“Maybe we’ll go back there someday,” I said.
It was a bold statement, but before she could respond, Ethan walked into the bar.
“Mom! Mom! Mom! Hello! Hello! Hello!”
I turned in my seat as he made his grand entrance. Holding on to both his big sisters’ hands, his toothy smile stretched wide, eyes shining, he looked as happy as Christmas. Having the whole family together was a huge dill pickle for him. Nothing could top it.
Ethan and Mary both reacted like it had been decades since their last meeting. She quickly scooted out of her chair; he broke free of the girls. “Mom! Mom! Mom!”
“Hi, baby.” Mary kissed him on the forehead, held him close. “How’s my best guy? How’s my best guy?”
“Swimming!”
“Swimming, huh?” Mary closed her eyes, sniffed his hair. “Oh, I can smell the chlorine. You smell so clean! No bath tonight, maybe.”
“Thanks for taking him.” I smiled at Karen, who glanced away.
I turned to Mindy, who was sporting one of her many festive black summer hoodies, and said, “So, what did you do this afternoon? Beach? Spa?”
“Went whale watching.”
I actually believed her. “Really? Wow, that’s great. Where?”
Mindy smirked, rolled her eyes.
I snapped my fingers, “Oh, right, sarcasm, right. Forgot how good you are at that. Anyway”—I finished what was left of my wine—“let me settle up so we can go eat.”
I had my back to everyone, trying to flag down the bartender, when I heard Ethan say it.
“Sing.”
I reached for my wallet and began a desperate search for my credit card.
“Sing!”
“What does he want?” Karen asked.
“Sing!”
“Oh, fuck! Not here. Place is packed.”
“Sing!”
“We can’t do that now, Ethan, not now,” I heard Mary say. “Come on, let’s go sit down. We’ll sing at the table.”
“Sing. Now! Sing! Now! Sing. Now!” Ethan began yelling this.
“Excuse me!” I called to the bartender. “Excuse me!”
“Ethan, honey, not now,” Mary said. “Not now.”
“Sing! Sing! Sing! Siiiiiing!”
The bartender took in the tempest that was taking shape over my shoulder, and tentatively handed me the check.
I winked at him. “Hold on a sec.” I turned back around, scanned the bar, saw that Mindy was right—the place was packed—then saw Ethan’s expectant, bordering-on-frantic eyes.
“Let’s just do this,” I said.
Karen, late to the game, now realized what was taking shape. “Oh, forget it. I’m not doing that, not here,” she said, and attempted to walk away, but Ethan pulled her back.
“Sing!” Ethan yelled as if he were in labor.
People were starting to look at us. I knew all the elements of a bona fide scene were taking shape—an agitated Ethan, a crowded room, the nearest exit a good distance away—and felt a familiar sense of panic rising.
“Dad, come on,” Mindy said. “Let’s beat it.”
“Just do it,” I whispered. “What’s the big deal? The things you do on TV.”
“That’s my job. I get paid to do that.”
“I’ll pay you later. Come on.” I suspected the prospect of holding her sister’s hand had more to do with her reluctance than anything. “Let’s just do this. Come on.” I herded everyone into a small circle. Mustering up as much dignity as I could, I began.
“Family…” I stopped and waited for the others to join. Other than Ethan, no one did.
“Siiiiiiiing!”
“Come on, please. Act drunk if you have to. We’re in a bar.” I started again. This time I had accompaniment, though we sounded more like we were chanting than singing. “Family … Family … Family … U … S … Aaaaaa!”
Ethan made us sing this three times, an interminably long time to chant/sing in public. When we were finished, Karen and Mindy bolted into the adjoining restaurant while Ethan screeched, “Party! Party!” then fell on the floor and kicked his legs in the air, a finishing touch he saved for special occasions.
I tried to pull him up, gave up, and, against my better judgment, sheepishly surveyed the room. As expected, a lot of sunburned faces were staring our way. I offered a small wave to our audience—that’s all, folks—and turned to the bartender, who had enjoyed a front-row seat to the extravaganza.
“Now, where were we?” I asked.
I was figuring out the extra-big tip, thinking our act was over, when I heard it again. This time it was just Mary and Ethan, their voices soft.
“Family … Family…”
I turned and saw that Ethan was safely back on his feet, Mary’s arms wrapped around him. They both had their eyes closed as they swayed back and forth, cheek to cheek, on the crowded barroom floor.
I watched them for a moment. “Ready to go?”
“In a second,” she said, holding Ethan tight.