Winnie

San Joaquin Valley, California

Winnie will be arriving in less than a week. Kinsey's unbridled enthusiasm is countered by Murdoch's lack thereof. Both Johnny and Teresa appear to be curious bystanders; neither one committing to taking a side but choosing to be agreeable to any given opinion. I feel as though I'm again juggling; tossing balls in the air.

I would be a different person today if Winnie had not been present in my life. Being a member of the Boston Elite (a term I heard often from my grandfather), one tends to view the world through the lens of entitlement. I was told I deserve the best Boston could give due to the Garrett family name. The cloud of discipline and disappointment did hang over my head but only for my unwise decisions which reflected on my legacy. As long as Scott Garrett Lancer didn’t appear in the Boston Journal, my grandfather wrote off my indiscretions to the follies of youth.

My brief concerns for the underprivileged were remedied by attending a charity function, applauding my grandfather’s token cash contribution, and then dining on steak (I believe I was the only Bostonian who didn’t request lobster).

Winnie was the individual who brought balance to what would have been my self-focused existence. She made certain I thanked the good Lord above each day for something; the weather, my clothes, my food, my family. She taught me all I possessed could disappear tomorrow, leaving me with only my beliefs and my deeds. How her words rang true during my time of imprisonment. She explained it could be difficult to be a decent human being among the many, but it certainly was worth the effort.

Where my grandfather taught me the skill of the negotiation it was Winifred who taught me the art of the compromise. Watching the lifestyle I was exposed to during those days, dealing with my grandfather’s controlling personality, and keeping from me detailed knowledge of my father, I’m certain Winnie was comprising her own beliefs on a daily basis.

She was a patient woman but only to a point. One needed to know when to stop arguing with Winnie. My stubborn personality allowed me to cross the line several times. She still insists to this day I was the reason most of her monthly wages went to replacing her wooden spoons. She was such a force at times even my grandfather would avoid her by hiding out at the Union Club.

I watched Winnie take care of my grandmother during her final days and stand by my grandfather all the days after. Winnie cried when I enlisted and she cried when I returned to Boston a stranger. I had returned to Boston, but it was Winnie who helped me return home.

I look forward to her visit arranged by the great manipulator known as Kinsey Rose. Kinsey. I know her reasoning regarding “surprising me” is only secondary to her real reason, which would be healing old wounds and regrets. I'm aware she and Winnie had conversations. My cousin is extremely bright, insightful, caring, sneaky, stubborn, and spoiled; a rather exhausting combination.

I look at Kinsey and see some of myself. I wish I could turn back time by about ten years and hand her over to Winifred McLoughlin and her supply of wooden spoons. I believe my headaches and scotch intake would be reduced by half. No wonder Winnie kept a bottle of brandy in the kitchen pantry.

Murdoch. Johnny and I both agree his headaches and scotch consumption have doubled lately. My father still struggles with the thoughts of Harlen Garrett re-entering my life along with Kinsey as a business partner of a vineyard. Now, he has to soon be civil to a woman he would rather avoid for reasons I’m still not clear on. The knowledge of Winifred McLoughlin arriving has, as Johnny puts it, “bound up the old man’s balls so tight the vein in his forehead is protruding”. My little brother, at times, can uniquely state the obvious.

An offered cup of coffee magically appeared from behind.

“Reading over my shoulder again?”

The cup landed beside Scott’s journal to be joined by a second cup with his suspiciously silent cousin occupying an empty chair.

“Kinsey, I've learned when you don't answer me it indicates ‘yes’.”

“Scott, I've learned when you say ‘maybe’ to me it actually means ‘no’.”

The older cousin sipped his coffee as the younger one posed her next question. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Regarding?”

“The Winnie Surprise.”

“Oh.” Sip. “Maybe.”

“You really mean ‘maybe’ this time, don't you?”

Sip.

“Maybe.”

Scott observed Kinsey donning one of her more impressive woeful expressions. “Pack up the pouty lip and save it for another day. You’ve seen mad and you know damn well I was never mad at you.”

“Unhappy?”

“Yes. And by the way, ‘yes’ means ‘yes’. Look, I'm unhappy when you act without thinking. However, you need to keep in mind, depending on the situation ‘unhappy’ can crossover to ‘mad’ rather quickly.”

Scott watched his cousin ponder on his last statement. ‘You better think on that one, young lady. You've been getting dangerously close to crossing over.’

“You know what Winnie told me during one of our early morning talks? She said we all have a few demons to conquer.”

Scott smiled. He’d shared the same conversation with Winnie several years ago, however, it had been late at night with a mug of her Secret Recipe sitting in front of him.

“I agree, Freckles. We all have a demon or two that needs conquering.”

“You know what I think demons are? Unresolved regrets that grew too big.”

“No truer words were spoken, little one.”

“I believe I shall start working on one of my demons today.”

“Listening and doing as your told. Excellent.”

“Honestly, Scott. I was considering writing a letter to my parents.”

“Well, all right. Another good demon to conquer. By the way, are you responsible for this coffee?”

“I am! Like it?”

“Maybe.”

Winnie’s visit brings me guarded optimism...and maybe a few demons. As a family, we will conquer them together.

~S.