Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
I hate the word “forbid”. Perhaps it’s due from hearing my grandfather say it so much as I grew up. I hate the word, yet I hear it coming out of my mouth the moment Kinsey and I are back in our rooms to pack in preparation for a hasty departure immediately after dinner. I made it clear she was not to use the word “uncle” and to use the word “sir”. Knowing my grandfather’s tactics, champagne was next on the list. She was not to have more than one glass. I don’t remember how many items I continued on about until the disheartened expression on her face brought me to a halt.
With a hug I apologized for, once again, being an Over Zealous Protector of the Universe, which produced a smile. However, my gut is telling me this is exactly who I need to be until we are on the train heading back home.
All agreed the steaks were undeniably the best.
“Think these were idly grazing on Lancer land not so long ago, Scotty?” Harlan winked at his grandson while he carved off another piece of beef.
Scott looked down at his plate as his thoughts turned to Sawyer and was thankful Kinsey had ordered lobster.
Harlan reached into the ice bucket. “Kinsey, your glass is empty. Grant me the honor of pouring you another and Scott, not one word from you. I refuse to let this lovely young woman dine on this delicious meal without a fine glass of the bubbly to compliment the experience.”
Young woman. His grandfather was seamlessly inserting the phrase into his conversations with the intended purpose of making Kinsey feel all grown-up. Scott, on the other hand, knew he said young lady, no doubt too often, when his cousin needed a bit of dressing-down to assist in an attitude adjustment. Kinsey’s smiles and giggles were proving what an impact one word could make. His little cousin was drinking in Harlan’s compliments faster than she was sipping on her second glass of champagne. Well, she’ll sleep soundly on the train tonight.
As desserts were served the stories turned to the shenanigans on the ranch since Kinsey’s arrival. Finally relaxing, Scott insisted on sharing his own rendition of pulling his cousin out of the mud hole. Other dinner guests smiled as the contagious laughter worked its way across the room from the corner table. “What a lovely family.” commented one woman to her husband.
Scott’s pocket watch indicated time was drawing near for final goodbyes. “Kinsey and I must make our way to the train station. Grandfather, we want to thank you for a delightful meal and conversation.”
Ignoring his grandson, Harlan addressed the younger cousin. “My dear, I’m sure you need to finish packing. Signaling the waiter for two snifters, he continued. “Please excuse us while I share a brandy with my grandson.”
Clearing his throat as he rose from his chair, Scott pressed on. “Sir, thank you, but I must decline.”
“It’s not a request, grandson.”
“I understand but…”
“I don't believe you do. Sharing a brandy will benefit all involved. Now, sit down, Scott.”
The old man’s gaze shifted back to Kinsey. “Now, excuse us, my dear. And please note I find repeating myself rather annoying.”
Reclaiming his seat, Scott nodded to his cousin to comply with his grandfather’s directive.
Successfully delivering one dagger look that hit Harlan Garrett right between the eyes, Kinsey silently excused herself.
“It appears her manners are fleeting.”
It was Scott’s turn to ignore his grandfather’s comment by pulling out his timepiece and placing it on the table. “Five minutes, Sir, and then we are done.”
A brandy snifter was set in front of each of the gentlemen by a waiter who quickly excused himself.
“Scott, I wanted sometime alone with you to discuss my brother’s will.”
Harlan Garrett watched his grandson admire the amber color of the liquid in his glass waiting for a response.
“Scott?”
“Four minutes and thirty seconds.”
“I’m certain you’re aware that Fletcher made recent revisions to his will before his untimely death.”
Harlan’s grandson held his snifter to the light and further inspected the brandy.
“Scott.”
“Three minutes and fifty-five seconds.”
“Scott, your childishness is disappointing.”
Scott could no longer hide his frustration. “Not nearly as disappointing as the confirmation that the evening was about Fletcher’s money and nothing else. Three minutes and thirty-two seconds.”
“Scotty, it doesn’t need to be like this. I simply want to confer with you my thoughts regarding Kinsey and her future. Is it wrong for me to take an interest in my brother’s grandchild now that he is gone?”
“And what are your thoughts, Sir?”
“Well, I would like to discuss the revisions Fletcher felt the need to make two months ago. Of course, I agree with the one extending Kinsey’s age to twenty-five before taking possession of her grandfather’s substantial finances. Even at that age I question her maturity to make sensible decision with the funds.”
“And you Sir, are eager to assist her with that decision-making, aren't you? In fact, I’m guessing you have been patiently waiting for the past several years to make those decisions for her. What a unpleasant surprise it must have been to discover you no longer possessed the ability to invest your brother’s finances as you saw fit.”
“That’s enough, Scott.”
“Indeed. Your time is up.”
Scott gathered up his pocket watch and set aside his untouched brandy. Rising he nodded to his grandfather. “I’m sorry the evening had to end like this.”
Watching his grandson turn to leave, Harlan Garrett made the first move on his imaginary chessboard.
“My lawyers have mentioned the revisions to Fletcher’s will occurring soon after your visit seemed rather odd to them. Questionable in fact.”
Scott’s chest tightened.
“Kinsey had no idea her grandfather’s will even existed. What you are suggesting…”
“Scotty, you know I can always acquire a legal leg to stand on. Perhaps you would like to sit down now and enjoy that brandy.”
Comments