Page 1 of Snowflakes and Ice Skates

A Christmas Offer

One

This was not me giving up. This was not forever. I was not a quitter. I was not a living statistic. I was here to plan my next move and then I’d be gone.

Right.

I’d been telling myself that for the past two hours. Returning to Roseville was not a permanent thing. Once I found a new job in Chicago, I’d be back.

My parents’ brick-and-column home was right in front of me. Waiting.

I just needed to pull into the circular drive and park.

This was not the end.

I gave up and parked in my old spot. I got out and hurried to the trunk to get out my two bags. I’d put most of my things in storage. A little motivation to get back to the city as soon as possible. The snow crunched beneath my feet all the way up to the front door.

This was it. I was home.

For now.

I let myself in and set the bags down. “Hello?”

There were sounds coming from somewhere within the house, but I couldn’t tell where.

“Mom? Dad?”

I walked through the foyer to the living room. It was empty. I looked at the kitchen, but it was empty too. Where were they? I wandered the halls until their voices got louder. I followed them to the second, more formal dining room.

“Hey guys.”

All activity in the room ceased.

“Harlow!” Mom dropped the ribbon she was holding and rushed to me. “I’m so glad you’re finally home.”

I hugged her back before being pulled into a hug by Dad. “Hey, sweetie. I’m so happy you’re back.”

I stepped away from them. “I’m happy to be home too, but this is only temporary, remember.”

Mom huffed. “I don’t understand why you think it’s such a terrible thing to live here.”

She knew my argument. I’d been reciting it since I was eighteen.

“Yeah, are we really that terrible to be around?” Dad was trying to look wounded but ended up laughing. He understood my reasons for wanting to be out on my own, but he still missed me. I was just glad I had at least one parent on my side.

“Where’s Steven?” I hadn’t seen my brother in over six months, since my graduation from Northwestern. When I came home for a week during the summer he’d been out of town for business. It was the longest we’d gone without seeing each other, which was extra ridiculous since we lived two hours apart.

“He was just out running an errand. He should be back any minute.” Mom smiled, but there was an extra twinkle in her eye. What was she up to?

“Let’s get your bags upstairs.” Dad ushered me out of the room and back down the hall. He picked up both bags and led the way up the stairs. “How did you like your internship? Marketing still as amazing as it was in school?”

I knew he was teasing. He didn’t understand why I loved marketing so much. I tried to explain how it allowed me to be creative and tell the story of the brand or product. It also yielded results I could see. I could see the sales I brought in or the traffic to a site. It was rewarding.

“Yes, Dad. I liked the internship, but I don’t think I want to work at an agency. I prefer working for and representing one company.”

He opened the door to my bedroom. The same one I’d had since I was born. “I’m glad you still enjoy it. If you love what you do you’ll never work a day in your life.”

I smiled. He’d told me that all the time when I was growing up. As a chemical engineering professor, he practiced what he preached. He’d occasionally consulted on private sector projects, but his passion was teaching.