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"Esteemed Doctor Sherry Van Blair,
It Is with the utmost respect that I take pen to paper to address a matter that has been weighingheavily on my mind. Dare I say it's a matter of familial concern, which would require your expertise and application in your field of knowledge? With much introspection, I have concluded that one of my relatives may be afflicted with one of those cases of feminine hysteria. At your earliest convenience, I would like to consult with you regarding taking action on the matter, preferably in the most compassionate way possible. I would appreciatediscretion on the subject.
My regards.
-George Joestar"
George set his pen down on the wooden desk with a little tap, sliding the paper to the side, his cursive handwriting was pristine, unlike the likes of the discarded sitting neatly on a pile by his right forearm.
He leaned back in his red Velvet chair. Warm hands were placed over his stomach, looking up at the ceiling, the smell of rain reached his nose as drops from the skies impacted the window.
The man licked his pale lips, savoring the cup of coffee I had a minute ago.
"..."
Being a father was difficult. Of course, he had servants all his life to help care for Jonathan, George had not touched a diaper since he himself was a baby. But then there was the other kind of work, George could give Jonathan advice, man-to-man, words of wisdom, however, hugging Jonathan when he has nightmares, putting bandages on his knees when he falls, making sure he got dressed in the morning...all of that was the responsibility of women, or his butler on occasions, George didn't know how to handle it.
The man ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, frustrated.
He knew Jonathan was a bit of a lonely boy. Despite being polite and kind, he hadn't connected with any tutors, any of his previous babysitters, or even any girls his age.
That's why when he clung to recently arrived woman like a baby bird, he was surprised, listening to his son running through the hallways, chatting too loudly and laughing with someone other than his dog was as annoying as it was welcomed, It would have been fine, great even if she wasn't so...how to put it nicely? Not very aligned with the values of civilized society.
His sky-colored eyes moved to the clock.
He didn't like the thought of his son imitating you, he didn't like it one bit, but neither did the idea of his son suffering if he sent you away to get help. He put the letter inside the envelope, patting his desk for a stamp, getting some ideas.
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