Free See You at Harry's by Jo Knowles

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.

T HE NEXT DAY , Sara gets up and drives us to school without being asked. Ran is waiting for me at my locker as usual. Cassie sees us from a few lockers down and comes rushing over. “Hey, guys,” she says. “Great shirt.”
    Ran’s shirt is hot pink and says GO WITH THE FLOW .
    “Thank you,” he says.
    For some reason, none of us has anything else to say, so we start to walk toward homeroom. We’re almost there when I see the Things headed our way.
    “Uh-oh,” I say. I move closer to Ran.
    “Hey, Hildy,” one of them says. “Is this your boyfriend?”
    Ran stops in the middle of the hall to face them. People bump into us, but gradually the traffic swerves around us. Cassie looks like she wants to crawl into a locker. I would like to join her.
    “Nice shirt,” Thing One says to Ran in his stupid “gay” voice.
    “Thanks,” Ran says. He is so calm and cool.
    “Excuse us.” I