Page 2 of Polar Prank
Grandma’s a spry hen, but I could do a lot of good with the money she’s allotted for my future. I have dreams outside of the four brick walls of my business.
I’m just not sure exactly what those dreams are.
I can hear her tapping her red nails on her own wood desk in her office at her home in the Blue Ridge Mountains waiting for me to respond.
“Grandma, this isn’t fair,” I sigh, my fingers drumming against the desk. A family trait, I guess. “I can’t just drop everything because it’s Christmas.”
“Exactly,” she counters, her tone softens but still firm. “That’s just the point. This isn't just about festivities, Brinker, it’s about finding what’s truly important. It’s about making something important in your life that doesn’t including burying yourself in numbers, shares of stock, and spreadsheets. There’s more to life and I want you to find whatever it is that makes you happy.Reallyhappy, not just content. There’s a difference. You can be content with work and your career, but happiness is something that settles into your soul, my grandson. Myonlygrandson.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, resolute yet crackling with frustration. The guilt meter just hit extreme.
She’s —probably— right, in some twisted sense. But I feel trapped, locked in my own self-made prison of busyness and ambition. The will lingers in my mind as a strange kind of pressure. I can’t lose what she’s trying to pass on. Part of me knows it holds something dear to her and to the legacy of our family. It’s like buried treasure just waiting to be admired and put to good use.
“Will you come home?” she presses gently now, the ultimatum hanging between us like a fragile ornament on a tree, ready to shatter at the slightest tremor.
“I…” I hesitate, my palms a little sweaty.
“I’ll give you until the twenty-third,” she says. “You better hope that spirit finds you before then.”
The screen blinks and the call ends, leaving me in silence, staring at the chaotic numbers scattered across my computer screen.
What does holiday spirit even look like?
It’s an alien concept to me.
I run a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly. Perhaps I’m forced to take the plunge into this festive whirlpool, whether I want to or not. I stand and glance out at the city again, the festive lights seeming like mocking stars, illuminating a world I’ve detached myself from.
“Just find it,” I mutter to myself, a faint sense of dread settling deep in my gut. I turn back around and grip the edge of my desk.
Just when did I become the Grinch that I am? It wasn’t that long ago, was it? Why did I become this way is probably the better question?
That one’s awfully complicated and probably best left to the therapists office.
I slam my computer shut and pull my coat out of the closet.
I’m not going to fucking find the spirit of anything in here.
Just find it—her words ring in my head.
Like it’s a missing item or that one kitchen tool that’s missing from its place in the drawer.
It’s not a possession. It’s a feeling and I don’t deal well with those.
That’s definitely hereditary.
But if anyone can do it, I can.
Holiday spirit… here I come.
2
ICLYN
I steponto our floor of the multi-floor high rise and the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee greets me, but it’s the soft jingling of Christmas bells that truly makes my heart skip a beat. It’s December first, and I can feel the excitement crackling in the air like static. I beam at my colleagues as they shuffle into the elevator, their expressions a mixture of Thursday morning lethargy and surprise at the burst of festive decorations that I’ve orchestrated overnight.
Every corner of our little office is transformed. Garland carpets the door frames like a glittery welcome mat, and paper snowflakes cascade from the ceiling tiles above us like icy confetti. I can’t help but clap my hands together, a giddy smile stretching across my face. Each year, I make it my mission to bring a spark of joy to the workplace, but for some reason, this year feels extra special.
After putting away my things, I join the morning meeting in the middle of the room. After the boring, yada-yada of banking and investment business, I’m up.
