Every Saturday afternoon he would travel to the same health food store and purchase just enough groceries to last the week. He would prepare dinner and clean up the kitchen, just as he did every night. He would then read or watch television until it was time for bed. On Sunday’s he would attend Mass in the morning, have brunch with his family, tinker around the house and then prepare dinner. He would go to bed and the next morning his routine would begin once more. On holiday or during vacation there might be slight variations but for the most part, this was his routine. He never tired, never strayed, never wondered why or what if? For this was his life. Simple and comfortable, it was who he was at his most basic. His only fault, if one could call it a fault, was frugality. While the other partners at the firm drove luxury cars and dressed in Armani, he bought his suits straight from the Sears catalog and drove an economy car. His parents had not only instilled a sense of honor,. Soon, they were laughing, turning the act of making a mealinto a dance. It then struck me the quality they shared, it was Love.Love as if it was a liquid they bathed in, a pool they swam and splashedin. It was a warmth and light that radiated from both of them, spreadingto the whole room.Each also made a point to include me in their dance, creating a feelingof safety and security unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Icouldn't help but compare it to my own childhood, with its silences andstorms of rage, and found myself envying Allison.If I had had a home like this maybe . . . Soon, we were finisheddinner, and curled up on a couch watching TV. I felt safe in a wayunlike anything I had felt before. I found myself thinking that if Inever got back to my old life, this one wasn't a bad one.My parents helped me go to my room, and for the third time since I wasstuck in Allison's body I had a flash of her memory. I saw myself as alittle girl, dressed as a princess, having a.
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