I returned that letter to its envelope and took up the next in date order, postmarked June 13, 1955.

Dearest Virginia,

My letter of June 2, 1955, was inadvertently returned to me. Perhaps the address I have is incorrect. If so, I’m hoping the post office will forward the address correction. In the meantime, I’m sure you’re doing everything possible to assist little Kinsey during her recovery from recent tragic events. Given your own deep sorrow for your sister’s passing, you must be under a strain as well. I’m hoping both you and Kinsey are bearing up under your sorrow as best you can. Burton and I are hard-pressed to know where to begin the process of putting all our lives back together. It would do us such good if you could see your way clear to having Kinsey spend a few days with us.

I called your workplace and was told you were unavailable, so it’s possible you’ve taken a brief leave of absence. If there’s any way we can help tide you over, please accept the modest sum I’m enclosing by check.

We are willing to supply anything else you need in the way of aid in this heartbreaking transitional period. We want only what’s best for you and the child.

We hope you’ve been giving serious thought to our previous suggestion about Kinsey’s living with us. We have the stability essential to a child in her position, unsettled by the sudden loss of those so dear to her . . .

The check she’d enclosed was written for twenty-five dollars. There was no sign of the proposal she’d mentioned, so maybe Grand had reconsidered the wisdom of tendering the plan.

The next two letters were variations on a theme, offers of comfort, solace, and cash in just about that order, with the continuing suggestion that “little Kinsey” would benefit from their generosity and long experience with young children. I started skimming, picking up a paragraph here and there to see if the tone or content changed over time.

In a letter from Grand dated August 8, 1955, she began to pick away at Aunt Gin’s lifestyle. The school year was rapidly approaching, and Grand probably wanted me settled with her in Lompoc so I could be properly enrolled. Since the envelopes were still sealed and being returned to Grand as soon as they arrived, she knew her good counsel was falling on deaf ears. This forced her to operate in the dark, without feedback of any kind, spurring new efforts on her part to break down Virginia’s resistance, which was steely to say the least.

Given your limited resources and your lack of experience with child rearing, we feel we have more to offer Kinsey. Perhaps by now you’ve come to understand the impossibility of raising a child alone. We feel our position has merit, and while the idea might not seem tenable to you at first, we beg you to keep an open mind. Whatever our differences, I’m sure we’re united in our desire to do what’s best for her. We feel we can provide her a loving family, good schooling, and the best prospects possible on her journey to adulthood. Of course, Burton and I would want you to remain a constant in Kinsey’s life, and we assure you we’d make every effort to nurture and protect the bond you have with her.

Granted, there were difficulties between us these past few years. I don’t know that either of us could trace the short sad history of our disagreements. Suffice to say, in light of Rita Cynthia’s passing, all such conflicts should be set aside so that we may act in concert. We’re hoping to avoid giving Kinsey the impression we’re engaged in a tug-of-war. She should not be put in the middle of this discussion—that could only leave her feeling torn and confused. We’d appreciate the opportunity to present her with options without prejudice or undue influence. Since you’ve been in her life, her natural inclination might be to cling to what’s familiar, but working together we can demonstrate the many advantages that await her.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. Here all these years I’d resented Grand’s apathy when, in fact, she’d been doing her utmost to pull me into her orbit. My wants, needs, and desires were scarcely mentioned except to suggest that she could serve me better than Aunt Gin. Two letters later, she was saying,

You’ve always valued your career goals and your independence, issues that would be strongly curtailed by the rigors of parenting. Given your full-time employment, Kinsey would, of necessity, be relegated to day care, which we can’t help but think would be disastrous in light of her losses . . .

I set the rest aside and turned to the small bundle of letters addressed to me.

Dearest One,

How are you today? I bet you can’t guess who sent you this letter. I don’t believe you know how to read yet, so I’m hoping your Aunt Virginia will do me the incredible honor of making my thoughts known to you.