by S. M. Bowles
“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 with.”
“Sounds stuffy,” my mom interjected.
“Not at all,” my dad quickly came to his defense. “He was very gentlemanly, though, and certainly said please, thank you and sir more often than was necessary,” my dad grinned. “As we were talking, trying to get to know one another, he asked if I were married, any children. So of course I told him all about the two of you. He listened so politely and seemed so genuinely interested that I must have rambled for nearly an hour. He never interrupted except to have me clarify a point here or there. Eventually I came to my senses and apologized prolifically. He just smiled and shook his head, “No need to apologize,” he said. “This is exactly what I was hoping for. You’ve told me more about yourself through your family than you would have if I had asked you more pointed questions.”
“I wasn’t sure what to say to that and while I hesitated wondering how to reply he reached inside his coat and pulled out the tickets. “I have a box,” he said, “at the Arts Center. I would really like it if you and your family would join me for the Nutcracker this weekend.” He was so earnest and sincere that I felt compelled to accept them. For some reason I just couldn’t say no.”
My father looked from me to my mother for some sort of confirmation that he had done the right thing by accepting the tickets. I had no hesitation about them and quickly joined my father’s appeal to make sure my mom agreed.
She broke down after a minute or two, “Of course you did the right thing. When will Elayna ever have another opportunity like this? A box even; it will be quite an experience for all of us.”
“Yes,” I did a little fist pump like I’d seen my dad do when he was trying to be funny about some silly little success or other.
We finished our dinner and talked about what we would need to do in order to be ready for the show. “There’s not much time to put together something to wear,” my mom regretfully said.
“I’m sure you’ll find something. And you, too,” my dad swiped my nose with the tip of his finger. “You can shop for yourself while Elayna’s in school tomorrow and when she gets out you can take her. Make it a two-step process so you’re not trying to do everything at once.”
My mom tilted her head reflectively, “That’s a good idea. Do you need me to pick anything up for you?” She asked.
“Nope, I’m good,” he assured her.
After dinner we all sat together in the living room and watched TV. There wasn’t much on of any interest to me at that time of night so I sipped my hot chocolate and cuddled with my dad while he flipped through the channels. After a while my mom called out the time and I knew I needed to get ready for bed. I peeled myself off my dad’s lap and headed to my bathroom to brush my teeth.
When I was finished with my nighttime routine I called to my parents to let them know that I was ready to be tucked in. My mom came and took a storybook from my shelf. “Daddy dozed off, just us girls tonight.” She read the book to me then tucked me in and kissed me goodnight. After all the outdoor activity I was exhausted and fell right to sleep.
The next day dragged by. I had never really cared much for shopping but the idea of going to see the ballet and getting dressed up had been all I could think about that day. By the time my mom picked me up from school I had worked myself up into a bit of a panic that there wouldn’t be enough time to find a dress or I just wouldn’t find one that I liked. Part of me felt like everyone else went to the mall that day and bought all the good dresses before I could have a chance.
Once we were finally there, though, I began to relax while my mom led me to one of the department stores. Against my suspicions there were not that many people shopping and the racks were full of holiday dresses. The saleslady for my department was extra attentive since there was no one else to wait on and found dozens of dresses for me to try. I was not yet familiar with the concept of the one but I had heard my mother use the expression before. After about ten dresses my mother pulled one over my head and I suddenly realized exactly what it meant.
The tag said that its color was eggplant, which caused me to frown but it was definitely an appropriate description. The dress was an odd color between black and purple and fell in soft pleats to just above my ankles. There was a wide black band that wrapped around the dress just above my waist. It had a hint of soft, fluttery sleeves that brushed my shoulders and it was made of taffeta so it rustled as I moved. There was a bit of a shimmer to it as well and I loved the way it looked on me. I could tell by the expressions on my mother and the saleslady that I had found just the right dress.
My mother made our purchase and then we swung into the shoe store where we picked out some shiny, black flats to go with my dress. I was so relieved and couldn’t help thinking that Saturday would be the best night of my life.
“I’m so excited!” I told my mother. “I can’t wait to wear my dress and to see the ballet and sit in the box!”
She smiled at me in the mirror as we drove home. “You should leave it in the bag so it won’t get dirty. Make sure you hang it in your closet when we get home, too, so it won’t get wrinkled.”
“I will.”
When the weekend finally rolled around I was beside myself with the anticipation of going to the theater. Halfway through the afternoon my mom took a long bath and spent an hour or two fixing her hair and make-up. Before she got dressed and put her finishing touches on she helped me get ready. She zipped me into my dress and asked me if I would like her to fix my hair.
