Read Online The Advocate (The Advocate Series) by Teresa Burrell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Teresa Burrell
Tags: Legal Suspense
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seemed to bloom all year long. Lost in the sea of color, she didn’t notice Bob until he took a seat across from her.
“Good morning, Mr. Clark. I was just admiring the flowers. They seem particularly bright this morning,” Sabre said in her best Katherine Hepburn voice. “Did you get Corey off to school okay?”
“Sure did.” Bob took a sip of the coffee. He tipped his cup slightly in her direction, “Thanks,” he said. She smiled and nodded. Bob continued on his favorite subject, his son. “Corey really enjoys the band. He’s decided he wants to play the saxophone. This is the first thing that has held his interest for any length of time, so I try to encourage him. He has already decided what sax he wants, a Yamaha Professional, but he’s not getting it. At least not right now. After he has played for a year, if he’s still interested and practicing, we’ll get him a good sax, maybe even the Yamaha.”
Ahh . . . the sax. Sabre slipped back in time to her childhood and her first encounter with Victor Spanoli, her little saxophone-playing friend, the memory of their meeting as vivid to her as the flowers in Clara’s garden.
It was Sabre’s sixth birthday. After the gifts had been opened, she and her twin cousins carried them to her room to play with her new toys. They had just started playing a game of “Chutes and Ladders” when Ron burst into the room. “Sabre, come see. We have new neighbors.”
The children ran to the porch to see who was taking the place of “Old Man Meridian,” the grumpy old goose who yelled at them every time they got close to his yard. They stood out front and watched the new family unload the truck taking up their entire driveway. Sabre climbed up on the edge of the white wooden porch and stretched her neck to see around her brother. “Do they have kids?”
“Yeah, there’s an older girl and a little boy, about your age, a mother and father and a dog,” Ron replied, as if he already knew them. “And they’re Italian.” Ron repeated something he had heard his mother say.
“What’s an Italian?”
“Mom met the parents the other day. She said their names are Lois and Salvatore Spanoli. They just moved here from New York,” Ron said, ignoring her question.
“What’s an Italian?” Sabre asked again.
Ron, unsure himself, explained, “It means they eat spaghetti and pizza.”
“We eat spaghetti and pizza. Are we Italian?”
“No, dopey, we’re Catholic!” Ron pointed toward the truck and a golden retriever. “Look, there’s the boy. And look at that great dog! I wish we had a dog.”
They watched the new neighbors for a while, but soon got bored with them going in and out of the house carrying boxes. All four of them marched to the backyard to re-join the party just in time to catch Aunt Sallie drag her long, gray pigtail through the punch bowl. The party continued throughout the day and into the evening. The twins and their parents even stayed the night to avoid the long drive back to Bakersfield. Sabre’s party was perfect, and she had lots of toys and some new clothes to wear to school.
On Monday morning, as Sabre skipped off to school, she felt special in her new pink blouse and Winnie the Pooh overalls. She spent the day telling her classmates about her party. At 2:25 p.m., just like every other day, Ron waited outside her classroom. He walked her home, dropped her at the front door, then ran off to play with his friends.
Sabre took her jump rope and went out in the front yard to try and see the new neighbors. She peeked into their yard as she skipped around the driveway. When she didn’t see anything, she sat on the front porch and played with her jacks, in case anyone came out.
She spotted the skinny boy with black, wavy hair as he came out of his front door carrying something shiny. It threw off flashes of bright light as the sun hit it. He looked straight at her, but just as she stood up to go say “hello” he disappeared into his
“Good morning, Mr. Clark. I was just admiring the flowers. They seem particularly bright this morning,” Sabre said in her best Katherine Hepburn voice. “Did you get Corey off to school okay?”
“Sure did.” Bob took a sip of the coffee. He tipped his cup slightly in her direction, “Thanks,” he said. She smiled and nodded. Bob continued on his favorite subject, his son. “Corey really enjoys the band. He’s decided he wants to play the saxophone. This is the first thing that has held his interest for any length of time, so I try to encourage him. He has already decided what sax he wants, a Yamaha Professional, but he’s not getting it. At least not right now. After he has played for a year, if he’s still interested and practicing, we’ll get him a good sax, maybe even the Yamaha.”
Ahh . . . the sax. Sabre slipped back in time to her childhood and her first encounter with Victor Spanoli, her little saxophone-playing friend, the memory of their meeting as vivid to her as the flowers in Clara’s garden.
It was Sabre’s sixth birthday. After the gifts had been opened, she and her twin cousins carried them to her room to play with her new toys. They had just started playing a game of “Chutes and Ladders” when Ron burst into the room. “Sabre, come see. We have new neighbors.”
The children ran to the porch to see who was taking the place of “Old Man Meridian,” the grumpy old goose who yelled at them every time they got close to his yard. They stood out front and watched the new family unload the truck taking up their entire driveway. Sabre climbed up on the edge of the white wooden porch and stretched her neck to see around her brother. “Do they have kids?”
“Yeah, there’s an older girl and a little boy, about your age, a mother and father and a dog,” Ron replied, as if he already knew them. “And they’re Italian.” Ron repeated something he had heard his mother say.
“What’s an Italian?”
“Mom met the parents the other day. She said their names are Lois and Salvatore Spanoli. They just moved here from New York,” Ron said, ignoring her question.
“What’s an Italian?” Sabre asked again.
Ron, unsure himself, explained, “It means they eat spaghetti and pizza.”
“We eat spaghetti and pizza. Are we Italian?”
“No, dopey, we’re Catholic!” Ron pointed toward the truck and a golden retriever. “Look, there’s the boy. And look at that great dog! I wish we had a dog.”
They watched the new neighbors for a while, but soon got bored with them going in and out of the house carrying boxes. All four of them marched to the backyard to re-join the party just in time to catch Aunt Sallie drag her long, gray pigtail through the punch bowl. The party continued throughout the day and into the evening. The twins and their parents even stayed the night to avoid the long drive back to Bakersfield. Sabre’s party was perfect, and she had lots of toys and some new clothes to wear to school.
On Monday morning, as Sabre skipped off to school, she felt special in her new pink blouse and Winnie the Pooh overalls. She spent the day telling her classmates about her party. At 2:25 p.m., just like every other day, Ron waited outside her classroom. He walked her home, dropped her at the front door, then ran off to play with his friends.
Sabre took her jump rope and went out in the front yard to try and see the new neighbors. She peeked into their yard as she skipped around the driveway. When she didn’t see anything, she sat on the front porch and played with her jacks, in case anyone came out.
She spotted the skinny boy with black, wavy hair as he came out of his front door carrying something shiny. It threw off flashes of bright light as the sun hit it. He looked straight at her, but just as she stood up to go say “hello” he disappeared into his
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