Peggy smiled, remembering the endless discussions that had gone on in her own family. “Fathers are funny that way,” she observed.
Amy threw her a trapped look. “You don’t have any idea! He’s always thought my wanting to be an actress was silly. What’s he going to say now?”
An idea began working in Peggy’s mind. Grinning mischievously, she scrambled to her feet and held out her hands. “Don’t tell me,” she begged. “Let me guess.” Clasping her hands firmly behind her back, Peggy started to pace back and forth. Her usually cheerful face was lined with a severe scowl.
Amy burst into laughter at the sight and collapsed back on top of her bed. “Oh, Peggy! Daddy doesn’t look like that at all. He’s really much nicer.”
Peggy raised a hand threateningly. “Quiet!” she thundered in her best imitation of a man’s voice.
Amy subsided obediently. “Yes, sir,” she said meekly.
Peggy cleared her throat and rumbled ahead. “This is disgraceful,” she intoned. “Here my daughter has spent a year in New York. She’s gone to dramatic school and she’s been in summer stock. What does she have to show for it, eh? I ask you.” Peggy gave a fierce tug on an imaginary mustache. “One year of solid work and the best she can do is to play the part of a hand on a television commercial!” Peggy stomped down to the far end of the room. “A hand!” She snorted. “If it’s taken her a year to get her hand on a television show, how long d’you suppose it’ll take to get the rest of her on? Eh? I ask you!”
Peggy wanted to continue, but Amy was laughing too hard. “You’re almost right.” Amy gasped between giggles. “Only he’d never come right out and say it like that.”
“Then why don’t you do it yourself?” Peggy cried gaily.
“Me?” Amy seemed astonished by the idea.