I mostly wore my hair down but it was such a special occasion that I felt I had to agree to have he
r arrange it in some way. She brushed it out and put a deep part to the side in it. Afterwards she smoothed it all into a tight ponytail that she bound back with a heavy tie. Then she twisted my hair around and around the tie until it formed a nice bun. She carefully pinned the bun into place and fetched her jewelry box. She rummaged through the various pieces and found a few rhinestone pins that she placed in my hair to accentuate it here and there. When she was done she took me to her bedroom and showed me how I looked in her big vanity mirror.
“You look so pretty,” she laid her hand on my shoulder and smiled at my reflection in the mirror.
“Thank you,” I said, “I really like my hair.”
I was not used to having my hair pulled back from my face, it seemed so different, so grown-up. I smiled at myself and was sure my mother was right and that I did look very pretty that night.
My mother shooed me out of the bedroom because it was time for her to put her dress on and for my dad to get ready. He took a quick shower and put on his best suit. Just as he finished knotting his tie the buzzer rang. Both he and my mother stepped from their bedroom.
My mother was wearing a long, red dress with thin straps over her shoulders instead of sleeves. She paired it with some black heels and a long, black scarf that she wore draped around her elbows. To me my mother always looked pretty but that night I thought she looked absolutely beautiful. I gave her a huge smile to let her know how nice I thought she looked.
“Hmm,” she said, “I wonder who that could be.”
My father pushed the button and spoke into the intercom, “Yes?”
“Your driver for the Arts Center, sir.”
“Driver?” He looked from me to my mother confusedly.
He spoke into the intercom again, “We didn’t call for a driver.”
“No sir, Mr. Donovan sent his car. He said you were meeting him at the ballet tonight.”
He raised his eyebrows in complete surprise. “Very well, um, I guess we will be right down.” He turned to my mother, “How about that then?” My dad was clearly pleased with the idea of not having to drive.
My mother was standing in the hallway, “Well, this will be quite a night, won’t it?”
There seemed little alternative so we gathered our coats and the other belongings we would need to take and my dad ushered us out and down to the front door. There was a long, black car, “a limousine,” I thought to myself, parked at the curb. The driver was standing beside the passenger door which he opened with a little flourish. He took my mother’s hand as she approached and helped her in. Then he smiled down at me, “Mr. Donovan’s most anticipated guest; you must be Elayna.”
“Yes, sir,” I beamed as he helped me in. I was flushed from head to toe; thrilled with all my childish notions about the upcoming experience.
My dad slid in and sat down beside my mother. The driver closed the door and took his seat at the wheel. He slowly pulled away from our building and we began our drive into the city.
The driver didn’t talk much and my mom and dad seemed a little overwhelmed by the touch of extravagance so it was a very quiet ride. I spent most of the time looking out the window; watching the cars that passed us until they were out of view or glancing up at the streetlights as they cast their glow on us at steady intervals along our route. My mind began to wander and I found myself wondering about Mr. Donovan and why he was being so nice to us. I must have had a curious expression because at one point my dad nudged me and asked what I was thinking about. “I guess I was thinking about Mr. Donovan and wondering what he’ll be like.”
“Oh, you’ll like him, I’m sure. He’s not at all what you would expect.”
I waited for him to tell me more but my dad turned to my mom instead and started talking over whether or not we should try and get a bite to eat in the city afterwards.
Several minutes later we arrived at the Arts Center. There was a line of limos and groups of people exiting from them at the front of the building. We slowly edged our way towards the top of the arrival line and as we reached the main entryway our driver hopped out and delivered us from the back seat. He let us know that he would meet us back there once the show was over.
“Enjoy the ballet,” the driver smiled then quickly turned and hurried away.
I grasped my father’s hand and my mother took his arm on the other side and we stepped up to the short flight of stairs that led into the Arts Center. Once we were through the main doorway we stepped into a hall that looked as though it could have been a palace throne room. It was brightly lit by chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The floor was tiled and there were pillars lining each side of the room and entry ways to the left and right. Every nook and cranny of the entrance hall looked to be carved from marble or stone or wood. Everything seemed to catch my eye all at once and I couldn’t get over the magnificence of it all.
My father led the way and after he displayed our tickets we were directed to a stairway off to our left. At the top of the stairway we headed left again and down a short little stair to the first box on our tier. There was no one there except for us. My father suggested a seat to me, “I think you will get the best view from here. Hand me your coat sweetie.”
