See You at Harry's (2 page)

“Everyone, this is Eric,” my dad says when the photographer walks over to us. “And Sky,” he says, gesturing to a woman wearing a head scarf.

“I love your hair,” Sky says to Sara.

“Uh, that’s not a regular camera,” Holden points out when Eric lifts the camera to his shoulder.

“That’s the surprise!” my dad yells. “Surprise! We’re making a commercial! Isn’t that great?”

“Yay!” Charlie yells, and runs over to hug Eric’s legs.

We all look at my mom. “Um, wow, honey!” she says. “I had no idea!” She makes an apologetic face at us, but she knows very well there is no amount of money that is going to make us be OK with
this
plan.

“That’s why it’s a
surprise
!” my dad says. He’s beaming, as if this is the best idea he has ever had. “OK, OK. Let’s get set up.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and walks me backward so I’m standing under the huge sign in front of the restaurant. “You look terrific, sweetheart!” he says in my ear. His stale coffee breath is particularly pungent.

“Holden? You next. Right here beside Ferny.”

“I want Ferny!” Charlie whines. He grabs hold of my legs so tightly, I almost fall over.

“Watch it!” I yell. “And don’t call me Ferny!” I hate that name.

“Daddy said it first!”

“You’re not Dad!”

“Stop it, Fern,” my mom says. “He’s paying you a compliment.” Any time Charlie bugs me and I complain about it, my mom tells me I should be flattered. Flattered because he’s the only one in this family who ever pays any attention to me? I don’t think she gets how insulting that is.

My dad continues to line us up so that finally Sara, Holden, and I are squeezed in between my mom and dad. My dad picks up Charlie and perches him on his shoulder.

“I’m not doing this,” Sara says, stepping out of line.

“Now, look, honey,” my dad says. “I’m paying these people a lot of money. And with any luck, we’ll get it back tenfold when the business starts booming.”

“I don’t want business to boom. That’s just more work for me.”

“More
money
for you, sweetheart,” my dad says through gritted teeth. “You want your own car to take with you to college next year?”

My sister perks right up. “Seriously?”

My dad nods. “Now try to look happy.”

Sara gets back in line, and we all plaster on our happy faces.

“Just try to act normal,” Eric says, fiddling with the camera lens.

“That’ll be a first,” Holden mumbles.

“That’s us, one big normal family,” I whisper back.

“Hush, you two,” my mom hisses.

“Harry, you ready?”

We all look at my dad. His name is George.

“Ready when you are!” my dad says.

Eric holds up his hand and counts silently on his fingers. Five, four, three, two, one, then points to my dad.

“WELCOME TO HARRY’S!” my dad booms.

Holden’s sweaty arm rubs against mine. My mom is stiff behind me. I hope the camera is zoomed in on my dad because I think I cringed when he started talking. I try to smile as he lists off the most popular flavors of ice cream we sell.

“. . . and our most popular, Dinosaur
Crunch
!”

I hear Charlie chomp like a dinosaur. My dad laughs way too loud, then clears his throat. “IF YOU HAVEN’T BEEN TO HARRY’S, YOU HAVEN’T BEEN TO HEAVEN!” he yells.

Sky motions for all of us to wave. Charlie flaps his arm frantically and shouts, “See you at Hawee’s!” in his worst baby voice yet.

I think my ears are bleeding.

“Aaaaand cut,” Eric says.

My dad tosses Charlie in the air. “Great line, buddy!” he yells. “Should we do another take, Eric? I’m not sure how that came out.”

“Nah, Harry. It was perfect. We’ll cut anything that doesn’t look quite right and pan in on some scenes I’ll take inside. I’d like to film some customers eating cones, sundaes — stuff like that.”

“Sure, sure, sure,” my dad says. “Right this way.” We all follow him into the restaurant, which is half empty. Right away I can tell my dad has planted “customers”— our regular employees and their kids or little sisters and brothers. They all say hi to my dad like he’s a local hero, though I notice none of them call him by his real name.

My dad never corrects people when they call him Harry. He says it’s good for business because people like to think they’re talking to the guy the restaurant is named after (who was actually my grandfather). I’m pretty sure this drives my mom a little nuts, but she doesn’t say anything. My mom almost never yells or gets upset. Whenever she looks like she might start to lose it, she heads up to my dad’s stuffy office and shuts the door so she can meditate. There’s a sign on the door that she flips around before she closes and locks it. On one side, it says,
Please knock.
On the other, it says,
Mom is finding her inner peace. Come back later.
I’m not really sure what would happen if we interrupted her during meditation, and I don’t really want to find out.

Charlie follows Eric around for the next hour while he films people eating burgers and licking ice-cream cones. Sara, Holden, and I sit at one of the booths.

“I can’t believe this,” Sara says for like the hundredth time as we watch the film crew. “Thank God I’m out of high school. I would never live this one down.”

“Oh, thanks a lot,” Holden says. “I’m just
starting
! I have enough stacked against me already. Now this?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Just forget it.”

But I think I know.

I lean back in the booth and sigh. “We’re doomed,” I say.

Sara shakes her head. She doesn’t even bother to try to cheer us up because she knows we’re right.

The bell on the front door tinkles, and Random Smith walks in. He’s wearing a T-shirt that says
GLOW
on it, and I wonder what it’s supposed to mean. Ran is always wearing T-shirts with sayings on them that don’t quite make sense to me. Last year, he gave me one for my birthday that said real. I think he was upset that I never wore it. I smile at him as he comes up to the table and waves the way he always does — elbow at his waist, hand swishing back and forth like a windshield wiper. Like a robot.

“Hey, Fern,” he says.

