Boston, Massachusetts
Beacon Hill
The next morning a bright blue sky greeted Bostonians as they started their day. A conversation peppered with laughter filtered upwards as Scott proceeded down the back stairs, which led directly to the Garrett kitchen. Growing up, Scott favored this route over the main stairs in order to start his day with what he fondly called Winnie’s Weather Blessing. Arriving to the smell of warm biscuits and fresh coffee, he was pleased to learn the tradition was still intact.
“ScottyGarrett, have you seen what the Good Lord has blessed us with today?”
Peering out the window, Scott gave the customary response the inquirer expected. “It appears, Winnie, he has blessed us with the sun so we may feel his warmth.”
No matter what the weather, Winnie felt the man upstairs had blessed them.
Have you seen what the Good Lord has blessed us with today?”
“It appears, Winnie, he has blessed us with rain so we know his tears.”
Have you seen what the Good Lord has blessed us with today?”
“It appears, Winnie, he has blessed us with snow so we can start anew.”
Scott clearly remembered during his early teens there had been a long stretch of days filled with constant rain that kept him inside studying Latin until his brain hurt. By the end of the week when Winnie asked him what the Good Lord had blessed them with today, Scott replied the Good Lord had blessed them with rain because the man forgot where he put the goddamn sun. The Good Lord also blessed Scott that day with the knowledge of just how fast Winifred McLoughlin could move.
Scott headed to the stove to pour himself a mug of welcoming coffee.
“Good morning, ScottyGarrett.”
Kinsey failed to muffle her giggles behind her own mug of coffee.
“Young lady, once we’re home the first time you use that name will be your last.”
Sitting down across from his cousin, Scott snagged the biscuit she had just buttered and popped it in his mouth.
“That was mine!”
Through doughy goodness came the words, “And now it’s not.”
The “Great Aunt” smiled while listening to the cousins’ banter continue. All her mornings could start like this.
“Winnie, do you still have that large wooden spoon? I’ll be taking it back to California with me.”
“Neither of you possess acceptable table manners so I think I’ll be keeping the wooden spoon.” was the announcement as coffees were refilled.
“Will Grandfather be joining us?”
“Your grandfather was up before dawn. He asked you both meet him in his study once breakfast is finished.”
Smiles quickly disappeared to be replaced by looks of concern.
Winnie replaced her own expression with puzzlement. “What’s wrong with you? It’s not like you’re twelve years old about to be reprimanded.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Scott mumbled.
Harlan Garrett’s study was similar to his brother Fletcher’s. Framed photographs of distant relatives joined fine old leather editions filling bookcases lining the wall. The older man sat behind a massive exquisitely carved desk that demanded respect. His grandfather, or perhaps his father’s father, had chosen this piece wisely. Harlan greeted his guests with a warm smile and questions regarding their goodnight’s sleep.
“Kinsey, come sit here. I have something to show you.”
Scott observed his grandfather had placed a chair beside him behind his desk- something Scott could never remember the man doing before. Once seated Harlan slid a flat-lidded wooden box in front of the young lady who remained frozen.
“Open it, my dear. There’s nothing to be afraid of. This is Boston. We have no rattlesnakes here.”
“Just crafty foxes,” noted Scott.
Harlan’s eyes shifted to his grandson expressing his disapproval but a chuckle quickly replaced the moment. “Yes, Scotty. Boston does have a few of those.”
Lifting the lid, Kinsey placed one hand on her heart while reaching into the box with the other to retrieve a small delicate teacup. “Scott, look! It’s the tea set!”
Even though Scott displayed his best smile, he made certain his grandfather observed something different communicated in his eyes.
Frowning, Kinsey started counting. “There’s one saucer missing. Did I do that?”
Harlan’s laugh was genuine. “Oh heavens no, my dear. This child’s tea set has been passed among the Garrett young ladies for generations. Do you think you are the first to have the combination of stubbornness and a quick temper? You come from a long line of high-spirited Garrett women. Kinsey, I want you to be the next Garrett young lady to have this tea set.”
“No. I can’t.” Kinsey replaced the teacup and shutting the lid slid the box back in front of Harlan. “It’s not right.”
“Kinsey, there are too many items collecting dust in this house.” Patting the box, Harlan continued, “This should not be one of them. My girl, I insist. Please humor an old man.”
Harlan mouth suggested slight disappointment when he once again observed Kinsey seeking Scott’s approval. The tea set‘s purpose to break down the suspicions had failed.
“This is a very kind gesture, Grandfather. I’m sure Kinsey will treasure it and carry on the tradition. Honey, why don’t you take it up to your room for safe keeping.”
Giving Harlan a quick hug, Kinsey picked up the box. “This is precious to me. I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
“The smile on your face is all I need, my dear young lady. Now, hurry back. Our grand tour of Boston will be commencing soon.”
Scott patiently waited until he was certain Kinsey was out of earshot. “I’m curious, Sir…how many artifacts do you plan to dust off during our stay?”
“No more artifacts Scotty, but perhaps a few memories. We shall see.”
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