Sanctity by S. M. Bowles Read Free Book Online Page B

both of us to
slide down at the same time so we took turns.  I went first
and while I pulled my sled behind me and started my trek back up
Erica would come racing down.  We formed a kind of circuit,
down, back up, down again, repeat.  My mom even took a trip or
two.  Eventually we wore ourselves out with process and we
plopped down to take a little break.  It was starting to get
dark and I was feeling like I might have had enough.  Besides,
I was wet from all the snow and starting to feel cold and
uncomfortable as well.
    Erica and I decided that it was time to head
back, my mom couldn’t have agreed more and she helped both of us
with our sleds.  I chattered with Erica the short walk back to
her building.  She rang her buzzer and we waited until she was
safely inside before my mother and I made our way back to our own
building.  I breathed a sigh of relief as we stepped out of
the cold and couldn’t wait to get out of my snowy, damp
clothes.
    Once we were inside the apartment and all my
layers were peeled off my mom suggested that I take my shower to
help me warm up before dinner.  She promised a hot cocoa, as
an after dinner treat and sent me on my way.  She gathered up
all my wet clothes and stuffed them into the washer so all the
debris that they had collected wouldn’t make any more of a
mess.
    My dad came home just as I
finished getting dressed.  “Early bath?” he asked me.
    “We went sledding.”
    “I see,” he nodded, “did you have fun?”
    “Lots,” I twisted my hair into a towel so it
wouldn’t drip all over the dining room while we ate.
    “Good, dinner’s ready, hurry on out,
OK?”
    My parents were just bringing the things
from the kitchen when I got to the table so I took my seat and
waited while they arranged our dinner.  My dad was looking
especially happy that night and smiled at me as he sat down, “I
have a surprise," he said.  He placed an envelope on the table
and told me to open it.
    “What is it?” I asked.
    “Open it and find out, silly!”
    I eagerly tore open the envelope and pulled
out three tickets.  I turned them over to find out what they
were for.
    “The Nutcracker!!” I exclaimed.
    “Yep,” my father was looking at me with a
proud grin.
    “Where did you get those?” My mom asked
suspiciously.
    We were not a poor family but three theater
tickets were definitely not something we would splurge on.  I
had always wanted to go to the Nutcracker.  I was not
necessarily interested in the ballet but the Nutcracker was
supposed to be so much more than that, or so I had heard. 
Some of my friends had been and talked about how wonderful it would
be to have a magical night like Clara’s; to be treated like a
princess and to have a real live prince rescue you from the
clutches of the Rat King.
    He began to explain to my mother that a new
client his firm hoped to pick-up had come by as he was getting
ready to leave the office for the day.  My father worked as a
financial analyst.  He made reports that were used to help
predict whether or not a certain stock or fund would do well. 
Based on his information people were supposed to get a better idea
of how they should invest their money.
    “Anyway, his name is Michael Donovan,” my
dad continued his explanation, “and I really don’t know much about
him other than that he is shopping around for someone new to manage
his accounts.  I’ve heard that he likes to invest somewhat
aggressively and doesn’t mind a little risk now and then. 
When we met he mentioned that he would like to be a little more
hands-on when directing where his money would go as well.  He
didn’t say much about himself other than that but he did talk about
his frustration with his current firm since they were not being as
receptive to his input as he would have liked.  He apologized
for coming so late then asked if I could stay a minute; joked that
he would like to have a personal affirmation of the people he hoped
to be working