“Hey, Ran.” When I slide over, the back of my thighs stick to the red vinyl seat and make a disgusting sound. Honestly, could my life get any more embarrassing?

A few things about Ran have changed since our days of swapping germs:

Sara winks at me and I blush.

“What’s going on?” Ran asks, taking in the scene.

“My dad is ending our lives as we know it,” I say.

“TV commercial,” Holden explains.

Ran cringes just as Charlie comes racing across the room and hugs him.

“Hey, little man,” Ran says. They do their special handshake, which involves rubbing palms together. I don’t think Ran knows or else cares how risky it is to touch Charlie’s hands. No one knows where they’ve been — but most likely in some pretty disgusting places.

“Wanna sundae?” Charlie asks.

“Yeah!” Ran follows Charlie to the ice-cream counter, and they disappear behind it. A few minutes later, they return with a huge banana-split bowl filled with every topping we sell. They each have a spoon but share the bowl.

“That’s disgusting,” Sara says.

Charlie and Ran ignore her and go to town. Miraculously, they eat the whole thing. When they finish, Charlie’s mouth has an almost-perfect chocolate circle around it that slowly drips down his chin. He looks just like the dinosaur on his T-shirt.

Ran carefully wipes his mouth with a napkin from the dispenser on the table. Then, instead of getting a new one, he just folds it over and wipes Charlie’s mouth for him. Charlie beams.

In the distance, my dad tries to get the line cooks behind the counter to say, “See you at Harry’s,” but they look kind of confused. Instead, Charlie yells it from our table.

I hide my face in my hands.

“What’s wrong?” Ran asks with his familiar bewildered look.

“Can’t you tell how lame this commercial is going to be?” I ask him.

“Well, yes,” he says slowly. “But that’s not
your
fault.”

“Since when does it matter if an embarrassing moment is your fault or not?” I ask him. “Do you not remember the elf cards? It took months for me to live that down.”

“Only because you let it bother you,” he says calmly.

“Whatever,” I say, staring at the orange letters on his T-shirt.
GLOW
. Yeah. Why is it so easy for Ran to just glow, when I’m the one wearing the neon T-shirt?

“L
ET’S GET OUT OF HERE
,” Sara says when we finally can’t listen to my dad anymore. “Ran? You need a ride home?”

“I have my bike,” he says. “Thanks for the ice cream, little man.” He does his handshake with Charlie again. This time their hands sort of stick, and Ran has to wipe his on his jeans.

“See you later, Fern.” He gives me an odd salute before he turns to leave.

In the car, Holden turns around from the front seat and grins at me. “So, Fern. What’s with Random, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“Ran? He’s looking pretty cute these days.”

Sara eyes me in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, Fern. What’s up with that?”

“Um, I don’t control people’s metamorphoses.”

Charlie makes Doll look at me with her unchanging surprised expression.

“Where’d you learn
that
word?” Holden asks.

I shrug.

“So, anyway, are you two going to be more than just friends? I could see him looking at you in that special way.” Holden raises his eyebrows.

“Random and Ferny sitting in a tree . . .” Sara sings.

Charlie makes Doll dance.

“I think it’s time for all of you to shut up now,” I say.

“Bad word!” Charlie says, hitting me with Doll’s head.

“Ow! Knock it off.” I push Doll away and look out the window.

The truth is, I don’t really know how I feel about Ran. When he smiles at me as if I am more than his childhood best friend, sometimes it makes me happy. Sometimes it makes me scared.

“If you don’t snatch him up, someone else will,” Holden says.

“Like you, Mr. Faggypants?” Sara reaches over to pinch Holden’s cheek. “Better watch out, Fern.”

Holden hits Sara’s hand away. But she just laughs. “Chill out — I’m only joking.”

“I can’t believe you,” he says, turning away from her to glare out the window.

“You people need to lighten up,” Sara says.

At the stop sign just before the turn to our house, Holden jumps out of the car, slams the door, and starts walking.

“Oh, please,” Sara says. “No one can take a joke.”

“Your jokes aren’t funny,” I say. “You hurt his feelings.”

“Well, he better grow a thicker skin soon if he’s going to survive high school.”

“Why?”

“Because he wears who he is on his impeccably ironed J.Crew sleeve — that’s why. I mean, he’s like the quintessential fag.”

“What’s a fag?” Charlie asks.

“A boy who likes boys instead of girls,” Sara says.

“And it has nothing to do with how someone dresses!” I yell.

“Except in Holden’s case,” Sara says calmly.

“I know you think you’re funny, but you’re not. And stop saying that word!”

“Just telling it like it is, Ferny.”

I wish Sara could be more like the Sara she was named after from
A Little Princess.
That Sara is nice to everyone. Even the mice in the attic. This Sara seems to find it necessary to look for everyone’s weak spot. And then stomp on it.

When we get home, Charlie runs around the yard with Doll, throwing her in the air, then catching her and kissing her.

An hour or so later, my dad drops my mom off. He’s all excited about taking the delivery truck someplace for another surprise. My mom gives me and Sara a look that tells us to zip it, but even she seems pretty wary.

“Holden ran away!” Charlie says as my dad pulls back out of the driveway.

“What?”
my mom asks, dropping a bag of groceries. “Where did he go?”

“Faggypants, faggypants,” Charlie sings, walking around my mom in a circle as he traces his finger across her legs.

“Stop it, Charlie. That’s not nice.” She looks at me and Sara accusingly. “And who taught him that lovely word?”

I can’t believe she has to ask.

“I was only joking around,” Sara says.

“Which way did he go?”

“He got out at the stop sign on the corner,” I say.