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“Only the ones who deserve to be rewarded,” he scoffs, and then glances at Randy. “Did you have her put Derek on there?”
Randy nods, but I swear a flicker of agitation makes his cheek twitch. Derek is our second cousin. I honestly don’t even know what he does at Fairway Foods or if I’ve seen him there more than twice in the past year. He has an adult acne problem and smells like sour gym feet all the time. My guess would be there’s a steroid problem there, but I know better than to criticize anyone Dad looks upon favorably.
The thought of another annual party where I stand awkwardly in the shadows, avoiding people, is not something I’m looking forward to. I wish I knew how to better belong to this family, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get it right.
“Mm, he’s got a point,” Dad hums, making me do a double-take when I realize he’s talking about me. “What about Carver? His numbers are always good.”
“Carver’s become a problem,” Randy informs him.
Pete is a problem? How is Pete a problem? He’s like a model employee.
“Oh?”
“I caught him trying to run a performance raffle for his unused leave as an incentive for his workers. He’s getting a little too big for his britches, if you ask me. I shut it down,” he assures.
“Hm. Well, keep an eye on him.”
Pete was going to give away his leave? That’s… super thoughtful. No wonder his workers love him.
“What’s the problem with that?” I ask. “I’d think his staff would probably enjoy knowing their hard work was being rewarded.” When everyone gawks at me, I stammer, “Right?”
“We don’t bribe our workers to do their jobs,” Randy scathes. “We pay them. Why should we pay them, though, if people like Pete Carver come along and build their own reward system? It’s nothing short of a mutiny waiting to happen.”
We don’t bribe people? Dad and Randy bribe people all the time. Maybe not with money, but with promises and positions they’re not qualified for.
“Yeah, but…”
“But what?” He sighs.
“But it’s just some leave. We’d have to pay out leave, anyway. It’s not like it’s something extra or costs the company more. Wouldn’t that little extra motivate people? I mean, it could be a good thing.”
“You know nothing about business, Cameron. Just stick to your data entry. Okay?” Randy shakes his head and stabs his steak with his fork.
“Well, I think it’s a lovely idea,” Mom chimes in. “Especially if it’s not an added expense,” she adds, glancing at Dad.
I know she means well, but the instant her mouth opened, I knew I was doomed. The only person, in Dad’s opinion, who can’t possibly have a good idea besides me, is Mom.
“Listen to your brother,” Dad says, leveling me with a look. “If you want to move up, learn from Randy.”
I nod, but it gives me no pleasure, like when Pete asked me to nod. What else can I do?
Leaning back in his chair, Dad raises his bourbon glass to his lips and adds proudly, “I taught him everything he knows.”
Across the table, Randy’s ears flush a shade of pink as he focuses on his food. I forgot they do that when he’s mad. Why does he work so hard to kiss Dad’s ass if he doesn’t like the attention as much as I suspected?
Picking at my food, I suddenly feel drained. I’m sure Leonora did her utmost to prepare our dinner as always, but each bite tastes blander than the last.
Violet and Travis have flooded the awkward silence with conversation about the new partner at Travis’ law firm. It’s enough to restore my safe sensation of invisibility.
Leaning to my left, I whisper to my niece, “Could you pass me the salt?”
Sighing, she prongs another sprig of asparagus from her plate. Oblivious.
“Penelope, sweetie, could you please hand–”
“I heard you,” she informs me, eyes still fixed on her plate.
Wow. Maybe someone didn’t get a nap today. I feel that pain right now and can’t blame her for being short with me.
