Jaxon and I walk slowly through the graveyard, examining names and telling each other who we thought they were. "What about this one? Ethan Ross?" He asks, pointing at a mossy stone. "Well, let's see. I believe he was a pompous man who had three children, two wives, and lots of money." I respond, adopting a posh British accent. "Your accent isn't all that bad." He says, seeming surprised. "Thanks a lot." I say, rolling my eyes. "Wait! That's not what I meant. I mean most Americans aren't very good at- you're joking, aren't you?" He says monotonously, seeing my grinning face. "It's fine. Was I wrong?" I gesture to the gravestone. Some of them had a description of the person's life, others were just a name and a date. "Well, he was a blacksmith, so I'm gonna guess no on the money. There's nobody else buried with him, so no wives or children." We laugh. This is freedom. I love hanging around with Jaxon. "How about this one? Samanth-" He stops midline, rereading the stone. "What is it?" I walk over, a little bit concerned. "The person. Her name. Look." He says, pointing. I read the stone and want to laugh and freak out at the same time.
Samantha Anne Maxwell.
"Same initials, different middle name." He says lightly. I look beside it. "There's another! Look! Johnathan Maxwell was her husband. They died a year apart, in 1745." Jaxon turns to another one. "This one's a Maxwell, too. I think this is a family crypt section." What is this? Just a coincidence? Lots of people have the last name Maxwell. "Do you think you're related?" Jaxon asks what I'm thinking. "I have no idea." I shake my head. "Do you think this could be my family? I mean, my parents haven't told me much about our heritage, just that we're from Europe." Jaxon shakes his head. "Well, there's one thing: this isn't just a family. There are others buried here with the Maxwells. This is the Maxwell clan." I blink. "So, if I'm related, I'm in this clan?" He nods. "You should research and see. There's got to be a website on it." I smile. "This is so cool! What if I'm a part of history?" He smiles back, excited with my enthusiasm. "It is exciting. MacKinnon clan, and proud of it." He says, referencing his clan. I grin at him. "Let's go. I want to research that later." We walk, side by side out of the graveyard. "Want lunch?" He asks. I nod. "Sure. But let me pay this time."
"What are you up to next Wednesday?" He asks after lunch. "Um, I've got to work on my stories, but otherwise, nothing." He goes red in the face, and I'm certain this time that it's not the lighting. "Would you maybe like to meet up for dinner? I know a nice place. Not too formal, not too casual... you'd probably like it." He rambles. "I'd love to." I grin, my cheeks heating up. His grin is as wide as I've ever seen it. "Fantastic. We can meet up at the Princes Street Gardens, if that alright with you?" I nod. "Works perfectly." We both give each other one last grin and I wave. "See you then, Jaxon." He waves back, and I hurry back down to my flat. I need to start researching. As soon as I shut he door, I race to my laptop, but instead of pulling up google, I pull up Microsoft Word and type in a few short but important words:
I am going on a date with Jaxon McKinnon.
******
A/N
Yay! A date!
Also, I am a Maxwell. Technically. Indirectly.
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World Traveller
Ficção GeralWhen Samantha Maxwell goes to Scotland to study abroad for her writing degree, she doesn't expect to find an adventure of a lifetime waiting for her in the chilly city of Edinburgh. Then again, she doesn't expect to find love, friendship, and her f...
