See You at Harry's(20)

The guy looks bored. “Uh-huh.” He licks his cone again.

“It’ll be just like Ben and What’s-His-Name,” my dad continues. “And I’m thinking we should use an image from the ad, like I said. Only with the whole family, not just Charlie.”

I look up at him.

Say what?

“You know, with all of us standing under the sign. Wouldn’t that be great?”

He squeezes me tighter, clearly thinking I’m going to share his excitement about this latest brilliant idea. Sure, Dad. Our family photo on pints of ice cream at every store in town? Oh, yeah. That would be faaaaantastic.





AT DINNER THAT NIGHT, I pick at my garlic mashed potatoes while Sara tries to explain why my dad must not, under any circumstance, put our picture on an ice-cream label. I make a butter pond in my potatoes and slowly sacrifice overcooked lima beans into the butter water. Every time Sara raises her voice, Charlie bangs his feet against his high chair and chants, “See you at Hawee’s!”

My dad seems to think this is hysterical. “I can always count on you, bud, can’t I?” he says, looking around at the rest of us disappointedly. He reaches across the table to ruffle Charlie’s hair. He pulls his hand away and makes a face, then wipes mashed potato off his fingers. Sara catches my eye, and we share smirks.

“Where’s Holden, anyway?” my dad asks.

My mom looks at the clock, then at me. I shrug. I don’t think Holden was expecting my dad to be home for dinner two nights in a row.

“As I was saying,” Sara goes on, “I don’t understand why you can’t just use Charlie’s photo, Dad. Like the one on the truck.”

“This is a family restaurant, Sara. Family. I want us all to take part. We’re a team!”

“I thought team members got a say in their strategy,” she says.

“Think of me as the team captain. The team captain knows what’s best.”

Oh, brother. I continue to drown all of my lima beans and wait for Sara to give a good comeback, but then Holden walks through the front door.

“Sorry I’m late!” he says cheerfully, and disappears into the kitchen. He returns with a huge pile of mashed potatoes on his plate.

“Why are you in such a good mood?” Sara asks.

“None of your business,” he says, cramming his mouth full of potato. “Mmm, Mom. These are fantastic.”

“Well, you won’t be so happy when you find out what Dad’s been up to,” Sara says.

Holden stops chewing.

“Oh, Sara, don’t be so dramatic,” my mom says.

“Dad’s putting our picture on ice-cream cartons that are going to be for sale in all the grocery and convenience stores,” I tell Holden. “Our picture from the commercial.”

Holden practically chokes on his potatoes. “Why?”

“That’s what I said!’ Sara agrees. “I’m eighteen. That means I have to give my permission for anyone to use my image. Right, Mom? I mean, legally? Fern, Holden, and Charlie are minors, so you have to make the decision whether or not you want to exploit them, but you can’t exploit me!”

“What’s essploit?” Charlie asks.

“Daddy’s not exploiting anyone,” my mom says.

“That’s exactly what he’s doing! Doesn’t he realize how bad we all look? I mean, give me a break! At least if he wants to use us, let us retake the photo so we look halfway decent.”

“Am I not sitting at this table?” my dad asks.

“Why can’t you just use the picture of Charlie that’s on the truck?” Holden asks him.

“See?” Sara asks. “Charlie’s the perfect solution.”

Charlie blows a raspberry at her. I’m sure he would’ve wiggled his bum, too, if he wasn’t trapped in his high chair.

“Fern,” my dad says, “you’ve been pretty quiet about all of this. How do you feel?”

Everyone looks at me, as if they just now realize I am sitting at the table, even though I spoke six seconds ago.

My mom eyes my butter pond with disgust.

“I like the Charlie idea,” I say. “No offense, but we looked pretty lame in that ad. Sorry, Dad.”

He shakes his head. “What is happening to this family? What happened to our team?”

“Go, team!” Charlie yells.

“Maybe we should vote,” my mom suggests.

My dad’s face is getting redder by the minute. I feel bad for disappointing him, but when I picture our hideous family photo in the freezer of every convenience and grocery store in town, I can’t bring myself to take his side.

“Never mind.” My dad gets up and clears his plate. My mom follows.

“Down!” Charlie says.

Sara pushes his high chair back, and he slides out and runs toward the kitchen after my parents.

“You could have been a little nicer,” I say.

“It was the only way to make him listen, Fern. Dad just goes too far. All he cares about is the business.”

“Even so,” I say. I pick up my plate and head to the kitchen, too.

The thing is, my dad is the kind of person who gets carried away. When he thinks he has a good idea, there’s just no stopping him. We all know he doesn’t only care about the business. But sometimes . . . yeah. Sometimes it does sort of feel that way.