Post by Esme Kegan Archer on Aug 11, 2013 23:14:02 GMT
It was the weekend and that meant Esme had a day off. She could relax by herself and focus on the next step in her plan to find out who her mother was. She had all the information she had collected in a briefcase and after ordering some vanilla roibos from the merchant she was good to go. She opened her briefcase and pulled out the manila folder that had all her information in it and read it as she put honey in her tea. Gently stirring she waited for it to cool.
The noise would settle out once folks got their orders. She had lucked out and snagged one of the few remaining tables that was available. It looked like she hit during rush hour or that there was a sudden craving for tea from the American populous. Either way Esme ignored the din and crossed her legs gracefully. Her ice blue dress set off her eyes nicely and she had her hair in a crown braid on her head to keep it out of her eyes while she worked. When you spent most of the day with your head bent over a book it was imperative to put your hair up, otherwise it got in everything. She thought about cutting it but it was something she liked so she kept it long.
Wow she was such a rebel with her sundress and long hair. Folks might actually not recognize her when she wasn't wearing a business suit. She brought her cup up to her lips and sipped gently, her eyes focused on a copy of her birth certificate. She needed a PI to help her with this. Stupid closed adoptions. She had a right to know who her mother was! What if her mother had some odd mental illness or the gene for Alzheimer's? Esme needed to know these things. She needed to know why she was a freak and what had happened to make her that way. How could someone be so irresponsible as to abandon a child with psychic gifts that could potentially hurt someone? Not that Esme had, yet but it was the principle of the thing.