Anastasia's Chosen Career Read Free

project to work on. So this will give me a chance to do the research."
    "Research?" her father asked, looking up from his paper with interest. "For school?" There was nothing her father liked more than the thought of one of his children doing research for school.
    Mrs. Krupnik looked at her watch again. She got up and went to get Sam's winter jacket, which was hanging on a hook by the back door. "Sam," she said, "you now have about three minutes until your ride comes."
    Sam aimed his fork into the top of his sugar-and-egg mountain, pried off a large forkful, and put it into his mouth. He made a terrible face. "I hate my eggs," he said.
    Mrs. Krupnik sighed. "Here, Sam," she said. She handed him the half slice of toast she had left. "Eat this." She helped Sam into his jacket, pulled a woolen hat down over his curls, and thrust his mittens into his pockets. "There's Mrs. Harrington now, beeping her horn. Goodbye. See you at lunch." She closed the back door behind Sam and they all watched from the window as he climbed into the back seat of the nursery school car.
    "Now
I
only have ten minutes before I have to leave," Anastasia said. "Please, Mom. Please, Dad. I really want to do this. And I have to make the phone call this afternoon."
    "Anastasia, it is
so
much money," said her mother. "Your dad and I were hoping that after your summer job, after you put all that money in the bank, you would develop some sense of financial responsibility—you know, looking ahead to the future."
    Anastasia tried to be patient. "Mom, I
told
you that this would be in preparation for a career. It would be
educational.
"
    "Well," said Mrs. Krupnik. "Myron, what do you think?"
    "I like the idea of school research," Dr. Krupnik said. "I wish
my
students would do research during vacations. What kind of research would you be doing?"
    "My Chosen Career," Anastasia reminded him.
    Her father's face brightened. "That's right," he said. "I forgot that you had that assignment. You were thinking about Bookstore Owner. I think that's a terrific idea."
    "Actually," Anastasia told her father, "I've kind of changed my mind about Bookstore Owner. Now, since I want to take this course, I'm thinking more along the lines of—"
    But her father was already reaching for the telephone book. "Let me check the address," he said. "There's a wonderful little bookstore on Beacon Hill, and I met the owner when my last book of poetry came out. She had a wine-and-cheese party there at the store, and an autographing."
    "Dad," Anastasia said, "I've been thinking that—"
    "Only three people actually bought the book," he muttered. "Forty-seven people came and forty-seven people drank wine and ate cheese, but only three bought the book. Still, she was a nice woman."
    "Myron," Mrs. Krupnik said, "she could interview a bookstore owner right here in town. She doesn't have to go all the way into the city for that."
    "Here it is," Dr. Krupnik said, with his finger on one of the yellow pages. "Mount Vernon Street. That's a good safe part of the city, if she goes in the daytime."
    "Myron," said Mrs. Krupnik again. "She could go right down the street. There's a Waldenbooks right down the street."
    "Mom," Anastasia pointed out, "there are a million Waldenbooks all over the country. Mr. Walden probably lives in New York or something. And what I need is a bookstore owner, if I'm going to do Bookstore Owner for My Chosen Career."
    "Oh," said Mrs. Krupnik. "You're right."
    "Anyway," Anastasia went on, "it's really the
other
thing that I want to do in Boston. It would be
so
self-improving," Anastasia exclaimed. "And I
need
self-improvement. Even if I were going to be a bookstore owner, I would need self-improvement."
    Dr. Krupnik was dialing. "I hope she remembers me," he said. "Do you think a bookstore owner remembers someone whose book sold only three copies?"
    But the bookstore owner did. She remembered him, and she said that she would be willing to be interviewed by Anastasia.
    "At noon,"