See You at Harry's(26)

“Ran?”

“I’ve seen him look at you.”

My cheeks get even hotter. Ran?

“He thinks you’re hot,” he says, grinning.

“I’m twelve! I’m not supposed to be hot yet. You’re just saying that to embarrass me.”

“Fern the hottie!” he says, laughing.

“Shut up!” But I’m laughing, too.

Charlie comes dashing out to the living room with Doll tucked under his arm. “Hi!” he says, beaming. Something that I hope is chocolate pudding is all over the corners of his mouth. There’s also a spot on his forehead. My mom must feel pretty bad if she gave him chocolate before dinner, even if it is that gross carob stuff and not the real thing.

“Dude, go wash your face,” Holden says.

Charlie leans forward as if he’s going to wipe his face on Holden’s shirt.

“Hey!” Holden puts his hand on Charlie’s head and pushes him back. “Yuck. Tell Mom you need a bath. Your hair is sticky.”

Holden wipes his hand on his jeans.

“You mean.” Charlie sulks back to the kitchen.

“That kid is disgusting,” Holden says.

“I know.” Everything about Charlie is dismissed as cute. Even his dirtiness. I really wish my mom would take better care of him.

Music comes from Holden’s cell. He smiles at me and opens it. “Guess who?” he says.

I make a face like I can’t imagine.

“He-ey,” he says into the phone. He gets up and heads toward the stairs while he talks. “I know! I know! Check it out! Thanks so much!”

I stay on the couch and listen to my mom’s and Sara’s voices coming from the kitchen. They’re singing to UB40 at the top of their lungs. Charlie must have climbed into his high chair because I can hear his legs banging to the music. Normally I would roll my eyes and feel all annoyed, but I have to admit that I’m so glad he’s OK, he can bang all he wants.

At dinner, Charlie is delirious, shoving orange cheesy noodles in his mouth. My mom made what we call the “bad” mac and cheese. It’s the bright orange kind from a box instead of her homemade organic. My dad came home to eat with us as a special treat, and everyone seems pretty happy for the first time in a long time. My dad tells us that he decided to go with just Charlie on the label for the ice cream. We all prod him until he finally admits that some of the ad designers thought it was more appealing than our family photo. We all think this is pretty funny. And it feels great to laugh with my dad and not hurt his feelings.

About halfway through dinner, though, Holden’s new phone rings. He pulls it out and opens it to see who’s calling. As if he doesn’t know.

“Where did you get that?” my dad asks before Holden can answer the phone.

“A friend,” he says, starting to put the phone to his ear.

My dad reaches across the table and grabs Holden’s arm to stop him from answering. “Oh, no, you don’t,” he says. “Turn that thing off. It’s dinnertime.”

“But —”

“Off.”

Holden frowns and closes the phone.

“Now. I’m asking again. Where did that come from?” my dad asks.

“A friend,” Holden says.

“That’s an awfully expensive gift, honey,” my mom says.

Holden shrugs. I can see where this is headed, and I know it’s not good.

“What friend?” my dad asks.

Holden looks at me as if I can help him with this one. “A school friend. Gray.”

“Gray?” my dad asks.

“He’s nice,” I say.

“And old,” Charlie adds.

“What the —?” Holden starts.

“Now, Charlie,” my mom says at the same time.

“How old?”

No one answers.

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” my dad asks.

No one will.

“You know what? This wouldn’t even be an issue if Gray were a girl.”

“Holden, that’s not true,” my mom says.

“Just forget it.” Holden gets up and storms out of the room. A few seconds later, the front door slams.

We all sit quietly for a minute.

I watch my dad chew, mulling over everything that just happened. I swear I can hear the cogs in his brain working, putting the pieces together.

“So, this is it,” he says. “It’s really true?”

My mom and Sara look at each other.

“Try not to freak out, Dad,” Sara says.

“But he’s so young. How can he know?”

“Honey,” my mom says. “We’ve all known for ages.”

My dad sighs. “I don’t like this. How old is this kid, anyway?”

Sara, my mom, and I all look at each other. Finally, my mom tells him. “Don’t overreact, honey. But he’s a senior at the Academy. Fern says he’s very nice.”

“A senior? Good God. That’s not right. He could be taking advantage of — He could — Well, I don’t like this. No. This isn’t —”

My dad keeps sputtering.

“Are you OK, Daddy?” Charlie asks.

“This is hard for Holden, too,” I say. They all look at me. “I mean, it’s a big step for him. I think we should all try to be supportive.”