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Writer's pictureljellis57

Fletcher Garrett

Updated: May 13, 2023



Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Exhaustion finally rescued my little cousin from her tears and her anger over what appeared, at first, to be a simple note that unfortunately possessed a few crafted words with the sole purpose to cut deep.


Taking time to listen was essential last night, but this morning I felt it was crucial we discuss what we could be experiencing when meeting her grandfather. I'm certain Harlan and Fletcher Garrett share many endearing qualities with intimidation topping the list. God knows I have endured enough intimidating sessions with my grandfather over the years so hopefully my advice to stay strong and show respect will get us both through the afternoon. Kinsey, at one point, wished to back out of the meeting. I gave her a firm no; we would deal with this situation together.


The housekeeper ushered us into a home, which resembled my grandfather's in many ways. Symbols of wealth were expressed throughout with paintings and antiques. Kinsey and I were asked to wait in the study where we found very little to do but listen to the mantel clock's tick-tock over the next thirty minutes. Intimidation at its finest. My grandfather used this method on me more times than I can remember.

Scott stood as Fletcher Garrett entered through an open door. “Sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”


“Harlan’s grandson Scott, correct? Would you care for a drink?”


“Thank you but no sir, I’m fine.”


Fletcher poured himself a drink, seated himself behind his desk and, before lighting his cigar, motioned to Scott.


“No sir, thank you.”


Fletcher struck a match and shortly the smell of cigar smoke blended with the traces of leather and old books. “How is Harlan?”


“The last I spoke to him he is doing satisfactory.”


“Oh, so you correspond with your grandfather.”


Scott observed Fletcher got the first jab in with his statement. His gaze then turned to his granddaughter.

“Hello, Rose. How are you doing?”


“A pleasure to see you, sir. I am doing fine. Mother, as well.”


“I don’t believe I inquired about your mother.”


Fletcher smoked his cigar for a moment before venturing on. “Tell me Rose - I’m curious. Are your parents aware you’re here visiting me?”

Kinsey glanced over at Scott.


“Ah they don’t do they? I’m guessing you have become an accomplished little liar just like your mother was at your age.”


Scott leaned forward. “Sir, I think perhaps…”


“Son, I believe I’m talking to my granddaughter. I’m confused why you would be interrupting.”


“I’m interrupting because your granddaughter should be offered the respect she is trying to show you.”


“Respect is earned. You should know that Scott.”


The old man smiled and returned his attention to Kinsey. “Is that what you‘re doing right now Rose? Showing me respect by not calling me a bloody arse to my face? Social circles, granddaughter; surely you know how quickly word spreads.”


It was obvious Fletcher Garrett was holding court. Scott was certain Murdoch had no idea the degree of animosity that evidently exists between Fletcher and his daughter. If he had, his suggestion of the trip would never be penned in a letter to Melbourne. With each attempt Kinsey made to establish a connection with her grandfather, the old man would deliver a stinging remark or let silence speak even louder.


“Rose, I’m not certain why you are here or what you are looking for. Is it money?”


“No sir. I don’t want your money.”


“Ah, I remember when your mother used those exact words. Does she still feel that way?”


“Considering she hasn’t spoken your name for many years I will venture a guess and say yes.”


“Sarcasm. You possess many of your mother’s characteristics.”


“Thank you.”


“That wasn’t a compliment Rose.”


Scott stood. “I believe we have taken up enough of your time.”


“Sit down Mr. Lancer. I have five minutes until my next appointment.”


Looking at his cousin, Scott took her hand. “Honey, I want you to stand up, walk out of this room, out of this house and wait for me outside. I would like to have these last five minutes alone with your grandfather.”


“Scott, I would prefer…”


“Do as I say and do it right now.”


Fletcher Garrett scrutinized the interaction between the two cousins and admitted surprise as he watched his granddaughter leave the room. “She obeyed. Remarkable. A concept her mother would never adopt. How much effort did it take on your part to get her to listen?”


Perhaps it was the thick cigar smoke that was hanging heavy in the study that diminished visibility or possibly it was the fact Fletcher Garrett‘s perception was affected by his ego. Whatever reason, Scott’s expression of outrage went briefly unnoticed by Fletcher Garrett.


“Sir, I would like to point out you are indeed a bloody arse.”


“Boy, your respect for me…”


“Has not been earned. Your words, correct? Respect is earned. Your granddaughter came here today with the hopes of knowing her grandfather better. Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened. Whatever relationship you and that girl’s mother have…”


“Had. My daughter is no longer part of my life.”


“Whatever relationship you had with Eleanor is not your granddaughter’s fault and rest assured she too will not be part of your life. I will make damn certain it never happens.”


“Mr. Lancer, your time is up.”


“Agreed.”Placing his hands on the man’s desk, Scott leaned forward. “By the way, her name is Kinsey you arrogant son-of-a-bitch. Never forget that.”


Kinsey waited quietly for Scott to join her on a park bench across from her grandfather’s home.


“I thought that went well.”


“I appreciate your wicked sense of humor, Freckles.”


“Well, at least you still have contact with your grandfather.”


“Oh, I’m thinking I will be hearing from my grandfather sooner than I want to.”


Kinsey rested her head on Scott’s shoulder. “You told Fletcher Garrett to go to hell, didn’t you?”


Scott placed his chin on top of his cousin’s head. “Let’s go home.”


A few weeks ago I could not see myself enduring five days with Kinsey. Now I need to find a solution in order to avoid living our lives without her.

S.

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