Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Birthright. Inheritance. Entitlement. Heritage. All these words are in my thoughts as we prepare to leave for Boston, a place not so long ago I called home.
For Kinsey, Boston was a faded memory of a large house with rooms full of boring adults and an older cousin who refused to play with her. We both return to Boston with hopes we are well prepared for whatever lies ahead.
“Are you writing in your journal?”
“Are you done packing?”
“Will you ever let me read it?”
“Do you honestly think I would?”
“Scott, do you know it annoys me when you answer my question with a question?”
“Why would I answer your question with a question unless I knew it annoyed you, Kinsey?”
With a smirk, Scott glanced up from his writings to spy Kinsey with a shoe in her hand. “Stop and think what happened the last time you threw a shoe at me.”
Kinsey and I have been talking before dawn on how to proceed with our current situation. Yes, California would be better instead of heading to Massachusetts but sometimes one cannot pick the ground on which to do battle.
“You sent the telegram to Murdoch?”
“I did.”
Fortunately, the telegraph office was open at this early hour to allow me to send my father details on what has occurred since our arrival in Philadelphia and why we are now headed to Boston.
My second morning stop was more of a challenge since Jonathon Masters, Esquire; Attorney at Law was not ready to rise and start his day. My relentless pounding on his door convinced him otherwise. I was grateful Masters could provide the documentation we wanted and the recommendation of an associate to contact in Boston.
“Are you certain we can trust this man in Boston?”
Scott set down his pen and held out his hand for his cousin to take.
“Listen to me. We trust each other, everyone else we are cautiously guarded. Kinsey, we are part of the Garrett lineage. Good or bad it’s who we are. I’d like to think it’s the Garrett part, which forms the bond we have and that’s certainly good.”
Kinsey nodded. “Yes. It’s very good.”
“Now, if I know my grandfather he is already planning an event for you to meet Boston and Boston is going to find you...extraordinary.”
Glancing down at Kinsey’s right hand, “Just don’t throw a shoe at anyone. And remember you stick to my side…”
“Like. Glue.”
In a few minutes, we will be joining Grandfather for the journey to the train station.
And then on to Boston.
~S.
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