The Chicken Sisters - K.J. Dell'Antonia Page 0,133

crown, for whatever that’s worth, and in terms of promotion it’s probably worth quite a bit. I know you disagree on who’s going to win—”

“Frannie’s,” said Amanda, at the same moment Mae said, “Mimi’s.”

But they were just kidding now, and Amanda reached her hand out for a high five from her sister. Nancy might not go for this, or she might. But Mae was right—it was a good idea, and if Nancy didn’t like it, well, maybe she wasn’t as unhappy running Frannie’s as she said. Maybe everything was, one way or another, going to be okay.

“Right,” said Kenneth. “So, once one of you actually wins, it’s different. Then it’s somebody on somebody else’s coattails.”

“It’s a classic negotiation scenario,” said Jay. “You have to decide what to do before they tell you who won, because otherwise, everything changes. It’s like the moment before somebody develops the bomb. The last chance to do something before the whole power differential shifts.”

“That’s pretty dramatic,” said Nancy. “I think we could do this even after we know who wins.”

“You think you could,” said Jay. “But you won’t.”

“If Frannie’s wins, Mom will think you’re trying to crush Mimi’s,” said Mae. “She already has kind of a thing about that. And if Mimi’s wins—well—I don’t know what you’ll think, but don’t you think you might feel different?” She grinned at Amanda. “You know how this works,” she said. “‘The only winning move is’—”

“‘Not to play,’” Amanda, Kenneth, and Jay all capped her quote in unison.

“This is our big chance,” Mae said. “Plus, I think it would really piss Sabrina off.”

“I’m not putting my family business into a partnership just to piss off Sabrina,” Nancy protested, but she was smiling.

“And to let all of us build lives we want, instead of just kind of accepting our lots,” said Mae. “It really could work, Nancy. If we each had a defined role, and if we used the hundred thousand dollars—together—to rebrand and promote ourselves based on the Food Wars win—which, no matter who it is, is a win for everyone’s chicken, right?—we’d be the only Food Wars feud to ever end in a peace treaty.”

“You could build a good story out of that,” said Kenneth. “Between that and the history, Mimi’s and Frannie’s could become real destinations, at least in the Midwest.”

“I believe the phrase you’re looking for is ‘authentic American icons,’” said Mae.

Nancy turned to Amanda, then stopped and chuckled. “I don’t even have to ask you what you think, do I?”

“It does seem like a good idea to me,” said Amanda, suddenly aware that she was smiling. “But it’s not just that. I’m happy because—we’re all here, talking about it. Not fighting. It feels good for a change. Maybe I shouldn’t get a vote, though, because I’m kind of already there, in between.”

“You get a vote,” said Nancy. “I suppose we could always undo it, if it doesn’t work. Who runs the business part of it?”

“Jay,” said Mae. “That’s the other part of my idea. He’s been a restaurant consultant for chains and big hotels for years, and he hates it. He could wind that up—come here for a while—if he wanted to.” She glanced at Jay while she was speaking, and then looked out into the distance, avoiding everyone’s eyes. Amanda could see her sister’s hands clenched behind her, fingers dancing in an anxious, fidgety motion. This was what she hadn’t said, back in Mimi’s. The part of moving home Mae hadn’t talked about.

An hour ago, Amanda wouldn’t have put a dollar or a doughnut on the idea of Jay moving to Merinac. But watching him with Kenneth, seeing his weird ease with this whole situation—she didn’t know what to think.

“Actually, I quit last week,” said Jay.

Mae snapped her gaze away from whatever she was pretending to study in the distance and stared at Jay. She didn’t know, Amanda realized. Her sister’s eyes narrowed, and for a minute Amanda thought Mae was going to stand up and resume the fight they’d been having earlier, this time with Jay as her opponent. Instead, Mae blinked a few times, quickly. “Oh,” she said, and there was a long, tense pause, Kenneth on the edge of the chair behind Jay as if he didn’t know whether to back him up or return to the kitchen. “You didn’t tell me,” Mae finally finished.

“You’ve had plenty of surprises for me,” Jay said evenly. “You knew I wanted to quit. You just told everyone I hated it, which I did, or