Philidosia

The Hamilton Sister

Alexander turns his head at the sound of a soft rapping on his door. His son stands there, his eyes glued to the floor. Alex rubs his forehead and his expression softens. "Come in," he beckons, turning back to his desk and straightening his quills and papers. Turning in his swivel chair, a gift to him from his wife (he hated it because it had been invented by Thomas Jefferson), Alex says, "What is it, son?"

Philip keeps his gaze on the floor. "I was wondering if Theo could come over to play with me. Momma said to ask you." Alex shakes his head, and once again wonders why his son is so shy. He stands up and walks over to Philip. Putting a hand under his chin, Alex lifts Philip's face so their eyes meet. Philip's lip quivers, and Alex curses himself. He had meant it to be a loving gesture, but Philip took it the wrong way.

"I suppose," says Alex, turning his back to his son. He walks over to his desk again and grabs a sheet of paper and his quill. "What would you two do?"

"Probably play piano, I guess," Philip says. "Do you have an answer?"

Alex sighs, and slips his sweaty hand into his son's. "Yes, You and Theo can play after dinner. Come on, I want you to help me write this letter to Mr. Burr." Philip knew when his dad said "help me write this letter" it really meant "don't you dare bother me while I do this or your life is at stake".

"What's it for?" Phil asks, following Alex down the hallway to the dining room where Eliza is setting the table and humming to herself. "Is it about the play date?"

"Not exactly. I would like you to bring it to Theo's father when you go visit her. I want to discuss a few important things with Mr. Burr. It would please me for him to come over with young Theodosia as well. I had planned on inviting him for dinner tomorrow, but later this evening will work as well," Alex explains, sitting down at the head of the table in front of his plate. Philip slides into his seat beside his mother's.

"Phil, I want you to go upstairs before you sit down and get your sister Angie," Eliza says as she walks into the dining room again with a tray of french bread.

"What about AJ?" Philip asks as he pushes his chair back and makes his way to the stairs. He knew his youngest brother, James, who was only four at the time, was staying with Aunt Angelica, but Philip wasn't sure what Alexander Jr. was up to. "I haven't seen him since breakfast this morning."

Eliza sighs as she sets the tray on the middle of the table. "Who knows what AJ is up to? That kid is only six but he's so independent."

Alex is already bent over his paper and his quill moves furiously over the page. Without looking up, he blurts, "AJ is across the street playing with some of the neighbor boys. He has my permission to eat dinner with them."

Staring at Alex wildly, Eliza throws her hands up in the air. "You never asked me! Did you get the parents permission, as well? Are they okay with feeding another boy?"

"I'm sure they don't mind," he says, taking a second to lift his eyes so he could see his annoyed wife. Eliza shakes her head quickly and storms off, muttering to herself. Phil, a bit embarrassed to be seeing his normally gentle parents arguing, sneaks up the stairs silently. All the bedrooms are upstairs, besides his parents. His is across from his sister's, while AJ and Jamey share a room, down the hall by the attic stairs. Philip's room is big, with white wood walls and a soft light green carpet. The room is in the shape of a triangle, with a high ceiling on one side and the wall sloping down to connect with the floor on the other. On the slanted part of the room, an angular door leads into a parallelogram-shaped closet. Philip loves his closet. His toys, books, clothes, and piano music is all there in neat little drawers his mother made him for Christmas one year. He wasn't very good at keeping it clean, but sometimes Angie would help him organize the closet if he washed the kitchen for her instead.