Don't You Wish Read Online Free Page A

say dryly, fighting the urge to sigh. Dad’s inventions are brilliant and ridiculous, and so is he. “So, uh, who do you think would buy this, Dad?” I ask.
    “Only the six billion people who’ve downloaded that Famous Faces app.” He takes the phone and waves it. “This country is obsessed with looks and weight loss. This is the most incredible combination of the two in history!”
    Easy to see where Theo gets his drama-king gene. “That’s saying a lot, Dad.”
    “Well.” He shrugs modestly. “It needs work, obviously. I have to somehow create a permanent motherboard and computer that attaches to the mirror, but once I do, and I patent the smartphone app, then I have sole ownership of what will be known as the hottest new invention of this millennium. I could get this into every health club in America.”
    “Or into every plastic surgeon’s office.” Mom’s voice comes from the top of the stairs.
    “So true, Em. Come and look at this!”
    “Really, Mom,” I call. “You need to see what I’d look like if I were perfect.”
    “You
are
perfect,” she says softly.
    I almost snort with laughter, but something strange about her tone makes me stop.
    “Of course, this is just a prototype,” Dad says quickly. “We need to get a really high-end computer and a special—”
    “And where are you going to get the money for a really high-end computer?” Mom’s voice is cold as ice as she slowly makes her way down the stairs.
    Dad looks a little taken aback. “You remember the idea that woke me up in the middle of the night a couple of weeks ago, Em? I really think I nailed it. First you see what you weigh. You love that, right?”
    “Especially if you’re five-ten and weigh a hundred and forty-three,” I add, trying to make light.
    “Those numbers are just a placeholder.” Dad dips his head to see Mom’s face as she reaches the last few steps. “Mom knows why I used one-four-three.”
    Theo and I know their little inside message. One, four, and three are the number of letters in the words “I love you.” Dad always signs notes to Mom like that.
    She navigates the last few steps deliberately, like she’s thinking about every single movement, not just trying to avoid the stacks of old newspapers.
You never know when you’ll want to find an article
, Dad would say.
    And then I notice what she’s holding.
    Architectural Digest
.
    “Anyway,” Dad adds, filling in the awkward silence. “I told you I’ll figure that out later. You know I hate details. I’m a big-picture kind of thinker.”
    Mom stands very still, looking at the mirror. Neither Dad nor Theo seem to notice that anything is wrong, but I do. I see that drawn look across her mouth, usually a sign she’s about to lose her temper. I see her eyes glisten, like she’s been crying again. And the magazine in her hand shakes. Once when she was shaking, I asked her why, and she said she had PMS.
    Maybe that’s why she was crying over that stupid article in Walmart. Maybe that’s why she’s looking at Dad like he’s The Biggest Loser, and I don’t mean the kind who’d love to own a mirror that helps you visualize a perfect body.
    “Well, perhaps you need to be a smaller-picture kind of thinker, Mel.”
    He gives her a quizzical look. “What’s up, honey?”
    “Why are you doing this?” Her voice has a funny hitch in it.
    Dad blows out a breath. “I know what we talked aboutlast night, Em, and I promise, I swear, I’m throwing everything out this weekend. Tomorrow. As soon as I—”
    “
This
, Mel. This …” She sweeps her empty hand toward the mirror. “This complete and utter waste of time.”
    “Mom!” Theo jumps up. “Don’t you want to see what you’d look like with Angelina Jolie’s lips?” God, he is so clueless.
    “Yeah, Em. Try it. I’m telling you, this is the big one.” Dad sounds pretty clueless, too. But on he goes. “And this isn’t just for fun! It has commercial potential. Everyone in this country