San Joaquin Valley, California
I dreamt I was juggling. Actually, there was a time I was rather good at it, I mastered tossing up to four balls. In the dream, as I tossed the juggling balls more were added, one at a time. I felt frantic knowing I would eventually lose control, which is when I woke up.
At first, I believed my dream was a result of Kinsey’s tarot cards. She spotted the deck in a small shop during our trip to San Francisco and insisted on buying them. Like most situations when my cousin had her mind set on something, telling her “no” had little effect. She stated the only reason she wanted them was to admire the cards’ beautiful illustrations.
It didn’t take long to discover I had been hoodwinked when I caught her reading Teresa’s future…Jelly’s future…Maria’s future…even Johnny was a victim. As retribution for her deception, I refused to let her use the cards on me. During our last evening on the train from Boston, I watched her pull out the deck of tarot cards.
“How many times have I told you no?”
“I believe you are what they call a captive audience.”
Scott resumed reading as Kinsey shuffled the cards and began turning them over one by one.
“Put them away, Kinsey.”
“Extraordinary! The Juggler! He’s sometimes known as The Magician. This is your card, Scott! Do you know what this means?
The All-Knowing Kinsey didn’t wait for her audience’s response.
“It points to the talents, capabilities, and resources at your disposal to succeed. Its message is to tap into your full potential rather than holding back, especially when there is a need to transform something. It says you are a determined, strong, powerful man possessing dexterity and skills.”
Showing interest, Scott held out his hand. “ Really. May I see the card?”
“Oh, yes!”
“This is fascinating, Freckles. Can I see the others?”
Kinsey happily gathered up the cards for her older cousin. “Of course!”
Scott shuffled through the cards. “The juggler. A magician.” Holding up the deck, the older cousin smiled. “For my next trick, guess what I’m going to make disappear.”
As I sat across from my father this afternoon, I thought perhaps it was not the tarot cards that inspired my dream on the night before arriving in Stockton. Instead, it was a premonition of the juggling act that I would be performing with the members of our family.
~S.
Scott refused to be the first to break eye contact as he took a sip from his snifter.
“Sir, I noticed your scotch decanter has been replenished so we can sit here all day.”
Minutes ticked by. Scott was patient.
Murdoch sat back and sampled his own drink. “Bringing Harlan Garrett in on any business venture is a poor decision.”
“Is it?”
“Well, Scott, what do you call it?”
“A compromise.”
“An even poorer decision.”
“And the alternative? Waging war? Sir, past experience has taught me about any battle there are always causalities.”
Murdoch rose to refresh his glass as his oldest son continued.
“My grandfather has become a lonely old man struggling to hold on to the past. A fight over Fletcher’s estate would destroy what little is left of my relationship with him. Sir, I can’t let that happen. And in this battle, Kinsey would be caught in the crossfire. I won’t let that happen. Hell yes, part of me wants to bury Harlan Garrett and walk away. But then, what kind of person have I become?”
“Scott, the man can’t be trusted.”
“Agreed.”
Returning, Murdoch chose to lean against the front of his desk in order to tower over his seated son. “Why should this business venture change what past history has proven to be true time and again?”
Scott rose to step a few feet away from his father to once again be on equal ground. “Kinsey’s vineyard represents a path for my grandfather to restore his legacy; a family connection.”
“Don’t forget, Scott, it’s also a way for Harlan Garrett to make money.”
“I certainly hope so, Sir. I anticipate the Good Sisters of Mercy in Sacramento to be one of our most valued patrons; helping to double our investments the first year.”
Murdoch sighed as his son detected a slight smile. “Let me refill your glass.”
As Scott handed over his snifter his thoughts briefly returned to the art of juggling.
'I'm keeping three balls in the air. Time to soon add the fourth.'
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