They're trying to get their baby to emerge!”

Mother turns to Father and says, “I told you she would understand.”

Then, she faces me and continues. “Jeanette, you can do far more than read minds. Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that your restaurant guests always want to eat something that is on your menu?”

I want to be insulted, but her comment throws me off stride. I always assumed that I simply select meals that people will enjoy, but Mother is right. Guests always want something on our menu, even though we have some pretty outrageous options.

Father adds, “You see, dear, while you do recognize people’s tastes, you also use those preferences to implant a desire for something you serve. Except that you can’t do that. Even if your airplane mode is turned off, you can only interact with the copies of people’s memories stored in our daughter’s nascent mind. You cannot influence the minds of actual people.”

“Then how do I do it?” I suspiciously ask.

Mother simply replies, “You don’t.”

I tell you, I’ve just about had it with these two.

Father quickly adds, “You read the cloud backup of other people’s desires to determine the most suitable menu selections. Then, you share that suggestion with the only one who can influence their minds here on Earth.”

I whisper, “Earth Baby.”

Mother smiles, “That is not her name, but it will do for now. You see, we cannot communicate with our daughter, but we know that you can, at least concerning dining selections. We need you to tell her to wake up before morning.”

“And, how am I supposed to do that?”

Mother shakes her head, and Father admits, “We have no idea. No one has ever done this before.”

We sit in silence again for a few moments before Father brightens and asks, “Hey, would you like to see a normal birth? I could show you your older sister being born.”

I eagerly agree because it seems like a good distraction from my impossible task. Jake sheepishly asks whether he can come too, and Father laughingly agrees. Mother informs us that we might find it a bit disconcerting, but Father dismisses her warning and calls for another round of drinks before leaving.