I shrugged out of my jacket and my dad hung it on one of the little hooks protruding from the wall. I took the seat he suggested and looked over the audience and the stage. It was darker there than in the hallway but as my eyes adjusted I could make out the people nearest us and further up. As I looked toward the stage I noticed the pit area where the musicians were tuning up their various instruments and I watched them all excitedly. The entire scene was just mesmerizing to me; everyone in the audience was dressed so nicely, the orchestra, the ushers guiding people to their seats, the underlying hum of hundreds of conversations, I couldn’t help smiling as I took it all in.
I felt my face glowing with happiness as my father rested his hand on my shoulder, “Elayna, Mr. Donovan is here.”
I spun about and there indeed was Mr. Donovan. I nearly gasped as a series of memories flooded my mind. I felt his voice in my head and a familiar sense of connectedness, “Hello, Elayna,” it was almost teasing. My father was looking at me curiously after he saw the spark of recognition that crossed my face.
“Elayna, are you alright?” My father looked concerned.
Michael bent down and said loud enough for my mother and father both to hear, “You are the little girl from the mall aren’t you, the one by the fountain?”
My mother suddenly recollected the moment and stepped up, “Oh, yes, Mr. Donovan, was that you? It was, wasn’t it! It must have been what 2 years ago? I had nearly forgotten that day and certainly never expected to see you again,” she hastily told my father the story and thanked Mr. Donovan again for his intervention.
“Not quite 2 years but close,” Michael held his hand out to me, “It’s very nice to see you again Elayna. I love your dress. You look very pretty tonight,” he was obviously enjoying the success of his surprise.
I felt a thrilling little shock as I took his hand, “It is very nice to meet you Mr. Donovan.”
“Please, call me Michael,” he slowly rose and turned to my father. “It’s good to see you again Mr. Davis and a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Davis,” he took my mother’s hand.
“Mr. Donovan, I can’t thank you enough for the tickets, the car, it’s very kind of you to put yourself out like this.”
“It was no trouble at all. I got your address from your office,” he looked to my father, “I hope you don’t mind. I thought the car would be a fun surprise for your little girl,” Michael glanced over my dad’s shoulder and smiled at me. “It’s a shame, actually, I have this box for the season and I have only used it once or twice. So really it is more of a kindness that you are joining me; I might not have come at all if you hadn’t accepted.”
I was dazed as I stood there and watched Michael, my father and mother all speaking quietly together while waiting for the show to begin. I wished it were just the two of us
, so I wouldn’t have to be so careful and could show how happy and excited I was to be there with him. When it was nearly time for the show to start the lights flashed and I felt thankful for the distraction as everyone hurried to their seats.
Just as I was about to sit down, though, I noticed someone else stepping into Michael’s box. She was a pretty woman about Michael’s age with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was tall and sophisticated looking and quite breathless it seemed from trying to get to the show on time.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she threw her arms around Michael and kissed him squarely on the lips. He smiled somewhat awkwardly, took the woman’s elbow and excused himself from my parents as I looked on. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me but suddenly my heart was pounding and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. My insides felt like they were sloshing about as I watched the two of them talk and I was having trouble focusing my thoughts.
It only took a moment for Michael to say whatever he needed to say then he rejoined my parents and offered them a quick introduction. I didn’t catch the lady’s name because the throbbing in my ears was the only thing I could hear as I examined the group of adults before me.
It never occurred to me that Michael would have a date and I was absolutely devastated. I had the horrible realization that Michael was a grown-up and I was just a little girl. I was sure Michael noticed that something was wrong as I slowly turned away and took my seat.
“Are you alright?” I felt his concern in my mind.
I couldn’t tell him what was wrong after I had been forced into understanding. I tried to hide my disappointment as I settled into my seat. There was a brief moment when I felt like he was giving me a hug and some of my tension seemed to slip away. I watched as the first of the dancers took the stage and once the story began to unfold everything else was forgotten.
I quickly became enthralled with the acrobatic and cinematic display. I couldn’t stop smiling as I enjoyed the show. It seemed truly magical, just as I’d hoped. The sets, the music, the ballerinas and their partners; I immediately fell in love with the imagery and nearly forget the outside world for the moment. When the time came for intermission I realized that I had been sitting like a statue through the first few acts and my arms and legs were stiff from being in so rigid a position for so long. I stretched and glanced at my mom and dad. They looked as though they were certainly enjoying the ballet as well.
