“So, what else have you been up to?” Dad asks. “Other than getting in trouble the second we leave.”
“I was talking to Sonya. So far Bucky’s BBQ’s stock hasn’t been affected. I explained to her that it would be better for their family if we distanced ourselves from each other during the appeal, so we decided to take a break from our relationship. For precautionary measures.” He raises his eyebrows at Dad, waiting for his approval like the trained monkey that he is.
“Good. Smart.” Dad nods definitively with his arms folded across his chest like he’s in some kind of board meeting. It’s so weird when I think about it. How can he saygoodabout anything Gavin just said? And don’t even get me started on thesmartcomment.
“You didn’t use your phone, did you?” Dad asks.
“No, of course not. I used the landline. I wouldn’t be so careless as to use anything that could potentially interfere with the airwaves.”Gavin glares at me. As if he wasn’t shitting his pants a second ago when the tech officer was making his inquiry. “Except there’s something wrong with the phone,” he recalls. “It kept clicking during my call.”
“Clicking? How?” Mom’s interest is suddenly piqued.
Gavin looks up thoughtfully. “Well, at first it made a short beeping sound, then it clicked. It did that a few times, then stopped. Then it would start again a minute later, then stop. You should get someone to look at it.”
Mom slaps a hand on her forehead and sighs. “How can someone so smart be so…not smart?”
As much as I’d like to jump on this bandwagon disproving Dad’ssmartcomment to Gavin earlier, I don’t know what Mom is referring to. And according to the look on Dad’s face, he doesn’t understand either. So we wait for Mom to explain.
“The clicking sound is a call waiting.” When my dad doesn’t reanimate, Mom leans in, wide-eyed. “Which means another call was trying to get through.”
Comprehension immediately floods Dad’s face. “Mr.Ahn! The appeal!”
“Yes, Dale. The appeal,” Mom says, likeduh.
Dad scrambles to look up Mr.Ahn’s number in the notebook he scribbled all the important phone numbers into. Before he finds it, the phone rings. He drops the notebook and lunges for it.
“Hello? Mr.Ahn?” Dad says frantically, followed by a long pause. “Uh-huh. I see. Yes, of course,” he says, giving us no indication of whether it’s good news or bad. The rest of the call is a series of yeses and noes while Dad paces the room. After about a million minutes go by, Dad finally hangs up and immediately rushes over to rummage through his briefcase.
“What did Mr.Ahn say?” Gavin asks, hovering over him.
“It’s in here, I know it is,” Dad mutters to himself.
“What’s in there?” I ask, full of hope that it’s something that can magically get us out of here, like a wand or perhaps a crystal ball with a bright outlook.
“I found it.” Dad holds up a mysterious folder.
The less responsive he is, the more inquisitive we get.
“Let him speak.” Mom shushes me and Gavin, then stares at Dad expectantly.
“Mr.Ahn said he was able to get an appeal date for Monday.”
“That’s in one week!” Mom’s face lights up.
“If they find no wrongdoing, we can be back in our homes by the end of next week, just like he said,” Dad says. “And these are the documents that are going to prove our innocence.” He waves the folder in front of us.
“Finally good news!” I jump up and down, clapping.
“That’s a relief,” Mom says, sighing. “I’d hate to think we lost everything because of that no-good George Bronstein.”
Gavin, however, remains stoic, which is surprising, even for him. Although he’s usually devoid of emotions, you’d think he’d at least show some signs of relief knowing his future is close to being secured again. It goes without saying that I’d never be in his size tens, but that’s how I would feel if I were in his shoes. Speaking of shoes, Dad is putting his back on, which makes me panic.
“Where are you going?” I ask. “You just got back.”
“We’ll need to prepare for the appeal with Mr.Ahn,” Dad says, then turns to Gavin. “Make sure to wear your blue suit.”
“Excuse me?” Mom places her hands on her hips, facing Dad. “What about me?”
“Gavin needs to learn how to run the business,” Dad says cluelessly. “It would be a good experience for him to watch and learn.”
